AS IT TURNED OUT, the meteorologists were wrong. The promised eight inches of snow had already grown to ten by the time Mac let Blossom out the next morning. It had topped a foot and was still coming down when Mac went out to shovel the steps and the path to the garage. Shoveling while it snowed was bound to be an exercise in futility but he figured he’d better get a jump on it before it got too deep to handle. He’d wait until it stopped to fire up the snowblower and clear the driveway.
He added a smear of horseradish sauce to his meat-loaf sandwich for lunch and enjoyed it so much he made and consumed another. He’d earned it, shoveling all that snow.
Two hours later, the steps had disappeared under another six inches, and Mac was strapping on Blossom’s coat so they could go out to shovel again when the lights blinked and went out. Great. At least he had the woodstove to keep the house warm, although that might mean sleeping on the couch.
He finished another round of shoveling. The snow had stopped, but the electricity was still out. With no microwave to nuke a frozen dinner, that probably meant another meat-loaf sandwich. He could think of worst fates.
Now for a cup of coffee. Oh, right—no electric coffee maker. He weighed his options. The snowplow hadn’t been by, so he wasn’t getting into Seward. The woodstove didn’t get hot enough to boil water. He hadn’t brought camping equipment along so he didn’t have a portable stove. Or a barbecue grill. What was he thinking, moving to the middle of nowhere without an emergency backup plan? Obviously, he wasn’t thinking.
Ursula seemed like someone who would own a spare camp stove, although he hated to impose on her again. But they were neighbors, and they’d agreed that neighbors help each other. Blossom nudged his hand, reminding him her afternoon dog biscuit shouldn’t depend on his ability to make coffee. He tossed her the treat. “So what do you think? Should we call Ursula?”
At the mention of Ursula’s name, Blossom wagged her tail. Mac dialed the number. The phone rang several times and he was getting ready to leave a message when Ursula’s voice came on the line.
“Mac?” She sounded flustered.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“I was just about to call you. Your power’s out, too, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m having some trouble here. Do you know anything about engines?”
“A little.” Having grown up on a ranch, Mac had worked on truck and tractor engines, but it had been a long time since he’d gotten grease under his nails. “Why? Are you going somewhere?”
“Not in this snow. No, I’m having trouble getting the emergency generator started. Could I possibly impose on you to take a look?”
“Sure, I could do that.”
“Thank you.” He could hear the relief in her voice. “The shortest way here is along the trail with snowshoes.”
“Rory hasn’t given me my snowshoe lesson.”
She laughed. “It’s not hard. Just strap them on your boots and take it slow. Oh, wait. Why were you calling in the first place?”
“I was hoping to cadge a cup of coffee, or maybe a spare camp stove,” Mac admitted.
“I cook with propane, so I’ll make you coffee and then you can borrow my camp stove. Better yet, bring Blossom and your stuff and plan to stay over. Your cabin is all-electric. I have a propane furnace, so if we can get the generator going to run the fan, we’ll have heat here.”
His kitchen was already growing dark. He was tempted. “Do you have room?”
“Plenty. I had one reservation and they cancelled. I don’t know if you heard, but there’s an avalanche blocking the Seward highway, so nobody’s getting to or from Anchorage for a while. Power lines are down all over, so they might not get to us for a couple of days.”
“I hadn’t heard. Okay, I’ll bank the fire so the plumbing doesn’t freeze and be over there as soon as I can make it.”
* * *
ONCE SHE KNEW Mac was on the way, Ursula abandoned the dead generator and returned to the house. Rory was where she’d left her, drawing pictures at the kitchen table by the light of a battery lantern, but she looked relieved when Ursula walked in.
Ursula checked the heat under the stockpot simmering at the back of the stove. “I can’t make the generator work, but Mac said he’d come over and see if he can get it running.”
Rory added a tail to the horse she’d drawn. “You know, Mac’s nice. He’s not a grouch at all.”
“I agree. Do you want to help me get the house ready for the generator?”
Together they made the rounds, turning off or unplugging all the electronics and most of the lights. The generator was powerful enough to power the furnace fan, refrigerator and freezer, but not a lot extra, and Ursula had been warned power fluctuations were bad for televisions and computers. She’d already explained to Rory that the television wouldn’t be available even when they got the generator started. That is if Mac could get it running.
Rory wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s getting cold in here.”
