Page 41 of Unexpected Gifts

“Santa, huh?” Luke caught her eye. “Is it okay if we tag along?”

“Yeah, sure. Fine with me.” As must as she wished she didn’t feel this way, she desperately wanted him there. She didn’t knowhow to visit Santa. Was she supposed to take a photo? Or buy one?

So much for pushing Luke away.

Luke gestured toward the door. “Off we go.”

10

LUKE

With everyone safely buckled in, Luke headed down Sugarwood Lane, the shared dirt road of the Hayes and Parker families, named affectionately by Walter and his brothers when they were boys. The vehicle’s tires crunched through patches of snow and icy potholes. Overhead, the sun shed light from a blue-peacock-colored sky. Trees on either side of the lane had lost most of their leaves, their bare branches a silvery white. The meadow was blanketed in undisturbed snow, other than the tracks of bunnies, white-tailed deer, and perhaps an elusive moose.

Luke glanced over at Abby, who peered out the window with childlike wonderment, a dreamy smile lifting the corners of her pretty mouth.

“It’s gorgeous this time of year,” Luke said.

Abby played with the fringes of her red scarf, never taking her eyes from the scenery. “Like a winter wonderland. If only you guys could see the brown hills around Los Angeles this time of year. You wouldn’t believe how different it is here than where I’m from.”

“Do you have snow there?” Sophie asked from the back.

Abby shook her head, chuckling. “No. I don’t know that it’s ever snowed in Southern California. It’s often in the low seventies this time of year.”

“Christmas in warm weather?” Sophie asked, sounding appalled. “Weird.”

“It’s not a picture postcard like it is here.” Abby turned to look back at the kids. “You may not realize how beautiful Sugarville Grove is because you’ve always lived here. But I’m seeing it with fresh eyes, and it’s simply spectacular.”

Luke thought about that as he turned left onto Rabbit Run Road. He’d lived here all his life and had not traveled much. When he was young, he may have taken it for granted, but as an adult, he often marveled at the beauty of the place he was lucky enough to call home. The farm and surrounding areas were as much a part of him as the blood that coursed through his veins.

Abby’s appreciation pleased him, perhaps more than it should.

They continued on Rabbit Run Road, which had been cleared by the snowplow, leaving neat mounds of snow along the sides. Patches of ice appeared along the way, reassuring him that driving his California girl into town had been a good idea.

Fields covered in snow stretched out on either side of the road. Red barns and silos stood out against the pale landscape, their roofs piled high with snow. Soon, Little Bear Lake came into view. Snow-dusted evergreens and maples surrounded the partly frozen lake. Their public park, an open grassy field, was covered with snow, but in warmer months, families gathered for picnics or lawn games. Weathered wooden benches, partially covered in snow with frosted metal armrests, lined the lake’s edge. An older couple holding hands, dressed in thick jackets and knit caps pulled low over their ears, sat together on one of the benches. The woman’s head rested against the man’s shoulder.

What would it be like to grow old with someone? To have the privilege of sitting quietly and watching the changing of the seasons? Would he ever know?

A trail that wound around the lake was impossible to see today, but it meandered through a small copse of trees, leading to a bridge that spanned a narrow section of the lake. Ducks and geese were often seen paddling near the lake's edge. Today they were clustered in small groups in an unfrozen patch of water near the center.

“Are you a runner?” Luke asked Abby. There were so many things he didn’t know about her. He wished to know it all, every last habit and interest.

She cocked her head to the right, watching him. “I don’t plan on running, no.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I mean, jogging.”

“Oh, right. Duh. No, I like walking or hiking, but no running.”

Why had she assumed he meant symbolically? A sliver of doubt worried its way into him. Was running away an option for her? Would she disappear as Sarah had?

He let it go, telling himself that just because Sarah had run didn’t mean everyone would. “You can’t see it now because of the snow, but there’s a trail for walkers and joggers. Very popular during warm months.”

Despite the cold, a few hardy birds flitted around. In summer, visitors often spotted herons and beavers near the lake's marshy end, where reeds and cattails grew. This time of year, the brittle brown reeds still held a quiet beauty. To Luke, anyway.

A small wooden dock jutted out into the water, covered in a thin layer of frost. He and his brothers had fished there often as children. These days, they were all too busy to spend an afternoon with their lines in the water as they once had. A small playground with swings and a slide stood off to one side of thepark, where he or his mother often took Lily to play. Today, the chains on the swings hung stiffly, frozen in place, and the slide had a thin sheet of ice at the top.

He shivered. The park in winter gave him a lonesome, abandoned feeling. He preferred it in the summer when it was filled with children’s busy play.

“Can you skate on the lake?” Abby asked.

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