Chapter 2
Chapter Two
T he next morning, Maddie woke to soft, diffused light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. The smell of pine and lavender hung faintly in the air, and from somewhere downstairs came the gentle crackle of a fire and the murmur of soft conversation.
Then it all came back to her: the mountain house, Aunt Schatzi, Ernie, the snowstorm, and the quiet sense of escape she hadn’t realized she needed.
She listened for a couple of seconds and smiled. Aunt Schatzi was telling Ernie what a good boy he was.
Still smiling at the sweet exchange, Maddie pulled herself out of bed, the chill in the room nipping at her skin as her bare feet hit the rag rug covering the cold wooden floor. Shivering, a quick glance out the window confirmed what she’d already suspected. The world outside remained blanketed in a thick layer of snow, the mountains rising in the distance like a scene from a postcard.
The sky was a pale blue, the sun reflecting off the snow in blinding patches. It was beautiful and deeply quiet. The kind of peaceful stillness that came after a storm.
She shed her flannel nightshirt to pull on leggings and a long-sleeve T-shirt, then wrapped herself in a thick cardigan and tucked her feet into slipper socks. Feeling warmer, Maddie made her way downstairs. The welcome scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the smoky warmth of the fire and something a little spicy. Cinnamon, maybe? Was there anything better to wake up to on a winter’s morning?
When she entered the living room, she found Aunt Schatzi sitting in her chair by the hearth, Ernie sprawled lazily on the rug at her feet, looking more like a bathmat than a house cat.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Schatzi said, looking up from her knitting. “I didn’t think you’d sleep so long. Good for you. Must’ve been that mountain air.”
“Maybe.” Maddie smiled sheepishly, running a hand through her sleep-mussed hair. “I guess I needed it.”
“There’s coffee and cinnamon buns in the kitchen. Nothing special—they’re out of a can, but they’re plenty good.”
“I thought I smelled cinnamon. Sounds great.” Maddie glanced outside at the winter wonderland. “The snow stopped, huh?”
“For now,” Schatzi replied, nodding toward the window. “But we’re snowed in. Good thing I had Sam come by yesterday to stack more firewood.”
“Sam?” Maddie asked, furrowing her brow. The name wasn’t familiar to her.
Schatzi glanced at her with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Sam Bishop. My neighbor down the road. He stops by to help out sometimes, since I can’t exactly chop wood myself these days.”
“Sam Bishop,” Maddie repeated. The name stirred something vague in her memory, but she couldn’t place it. Schatzi must have mentioned him before. “I don’t think I remember him.”
“That’s because you two never met. He moved here a couple of years ago, after you and Jack stopped coming up as often.” Schatzi’s voice softened when she mentioned Jack, but she didn’t linger on it. “Nice man. Bit quiet, but nothing wrong with that. Lives by himself with his dog, Fargo. He’s not far. Just down the way.”
As Schatzi finished speaking, a loud, enthusiastic bark came from outside, followed by the muffled sound of a man’s voice. Maddie turned to look out the window, her breath catching slightly as the owner of the voice approached the porch.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a plaid wool jacket, a green scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. His dark hair, streaked with gray, peeked out from under a knit beanie cap. Beside him, a chocolate Lab in a red collar bounded through the snow, tail wagging in wide, happy arcs.
“That’s him now,” Schatzi said with a grin. “He always checks in after a storm.”
Before Maddie could say anything, there was a knock at the door, and Schatzi called out, “Come on in, Sam!”
The door creaked open, letting in a burst of cold air as Sam stepped inside, stomping the snow from his boots. Fargo followed close behind, his fur dusted with white, his eyes bright and curious as he sniffed the unfamiliar air.
“Morning, Schatzi,” Sam greeted in a low, pleasant voice. His smile was warm as he closed the door behind him, his gloved hands dusting snow off his jacket. He pulled the gloves off and tucked them in his pocket. “Figured I’d come by and make sure you were all set.”
“We’re just fine, thanks to you,” Schatzi replied. “Sam, this is my niece, Maddie. She’s staying with me for the holidays.”
Maddie smiled and stepped forward, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Sam’s handshake was firm but not overwhelming, his hand warm despite the cold. “Likewise,” he said, his brown eyes meeting hers with a kindness that put her at ease. “Hope the drive up here wasn’t too bad yesterday.”
“It was...interesting,” Maddie admitted, the memory of the winding mountain road and the snowstorm still fresh in her mind.
Fargo trotted over to her, nosing at her hand as though demanding attention. Maddie knelt to pet him, running her fingers through his thick, soft fur. The dog wagged his tail furiously, leaning into her touch.
“He likes you,” Sam said with a smile, watching the scene unfold. “And Fargo’s a pretty good judge of character. He knew your aunt cheated at cards the moment he met her.”
