MAC WOKE AND gazed upward into the darkness, debating whether to get up or burrow deeper into the comfortable bed and go back to sleep. The curtains at the window weren’t quite closed, but no light showed through. He’d eaten well, enjoyed his evening with Ursula and Rory and slept through the night—simple pleasures he used to take for granted. He pressed the button to light up the face of his watch. Six twenty.
Blossom roused herself from the pallet Ursula had made for her at the foot of the bed, her tags tinkling, and padded over to Mac, taking the decision out of his hands. He greeted the dog, did his push-ups, got dressed and made his way to the kitchen, hoping for coffee to sip while he let the dog outside. When he opened the door, he spotted Ursula standing on a wooden chair, taking something from the top shelf of her kitchen cabinet. She spun around at the sound, dropping whatever she had in her hand. It hit the floor and scattered. The chair teetered.
Mac rushed forward and grabbed her around the waist. “I’ve got you, darlin’.” He set her gently on her feet on the kitchen floor.
“Thanks, cowboy.” She gazed up at him, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted.
Maybe it was because his hands were still around her waist. Maybe it was the look of trust on her face. Whatever it was, some long-buried instinct kicked in and he bent to kiss her lips. After the briefest hesitation, she responded, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.
It felt good, natural, and he realized he’d wanted this for some time now. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. His heart pumped as though he was on push-up number forty-nine. Finally, he lifted his head. Ursula traced her fingers along his jaw. Blossom nudged his leg but he ignored her to study the warm light in Ursula’s eyes. Hazel eyes, he realized, green but with intriguing brown and golden speckles, like flecks of mica.
But suddenly, Ursula blinked and stepped back. She bent to gather up the batteries that had rolled across the floor. “I don’t know what I was thinking, climbing on that chair. I was using the step stool upstairs yesterday and didn’t want to take the trouble to go up and get it. Stupid of me. This would be the absolute worst time for a broken leg. They’d probably have to send the helicopter. Maybe I should buy another step stool for upstairs...”
Mac stood where he was, absently stroking the dog’s head as he watched Ursula flutter around the kitchen. Apparently, they were going to pretend that kiss never happened. Part of him was relieved. This wasn’t something he’d planned, and he didn’t have a follow-up. Ursula was his neighbor and his friend, and he wanted to keep it that way. He shouldn’t be complicating their relationship.
But a perverse part of him was annoyed. How could she brush off that kiss like that as if it were negligible? Like he’d accidentally bumped her hand when they reached for something at the same time. Didn’t she feel what he’d felt?
She set the batteries on the counter and turned, her chatter finally trailing off as she met his eyes. Even in this light, he could see that her cheeks were flushed, and she seemed to be breathing more rapidly than usual. She wasn’t unaffected after all. An almost shy smile was blooming when the kitchen door opened.
“Where’s Blossom?” Rory galloped into the room, still in her pajamas, and slid across the floor in her fuzzy socks. Blossom almost knocked him down in her hurry to greet Rory.
“Good morning.” Ursula laughed. “I guess we know where we rank around here. Mac and I are here, too, you know.”
Rory looked up from petting Blossom and grinned. “Good morning, Mac. Good morning, Ursula. Can we make a snowman today?”
“I need to head over to the cabin soon to feed my woodstove,” Mac said, “or my pipes might freeze.”
“Can I come?” Rory begged. “We didn’t get to go snowshoeing.”
“If it’s okay with Ursula.”
“We can all go,” Ursula said, “once we’ve had breakfast. After that, we’ll see about building a snowman. What are you hungry for?”
“Oatmeal.” Rory dashed toward the pantry. “I’ll get the dried blueberries.”
“Is that okay with you, Mac? I’ve got eggs and bacon if you’d rather have that.” Ursula glanced at him and then looked away, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Ursula makes real good oatmeal,” Rory volunteered, popping out of the pantry carrying a jar.
“I’ll bet.” Mac replied, his eyes on Ursula. “I haven’t found anything she doesn’t do well.”
