Page 15 of Snowy Secrets

My timing is perfect, because not ten minutes later, the sound of a horn tells me my daughter is home. She hustles through the open door, her hair framing her face like a halo, her smile like the sun. "Mama!"

I open my arms and pull her into the tightest of hugs. God, let me have some more years of this pure love before she becomes a teenager who won't let me hug her. "Hi, baby. I got your breakfast. Would you like some milk to go with it?"

She nods eagerly. Once she's finished breakfast, I give her a bath and finish getting ready. A few hours later, she's in the backseat of my trusty old Honda, and I'm driving.

We leave Spokane behind, venturing onto the open highway that stretches eastward. The landscape transforms before our eyes, rolling hills giving way to vast, golden plains stretching endlessly toward the horizon. The air grows crisper, carrying the heady, sweet scents of sagebrush and wildflowers. Rusty, my Honda, cruises through charming small towns, where we catch glimpses of pronghorn antelope grazing in the distance. As the sun dips lower in the sky, piercing the clouds with shades of orange and pink, Whispering Pines is in sight.

A little while later, the tires of my trusty Rusty crunch over the gravel as we pull into the parking lot of The Buckhorn Grill. Ginny hops out, her energy as boundless as ever. Seriously, where does she get it from? "Mama, look!" She points at a faded sign advertising “World Famous Huckleberry Burgers”.

"Those do sound good, honey." I take her hand, relishing how the wintry air lands crisply on my skin. She adjusts her hand so she's holding only a finger of mine with her whole fist, and we walk over to the eatery and cross the threshold.

Inside, the scents of sizzling meat and wood smoke surround us, with the smoke curling into lazy swirls over sparse tablespopulated by locals. We squeeze into a booth upholstered in worn leather. Ginny chatters away, her words a whirlwind of excitement about the horses she saw on the drive. A television above the bar blares news of an incoming storm, but I wave it off. Storms are a dime a dozen here. How bad could it be?

We order the huckleberry burgers along with fries piled high on a tin plate, and tall glasses of ice-cold huckleberry lemonade. Ten points to this place for what has to be one of the most delicious burgers I've had in a while. The flavors explode in my mouth, perfectly savory, slightly spicy from the smoke, layered with subtle hints of umami from the tangy huckleberry sauce. Ginny giggles as purple juice dribbles down her chin.

After lunch, we continue our journey. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the fields. Finally, we reach the Carter mansion. My mom is standing by the front gate. She gives a smile worth a million diamonds upon spotting Ginny. I can't help it—I smile at the loving way she looks at the little urchin.

"Grandma! Grandma!" Ginny bursts through the door as soon as I park, her arms outstretched.

My mom picks her up and inhales the sweet scent of her hair. "Ginny, my little sunshine! How was the drive?"

"It was awesome! We saw horses and ate huckleberry burgers!" Ginny recounts the day's adventures with her usual enthusiasm.

"That sounds wonderful." Mom turns to me, her eyes twinkling.

As the two of them hug it out, Dad appears in the background.

"Dad," I say, letting him bundle me into a bear hug. I rest my head against his sturdy shoulder. The years have tamed me enough for me to realize where my safest spaces are. This tops the list.

"She's wonderful." He nods at Ginny. "You're doing a great job raising her."

I ignore the lump at the back of my throat. My parents were around for me during my pregnancy in a way I'd never dared hope for. It was my decision to leave Whispering Pines afterward. They wanted me to stay. I just couldn't.

"If you…" he starts but doesn't finish. He knows who the father is but also respects my decision to keep him from being involved.

"I'll get going," I say, my voice muffled against the warm, wooly material of his coat.

"You can stay."

I sigh and extricate myself from his arms. "I know I can," I say pointedly. "But I want a bit of time to regroup. Get some chapters done."

"Your book," he comments, nodding slowly. "How's that coming along?"

"I'm a little stuck," I admit. "Made a badass heroine and can't seem to get her to like anyone else."

"Hmph." He snorts. "Sounds familiar. You'll figure it out. You always do."

I smile and kiss his cheek before saying goodbye to Ginny and my mom.

My shoulders feel achingly light as I head toward the cabin I've rented. The snow starts falling as I drive, the flakes swirling in the headlights. I pull up to a rustic log cabin bathed in warm, inviting light. It's even more charming than the pictures promised.

A man steps onto the porch, his silhouette outlined against the glow. As I approach, my heart skips a beat. It's Marcus. He’s one of my dad's oldest friends but I don’t know him well. The last I saw him was at the party where I met…oh, well, no pointrecalling that. Also, I thought I was renting the cabin to have to myself. I wasn’t expecting him to be in residence.

I sigh as I watch him walking to the edge of the porch. He catches sight of me and gives me a smile. He looks just as handsome as I remember, his laughter lines etched deeper around his eyes, his smile as warm as sunshine.

"Bella?" he calls, his voice tinged with surprise.

"Marcus!" I smile, hoping I look more composed than I feel. A part of me wants to just get back in the car and drive away.

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