House was right there, waiting for us outside the airport. I needed to make a quick pit stop on the way. But we arrived here safe and sound. They’re calling for some snow, quite a bit of snow, from what the mountain house staff says,” Lori reported.
A smile—a real smile—stretched across Bridget’s face. Her plans to give Lori and Tom the perfect Christmas wedding would only be better with the addition of a Rocky Mountain winter snowstorm.
“That’s great news! I’ve arranged for you all to ski today and tomorrow. You’ll have loads of fresh powder! Kringle Mountain House should still have a lift to bring you up to the ski runs.”
“It’s there. I can see it from my room,” Lori answered with a touch of nostalgia to her words.
Bridget nodded, grateful the staff had given Lori and Tom the room she’d selected for them. The mountain house only had five rooms—exactly what they needed—no more and no less—to accommodate Tom’s immediate family for an intimate mountain wedding.
“You’ve got the schedule of events and activities I emailed to you, right? I sent a copy to the Kringle Mountain House caretakers, too.”
“Oh, yes, Birdie, super baker and wedding planner extraordinaire, I got it. It’s so kind of you. You’ve thought of everything and have already done so much.”
A heavy beat of silence passed between them.
“What is it?” she asked, sensing something was weighing on her sister’s heart.
Lori released a shaky breath. “After Mom and Dad died, back when we were girls, and then when we lost Grandma Dasher two years later, you’ve been my rock. I don’t know what I would have done without you. And now, I’m getting married, and I’m…” Lori trailed off, her voice thick with emotion.
Bridget twisted the hem of her apron and blinked back tears. While most eighteen-year-olds were going to parties and preparing for college or a gap year to travel the world, she’d started working two jobs to make sure her fifteen-year-old sister had everything she needed. She’d become Lori’s legal guardian and a single parent before she’d even lost her virginity.
“I want you to know that Tom and I are so grateful, Birdie.”
Bridget swallowed past the emotion. It made sense that Lori would be feeling sentimental and reflecting on their parents and grandmother. They’d spent their last Christmas as a family at Kringle Mountain House. And truth be told, she could hardly believe she’d be back there after all this time.
“Hey, what are big sisters for?” she answered, trying to keep it light. But not even she was immune to the onslaught of memories. She could picture her grandmother, feel the papery skin of her cheek the moment before the kind woman took her last breath a decade ago.
Take care of your little sister, Birdie. You’re all she has now.
“I didn’t mean to get all mushy,” Lori said, clearing her throat.
Bridget dabbed away the moisture welling in her eyes with the edge of her apron. “Well, I fly in tomorrow, and we can be all sorts of mushy when I get there. I know that Grandma, Mom, and Dad would be so happy for you.”
Another sliver of silence stretched between them before her sister spoke.
“Birdie?”
“Yeah, Lori?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind that I’m getting married here?”
Bridget wasn’t expecting that.
“Mind? I think it’s wonderful! We always said that whoever got married first would have to do it like Mom and Dad did at Kringle Mountain House.”
“There’s something else.” Lori paused.
“What?”
“I have a bad feeling about something, Birdie.”
Bridget’s stomach turned to stone.
“Is it Tom? Did something happen? Did you have a fight?” she pried.
“No, nothing like that,” her sister replied, lowering her voice.
“Then, what, Lori?”
“I’m worried about Scooter. Tom’s on the phone with him now.”
“Who?” Bridget shot back.
There wasn’t any Scooter on the guest list.
“He’s Tom’s best friend, and he’s going to be his best man. I texted you the details. Tom had asked him, and he’d been waiting on the guy’s answer. He finally agreed. Tom’s over the moon, but I’m not so sure about it.”
“Is Scooter the lunch from hell guy?” Bridget asked, vaguely remembering the mention of the man.
Lori huffed an audible breath. “Yep, that’s him. About a month ago, he flew up from New York City to have lunch with Tom and me. The man gave me the cold shoulder and didn’t speak to me the entire time. He answered any question I asked him with a grunt, and then he got a call and left the restaurant before our entrées had