* * *
AFTER BREAKFAST, they all bundled up and strapped on their snowshoes. Mac let Rory take the lead. The trip to the cabin was uneventful, other than watching Rory run rings around him. She moved with ease and grace, even on snowshoes. She’d obviously inherited her parents’ natural athletic abilities.
Blossom, discovering it was much easier to run over a packed trail, stuck close to them, until she spotted a squirrel. She plunged into the woods, immediately vanishing as she sank into the snow. She leaped forward and sank again, making slow progress toward the tree. Meanwhile the squirrel had climbed the trunk and was watching her from just overhead, chattering. Mac and Ursula stopped to watch.
“How do sled dogs keep from falling through the snow like that?” Mac asked Ursula.
“Huskies have big feet with fur between their toes. They’re probably three times the size of Blossom’s feet, and the dogs weigh less. Besides, mushers tend to stick to packed trails.”
Blossom reached the tree and the squirrel moved to the other side of the trunk. When Blossom followed it, it circled back to their side. Blossom gradually packed the snow around the tree, following the squirrel who, rather than climbing higher, kept circling the trunk at about the six-foot level, just close enough to give Blossom hope.
Mac laughed. “I never realized squirrels had such a sense of humor.”
Ursula chuckled along with him. “They’re wicked teases.”
Rory, realizing she’d left them behind, retraced her steps. “What are you looking at?”
“Blossom’s trying to catch a squirrel.”
“It’s not Frankie, is it?” Rory asked, her eyes wide.
“I don’t think so. Don’t worry. Even if it is, Blossom doesn’t stand a chance.”
Eventually, Blossom came to the same conclusion and returned to them. Rory led the way to Mac’s cabin. They all left their snowshoes on the porch and went inside. The fire had been reduced to embers, but it was still well above freezing inside. Mac replenished the stove.
When he turned, Rory was holding one of the wood spirits he’d started on one particularly bad night. Although only roughed in, the expression on the spirit’s face was one of intense anger. Maybe he should take it away before it scared her.
But Rory didn’t seem scared. She studied the face, almost as though she recognized it. Ursula came to stand behind her and wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “Mac made that. He carves faces in wood.”
Rory pulled off her glove and touched the wood gingerly. “He’s mad.”
“Who’s mad?” Ursula asked.
“The man in the wood. He’s mad because his family went away and left him all alone.” Rory stroked the wood. “But somebody will be nice to him and he won’t be mad anymore.”
“You think so?” Ursula asked.
Rory nodded. “And then he’ll laugh, and the angels will be happy.”
Mac took a deep breath and slowly let it out. The simple wisdom of children. Rory had lost more than he ever had, and yet she was brave enough to laugh again.
But there was a big difference between his situation and Rory’s. Rory bore no responsibility for the death of her loved ones. She deserved to move forward and live a good and happy life. He wasn’t sure he could say the same.
* * *
ONCE THEY’D MADE it back to the B&B and had lunch, Rory was itching to get started on the promised snowman. Ursula urged them outside. “You two go ahead and get started. I’ll just tidy up and gather some accessories for Mr. Snowman.”
“It’s gonna be a girl,” Rory declared.
“Miss Snowman, then.” Ursula tugged Rory’s hat down so it better covered her ears. “Have fun.”
Rory led Mac and Blossom to an open area just past the deck, where her creation would be visible from the living room. Mac reached down and gathered a snowball. Fortunately, it had been relatively warm when it snowed, and the new snow stuck together nicely. He threw the ball at a tree, but missed. Blossom charged after the ball, digging furiously in the snow. She couldn’t seem to understand why she couldn’t find a snowball hidden within a snowdrift. Rory laughed so hard she hiccuped.
Once she’d caught her breath, Rory patted a ball together, set it on the ground and started rolling it, picking up snow as she went. Obviously not her first snowman. When the ball grew to the point she was having trouble pushing it, Mac helped her roll it to a spot directly in front of the windows. They stepped back, and Blossom jumped onto the snowball and stood there wagging her tail.
Rory giggled. “She thinks we made her a chair.”
