Chapter 10
IT MIGHT HAVE been a perfect day.
The kind of day that she never wanted to end.
In fact, Keely could stay at Woodcrest forever. Even if she had to do the dishes.
“These are amazing, Keely.”
She looked up from where Nance stood in the kitchen holding one of Keely’s after-dinner sugar cookies.
“They’re about a thousand calories each, but oh, so worth it. My mom used to make them every time it snowed. She called them snowballs.”
“I call them addictive.” This from River, who had stacked the cookies on a tray, where a few kids came up to the counter for seconds.
Keely hadn’t noticed Wren in the bunch, but maybe she’d missed her. Still. “Has Wren been up and around?”
“No. Her dad made her stay in bed after her fall. Says she’s banged up,” Nance said.
“She hit the tree pretty hard.” Keely finished scrubbing the baking tray and set it on a rack.
“I checked on her earlier,” River said. “She has some tenderness in her chest—I think she might have a bruised rib. Her breathing seemed okay. How are you doing?”
Keely grabbed a towel. “Me? I’m fine.”
“Mm-hmm,” River said.
Keely frowned at her even as she dried the tray.
“I saw you and Dawson playing Battleship. It looked epic. There might have been some dancing.”
“I beat him.” She handed Nance the tray. Then she swung the towel over her shoulder.
“He didn’t look too broken up about it.” River’s voice was low, almost conspiratorial. “He’s very hot with that beard, wearing all that flannel.”
Keely gave River a look, then matched her voice to hers. “Yes. Very. But . . . he didn’t realize that . . .” She glanced at Nance, who had stepped into a closet where they kept the baking sheets and supplies. “He didn’t know who I was.”
“Really? How could he not recognize—?”
“Please. Not the entire world knows—”
“People in Nome were singing ‘Chasing Forever’ for karaoke night. I think the entire world knows,” Nance said.
“I’m usually wearing glitter.”
River pointed at Keely. “True.”
Nance picked up the tray of cookies and walked out into the main room.
Keely sighed and stuck her hands back into the bubbly water. “There was definitely a change.”
River sidled up next to her. “A change? A change from what?” She reached for the next clean tray and grabbed Keely’s towel off her shoulder. Raised an eyebrow.
“A change from when he kissed me.”
River looked around, then held up the pan to hide their conversation. “He kissed you.”
“In the woods.”
“Even better.”
“River. Please. We have such different lives.” Except right here, right now, they didn’t feel so different.
Only because she was living in a Hallmark movie.
Keely stared out past River into the main room.
Dawson sat with Griffin and Landon and a few other men at a long table.
“And, I’m your friend.”
No, he was her hero. Her Alaskan, flannel hero. He and his trusty dog.
But she couldn’t bring them back to her apartment in New York City like a souvenir, right?
“I had no business kissing him.” She looked at River. “It won’t happen again.”
“Well that completely breaks my heart,” River said. “Maybe you should write that song. ‘Northern Light Tears.’”
“That’s a terrible title.”
River started to hum . . . then, “Under the glow of the aurora, I . . . found my heart? But in the cold of Alaska, our worlds were . . . far apart?”
“Your beats are all off.”
“Can you do better?”
“Please.” Keely turned her voice singsongy. “I was a melody, a pop star in the spotlight, you were the snow, silent in the moonlight . . .”
“I’d call him more of a storm. You’ve seen those blue eyes.”
“Fine.” She switched to the melody again. “You were the storm, calling through the night.”
“Not bad. It’s catchy.”
“No. We need something like this.” Keely grabbed a wooden spoon, held it up, and cleared her throat.
And then, magic. The song started softly, almost haunting, and then grew as she gave it strength.
Caught in the blizzard, your laughter was my warmth
Your eyes like the city lights, mine were the north
Snowflakes fell like secrets in the frosty air
Alaska’s winter whispered, but life’s never fair . . .
River backed up to lean on the counter, and a couple of kids moved over to listen. River folded her arms. “That’s not bad.”
“I love improv. I did some open mic songs back in college, when I was just getting started.”
“Got any more?”
Funny. She might just be getting started. “Me, the hustle of New York, with dreams as wide as day. Our worlds collided magically, in the most surprising way.”
“Magically?”
“It’s improv. Loosen up.” She thought for a moment, and her gaze landed on Dawson, who looked up, found her gaze.
It was just a song. A Bliss pop song. But she brought the spoon to her lips.
And sang.
Not quite Bliss—her vocal range wouldn’t allow for that. This was huskier, a sort of blues feel about the song. But she played with the tones, nuanced them.