Maddie laughed. Schatzi had been known to pull a few tricks on occasion. “He’s a beautiful dog. How long have you had him?”
“About three years now,” Sam replied, his voice softening slightly as he spoke about his companion. “Got him not long after I moved here. He’s been good company.”
“I bet.” Maddie straightened, the mention of companionship stirring something inside her. Since Jack’s death, loneliness had been a constant shadow. She wasn’t about to share that with a stranger, but there was something comforting about Sam’s quiet presence, his connection to the mountains, and the gentle, caring way he interacted with Schatzi and his obvious affection for his dog. It made her wonder, briefly, what her life would have been like if Jack were still here, or if she’d had the kind of support her sister Becca always seemed to offer...when she had time.
Maddie felt a stab of guilt at that thought. Becca had her own life, her own responsibilities that came with her role as the wife of a successful surgeon. Her schedule was undoubtedly packed tighter than a Christmas stocking. Their conversations were usually rushed, Becca speaking to her from the car or about to head into a charity function, promising to call back later, but often forgetting to do so. It wasn’t that Becca didn’t care—Maddie knew her sister loved her. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough to fill the silence.
And with that thought, Maddie was very happy her aunt had someone like Sam as a neighbor.
“Sam does more than just check in,” Schatzi said, giving Maddie a sideways glance. “He’s been helping me out a lot since my arthritis got worse. Chopping wood, shoveling snow, fixing the leaky roof—you name it.”
“Well, I’m happy to help,” Sam said, his tone modest. “It’s no trouble. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got much else going on.”
Schatzi raised an eyebrow at Maddie, but Maddie wasn’t sure what her aunt was implying. That Sam was lonely too? That he was around if she wanted someone to talk to?
Ignoring Schatzi’s look, Maddie smiled, grateful for Sam’s kindness but not wanting to impose. “It’s nice to know you’re nearby. I appreciate you helping my aunt.”
“It’s no problem. If either of you need anything,” Sam said, turning toward her, “don’t hesitate to ask. It’s just me and Fargo down the road, and we don’t mind lending a hand. Your aunt knows my number, but I’d probably hear you if you hollered loud enough.”
“Thanks.” Maddie nodded, though she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel comfortable calling for help. Vocally or otherwise. She had spent so long handling things on her own that the idea of relying on someone—even someone as kind as Sam—felt foreign.
“Guess I’d better get back before the snow starts up again,” Sam said, glancing out the window. “Got a few things to take care of before it gets worse.”
“Thanks again, Sam,” Schatzi said, standing up from her chair with a little difficulty. “Stay warm out there.”
“Will do,” he said, pulling his gloves back on. He gave a small nod to Maddie before heading to the door, Fargo bounding happily after him. The cold rushed in again as they left, and Maddie stood by the window, watching them disappear down the snow-covered path.
“He’s a good man,” Schatzi said, her voice quiet as she sat back down. “Has his own burdens. Who doesn’t? Lost his wife a few years back.”
Maddie’s chest tightened. She hadn’t known that. It explained the quiet sadness she had seen in Sam’s eyes. The same sadness she saw every time she looked in the mirror. Grief was a terrible common ground to share, but it had a way of binding people together, even if they didn’t realize it at first.
“I can tell,” Maddie replied softly, her eyes still on the path where Sam and Fargo had walked. “About the burdens, I mean.” The world outside was so quiet, the only sounds the faint whistle of wind and the crackle of the fire behind her.
She looked over at her aunt.
Schatzi didn’t say anything else, but her expression was filled with understanding. She picked up her knitting again, her needles clicking softly in the cozy silence of the room.
Maddie turned back to the fire, the warmth of the flames brushing against her face. She hadn’t expected the mountains to feel this welcoming, this familiar. But something about the quiet house, the snow-covered trees outside, and the brief connection she’d made with Sam and his dog made her feel like this Christmas wouldn’t be as lonely as she’d feared.
Of course, it would be hard to be lonely with Schatzi and Ernie for company, but this house still held some memories that were bound to stir up a lot of emotions.
Deciding to focus on the present, Maddie peeked into Aunt Schatzi’s cup. “You want more coffee?”
“I’d love some. Thanks.” Schatzi worked the yarn without even looking at it, her years of experience guiding her fingers.
Maddie picked up the cup and went into the kitchen to refill it, then got a cup of coffee and a cinnamon bun for herself. She brought all of it back out to the living room. With a sigh, she sank into the chair across from Schatzi, the soft cushions and warm fire just what she needed. Ernie hopped onto her lap, his fur soft under her hand, his purr making her smile.
As Maddie sipped her coffee and managed a one-handed bite of her breakfast pastry, she realized something she hadn’t expected.
Being here wasn’t just her filling the space in Aunt Schatzi’s house. She was filling the space in her heart. Making new memories. That had to be a step forward, didn’t it?