Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
T he snow had let up by the end of the week, leaving the mountains draped in a thick blanket of white. The air, crisp and biting, carried the unmistakable scent of woodsmoke, drifting from chimneys hidden among the trees.
Maddie stood by the front window, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the snow-capped peaks. The world outside seemed frozen in time, the only sound the occasional creak of the house settling against the cold.
Behind her, Aunt Schatzi was moving about the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans breaking the silence. The warmth from the fireplace made the air inside the house feel heavy, but comforting, like being wrapped in a well-worn quilt. Maddie leaned her forehead against the cold window, her breath fogging up the glass as she thought about the evening ahead.
“Maddie, dear,” Schatzi called from the kitchen, her voice a little more hurried than usual. Despite her shoulder bothering her, she’d insisted on doing her share of the chores. “Are you sure you’re up for this? It’s not too late to stay in.”
“I’m up for it.” Maddie said, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in her voice. She turned to face her aunt, her fingers still gripping the window frame. Schatzi was fussing with an oversized casserole dish, her one good arm struggling to adjust the lid as she got it out of the dishwasher. Maddie had tried to help but Schatzi wasn’t having it, saying she was already doing too much.
“Let me.” Maddie crossed the room and gently pried it from her hands, setting it on the counter with a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” Schatzi turned and got a quart of cider out of the fridge. “You’re sure about tonight?”
The idea of going to a gathering—a Christmas gathering, no less—still made her chest tighten. But it had been Schatzi’s idea, and Maddie didn’t want to disappoint her by saying no. “Yes. Besides, I think I need to get out of the house.”
Schatzi raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes twinkling. “A little socializing will do you good, that’s for sure. It’s mostly just the ladies from around the area and a few of their husbands. They’re all good people. You’ll like them.”
Maddie forced a smile, nodding as she glanced out the window again. The thought of meeting new people, especially around Christmas, made her stomach knot. But maybe it was time. She knew she needed to stop retreating into her shell, but actually doing something about it wasn’t so easy to accomplish. The quiet of the mountains had helped, but it was only masking the emptiness inside her, not filling it.
Schatzi grabbed the cider and started for her coat by the door. “Don’t worry about a thing. They’ll be too busy gossiping and sharing holiday recipes to pay much attention to us.”
Maddie, slipping into her coat and wrapping a scarf around her neck, doubted that very much. But she could handle small-talk about baking and town news. It would be easy to smile and nod, to listen without saying too much. At least, she hoped it would. “You want me to carry that jug?”
“No, I can manage it. I’m old, I’m not dead.”
“Just trying to help.” Maddie thought about taking it anyway, but Schatzi was stubborn and wouldn’t appreciate being treated like she couldn’t do things for herself, so Maddie let her be.
The walk to the bonfire wasn’t far. Schatzi had mentioned that her neighbors, Tom and Alice Parker, hosted a Christmas bonfire on their land down by the frozen creek every year.
As Maddie and Schatzi got closer, the path through the woods was lit by lanterns hanging from low branches, their flickering light casting shadows that danced on the snow-covered ground. The cold air stung Maddie’s cheeks, but there was a kind of beauty in the stillness of the evening and the faint crunch of snow beneath their boots.
For a passing moment, Maddie almost felt like she was going to church.
When they reached the clearing, the smell of burning wood filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of mulled cider that someone had brewed over a camp stove in a big stock pot. Paper cups of it were being passed around. More lanterns, dangling from branches, lit the area.
The bonfire itself roared in the center of the clearing, flames licking toward the night sky, casting a warm glow over the group that had gathered. There were a dozen or so women gathered in a big group, bundled in heavy coats and scarves, their breath fogging in the cold air as they laughed and talked.
The men had formed several smaller groups on the other side of the bonfire.
“Schatzi!” a voice called from near the fire, and an older woman with rosy cheeks and a bright smile waved them over. “You made it! We were beginning to wonder if the snow had kept you in.”
“Nothing keeps me in if I can help it,” Schatzi replied, her tone as feisty as ever. She leaned in toward Maddie and whispered, “That’s Alice Parker. She and her husband own the big cabin up the ridge.”
Maddie smiled as Alice greeted them warmly and took the extra cider from Schatzi with a grateful nod. “And you must be Maddie,” Alice said, her eyes crinkling with kindness. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope,” Maddie replied, forcing a light laugh.
Alice smiled warmly. “Only good things. We’re so glad you’re here.”
