Red tried to keep his face neutral as he secretly studied his former son-in-law.
Jack had aged, sure—salt in his hair, some creases around his once-boyish grin. But there was still that glimmer of charm and that casual confidence that came with a childhood of winning and a decade or so in front of the cameras.
Jack had always been the kind of man who could talk a bear out of its salmon. And, once upon a time, Red had admired that about him. Now Red just couldn’t forgive the other man for what he’d put Cindy—and Nicole—through.
With a satisfied sigh, Jack folded his napkin next to his plate. “Still can’t beat a good family dinner,” he said with the easy tone of someone trying too hard not to make waves. “Thank you, MJ.”
“You can’t be done yet, Uncle Jack,” Gracie said. “I brought home a mountain of macaroons.”
Benny snickered. “Macaroon mountain. Sounds like a new trail at Deer Valley.”
“And speaking of DV trails,” Jack said, leaning in and looking at Nicole. “Do they know?”
“Know what?” Cindy asked.
Nicole gave a tight smile. “I, um, agreed to hit the slopes with Dad tomorrow morning.”
For a moment, no one said a word. There was nothing but shocked silence until Nicole gave a dry laugh. “So apparently pigscanfly.”
“No, but Jack Kessler can,” MJ said, beaming at him. “Good for you, Nic. I, for one, think it’s a great idea.”
But Cindy looked stunned. “Are you sure, honey?”
“No,” she admitted on a chuckle. “But…the man drives a hard bargain, and I couldn’t say no.”
Really? Red sat up a little. She’d been saying “no” to skiing ever since that day she went down a tree well and darn near never came up again. Just thinking about how they’d almost lost little Nicole in one of the deep, hidden holes that form in the snow under conifers made him shudder.
“I’m surprised, that’s all,” Cindy said, reaching down to pull her phone from her pocket. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, glancing at the screen. “This is the reservation line.”
She got up to slip into her office around the corner and MJ immediately stood to start cleaning up.
“Let us help, Mom,” Gracie said.
“Absolutely,” Jack agreed, getting up. “I have to move before climbing Mount Macaroon.”
When the four of them left the table, Benny plowed a bony elbow into Red’s arm. “Gimme your phone,” he demanded in a whisper. “Quick, quick.”
Red reached behind him on the windowsill where he’d left it, handing it to the boy with a warning eye, whispering, “You should tell your mother what you’re doing.”
“Whatwe’redoing, Grandpa. And I can’t because she will have a cow. Look! We have five thousand followers!” He tapped the screen and grinned up. “Five thousand and thirty. Do you know what that means?”
“I have no idea what any of this means,” he admitted.
Cindy burst back into the room, holding her own phone like it was a golden ticket. “Guess what? We just booked two of the cabins for Christmas week!”
Everyone stopped talking.
“Really?” Gracie asked, turning off the running water.
“Two full week stays,” Cindy said, practically dancing. “Someone named Bryant from Ogden and another family from Washington State. Said they saw Snowberry Lodge on social media and justhadto spend Christmas here.”
Red raised his eyebrows. “On social media?”
“I bet it’s the sleigh!” Nicole exclaimed. “Bri told me that since we dragged it out there, all the ski shed customers are taking pictures on it.”
Red glanced down at Benny, who was practically vibrating, and gave the kid a secret wink.
Benny nearly fell off his chair as he fluttered his little feet with uncontained excitement.