“Or maybe a throne. We’ll let her enjoy it while we roll the next snowball.” As soon as they turned their attention away, Blossom jumped down and scurried over to see what they were doing, snuffling along behind the ball Rory was rolling.
Once Rory declared it the right size, Mac lifted the heavy ball on top of the first one, and they patted more snow around the middle. Rory was rolling the ball for a head when Ursula joined them. She’d brought the traditional carrot for a nose, along with dark polished rocks, a couple of different hats and a hank of yellow yarn.
“Where’d you get the rocks?” Mac asked.
“They were in the pot with my ficus tree. I’ll get more from the creek next summer.”
Rory carried the last snowball over to Ursula. “Look what me and Mac made.”
“It’s a big one.”
“The biggest one ever. Mac, can you put this on top? I can’t reach.”
Mac set the head in place and then held Rory up so she could arrange the carrot and rocks into a face for her snowperson. With Ursula’s help, she braided the yarn into a long rope and draped it over the head, then added a winter hat and birch branches for arms. She stood back to inspect it. “She needs ski poles.”
“There are some old ones hanging on the wall in the garage,” Ursula told her. “Why don’t you run get them?”
While they waited, Ursula came to stand beside Mac. “Nice job. Thanks for helping Rory build it.”
“No need to thank me. I enjoyed it.” And, to his surprise, Mac realized it was the truth. Rory’s energy and enthusiasm were contagious. It had been a long time since he’d done any playing.
Rory came back, carrying a pair of black ski poles. Blossom tagged along beside her, apparently no longer concerned about sticks, at least as far as Rory was concerned. Rory hooked the poles onto the branch hands so that her snow girl appeared to be skiing. She looked it over and pronounced it good. Mac pulled out his phone and took Rory’s photo, posing beside her snow creation.
Afterward, they went inside to sip hot chocolate and admire the view through the window. A raven landed on the snowgirl’s hat.
“What’s he doing?” Rory ran to the window. A minute later, the raven snatched the carrot and flew away. “Hey, that’s our carrot. Bring it back.”
Ursula laughed. “He probably needs it worse than you do. You can take another carrot out later. Or maybe a potato would be less tempting.”
Rory returned to the couch while she thought it over. “Potatoes don’t look like noses.”
Mac tapped his finger on the end of Rory’s upturned nose. “Yours doesn’t look much like a carrot either.”
“I have some hot peppers,” Ursula said. “Maybe that would discourage the raven.”
Rory accepted a green jalapeño and ran outside to replace the carrot. It looked good. Mac decided all snowmen should have pepper noses. “I can’t wait to see the raven’s reaction if he tries to steal it.”
The sun had set and the three of them were in the kitchen washing the hot chocolate mugs when the motion-sensing light over the garage flashed on.
“Oh, good,” Ursula said. “That means the power’s restored. I’ll go shut down the generator.”
Mac set the last mug in the drainer. “Guess I’d better head home.” Not that he wanted to. He’d found a little interlude of tranquility here at Ursula’s inn with her and Rory. He realized, with a pang of guilt, that he’d almost forgotten about Andi’s murder for a day. But he didn’t want to forget. The killer was still out there. Mac hadn’t been able to keep his daughter safe, but he was going to do whatever it took to make sure her murderer was caught and punished. He shouldn’t be having fun while Joel Thaine was free.
“Stay for supper,” Ursula urged.
“No. I need to go.” Mac slipped into his coat and hat and shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
Rory ran to give him a hug. “I can build a snowman at your house tomorrow if you want.”
“I don’t think so.” Mac patted her head. “But thank you for the offer. And thank you for sharing your home with me.” He bent to fasten Blossom’s coat.
“Bye, Blossom.” Rory hugged the dog. “Remember to give Mac lots of kisses.”
Mac almost let it go, but his curiosity won out. “Why should Blossom give me lots of kisses?”
Rory gave him a pitying look, like the answer should be obvious. “Because dog kisses make you laugh,” she said. “And laughing makes the angels happy.”