“Let’s go put on some more clothes.” Once they’d bundled up with thermal underwear and extra sweaters, they carried in a load of logs from the woodpile, and Ursula soon had a blaze going in the great room fireplace. Van Gogh appeared from wherever he had been hiding and curled up on Rory’s lap on the rug in front of the fire. Ursula switched on several battery candles and scattered them around the room.
“There. Now we’re nice and cozy. Maybe we’ll make popcorn in the fireplace tonight.” Rory seemed to be buying Ursula’s attempt at making this all a fun adventure. In truth, she was worried. They weren’t going to freeze, but if they couldn’t get the generator going they might be in for an uncomfortable few days. She could only hope Mac knew more about diesel generators than she did. She had the generator checked every autumn before the snow fell, but this year the guy who usually did it was out of state on some family emergency when she’d called, and she’d forgotten to follow up.
Mac should arrive soon. She left Rory by the fire and went to the kitchen to light the burner under the teakettle and dig a French press from the back of the cabinet. While waiting for the water to boil, she scrounged a motley collection of candles from the pantry and set them on a tray to distribute around the inn, just in case.
She heard Rory running toward the front door. Before Ursula could make it from the kitchen, Rory had already let Mac inside and was brushing sticky snow from Blossom’s coat all over the entryway rug. Ursula didn’t care; she was just thrilled to see them.
“You made it.” She was surprised at the relief she felt. She had no guests to worry about, and it wasn’t as though she and Rory would die without electricity. They could stay warm by the fire and had ice chests to keep the refrigerated food cold. If necessary, she could put the frozen food outside until power returned and melt snow on the stove if the pipes froze. But it still felt good to have an ally. “You must have figured out the snowshoes.”
“I did.” Mac puffed. “Snowshoeing is hard work. Between that and shoveling, I’ve had my workout today. Now, where’s this generator?”
“In the back, but come in first for that cup of coffee. The kettle’s on. Once you’ve warmed up, we can take a look.”
“I didn’t have to go to school today,” Rory told Mac. “It’s a snow day. But Ursula said we have to wait to go snowshoeing ’cause she had a bunch of stuff she had to do with all the snow and no ’lectricity. I helped her carry the wood for the fire.”
“Good for you. Ursula’s lucky to have you.” He and the dog followed Rory toward the hearth.
Ursula hung their coats and his backpack on hooks near the fire to dry. “Have a seat. I’ll bring the coffee in here. It’s the warmest spot in the house. Rory, do you want hot chocolate?”
“With marshmallows?”
“Of course. Mac, coffee or hot chocolate?”
“Coffee for me, but are you sure you don’t want to get the generator going first?”
“It can wait a few more minutes.” Besides, if she didn’t stop and regain her composure first, she might just take a wrench and beat the stupid thing into a modern sculpture. “I’ll be right back.”
She arranged a tray with mugs of coffee, Rory’s hot chocolate and a plate of oatmeal cookies she’d taken from the freezer that morning and carried it to the great room.
Mac cleared space on the coffee table for her to set the tray. He picked up a mug and took a sip. “Thank you. I needed this.”
“Have a cookie. They’re cranberry oatmeal with almonds.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Blossom had stretched out on the hearthrug, with Van Gogh pressed against her belly like a cat-skin blanket. Rory sat beside them, stroking the dog’s head. Blossom opened one eye to watch Mac eat the cookie, but apparently deciding he wasn’t likely to share, she shut it again.
Ursula handed Rory her cup and a cookie before sinking into one of the chairs. She sipped her coffee, feeling some of the tension slip away as she watched Mac devour another cookie. He looked right at home in the firelight, wearing a wool shirt in a classic black-and-yellow plaid.
“Is that your family tartan?”
“Aye, ’tis the Macleod dress.” Mac grinned. “Are you Scottish?” He handed her the plate and she took a cookie.
“No, just an admirer of beautiful fabric. Do you have a kilt, as well?”
He laughed. “I don’t. Andi tried to talk me into getting one when we visited Scotland, but I just can’t see myself in a skirt.”
“When did you go to Scotland?” She nibbled on the cookie.
“The summer after Andi’s senior year of high school. I wanted to see our ancestral home. She wanted to meet cute Scottish boys. We compromised.”
“Oh?” She had a feeling Mac would not have been a permissive father, especially when it came to boys. “How?”
“She agreed to accompany me to castles and museums, and I agreed not to accompany her to a cèilidh she attended with a distant cousin. And she didn’t have to taste haggis.”
“Sounds like a fair deal to me.”
