He swallowed visibly. “How is she?” The question held no harsh tone, no resentment, just genuine curiosity and a little sadness.
“She’s okay,” she said.
He studied her, his dark gaze piercing hers as a frown pulled. “Are you sure? Is something wrong with her? Is that why you seem…off?”
Oh, yes, the door was wide open and now was the time to step through it. “She’s worried—we all are—about how bad business is at the lodge.”
“Really?” He inched back, clearly not expecting that answer. “At this time of year? I figured you were booming. And the ski shed, too? I know that’s your baby and you do such a great job there, Nic.”
“I’m making my numbers, but the lodge has been hit hard. The Grand Hyatt is open and thriving, right smack up against the DV expanded lift lines. It’s new and gorgeous, running all kinds of deals, with a spa, and lessons, and blah blah blah.”
“But Snowberry has Santa!” He chuckled. “Red’s always a big draw.”
“It’s not enough, Dad. Room nights are just way down. We’re not full for Christmas, which has never happened before. We’veturned the third-floor suite into storage. Mom is working herself into the ground, and Aunt MJ’s pretending like everything’s fine. But it’s not.”
Jack’s face shifted slowly—laughter lines relaxing, gaze narrowing. He didn’t speak right away but looked at her with an edge of worry in his eyes.
“There’s more,” Nicole added.
“She’s seeing someone,” he said, dropping the statement like a thud.
“What? No.” And why did he seem so concerned? Wasthatwhat worried him?
“I thought that’s where you were going,” he said, “when you said there was more.”
“Well, there is, but not?—”
Their food came then, and while they thanked the waiter, her head whirred with the fact that he thought Mom had met someone—and didn’t like it. For some reason, that gave her an insane amount of hope. If he cared that much…he might care enough to come back.
“Just tell me, Nic,” he insisted as they picked up their silverware.
She took a deep breath of buttery crust and warm chicken. “Mom delayed the tax payment, thinking December would cover it. But…”
“Taxes have gone up?”
She lifted one brow. “Are you kidding? On twenty-five acres zoned for retail and guest accommodations? Mountain views and about ten physical buildings, if you count Starling House, the lodge, stables, and the ski shed, plus?—”
“How much?”
She groaned. “A ton. December could cover it if we were packed at full price, but, like Mom says, it’s all going to hitus again next year.” She felt her shoulders sink. “She’s kind of pushing MJ to sell.”
He stared at her, and she braced for the natural reaction—shock, dismay, and a long lecture about why that would be the dumbest thing ever.
“Oh, poor Cindy,” he whispered under his breath. “That has got to shatter her heart.”
The response surprised her—and touched her in an old, old wound. The same wound that was opened when she found her mother looking through pictures of her early years with Jack.
They might have divorced, but they cared deeply for each other.
“Yeah,” she said gruffly. “She’s pretty wrecked.”
With misery etched on every feature, he looked down at his food.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I know she puts her entire heart and soul into that place.” He gave a wry sigh. “Doesn’t always make room for anything else.”
She had to remember that the issues they’d faced went two ways. Dad loved his job more than anything—but Mom could put running the lodge above everything, too.
For a beat, neither of them spoke, then Nicole leaned in, knowing this was her moment.
