trees. And then there were the internal shots—the Christmas tree in the library; Mary’s shortbread dusted with sugar; a glass of whiskey, the color deepened by the glow of the fire behind, hints of tartan, the shimmer of red ribbon.
As she scrolled through the photographs, Samantha started to talk.
She painted pictures of hikes along the loch trails, of sleigh rides and reindeer encounters, of trips into the forest to cut the perfect Christmas tree.
Then she talked about her clients, about the type of people they were and what they wanted from the winter holiday season.
Kirstie was the first one to speak. “It looks great, but what if the guests don’t get on? We’re not a hotel.”
“And that is what is special about Kinleven.” Samantha focused her attention on Brodie’s sister. “Not everyone wants a hotel. What we’re offering them is more personal. And we will be offering this exclusively to family groups, or groups of friends. They have to book the whole place. I’ve done some calculations, based on what I know people have charged for something similar—although not around here. It’s difficult to match what you have here, which is, of course, part of its value.”
Mary looked overwhelmed.
“You’ve put in a lot of work,” Ella said. “You must have been at it for most of the night.”
Samantha didn’t react, but Brodie blushed up to the tips of his ears.
Charmed, Ella took pity on him. “I want to book it,” she said. “I want to spend the holidays doing all of these things. Have I told you lately that you are so, so good at your job?”
“She is. Which is lucky for us.” Brodie passed the pages to his mother. “I printed them out. Circled the numbers you need to look at. Ultimately this is your decision, Mum.”
“I need my glasses.” Mary stood up, found them next to the toaster and slid them on. She picked up the papers, studied the numbers Brodie had marked in red, and looked up. “No way would anyone pay that.”
Samantha glanced up. “They would. Trust me.”
“But you don’t—”
“I’ve already contacted two of my most long-standing clients in confidence, testing their interest. One is ready to book for ten days over Valentine’s Day, and the other wants two weeks at the beginning of December.”
Mary looked at Brodie and he nodded.
“We’ve run the numbers together. This whole thing works.”
Kirstie sat tense and stiff. “We’d have strangers in our home every Christmas.” She was the only one who wasn’t looking excited.
“If Christmas itself is an issue, then we can avoid those dates. But from the end of November through to Christmas Eve, we can offer festive holidays.”
Kirstie took a deep breath. “I’m hating being indoors. It’s killing me.”
“Which is why your responsibility will be outdoors, mostly with the reindeer.” Samantha pulled out a couple of sheets of paper from the pile and passed them across the table. “This is just a start. You’ll have many more ideas I’m sure, but basically there is so much potential there. It’s going to grow. You’re going to be busy.”
“You want me to be in charge of the reindeer?” Kirstie flicked through the papers, reading the plans. “You don’t want me to work in the lodge?”
“That would be a waste of your talents. Also, if this is going to work you have to love what you do.”
Ella only half listened as Samantha outlined the rest of their plans for Kinleven. She was more interested in the detail of her sister’s blossoming relationship with Brodie. They talked as if this was something they’d planned together and discussed at length. They passed pages of notes between them, fingertips brushing, exchanging the occasional brief glance that seemed to exclude everyone else. Ella was willing to bet that if she peeped under the table she’d see Brodie’s leg pressing against her sister’s.
“There’s something else we wanted to talk about, Samantha.” Gayle spoke for the first time. “What Mary produces in this kitchen is nothing short of magic. Can we use that?”
“You mean apart from offering great food?” Samantha tapped her pen on the table. “You mean cookery classes?”
“Yes. Small numbers—”
“Make it personal.”
“A weekend in a Highland Kitchen—”
“They eat what they cook. Add in whiskey tasting.” Samantha nodded. “That would work. We could offer it as an optional extra to guests, but also a few special weekends during the year.”
“And for guests who are staying here, maybe a cookery morning for children. But one parent has to be included, because Mary can’t spend her time trying