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“He’s the head chef at the Seabreeze. I think the wedding’s this spring. Maybe you’ll get in touch while you’re home.”
“I will.” Relaxed again, Sloan let out a sigh as Mop settled on a mound of snow like a man might in an easy chair. “This is better than eight hours’ sleep for me. Just a few minutes outside. And with this view.”
“I’ve always loved it here.”
“So have I. I know I moved away,” she added when Elsie said nothing. “That didn’t mean I didn’t love it here. Don’t love it.”
“You needed to spread your wings. And you did.”
“Won’t be able to spread them for a while now.”
“The business wasn’t for you. Your dad and I understand that.”
“Drea’s worth two of me there. Possibly three of me.”
“It’s what she wants. We want what our girls want. And now I want you inside by the fire.”
“Yeah. I’ve got a scarf to make.”
On the first Monday of December, the Littlefield brothers drove into Heron’s Rest. A small town with only a couple thousand year-round residents, it bustled. The winter season brought the skiers, the snowboarders, the hunters, and plenty who just wanted a cozy getaway.
The Rest offered the mountains, the lake, the slopes and trails, the campsites and cabins, and the lake houses and docks. A scatter of restaurants and bars, plenty of shops—retail and rental—a small library lined its Main Street.
The town had a reputation for friendly and picturesque. After all, it depended on tourists to eat, drink, shop, play, and stay.
Nash knew the town enjoyed glowing write-ups in magazines and blogs touting places to visit, hidden gems, vacation destinations.
He’d made the dramatic change in his own career and location because the practical part of his brain calculated he could make a decent living there doing what he’d finally admitted he wanted.
Then the house, the dilapidated wonder of it, had hit him hard. It was, to his eye, a sad and neglected treasure, and he could make it shine again.
Would make it shine again.
The challenge of it appealed to every part of him and stood as the perfect start of the new phase of his life.
Theo was the big bonus, the whipped cream and the cherry on top. There was no one he’d rather work with, partner with, build something strong and good with than Theo.
And today, on this first Monday in December, they’d begin.
“Where do you want to start?” Nash asked him.
“I figure to hit the All the Rest place. They own most of the vacation houses, the boat and equipment rentals.”
“And like I said, I checked before I settled on the house. They’ve got a contractor.”
“Yeah, but a lot of cabins and houses to deal with. Plus, you have tofigure they know everybody. I’ll spread on the charm, then work my way, hit the shops, the rest.”
He patted the box on his lap. “The flyers look good. So do the business cards. We’re marketing, bro.”
“I’ll pick up the permits and catch up with you.”
“Don’t forget your flyers. You’ve got some charm in there.”
“I’ll see if I can dig it out.”
At the first of three traffic lights, Nash made a turn, then turned again at the next corner and drove into the town parking lot.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Nash grabbed his briefcase—flyers and business cards inside—before they walked back toward the corner of Main and Mallard.