Page 10 of His Christmas Love Song

“Just bits and pieces. I’ll drag them out for you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” He’s glad when they reach the main building. His nose feels cold and he’s sure it’s as red as Rudolph’s.

Emma’s at the desk. “Hi there,” she says warmly. “Hank asked me to walk you back to his place.”

They fall into step behind her as she takes them down a hallway lined with black and white photographs that showcase the lodge through the years.

“It’s so cool that you’re carrying on your grandparents’ legacy,” Ryan says.

“Hank and I practically grew up here and I could never imagine living anyplace else. But Hank wanted to see the world.” Emma points at one of the photos. Ryan leans in and sees two little dark-haired kids next to a man and a woman with eighties-style haircuts. “Our parents weren’t in love with this place like I was, so when I showed interest in taking over the place, they were only too happy to sign it over to me and take early retirement. They live in Florida now. I thought Hank would never come home, but it’s been really nice since he did. He’s still helping people in town, and I don’t feel quite so alone rattling around this place.”

Ryan wonders why she’s still single. She’s attractive, and clearly the lodge is doing well. Columbia’s small, and the next big city is an hour away, so maybe she just has trouble meeting people. Then he stops himself. Her love life is none of his business. Jesse’s persistent matchmaking must be infecting his brain. He shakes his head and follows Emma down another corridor where she stops in front of a door and knocks before letting herself in.

Ryan realizes he was expecting a glorified hotel room, but Hank’s place is more like the inside of a regular house, with a cozy living room complete with Christmas tree and a big country-style kitchen attached, where they find Hank, who accepts the bottle of bourbon with a grin. Emma chats with them for a minute before excusing herself to go back to work.

“Saul will take the desk for you if you want to stay,” Hank says, but Emma laughs.

“I don’t want to get in the way of all the manly reminiscing you’re going to do,” she says. “But Jesse, Ryan, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Emma leaves, and Ryan shrugs off his coat, laying it on the back of a straight-backed kitchen chair. The kitchen reminds him a little of his grandmother’s.

“Tell me you’re hungry, because I took the roast chicken out of the oven fifteen minutes ago. Just about to carve it up,” Hank says.

“Starving,” Ryan says. “We skipped lunch.”

“Too full from the lodge breakfast,” Jesse adds. “What can we do to help?”

Hank gives Jesse a bottle of wine and a corkscrew, and hands Ryan a wooden salad bowl filled with a green salad. “Can you take these out to the table?”

He nods to another door off the kitchen and Ryan realizes there’s a separate dining room. The long wooden table is already laid with three places. He puts the salad bowl in the center of the table next to a bowl of mashed potatoes and looks around.

“This place is gorgeous.” It feels old fashioned, but in the best way, homey and real.

Jesse hums in apparent agreement, struggling with the wine bottle for a minute before Ryan smiles and takes it from him. It only takes him a second to get the cork out with a satisfying pop. Maybe he’s better at one thing than his friend.

Hank comes in a second later carrying the roast chicken, fragrant and mouthwatering with crispy brown skin.

“This place is attached to the lodge, but it feels like an old farmhouse,” Ryan remarks as they go about the business of serving themselves food and wine.

“You’re right on the money,” Hank says, putting a slice of chicken on Ryan’s plate. “This was the original house back when this was a dairy farm. When my grandparents bought the property in the fifties, they soon realized dairy farming was not for them, so they sold the livestock and razed the barns for cabins, then added onto this original building in fits and starts until it got to be this big sprawling thing. My parents modernized everything in the eighties and nineties and now Emma’s working on making everything energy efficient and green. She’s got an apartment in the other wing, but I like this part of the place. Though it’s a little too big for just me, when I’m at the clinic five days a week.”

“Would be a great place for kids,” Jesse says, with a glance at Ryan. “We saw the picture of you and Emma in the hallway.”

Hank laughs. “She and I are doing a terrible job of making the next generation to take over this place. But who knows what’ll happen in the future.”

“Yeah, so you aren’t seeing anyone?” Jesse asks.

Ryan shoots him a look, but Jesse pointedly keeps his gaze on Hank.

He doesn’t seem bothered by the question. “No. Things have been busy at work. We’re trying to raise money to extend the clinic’s hours. Now if something happens during our off hours you either have to take your chances calling 911, but response times can be long depending on where you live, or get someone to drive you to the hospital forty-five minutes away. When I first got here, I told people they could call me day or night, but I realized that was unsustainable.”

Ryan’s not surprised that Hank’s trying to help as many people as possible. “What do you mean, raise money? Who runs the clinic?”

“It’s funded by the town, actually. We’re too small to be of any interest to the big corporate healthcare companies. I’ve been trying to put together a fundraiser for the new year.”

Ryan frowns. Hank shouldn’t have to raise money on top of the work of doctoring people. It reminds him that while they helped a lot of people in the Peace Corps, there are still plenty of needs right here at home.

“Well, let us know if we can help,” Jesse says, taking the words out of Ryan’s mouth. “And by the way, this is the best roast chicken I’ve had since my mama’s.”