After a great night’s sleep, Liz was ready to tackle the cabin again, only she really didn’t have the clothes for this kind of weather. Or that dirty work. One of the many things that had been on Liz’s to-do list had been to become more active. Working on that cabin had been a good workout. She could feel the soreness in her arm muscles today. At least there wasn’t a budget or timeline for activity, and she didn’t have to rely on anyone but herself to succeed.
She googled the closest clothing store that might sell some suitable work attire. There was a farm store in the next town. She put the address in her GPS. It didn’t take but about twenty minutes to get there.
She grabbed a shopping cart and started browsing. They had a great selection of flannel-lined jeans, thick socks, and hiking boots to keep her warm, and the price was sure right.
An aisle of bird feeders caught her eye. She turned and added one to her cart, along with an outdoor thermometer to hang outside her window. It would be nice to know just how cold or warm it was outside. She tossed a couple of dog bones in her cart for Elvis. Maybe someday she’d get a dog of her own. She imagined a little Yorkie for a moment, then replaced that idea with a friendly, outgoing Labrador retriever. Maybe a chocolate one. A Lab would be a much better choice. She could even make him part of the hiking excursions.
She pushed the cart to the checkout, liking the idea of a job that didn’t require her to be on the road half the month.
A woman with beautiful red hair stopped her cart right next to Liz. “Hi. You’re Liz, right?”
“Yes.” Liz looked around. The stranger had to be talking to her. “I am. Yes.”
“You bought the old inn over in Antler Creek, right? I heard you were related to the original owners.”
“I was. Did you know them?”
“I didn’t, but my husband grew up in Antler Creek. He’s over there getting horse feed for his folks. He said he recognized you from church. It’s all he and his parents have talked about. If you need any help let me know. My name is Ginger. I live in Antler Creek. Right in the middle of town.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“My kids are in school until three, so I could help during the day if you need me.”
“Oh, well I’ve got a contractor working on the house,” Liz said.
“I didn’t mean for a job, I meant just to help. Ya know, run an errand for you. Talk? Whatever. I’m crafty and pretty good at putting things together. I’ve got time.”
“Thank you. That’s so nice.”
Ginger shifted from foot to foot. “You know what, I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy just walking up and offering that. My husband is always saying I don’t know a stranger. Sorry.”
“No. Not at all.” Well, maybe a little. It definitely caught me off guard, but it’s sweet. “It’s nice. Neighborly. I appreciate it, actually.”
“What am I thinking? I know!” The woman rolled her eyes, but then grinned. “The kids and I are baking Christmas cookies this afternoon. Why don’t you come over and help? A couple of the other moms are bringing their kids too. It’ll give you a chance to meet some neighbors.”
Liz’s first inclination was to decline, but really there was nothing holding her to the house today. “You know what. I’d love to come.”
Ginger squealed as she jotted down her address, then gave Liz turn-by-turn directions.
“What can I bring?”
“Just yourself. We’ll have so much fun.”
“I’m really looking forward to it.” Liz felt more at home here already than she did in Charlotte the whole time she’d lived there. And it wasn’t just the house and the surrounding nature anymore. It was the people.
She swung by the market on her way home and headed for the baking aisle to pick up a few extra cookie decorations for the kids. You could never have too many decorations for cookies. Plus, those little silver dragées had always been her favorites.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Liz drove down to Ginger’s house. It was a well-maintained house with beautiful holly bushes at each edge of the wide welcoming porch, and a cheerful pop of bright red on the front door. She gathered her bag of cookie decorations and walked to the door.
The wreath was a hoop of shiny Christmas ornaments in silver, gold, and green with a fluffy shimmering white bow. She pressed the doorbell, which promptly responded with the instrumental of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Ginger opened the door, revealing three children peeking out from around her hips.
“Come on in!” She swept the children back to clear the way and led Liz into the kitchen. Four other women were already there, with bowls of dough and cookie sheets in front of them. The kids must’ve ranged from two to twelve. They were moving around so much she couldn’t even do a head count. And this is before the sugar, she thought, as she held her bag of additional sugary decorations.
For two hours, moms took cookie sheets in and out of the oven in eight-to-ten-minute intervals, and the kids decorated in an assembly line like little elves at the North Pole on steroids. Colorful decorated cookies were piling up all around them.
Liz had never seen so many fresh baked cookies in one place in her life.
