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“If you knock the work out now, your entire evening will be free to spend with Trixie and the other ladies,” I remind her.
“Yes, I’d better get my math done before dinner,” she decides.
I follow her up to our room and set her up on the laptop so she can video-chat with her mother and baby brother and go over today’s assignment. Then, I head back downstairs to offer Keller help with the firewood.
“Thanks. Pop dropped a cord off in the back. I’m stacking them in the great room and out by the firepit so the girls have plenty.”
He leads me out a door and into the back of the inn.
“Whoa, this space is something else,” I say as I take in the yard encased by glass panels.
“It’s Willa’s garden atrium. The glass retracts during the spring and summer to open it up to the warm weather and rain. This time of year, it’s closed so guests can sit out here and watch the snow fall around them. Mom and Willa string it with lights and fill it with all the festive decor,” he explains.
I wish I had my camera.
There are so many interesting things to capture in Lake Mistletoe.
“I can see why this town is such a draw for holiday travelers,” I muse.
He nods. “It is magical this time of year.”
“What about the rest of the year?” I ask.
“We thrive, like anywhere else. We still get a steady stream of visitors. Families come to enjoy the lake in the spring and summer. They swim, kayak, paddleboard, and fish. Bran started a new rock-climbing club, and he and Mayor Miller have plans for a zip line that will run from the crest of the mountain all the way down to the lake. The town offers some great hiking trails, and in the fall, when the leaves turn beautiful colors, we have hayrides, corn mazes, and pumpkin patches,” he says. “But in the winter, once the snow begins to fall, Sun Valley opens to skiers, which is extra special.”
I try to imagine the town in bloom and with sunbathers on the bank of the lake.
“I think, in my mind, Lake Mistletoe is a place that only exists during the holidays. Like the North Pole,” I say.
Keller chuckles. “Nope. We’re here year-round, working, playing, loving, and living. You should see the haunted gingerbread house Willa and Mom turn this place into for Halloween.”
I make a mental note to have Dawn add that information to the article.
We carry wood out to the firepit, and then I help him stack the rest in the shed out by the garage.
Norah and Sela arrive together a few moments later.
“Hey, Keller, can you carry the boxes from the backseat inside?” Norah asks.
We walk over to the Jeep as she opens the door.
“What is all this stuff?” Keller asks.
“It’s samples that Hannah sent for Trixie and Willa’s approval,” Sela answers as she joins us.
Her hair is in a low ponytail, and her face is freshly washed. She’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with a low neckline and a pair of faded jeans that hugs her curves. Her feet are snug inside of dark brown leather hiking boots.
It’s a striking difference from the pulled-together professional look of this morning.
Sexy.
I like it.
“Samples of what?” Keller asks, dragging me from my wayward thoughts.
Norah shrugs. “Baby shower stuff. They finally decided on a theme, and now, they are narrowing down fabric for the table coverings and flowers for the centerpiece arrangements,” Norah informs.
“Fabric? Are they hand-making the tablecloths? We have a ton in storage already that we use for events.”
