“Jackson found her in the forest when he was out on one of the trails this summer.” Elizabeth set the tray down on the low coffee table. “Someone had left her tied to a tree. Can you believe that?” Her mouth thinned. “She was skin and bones.”
“That’s terrible.” Shocked, Kayla stroked Maple gently. “So you kept her?”
“There was no way we’d let her go to the pound, so we gave her a home. But it hasn’t been easy. She’s a miniature poodle and we have two Siberian huskies, Ash and Luna, and they play rough. Maple gets in the middle of that.”
“I haven’t met your other dogs.”
“They’re living with Tyler at the moment. It’s good for Jess to have them around.” Elizabeth picked up the teapot and glanced up. “Maple was a bit overexcited last night. I’m worried she ruined your shoes.”
Kayla thought about the combined destructive power of paws and snow. “It was my fault for wearing unsuitable shoes.”
“They were the prettiest shoes any of us had seen around here for a while.” Elizabeth poured tea into the two china cups. “Now what do you want to know about Snow Crystal?” She was kind, warm and accepting, and Kayla felt a rush of guilt.
“I want to apologize for last night.”
“If anyone needs to apologize, it’s Walter.”
“No. I talked about things that didn’t interest you and didn’t seem relevant and—well, I was rude.” And it bothered her. Both the loss of control and the fact she’d offended them.
“You weren’t rude.” Elizabeth spooned sugar into her cup. “You were overwhelmed, and who can blame you. I remember the first time I met the O’Neils. It was like being buried by an avalanche. There were twelve of them sitting in the kitchen the night Michael brought me home. Twelve, not counting animals, all talking at once and not one of them stopping to listen to another, although somehow they seemed to manage to hear what was said anyway. I just wasn’t used to it. I’m guessing you’re not used to it, either. You’re used to order and shiny meeting rooms and suited executives. We’re nothing like your usual clients—I’m sure of that.”
Kayla thought of Jackson. Thought of those strong hands controlling the snowmobile through the deep snow. She thought about his powerful shoulders and the warmth of his mouth as he’d kissed her.
No, he was nothing like her usual clients.
Her heart thumped against her ribs, and she glanced around the living room, trying to distract herself.
The afternoon sun slanted through the large windows, bouncing light off photo frames. Deep sofas piled with cushions in earth tones faced each other across a large cream rug. It was a room that had seen a family grow. A room with a thousand stories to tell. The slight scuff on the leg of a chair where an active boy had smashed into it, the rug slightly worn by eager feet. It was a family room, comfortable and comforting. Except that it didn’t comfort her.
Kayla felt the ache build inside her. “You came here to cook?”
“It was meant to be just for the winter season.” Elizabeth sipped her tea. “I’d finished a course in Paris. Learned to make so many fancy dishes. Michael always said the day he tasted my braised lamb shanks, he was lost.” Smiling, she put the cup down. “He ate his way through the menu so he could have an excuse to talk to me. By the time he reached the last dessert we were in love. We were engaged after two weeks and I did all the cooking for our wedding.”
“Two weeks?” Kayla blinked. “That’s fast.”
“I’ve never understood people who have long engagements. If you know, why wait? And I knew. Michael and I connected straightaway. Losing him was a shocking blow.” Her eyes misted, and Kayla sat there feeling awkward and inadequate.
She knew nothing about the type of love Elizabeth had felt for her husband, but she knew how it felt to have your life irrevocably altered.
“It must be difficult for you, learning to live without him.”
“I miss him every minute of every day. I don’t talk about it much because I know Jackson worries about me, and he has enough to worry about.” She picked up her cup again, as poised and elegant as if she was indulging in tea at the Ritz in London. “But I’m glad to be living here. I feel close to Michael and it’s the same for Walter and Alice, of course. I have no idea how it would feel to have to leave this place—” Her eyes shone a little too brightly and Kayla sat still, staring hard into her tea because she knew.
She knew how it felt to lose a home.
She knew how it felt to be forced to move from somewhere safe and familiar. To have your roots wrenched from the ground so violently that only the scars remained.
And suddenly she understood why Jackson had come home. A man like him, with strong family values, would do that no matter what the cost to his own dreams and ambitions. It was about so much more than saving an ailing family business. It was about saving the memories for his mother and grandparents. Saving the jobs of people he’d known all his life. Saving the home he grew up in and the place he loved.
“I can help.” She was surprised by how badly she wanted to. Surprised to discover the desire to help had nothing to do with personal ambition. “You need more people through your doors, sleeping in your beds and eating in the restaurant. More people need to know about Snow Crystal. That’s what I do. I can put together a campaign that raises the profile of the resort.”
“That’s why Jackson brought you here, and I’ve never questioned his judgment.”
“Why did he leave? Why not just stay and run Snow Crystal right from the start?” She told herself that information on Jackson O’Neil was necessary for her job. It wasn’t because she had a personal interest and it definitely wasn’t because of the kiss.
“Michael would have liked him to stay, but Walter didn’t want him here. They clashed over it. Jackson found himself in the middle of that for a while, and then he went off to college and found his own path.” Elizabeth set a pretty china plate in front of Kayla. “It was the right thing to do. If he’d stayed here he never would have found out how high he could fly. And he flew high, as I always knew he would.”
Kayla heard the pride in her voice and wondered how it felt to be on the receiving end of that sort of love.