Felt the music thrum inside her.
In the heart of a blizzard, where the world seemed to pause,
I found you, an unexpected wonder, without a cause.
You, wrapped in the mystery of Alaska’s endless woods,
Me, a wanderer in your snowy neighborhood.
A couple more kids came to the window, and Nance emerged from the pantry, folded her arms, and leaned against the doorframe.
Keely used the spoon like a mic, adding drama to the song.
We talked beneath the pines, as the snowflakes danzzzced around,
In the silence of the falling snow, we found a love profound.
Could this be our forever, could we make this last?
Or is this just a beautiful moment that will soon be past?
A chorus pumped up inside her. She closed her eyes, felt the song vibrate through her.
What if we stayed here in the wild, where winter blows so fierce?
Or what if we walked together, beyond the frozen frontiers?
Under the aurora’s glow, can we dare to dream so far?
Finding our forever, beneath the Alaskan stars.
When she opened her eyes, Dawson was standing at the counter. His eyes pinned on her, a sort of undone expression on his face. She gave him a smile, something sad, her voice falling, sweet, soft . . .
Imagine us together, in a cabin by the lake,
Or walking down a city street when we awake.
Could the magic of this night transcend the woods so deep?
Could the warmth we found in the cold be ours to keep?
Silence. Her heart thumped.
Then the room exploded, the crowd clapping, then shouting. Even Dawson, who’d raised an eyebrow, clapped.
She smiled, bowed.
When she stood up, he stepped back, away from the crowd. Then he turned, walked to the door, grabbed his jacket, and called for Caspian.
The dog bounded over, and they headed out into the darkness.
River came over to her, took the wooden spoon from her hand. “That was worth a Grammy.”
She sighed. “I think I just broke his heart.”
“You definitely broke mine.” River followed her gaze. “You should go after him.”
Keely looked at the kids dispersing. How Dawson had stared at her a long time before turning away. The smells of the kitchen rose around her, the sugar cookies, the bread in the proofers, ready for baking, the lingering scent of onions and garlic from tonight’s venison stew.
“This isn’t my world. No matter how much . . .” She looked at River. “It’s not real.”
“It is to me.”
“I’d have to . . .”
“Give up everything?”
“Maybe, yes. I don’t know.”
“You’ve heard of Notting Hill? Or that new one, Finding You? Regular people fall in love with insanely famous people all the time.”
“Yeah. Usually they’re called stalkers.”
“C’mon, you don’t even want to try?”
She grabbed the spoon back and plunged it into the hot water, washing it.
“It’s not that. It’s . . . I have a big life.
Complicated. And there are a lot of moving parts.
He lives in Alaska, and I’d be a complete jerk to suck him into my world without .
. . well, without him knowing what it’s about. ”
River nodded.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I don’t think you were. You were listening to your heart.”
“The heart is deceitful.” She pulled out the spoon and took the towel from River. “My mother said that.”
“Yes. But God can align your heart to match his will. And his will is to bring you to a place of peace and joy. To sing the song you were meant to sing. You only have to ask.”
She stared at River. Swallowed. Oh no—was this what this was about? God bringing her here so she could fall in love with Alaska? With a man who . . . saw her?
She lowered the spoon. “What if I’m afraid to ask?”
“Then you’ll never really know what it is that will bring you joy.”
“I think I know what makes me happy.”
“You only imagine you know. But God says that no mind has conceived the things that God has prepared for those who love him.”
“He was talking about heaven.”
“Was he? Because God says that our abundant life starts here. In this realm. But only if we trust God, and surrender to him. Look to Christ, and you not only get salvation, but you’ll be set free to discover yourself too. The person you were made to be.”
Keely glanced at the door. Then she handed River the towel and the spoon. “Hold my mic.”
Because why not? It had all started with a crazy prayer four days ago, as the plane went down, a foxhole, desperate prayer that she couldn’t even finish.
But if she were honest, the ending went something like God, if you get me out of this, I’ll pay attention. I’ll listen. And I’ll trust you.
Or something like that.
“Go get ’im, Bliss.” River pumped her fist.
Sheesh, but Keely grinned as she pulled on her parka, grabbed her pom-pom hat and mittens, and headed out into the night.
The sight before her stopped her cold, right there on the steps.
No, not cold—hot, roaring, flaming hot. She stared at the barn. Not quite an inferno, flames licked out of the windows on the sides, and black smoke tunneled out the open doors, and—
Where was Dawson?
On no, no—
She turned and opened the door. “Fire! The barn is on fire!”