“It’s almost time to start delivering cookies!” Ginger announced. The children bounced with excitement, but they seemed to have the drill down pat. Each grabbed a paper plate. They lined up single-file, then marched around the table taking one cookie each lap until they had six on their plate. Then, one of the moms wrapped each plate with plastic wrap. The final step was to put a sticker with a picture of Santa on top.
Ginger brought in two laundry baskets lined with towels. The children placed the wrapped plates in the baskets one at a time.
“Hello,” a man’s voice came from the front of the house.
Liz had expected to meet Ginger’s husband, but instead it was Matt who walked into the kitchen. He was everywhere.
“Oh?” He did a visible double take. “Liz? Hey. I didn’t know you knew—”
“She didn’t,” Ginger said. “I saw her at the store this morning and told her she had to come.”
Liz waved to him from across the room. “Hi, again.”
“Well, let’s get this show on the road, how about it?” Matt clapped his hands. “Who’s ready?”
The kids cheered so loud it tickled Liz’s ears.
“Let’s go then,” Matt said. The kids swarmed him, and he looked like he loved every minute of it.
He stacked the laundry baskets one on top of the other and headed outside with a parade of little bodies following behind him.
Liz took out her camera and snapped a picture. Absolutely precious.
He piled everyone into the back of his pickup, including the moms, but Ginger rode up front with all the addresses, and Liz climbed in the seat behind Matt.
Matt honked the horn, which apparently was the signal that they were getting ready to take off, because the kids hit the deck.
“Merchants or homes first?” Matt asked Ginger.
“Let’s do the merchants first. That’ll give people more time to get home before we get there.”
“Here we go.” Matt pulled the truck out of Ginger’s driveway and headed for Main Street.
At each stop the moms spotted the kids as they tumbled out of the truck to go in and wish the merchant a Merry Christmas, hand over a plate of cookies, and then sing one quick round of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” before racing back to the truck in a fit of giggles.
Matt stood at the truck bed lifting the kids one by one back into the truck and securing the tailgate.
At the end of the evening they’d covered a pretty good bit of the town. Ginger and her team of little ones and friends had definitely spread good cheer here tonight.
When all was done, Liz helped Ginger clean up her kitchen. It took some elbow grease to get up all the dried sprinkles and icing, but together they made fun work of it.
“Thank you for inviting me over,” Liz said. “I’ve had such a great night. Count me in on this tradition next year too.”
“Thanks for not thinking I’m some kind of crazy nut. I really enjoyed spending time with you too. Everyone really likes you. We’re glad you’re going to be around.”
The kind words poured over Liz in a way she hadn’t expected. “Thank you.” Her own words came out quiet. “I’m going to head out, but if I can ever help out you let me know.”
“Ditto.” Ginger walked over and gave Liz a big hug. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” She turned and picked up a little red tin that was sitting on the kitchen counter. “This is my own special recipe. Just for you.”
Of course it is. I love this place. “Thank you.”
It was late when Liz got back home. The snow was slick and shiny under the bright moon and stars tonight. She stepped carefully, trying to keep her footing.
The fire had fizzled out while she was gone, but it was still comfortable in the cabin.
It was still early on the West Coast. She called her parents. “Hi, Mom.”
“Liz, everything okay?”
“Yes. I just helped a group of kids bake cookies and deliver them all over Antler Creek. It was amazing.”
“Awww.” Mom sighed on the other end of the phone. “You really are just like your grandmother. That would’ve made me crazy. All those kids running around.”
“Just the opposite. They were so sweet. Yeah, hyped up on sugar, but still … I can’t believe how alive I feel up here, Mom. I love this place.”
“You always did,” she said quietly. “Want to talk to your dad?”
“No. Just tell him I said hello. I love you and miss y’all.”
“We love you too, Liz. Good night.”
She hung up the phone, glad that for once Mom hadn’t turned the phone call into a lecture of some sort. She warmed up a plate of Sonny’s chicken and biscuit cobbler in the little microwave while she set out to try to build her first fire on her own.
It wasn’t quite as easy as Matt made it look. She ran through quite a few of those rolled newspapers before one of the logs finally caught fire. But finally one spark led to another and the fire started licking the air in pretty orangey-red flames.
She settled on the floor in front of the fireplace with the savory cobbler, wishing she’d done this two years ago.