Copper Mountain, Colorado, 1885
One week before Christmas
Belly-down on the plush carpet before her, head resting on her hands, Carol was humming as she read, swinging her little feet in time with her hums. If Noelle ever saw a happy child in her life, it was Carol. She wore one of her black and red flannel winter dresses, her hair braided away from her face and in a crown around her head. A bright red bow graced the side of the crown-braid, painting her as the perfect Christmas Carol. Noelle giggled at her pun, drawing an inquisitive look from Carol.
“Sorry, it’s nothing,” Noelle waved her off, a small smile still playing on her lips. The girl continued reading her book, content with losing herself in the fictional worlds she so preferred to theirs.
She looked down at the red ball of yarn in her hands, the smallest bit of a shape forming in her knitting work, a wonderfully bright hat for Nicholas to protect his ears from the cold. She had not once spotted him with a hat, so she’d decided to gift him one. Though as she never did get his measurements, she decided to go for three and a half of her hand’s widths. However, looking at it now, she wondered if it would be too much.
They hadn’t discussed if they were giving each other Christmas presents or not, and she wondered if it would be an overstep of boundaries were she to give him one. Did one give their love interest a gift? Although she supposed she couldn’t phrase it that way considering she had no idea what they were, and even less where they were headed. Noelle sighed, the red bundle in her hands suddenly no longer a festive gift, but rather a proposition she hadn’t thought to present.
“Are you and Nicholas sweethearts?” Carol suddenly asked, startling Noelle from her deep dive into her courting, or not courting, Nicholas. She shook her head, clucking her tongue at the thought.
“No, honeybee. Not at all.” She leaned forward, putting the semi-knitted hat down on the coffee table beside her. Her cheeks were blazing, no doubt leaving a red flush from her neck to her forehead as embarrassment took over her body. “Why do you ask?”
Carol shrugged her flannel-clad shoulders, pulling her face as if she were closer to an old man than a 6-year-old girl. “It looks like it sometimes.”
Noelle’s back straightened, her eyes growing wide as saucers, “What makes you say that?”
She shrugged again, her eyes no longer focused on Noelle but on the book laying open in front of her on the mat. “He looks at you the way Papa looked at Mama.”
Cracks like those in a glacier appeared in her heart, sadness leaking from them as her heart bled for the girl. She had known real love then, before her life had been changed forever. Noelle was grateful for it, that she had experienced that deep connection, so that she may one day find the same for herself.
“That is beautiful, honeybee.” Noelle said, leaving the denial for another day. “I’m a very lucky woman then.”
Carol looked up from her book, smiling happily at Noelle, before she returned to her fictional world again. She returned to her knitting, her mind no longer keen on focusing on Nicholas any longer. So she continued with her hat, hoping that she hadn’t overstepped a boundary.
Later in the afternoon, Nicholas arrived and announced his presence with a particularly perky knock. He wore a grin when she opened the door, her own gracing her face when she laid her eyes upon him. He was dressed in tight-fitting warm clothes, a plain black beanie on his head. In his left hand, he held some peppermint candy for Carol, she assumed, and the right was hidden behind his back. He looked particularly handsome today, his whiskey brown eyes alight with childlike excitement. It was only after he had stepped inside that she realized why, as Nicholas pulled a pair of old skates from behind his back. Noelle gasped, Carol squealing in delight.
“What do you say, ladies, up for some skating?” He asked, cheerfully. “These are my old skates from when I was a boy—they should fit.” He held one skate up in the air, shutting an eye as he tried to measure the skate against Carol’s foot.
Noelle was ecstatic, rushing upstairs to grab a coat for herself and Carol, along with her own pair of skates—she hadn’t been able to use them for years. Henry had never been fond of her hobbies, arguing that they took too much time away from her household chores. She’d argued only once.
They were out the door in minutes, Noelle seated on Goliath, and Carol and Nicholas mounted on River. She had a new blanket draped over her back, a nice patterned one with shades of brown, turquoise, and red. It complemented her coat beautifully, making her look exotic, like something out of a fairytale.
“There’s a frozen pond just a ways from here,” Noelle pointed towards the back of the house at the woods that sprawled there. “I used to skate there. It’s as smooth as you’ll ever get.”
Nicholas nodded. “Lead the way, your Majesty.”
Noelle rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at a giggling Carol. She shot them a look, glancing at them where they hung back. A mischievous smile played about her lips, her yip of joy echoing off the snow-capped trees as she spurred Goliath into a gallop. Her hair was loose, whipping in the wind and into her face when she glanced back at them, Nicholas’ maniacal smile lighting up his chiseled face as he chased after her. Carol hung on for dear life, slightly terrified but yipping along with her.
She let go of the reins, adjusting her seat as she did, and spread her arms. The wind tucked into her side, making her skin pebble with goosebumps, but she didn’t care one bit. Noelle breathed the cold Colorado air into her lungs, her eyes stinging, and felt for the first time in years, what it was to be free. Goliath’s gallops were hard beneath her, and she was sure she would be sore, but all she cared about at that moment was having the freedom to do whatever she wanted—she could skate, bake, shop, and decorate whatever she wanted in her home. She felt like a new person, like a newborn taking its first breath.
Noelle rode that high until they came upon the pond, having slowed down to weave through the thicket of trees that they needed to go through in order to access the pond. It lay sprawled before them, a thick layer of ice covering the waters beneath. It was utterly smooth aside from some branches littering the glittery surface. The sun’s rays peeking through the thicket of trees to play on the ice, creating a wondrous collection of sparkling colors.
