The space took Jericho’s breath away—not just the soaring ceiling with its network of exposed beams but the transformation, all under Hudson’s direction. He’d stripped out the mustycarpet, torn down the dark paneling, jettisoned the heavy Victorian furniture that had made the place feel like a museum. Now, reclaimed hardwood gleamed, its honey-warm finish catching the early afternoon light that poured through towering windows that faced the Copper Mountain ski area.
“You stripped these beams yourself?” Jericho ran a hand along the nearest one, remembering how they’d been black with decades of soot and neglect. “Dad thought they had character.”
“Once upon a time. Then they just got gross and old. I found initials carved in some of them—miners from the twenties, if you can believe that.”
“I can. Dad thought this old mine was the coolest thing.”
“Kept a few visible, there.” Hudson pointed to a section where faded letters had been carefully preserved beneath clear lacquer. “Figure it’s part of the story, you know?”
“Dad would have loved that.”
“He was so sentimental. Even kept the old potbellied stove in the kitchen. It was a bear to haul out of here. Probably should have bulldozed the place, but ... you know.”
“Yeah. Hard to tear down the memories of what Dad loved.”
The massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, its rough face now cleaned and repointed, the hearth updated with sleek granite that somehow made the old stonework look even more impressive. Modern furniture in rich leather and soft wool grouped around it, creating an intimate seating area that looked both inviting and elegant.
“Those windows must have cost a fortune.” The new double-paned glass stretched nearly floor to ceiling, framing the Copper Mountain Range like a postcard. The clean white back bowl of the ski resort rested above them, with slopes cut into the lower half like rivers that led to the base. Majestic.
“Worth every penny. The old ones leaked so bad we were basically heating the mountainside.” Hudson’s voice held equalparts pride and worry. “The upstairs was a complete gut. Had to keep the renovations simple.”
“But this?” Jericho gestured to the great room. “This is something else, brother. You did a great job.”
Silence. More like a pregnant pause and he glanced at Hudson.
His brother wore a pensive expression, one hand hung on the back of his neck.
“What?”
Hudson sighed. “I think ... I think we need to sell the house.”
The statement landed like a punch.
He stared at Hudson.
“I’m sorry. I’ve gotten a couple offers over the years. It’s such a great place, and real estate is on the rise again ... We need the money.”
Right. Jericho looked away. “I get it.”
“You haven’t been back to the house once since—”
“I know.” He swallowed. “I just...” He watched skiers on the mountain, not far from where he’d worked with Orlando just a few days ago. “It’s like the final goodbye.”
Hudson said nothing for a moment. Then, “And you and Dad have an open conversation to finish.”
He bowed his head, closed his eyes.
“Okay, bro.” Hudson put his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll figure it out.”
Jericho glanced at him. “No, it’s okay—”
Hudson held up his hands in front of him. “Listen, God’s always provided. It’ll work out.”
Jericho sighed. “Dad would be proud of you, Hud. You done good.”
Funny, the expression that cast over his brother’s face. Almost, well, like he had gotten praise from their dad.
Huh.