“When have you ever seen me afraid of hard work? I never wanted to work in an office, that’s true. I never wanted the nine to five. You understand that, because you never wanted it, either. I can’t imagine a life without this place, and these mountains. This way, I get both. And you get to be with the reindeer. Seems they’re going to be an important part of what we’re doing here.”
“If you’re sure.” Released from the pressure of guilt, Kirstie felt the first stirrings of excitement. No more stripping beds. No more polishing windows, plumping cushions or washing dishes. She was going to be outdoors. She’d have cold toes instead of wrinkled hands, and that suited her just fine.
Her mother put her cup down. “I am sure, although I’d be grateful if the two of you could cover the place for a few weeks in April if we happen to be busy then.”
Kirstie took a bite of toast. “What’s happening in April? Where are you going?”
“I’m going to New York, to stay with Gayle. She’s invited me, and I said yes.”
Kirstie put her toast down. “New York? But—” she exchanged a glance with her brother “—you’ve never traveled outside Europe. You and Dad always—”
“We always stayed close to home. I know. But it’s just me now. And I’m going to America, to see Gayle. She’s going to show me the sights. We’re going to spend some time together. She’s going to set up a meeting with her publisher to discuss our book idea. I’ll probably cook a few Scottish treats to take to that meeting.” She slid her hands round the mug. “Am I nervous? Yes, I am, but I’m doing it anyway.”
Brodie smiled. “Good for you, Mum. That’s great. Inspiring.”
“Gayle is an inspirational woman.” Mary abandoned her coffee and pulled a book out of her bag. “Brave New You. I read it to be polite, because I wanted to know more about the family, and I ended up underlining passages.” She pushed it across the table to Kirstie. “You should read it. But I’d like it back when you’ve finished it.”
Kirstie took the book but didn’t look at it. She was too busy looking at her mother. “You seem different. You’ve been so sad—”
“I’m still sad. Part of me will always be sad, and there are days when I’m crushed by it. But the truth is that sometimes life sends you change that you wouldn’t have chosen, and this was one of those times. I had no choice about losing Cameron, but I do have a choice about what I do with my life from now on. I miss him terribly, but I intend to get out of bed and keep living, no matter how hard that feels. And all the memories can come along with me.”
They all handled it in different ways, Kirstie thought. She handled it by being outdoors. By throwing herself into hard, physical work. She’d missed that.
And now she desperately wanted it back.
“Will this work, Brodie? Truly?” She’d been against the whole idea, but now she badly wanted it to work.
“Are you talking about the finances?” He pushed at his glasses. “You’ve seen the numbers. Yes, it will work, providing guests will pay what Samantha thinks they’ll pay. And providing enough people book.”
“And will they?”
“There are no guarantees, but she knows what she’s doing. She’s impressive.”
“You should know. You’ve spent enough time with her over the past few days.” She saw his face redden and was pleased, not because she had a sadistic streak—although who didn’t love teasing their sibling?—but because it proved she hadn’t been wrong. Those glances she’d observed, the brief brush of fingers as they’d passed papers between themselves, it had meant something. He cared, and she wanted him to care. She knew what he’d sacrificed to come back here, and she wanted everything good for him. “Relax. I like her. A lot. And you’re right—she is impressive. She knows what she’s talking about, she isn’t afraid to break a nail and she didn’t overreact when Bear got excited and peed on her leg by accident. So she gets my vote.”
“Your vote for what?”
“For—” she had to be careful not to overstep, because she didn’t want him to back off “—whatever position you choose to give her.”
“Consultant.” Brodie dropped the papers he was holding. Picked them up again, flustered. “She’s our partner in this, I suppose.”