“What’s haggis?” Rory asked.
“Oatmeal and sheep liver cooked in sheep stomach.”
“Yuck!” Rory shuddered. “Did you eat it?”
“I did.” Mac grinned. “It’s not quite as bad as it sounds.”
Ursula laughed. “I don’t see how it could be.”
Mac stood and reached for his coat. “Well, now that I’m fortified with caffeine and cookies, let’s take a look at that generator.”
* * *
MAC ZIPPED HIS coat while Ursula gave careful instructions forbidding Rory to touch the doors of the fireplace. “You can dog-sit Blossom while Mac and I are outside, okay?”
“Okay.” Rory set her empty cup on the table and draped herself across Blossom with her arms around the dog’s neck. Blossom thumped her tail against the ground.
“Thanks.” Mac smiled as Blossom raised her ears as if considering whether she should beg to go with him, and then lowered them again, content to stay by the fire with Rory.
They were halfway to the door when Ursula paused and looked back. “Rory, no treats for the dog while we’re gone.”
“Aww.”
“Too many treats could make her sick. Promise?”
Rory gave a dramatic sigh. “I promise.”
Satisfied, Ursula turned and led him through the back door to the generator. An open toolbox lay nearby. She aimed a powerful flashlight at the engine while he bent over to inspect it. It was trying to start but he couldn’t get it to catch, and working in the cold and dark wasn’t helping. Ursula stamped her feet. Mac’s felt frozen, too.
He straightened. “It might be a blocked fuel supply line. Do you have any spray lubricant?”
“I think so. Come with me and tell me what you need.”
He followed her into the still-warm garage. The can of lube he needed was right in front on one of the shelves, although he was almost tempted to pretend he couldn’t find it just to enjoy a few more minutes of warmth. But the sooner they finished, the sooner they could return to the fire. He grabbed the can.
Twenty minutes later, Mac had cleared the line and reassembled the generator. “Here goes nothing.”
“Fingers crossed.” Ursula bounced on her toes as she waited.
Mac pressed the starter, and the engine roared to life. He grinned and turned toward Ursula. She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Mac!”
Considering how many layers of clothes they were both wearing, there was no way he could have felt her body heat, and yet the hug warmed him. She stepped back, still beaming. “You’re a miracle worker.”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “Aw, shucks, ma’am.”
She laughed. “Come on, cowboy. I left a pot of beef stew simmering on the stove, and you’ve certainly earned your keep tonight. Let’s go in where it’s warm.”
They picked up the tools and dropped them off in the garage on their way into the house, where they found Rory and Blossom engaged in a rowdy game involving a tennis ball and a lot of running and giggling. The flickering light of the fire and candles created shadows where the girl and dog would hide and then reappear into the light. Blossom had the ball in her mouth, but it wasn’t clear who was chasing whom.
Ursula stopped with her eyebrows raised and watched as they dashed under one of the dining tables in the great room. Mac expected her to call a halt to the roughhousing, but she just laughed and removed a glass bowl from the buffet table. “I’d better take this to the kitchen for safekeeping. You and Blossom need to run off your energy, because supper’s in fifteen minutes, okay?”
“’Kay.” Rory vaulted over the couch. Blossom, who wasn’t allowed on furniture, barked and ran around to meet her on the other side. Ursula smiled and shook her head. “Come on, Mac. Let’s have a glass of that Bordeaux while the wild things play in here.”
He followed her to the kitchen, where she put away the bowl and stirred the soup while he poured the wine. He handed her a glass, and she clinked it against his. “To good neighbors.”
“Good neighbors, indeed.” Mac sipped his wine.
In the other room, a loud bark was followed by a squeal and more giggles. Ursula winced. “We usually have rules about running in the house, but since I don’t have guests and she’s been shut in all day long, I figure today is an exception.”
“It’s a snow day. Everyone knows the usual rules don’t apply to snow days.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
The stew was excellent. Of course, based on his experience with Ursula’s cooking, Mac had expected nothing less. She served it with crusty bread that was probably homemade and more cookies for dessert. He fed the dog and insisted on helping wash the dishes, while Ursula dried and Rory wiped the table.
Rory came to tug on Ursula’s hand. “Can I watch a movie?”
“No. Remember I told you no television when we’re on generator power.”
“Then what are we gonna do?”
“Do you have a deck of cards?” Mac asked.
“Sure.” Ursula found a deck in one of the kitchen drawers.
Mac sat at the table. “I know a game called concentration.”
