by Irene Brand
By noon, the snow had almost stopped, but it was still cloudy and the wind intensified throughout the afternoon. Edna stopped by the office.
“I’d better tell you about our procedure in case the electricity goes off, which it probably will when this heavy snow starts falling off the trees onto the power lines. Gas generators provide alternate power for the two schools, but we only use them to provide heat to the dormitories. Which means, if the electricity goes off, we won’t be having school.”
“Then what?” David asked.
“We declare a school holiday. We keep a lot of puzzles and table games, and try to entertain the smaller children inside, or let them make snowmen and have snowball fights. The older students play outdoors—skiing around the meadow, snowshoeing in the valley, sleigh riding. Occasionally the lake freezes solid, and they go ice-skating. A few times we’ve been without power for a week or more, but usually it’s no more than a couple of days.”
The electricity went off in midafternoon, and the administration building shook slightly from the concerted rejoicing of the thirty students who shouted in unison. When an hour passed and the power hadn’t been restored, Summer said, “I might as well go to the cabin for we can’t do anything here without electricity.”
“That’s fine,” David agreed, “I’ll collect the kids and bring them home. Probably the path is filled with snow again.” He hesitated. “I don’t like for you to be stuck with all the responsibility of keeping a fire going. Under the circumstances, I don’t see any reason why I can’t stay at the cabin until the weather clears up.”
Her mouth quirked with humor. “I can’t believe Edna will object.”
An undefinable emotion gleamed in his brown eyes. “I wasn’t thinking about Edna. Is it all right with you?”
“Yes,” she said briefly, but she felt her composure was under attack. Since she’d started thinking she might be in love with David, she didn’t know how she would manage with being cooped up in the cabin with him for several days.
“If we don’t have electric power, we won’t have any water at the cabin, so I’ll ask one of the men to bring a tank of water on the tractor. Unless you want to do like the pioneers and melt snow over the fire.”
Summer’s gentle laugh rippled through the dark office. “To think that I used to resent living with my family, and I longed to get out on my own. I can’t believe I’m now responsible for making decisions for more than thirty people!”
“Summer, do you realize how much you’ve changed since we came here two months ago? You’ve adjusted to a situation that’s completely opposed to your nature.” Putting his arms around her waist, he squeezed her affectionately. “You often compare yourself unworthily to your sisters, but you shouldn’t. You’re a pretty special person, and I don’t think either one of them would have handled this situation any better than you have.”
“Thanks. I’ve made lots of mistakes, but I’ve tried to do my best. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”
David never caressed her unless they were alone, and knowing they wouldn’t have any privacy the next few days, she cuddled against him and lifted her face for a kiss—for the first time taking the initiative in their increasing infatuation. Ecstacy raced through her body from the sweet tenderness of his kiss, and he sighed contentedly when he released her.
“I’ll feel much more secure with you in the cabin,” she said softly.
For the past few years, Summer had anticipated the time when she wouldn’t have to depend on anyone. In the past she’d been forced to rely on her parents, but since the deaths of Bert and Spring, she’d developed her own strength of character. She’d made a lot of difficult decisions, and she was convinced that she did have the fortitude to cope with snowstorms, rebellious teenagers and mischievous children. She could do it alone, but it was much more satisfactory to have David beside her.
As a child, Summer had spent a lot of time puttering around in the kitchen trying to help their longtime housekeeper, so she had some knowledge of cooking skills, but she lacked practice. Since she was home early, she got out the cookbook she’d bought before she left New York, looking for some kind of special treat for the evening meal. The cabin was dark, but there was a kerosene lamp on the mantel, and she brought it to the kitchen area.
She decided on a menu of baked steak, mashed potatoes, buttered corn and apple salad for dinner, and tried her hand at making rolls. While the food cooked, she put a tablecloth on the table, took some candles and holders from one of the cabinets and arranged them with the silverware. Surveying her efforts, she said aloud, “It doesn’t look like a Weaver table, but it’ll have to do.”
Without television, she had to think of a way to entertain Nicole and Timmy for the evening. She remembered seeing a few table games somewhere in the cabin, and she found them behind boxes stored in the hall closet. These would probably keep the kids occupied until bedtime.
Nicole and Timmy were quarreling as they came down the path because Timmy had rubbed a handful of snow in Nicole’s face.
“I’m going to get even with you,” Nicole shouted as Timmy ran up on the porch, taunting her. She wadded a big batch of snow in both hands and threw it just as he opened the door and dodged inside. The snow came through the open doorway and splattered on the floor.
“Stop it!” Summer called. Timmy was tramping around the room dripping snow as he went. “Timmy, take off your boots and help clean up that snow.”
“She pitched it—not me,” he said.
“Matters not. You made your sister mad, or she wouldn’t have thrown snow at you. Hurry! I want both of you to get out of your damp clothes and wipe the floor.”
Order was restored by the time David came, and it was almost dark then. He carried a duffel roll over his shoulder, which he dropped beside the fireplace.
“Hey! Look, kids, we’re going to dine at the Ritz tonight—candles ’n’ everything,” he said as Summer lit the candles.
Timmy came running. “Supper smells good,” he said, climbing into his chair.
When Nicole came, her cheeks still glowing from the snow, David held the chair for Summer before he sat down. Without any other light, it seemed as if the four of them were wrapped in a world of their own. Looking around at her companions, Summer was breathless to realize that there was no other place she’d rather be right now. She reached her hands to Timmy and David, and noting her intent, he joined hands with Nicole, who then clasped Timmy’s hand.