“Thanks.” The warmth of Alice’s welcome eased some of Maddie’s tension, and as they moved closer to the fire, the others gathered around to introduce themselves. There was Beth, a retired schoolteacher who seemed to know everything about everyone in town; Junie, a younger woman with two small children who were already asleep back at the house with her husband; and Lyla, a hairdresser in town whose makeup looked like something off a magazine cover.
The conversations flowed easily, touching on everything from the weather to Christmas traditions to how much shopping they all had left to do, and for the first time in a long while, Maddie felt herself relax.
But as the evening wore on, Maddie found herself standing slightly apart from the group, watching the flames dance and crackle. The warmth of the fire seeped into her bones, and the smell of burning wood brought back a flood of memories. Mostly Christmases spent here with Jack. They’d never come to this gathering, but a few of the faces still looked familiar.
She was sure they all knew Jack had died. Schatzi would have told them. Thankfully, no one had said anything about him. She wasn’t sure she could bear to talk about him without breaking down.
Her throat tightened as she thought of his easy smile, the way his arm would always drape around her shoulders, pulling her close. Not even the good memories were grief-free these days.
“Hey, there.”
Maddie turned to see Sam Bishop standing beside her, a paper cup of steaming cider in his hand. Fargo sat at his feet, his eyes fixed on the fire, content to be close to his owner.
“Sam,” Maddie said, surprised but pleased to see him. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
He smiled, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air. “Alice always ropes me into these things. She’s impossible to say no to.” He took a sip of cider before adding, “Besides, it’s tradition. You want some cider?”
“No, I had some. Thanks.” Maddie turned back to the fire. The orange and red flames swayed against the dark backdrop of the woods, casting a glow on the faces of those gathered around. There was something mesmerizing about it, something soothing in the way the fire consumed the wood, crackling and popping as it burned.
“How’re you holding up?” Sam asked, his voice gentle, as though he sensed the swirl of emotions Maddie was trying to keep at bay.
Maddie hesitated, then shrugged. “I’m here,” she said, her tone soft. “That’s something.”
Sam nodded, his expression full of understanding. “That’s a lot, actually.”
Maddie glanced at him, catching the way the firelight reflected in his eyes. Sam’s presence was comforting in a way he probably didn’t even realize—he didn’t push, didn’t pry, but he was there, solid and steady, like the mountains themselves.
“You’re not much for these kinds of things either, huh?” Maddie asked, her voice tinged with humor.
Sam smiled faintly, shaking his head. “Not really. But it’s good to be around people sometimes. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”
With a little snort, Maddie looked around at the men and women laughing and talking, the warmth of the fire contrasting sharply with the coldness of the night. The dancing shadows turned the snow blue.
She knew he was right. As hard as it was to be out here, surrounded by reminders of the life she used to have, it was better than sitting alone in the dark. And there was something about the mountain community—its quiet strength, its resilience, the open-hearted welcome—that was starting to feel like home.
“You ever think about leaving?” she asked suddenly, the question surprising even herself. She wasn’t quite sure where it had come from.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Leaving?”
“The mountains,” Maddie clarified. “All this...quiet.”
Sam shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “No. I came here to find the quiet. Sometimes it’s the only thing that makes sense. Probably what keeps me sane.”
Maddie nodded, his words resonating with her. The mountains did make sense. Even in their stillness, even in the snow and the biting cold, there was a kind of peace here—a peace she’d been searching for. She just hadn’t known until now it could be found here.
“I think I’m starting to understand that,” Maddie said quietly, more to herself than to Sam.
They stood in silence for a while longer, the warmth of the fire flickering across their faces, the sound of the others fading into the background. For the first time in months, maybe even years, Maddie felt something come alive inside her—a sense of possibility, of life continuing, even after everything had changed.
Fargo nudged her hand with his nose, breaking her reverie. She smiled and pulled off one glove, kneeling to scratch behind his ears, feeling the softness of his fur against her cold fingers. “Hiya, buddy. You certainly like people, don’t you?”
“Well, he certainly likes you,” Sam said with a chuckle.
“I like him too,” Maddie replied, standing back up. The warmth of the fire felt good, but it was the warmth of the company that truly thawed the ice in her heart.
As the evening wound down, Schatzi caught Maddie’s eye from across the fire and gave her a knowing smile. Maddie returned the smile, feeling something well up in her that she hadn’t expected: hope.
Hope that maybe this Christmas, despite everything, she could begin to heal.
Hope that the mountains, with their quiet strength, might just be the place where she found herself again.
And wouldn’t that be a miracle?