“What’s that?” Rory asked.
“I’ll show you.” Mac shuffled and laid out the cards in rows. “Turn over two cards. If they match, you get to keep them. If they don’t, turn them back over. The person with the most matches wins. You go first.”
Rory turned over a queen and a five. “They don’t match.”
“That’s okay,” Mac said. “Remember where you saw them and turn them back over.”
Ursula came to sit with them. “May I play?”
“Of course.” Mac smiled. “You’re next.”
Ursula turned over a two and a seven. Mac turned an ace and a queen. “No match.”
Rory bounced in her seat. She could hardly wait for him to turn the cards back over before she flipped the queen she’d uncovered and the one Mac had turned. “I got a match!”
“Good job. Since you made a match, you get to go again.”
They played on, the tip of Rory’s tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth as she memorized the positions of all the cards. At the end of the game, she was the clear winner with fourteen matches. Ursula had four and Mac had eight.
“Wow.” Ursula shuffled the cards. “I don’t know how you remembered where all those cards were hiding.”
Mac smiled. “Amazing, isn’t it? Andi used to beat me regularly when she was this age. Must be something about a young mind and visual memory.”
“Who’s Andi?” Rory asked. “You talked about her before.”
Mac’s heart tightened, but he kept smiling for Rory’s sake. “My daughter, Andrea. Everyone called her Andi for short.”
“Rory is short for Aurora,” Rory explained.
“Aurora is a beautiful name.”
“Does Andi live in your house?”
“No.” Mac sucked in a slow breath. Ursula was watching him with sympathetic eyes. “Andi died.”
The corners of Rory’s mouth turned downward. “Do you miss her?”
Mac nodded. “Every day.”
“My mom and dad died, too. And my grandma.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I miss them, too.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Ursula says it’s okay to be sad sometimes because you miss people, but they don’t want you to be sad all the time. They want you to be happy, ’cause they love you. Laughing makes angels happy. And even though you can’t see them anymore, you can still love each other.”
“Yes.” It was all Mac could choke out.
Rory slipped off her chair and came to hug him. “We can be sad together.”
Tears now flowed freely from Ursula’s eyes. Blossom got up from the rug where she’d been lying to push her head between Mac and Rory and lick Rory’s tears away. Rory giggled. “Blossom says we should stop crying.”
Mac stroked the dog’s head. “She’s probably right.”
Ursula reached for a box of tissues and everyone took a moment to blow noses and wipe cheeks. Rory settled into her chair at the table. “Do you want to play again?”
“Okay.” Mac began laying out the cards. “But this time I’m going to win.”
* * *
AFTER THE NEXT GAME, which Mac did indeed win, Ursula flicked on a battery-powered radio to check on the news. Crews were still working to clear the avalanche, and the road into Seward was not yet plowed. School was cancelled.
Rory cheered. “No school tomorrow, so I can sleep.”
“I guess so.” Interesting. Ursula hadn’t noticed Rory was particularly fond of sleeping in.
“That means I get to stay up late.”
Ah, that’s where this was going. “Why do you want to stay up late?”
“I want to keep playing with Mac.”
Well, why not? They both seemed to be enjoying it, and goodness knows, they deserved a little fun. Ursula smiled. “I guess we can play a little longer. I’m starting to get the hang of it now. Maybe I’ll win this round.”
She didn’t, but it didn’t matter. They paused the card game long enough to pop popcorn in the fire, and then Rory and Mac duked it out for the title of Concentration Champion. At the end of the night, Mac had won two, Rory three, and Ursula came in second once. By that time, Rory was about to fall asleep in her chair.
“Bedtime,” Ursula announced. “You can skip a bath tonight, but you need to brush your teeth.”
Rory managed to change into her pajamas and take a few swipes with her toothbrush before Ursula tucked her into bed. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. She looked like an angel, blond hair shimmering in the nightlight, her mouth relaxed in a small smile. Peaceful.
Ursula returned to the kitchen, where Mac had put away the cards and was staring out the window. “Is she asleep?” He spoke without turning.
“Yes. She’s resting easy tonight.”
“I’m sorry if I upset her earlier, talking about Andi.”
“You didn’t. In fact, I think she found it comforting to realize she wasn’t the only one who’s lost family. It makes her feel less alone.”
He continued to stare into the darkness. Ursula boiled the kettle. “I’m having a cup of chamomile tea. Want some?”
“No, thanks. Not a fan of herbal teas.” Mac turned toward her. “How did Rory end up here, with you?”
