Christmas at Fireside Cabins - Jenny Hale Page 0,42

wasn’t hospitable when you came into the coffee shop. I’m not the greatest at…” He looked over at Lila. “I’m not great at being friendly with people right now.” His chest filled with air and then he let out the breath. “But I shouldn’t have taken out my own frustrations on you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, dear, that’s just fine. Thank you for the apology, and thank you for offering to fix the pipe out in the cabin.” She ushered them in. “It’s freezing. Why don’t you two come on inside and warm up.”

Lila pushed aside the hurt and irritation she’d felt on the doorstep and went inside. A little flutter of happiness floated up inside her once she was in the cabin. Eleanor had tidied up, all the Christmas lights were glowing, and the tree glistened in the corner. The gifts Lila and Piper had wrapped up were still sitting under the tree.

“The fire’s dwindling,” Eleanor said, hurrying herself over to it. “Let me get it going for us.”

“I’ve got it,” Theo said, as he picked up a couple of logs from the hearth and threw them onto the fire, making the flames crackle and hiss.

“Thank you so much,” Eleanor said. Then she clasped her hands together hospitably. “Would either of you like to have anything to drink? I’ve got some cider I can warm up.”

“Don’t worry yourself for us,” Lila told her, sitting down on the sofa. “I—we—just wanted to pop over to see how you were doing?”

“Same as always,” she said. “Thanks for checking on me. It’s chilly in here. I’m going to get myself a mug of cider to keep warm, so I’ll go ahead and make three. It’s no trouble. Y’all chat and I’ll be back in a second.” She bustled into the kitchen.

Once they were alone, Theo came over and sat down next to Lila. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” she told him with a smile. “And if you do it again, I’ll call you out on it every single time, so you’d better not.”

He allowed a little show of affection in his eyes.

They sat together in the quiet house, the silence heavy between them.

Then Theo noticed a guitar on a holder in the corner of the room. The silence must have been getting to him because he stood up and went over to it, lifting it off the holder and spreading his fingers across the strings on the neck. He carried it over to the sofa, picking out a chord and then tuning it. Then, out of nowhere, he began to play. His fingers moved effortlessly. He strummed the tune to “Silent Night,” and it was so beautiful in the stillness and hush of the cabin under the white Christmas lights that it gave Lila goose bumps.

Eleanor came in with a tray of mugs and set them down on the coffee table. “You are wonderfully talented,” she said, bringing one of the mugs to the table nearer to him.

“I wouldn’t say that. I play a little bit,” he said modestly. “Do you?”

“Oh, no, dear. I can’t play a lick. That guitar belonged to my husband.”

“Hmm,” he said, thoughtful.

Eleanor picked up her mug but didn’t drink from it. Her eyes glistened with tears for the lost love of her life.

Lila lifted the mug to her lips, inhaling the cinnamon and nutmeg before she took a sip, savoring the delicious flavors.

“I wouldn’t want Chester to see what’s become of this place,” Eleanor said. “My husband worked so hard to make the cabins beautiful.” She shifted in her chair, moving her reading glasses from the arm where they’d been sitting to the small table beside her. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips at the memory. “The grounds were so pretty back then. Nothing like they are today. We had endless wooden walkways that led through the woods to scenic overlooks of the hills, with little signs that told the history of the area. The whole trail was covered in wildflowers—Chester and I scattered the seeds every year. Oh, it was so beautiful…” She let out a wistful sigh.

“I’m trying to keep it going,” she continued, “but it’s been harder and harder. There’s so much to offer in this little town, but I need a miracle to draw people out here these days.” She set her mug down and swiped a tissue from the box on the table. “I don’t know why I’m telling you both this,” she