Carol gasped when she saw the fairytale-like pond, her eyes growing when the light hit it the right way and made tiny little rainbows reflecting off the snow, onto the trees around. It looked like something out of a true Christmas story—magical and seemingly impossible.
Nicholas dismounted his horse, hitching her to the tree adjacent to them after he’d lifted Carol from her back. River huffed, pawing at the ground before she reached her neck high enough to nubble some of the needles from the tree. He sighed, his hands placed on his hips as he drank in the scene before them.
“This might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen,” Nicholas said, swinging his gaze toward her and keeping it there. Noelle nodded, breaking eye contact and looking over the pond again,
“You might be right,” she said, swinging a leg over the back of Goliath, boots crunching in the thick snow as she dismounted. She hitched him right next River, the two of them content being so close to each other. Carol had already started to remove her boots, complaining when the cold bit at her toes and threatened to snap them off. Noelle went over, covering the child’s toes with her warm hands as Nicholas retrieved her skates from River’s saddle.
They made quick work of tying her skates, making sure they fit perfectly to support her ankle and didn’t squeeze her feet too tightly. They were the perfect fit, as if they had been specially made for her, and hadn’t been worn by a boy once before. Noelle soon put her own skates on, followed by Nicholas, and they hit the ice together, with Carol dangled between them.
She was not as uncertain as Noelle had thought she would be, the girl quickly letting go of their hands to make laps around the pond. It was decent enough in size that she could enjoy herself without bumping into them at all.
“Where’d you learn how to skate, honeybee?” Noelle asked as the girl came past them, a whirlwind blasting by their very calm skating selves. Carol stood still for a moment—or rather, she wiggled her legs in one place as she answered, which she supposed couldn’t be classified as still.
“Mama used to take me to a pond in the park. She was the best skater ever.” Her voice became high pitched as memories resurfaced. “She used to twirl and jump, and she did this thing where she lifted her foot above her head and spun around. It was amazing…”
The girl was in awe, recounting everything her mother had taught her before she’d passed away. Her voice grew more excited as she spoke, Noelle having had to increase her skating speed just to keep up.
“I can’t do all of the things she showed me yet, but I think when I’m older, it'll be easier.” Carol twirled slightly, careening to the side and back as she struggled to complete the turn.
“Of course you will,” Noelle nodded, taking her hand to assist in the turn. “You’re going to be the best skater ever.”
Before she could say anymore, Carol skated away, in her own little world. Noelle’s eyes were glued to her, to the red cheeks flushed with excitement and exhaustion, and the smile that never seemed to really go away. She saw Carol there, the little girl that very rarely let the world get her down, the girl who had lost her parents and still found it within herself to laugh and smile and be kind.
Nicholas caught up to her, also very at ease with being on the ice, as if he had done it his whole life. She skated alongside him, picking up their pace as Carol also seemed to catch a second breath and went blasting over the surface again… their own little tornado. Catching herself, Noelle almost blanched. Their? Since when did she classify Carol as hers and Nicholas’? And why did she have that thought in the first place?
She glanced sidelong at him, as if he could hear her thoughts, and quickly averted her gaze when he turned. Carol was hers, and hers alone. He had made that clear the very first night Sister Beatrice and the other orphanage representatives had come for the house visit. He had nothing to do with them, and despite her very obviously growing feelings for him, they were not the happy family they looked to be. Her stomach knotted. It also didn’t mean because she had feelings for him that he had the same feelings for her; he could possibly just be a good friend, there to make sure she was adjusting easily with the recent changes, as she herself made sure Carol was adjusting as well.
But when she looked at him again, her heart softened. Noelle’s own thoughts had angered her, but when she saw the way he gazed at Carol—with admiration and pride—she started to doubt herself. Although they were not a family, and he was not Carol’s father—adoptive or biological—that didn’t mean he didn’t care for them. It didn’t mean that he didn’t harbor some type of love, whether it be romantic or platonic towards her. She had no doubt that he loved Carol; it was evident in the gifts he brought her, the experiences he made sure she got, and the effort he put into making her days fun-filled and lasting.
Noelle was so grateful for him, and for everything he had done to make their lives better and more comfortable. And watching Carol twirling and skating in the distance, cheeks flushed and face happy, she placed her hand on his, willing him to see her gratefulness.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” Noelle said, willing every single drop of gratefulness into her voice. “Thank you for being so kind to us, and for making our lives so incredibly wonderful.”
Nicholas watched her, eyes wide as if he was unsure where this was coming from. But he recovered quickly, placing his own hand on hers as they came to a stop facing each other. He nodded. “I could say the same for you and Carol, darlin’, you’ve changed my life in the best way. Especially that little hurricane over there,” he teased, squeezing her hand. Noelle giggled, peeking over his shoulder at the culprit. She squeezed his hand back, their fingers staying entangled until they departed the pond to go home for some hot cocoa. Did he really call her darlin’?
Mounted on Goliath once again, Noelle glanced back at the frozen pond, skating lines marring the once spotless surface. Light no longer danced on the ice, as if they had taken all of the warmth and brightness of it into themselves to take home and cherish forever. The snow on the trees had not budged and still reflected some of the rainbows the sun tried to paint around them.
She was sad in a way, that the pond’s wonderful surface had been ruined by their skating. But when she thought of Carol’s joy, she saw a physical account of childlike joy and freedom. A day spent with those she loved, that would still linger long after they had gone home. It was evidence that there had been life there, memories made and cherished for years to come, all because of nature’s grace.
One more look at the pond, and Noelle was content, settling her gaze back on the people before her. Those she cherished above all others, and followed them home.