Ursula added her teabag to the cup and settled at the table. “It’s a long story.”
Mac sat down in the chair next to hers and leaned forward. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well, it started a little over eight years ago, when I was still living in Anchorage. Rory’s grandmother Gen Houston was a good friend of mine. She lived in Soldotna, but was in Anchorage having lunch with me when her son, Coby, called to say his wife, Kendall, was having their baby a little earlier than expected. We went straight to the hospital.” She smiled. “Rory was beautiful, even as a newborn.”
“I’ll bet.”
“There were complications, with an emergency C-section and ultimately Kendall had to have more surgery. They needed lots of help while Kendall recovered, so Gen and I took turns with baby care and housework. Coby couldn’t afford to spend too much time away from work. They’d just opened a ski store a few months before.”
“No wonder they made you godmother.”
“Gen passed away a couple of years ago, so I’d sort of been filling the role of Rory’s grandmother, too.”
Mac frowned in concentration. “Coby Houston. Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Do you follow winter sports?”
“A Nordic skier, right? Seems like he did some human-interest stuff about Alaska. That would have been about ten years ago.”
Ursula nodded. “He was on the team that took bronze in the sprint.”
“Kendall—not Kendall Normand? The freestyle skier?”
“That’s the one.”
“I remember her. Amazing talent in the aerials. She could almost fly. As I recall, after she won the medal,, she was on every talk show for a while and appeared in a commercial or two. Then it seemed like she dropped out of sight.”
“Yes. When she got pregnant, they decided to move to Alaska and settle down, to try to have a normal life.”
“What happened to them?”
“Faulty furnace. They’d been living in an apartment but decided they wanted more room and a yard for Rory, so they moved into a rental house. It was old but had a lot of square footage. They didn’t realize anything was amiss for the first month. Then the first real cold snap came along.”
Ursula’s throat tightened, thinking about what came next. A happy family, gone overnight. She took a swallow of tea to clear her throat before continuing. “Thank goodness Rory had heard a cat crying outside. She’d opened the window and it got stuck so she couldn’t get it closed. That’s what saved her.”
Mac’s face looked thunderous. “Didn’t the landlord have the furnace checked? And put in carbon monoxide detectors?”
“Apparently not.” Ursula shook her head. “His insurance paid a settlement. It’s in an account for Rory when she’s ready to go to college. Doesn’t bring her family back, though.”
“Didn’t Kendall have family? I seem to remember her parents getting quite a bit of airtime during the big competitions.”
“Parents.” Ursula scoffed. “Yes. Kendall’s parents were milking her success for everything it was worth. After she retired, they weren’t interested anymore.” Once, when she and Kendall were folding laundry together, Kendall had told her the story. “Her mother was a figure skater. Almost world championship caliber. Almost. She was convinced she would have been the best if only her parents had started her earlier and given her better training. She married a wealthy man, and from the time Kendall was born, her mother was grooming her to be a winner.
“When she was two, they had Kendall on the ice and learning gymnastics. They entered her in skating competitions as soon as she qualified. She was good, but not good enough. She would never be a world-class skater. Then they discovered she had talent for skiing. Freestyle was just taking off, and Kendall’s mother was shrewd enough to see an opportunity there. So they moved to Colorado where Kendall could train.”
“And she grew up to medal.”
“She got silver. Not good enough for her mother. She informed Kendall she was to devote the next four years to perfecting herself. But for once, Kendall rebelled. She started dating this Nordic skier she’d met at the competition. Coby adored her. I think it was the first time in her life Kendall had ever experienced unconditional love.”
“And she felt the same about him?”
“She did, but her mother was pressuring her to break it off with him and focus on her skiing. Then Kendall got pregnant. She and Coby decided they wanted their child to have a normal childhood, so they married and moved to Alaska where he’d grown up. Kendall’s parents were furious. They squawked and threatened, and finally disowned her. They’ve never even seen Rory.”
“Even after the accident?”
“They sent a lawyer, but Coby and Kendall had wills appointing Rory’s grandmother Gen as guardian, and me as contingent. They didn’t try to dispute it.”
“I can’t imagine they why wouldn’t want to see their own granddaughter.”
“I can’t either. The only explanation I can come up with is to their way of thinking, she’s what kept Kendall from going after that top podium.”
“It sounds as though Rory’s better off without them in her life.” Mac laid his hand over Ursula’s. “I’m glad she has you.”