“Why don’t you say the blessing tonight, David? We do have so much to be thankful for.”
He nodded solemnly and squeezed her hand until it hurt.
“God, thank You for bringing us together as a—” he paused “—family. We’re thankful for this snowstorm and the opportunity to shut out the rest of the world and focus on each other. We’re thankful for the food, and for Summer who’s prepared it. Amen.”
There was still enough hot water in the tank to wash the dishes, and Summer assigned everyone a part in cleaning up the kitchen table and cabinets. Cold was seeping into the cabin, and she thought the children should keep busy.
After the evening meal, Summer spread blankets near the open fire and filled the wire popper hanging on the fireplace with grains of corn. Although she limited the soda consumption of the children, earlier she’d set a two-liter bottle of cola on the porch. When the corn was ready, she brought in the cola.
“We did this last winter with Mommy and Daddy,” Nicole said. She moved close to Summer and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Auntie.”
Summer smothered a sob. It was the first time either of the children had shown any appreciation of what she was doing for them. David’s gaze was gentle and understanding, and she knew he was conscious of the satisfaction she’d experienced at Nicole’s words.
“I thought we might work on these jigsaw puzzles,” she said, bringing out two boxes. The pieces were quite large, and she thought even Timmy would enjoy them.
“Let’s have two teams and se
e who can finish their puzzles first,” Summer suggested. “How about girls against the boys?”
“We’ll beat them, won’t we, Uncle David?” Timmy said.
“Oh, I don’t know. Girls are pretty tricky, and I’m a little rusty on jigsaw puzzle skills.”
David and Timmy moved to one side of the blanket and Summer poured out the puzzle pieces in two piles. “Turn the pieces right side up, but no starting until I give the signal.”
Summer and Nicole finished first, which caused an argument between Nicole and Timmy.
“They had the easiest puzzle,” Timmy said, pouting.
“Then we’ll switch puzzles and try again,” Summer said. But when the ladies’ team finished first again, David said to Timmy, “They just outclass us, partner. We’re still best about a lot of things.”
“Let’s play bingo,” Summer said. “We can take turns calling the numbers.”
“Timmy doesn’t know all his numbers,” Nicole objected.
“Then one of us will help him when it’s his turn,” David said. “What are we going to have for prizes? I feel lucky this time.”
“I have a bag of chocolate kisses, but they’re not to be eaten this late at night. We don’t need any hyper kids, or adults, in the cabin this close to bedtime.”
“You mean I can’t have a kiss if I win?” David said, mimicking Timmy’s pouting voice, but his eyes brimmed with mirth.
Summer knew he wasn’t talking about the candy kisses, and she answered pertly, “No kisses tonight.”
The hours passed quickly, and Summer was only occasionally aware of the strong wind whipping around the cabin. They stopped playing often while David added logs to the fire.
When Summer mentioned bedtime, perhaps hoping to postpone the inevitable, Timmy said, “Sometimes Daddy used to tell us Bible stories before we went to bed.”
David and Summer exchanged glances, and she shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I can come up with a Bible story I learned in Sunday school,” David said.
Timmy scooted across the floor until he leaned against David.
“There was this little Hebrew baby named Moses,” David began, “and a mean old king was trying to kill him. But his mother made up her mind that her boy was going to be taken care of, so she built a little boat and put the baby in it. She hid the boat in the river, and when the king’s daughter came down to the water, she saw the baby. The princess knew her father wanted to kill all the little Hebrew babies, but she didn’t have a child of her own, so she sneaked Moses into the palace and pretended he was hers. But she didn’t know how to take care of a baby, so the king’s daughter looked for somebody else to watch over Moses until he was older. God made it possible for the princess to choose Moses’s real mother to take care of him. He grew up to be a good man, and God had great work for Moses to do. So Moses was better off than lots of babies. He had two mothers to love him.”
When David finished the story, Timmy’s face split into a wide grin. “Just like me and Nicole. We had Mommy, and now we have Auntie. God’s looking out for us, too.”
He rushed over to Summer, put his arms around her and kissed her. Summer held him tightly, her eyes closed to hold back the threatening tears. Overwhelmed by the warm glow that flowed through her, she softly paddled Timmy’s rump.
“But I’ll not be a very good mother if I don’t see that you get into bed for a good night’s sleep. Come on, I’ll help you get ready for bed. It’s going to be dark in the cabin tonight, but Uncle David and I’ll both be here to watch over you.”
“God will be, too,” Nicole said.
“And that’s the most important,” Summer agreed.
Chapter Thirteen
When she returned to the living room after settling the children, David was carrying wood in from the porch and stacking it near the fireplace. He spread his sleeping bag out on the floor.
“You can sleep on the sofa, if you like,” Summer said.
“No, I’ll roll up in front of the fire. I have a feeling the temperature will drop rapidly tonight, and if I’m lying here, I’ll know when I need to add fuel. Leave the hall door and the bedroom doors open so the heat can circulate. I checked the thermometer on the porch, and it’s registering at zero.”
“Brrr!” Summer said and shivered. “I hope we can stay warm. I piled a lot of blankets on the kids’ beds until Nicole complained she couldn’t move. I’ve laid another blanket on the sofa if you need it. I’m going to bed, too.”
Summer had extinguished the candles, except for the one she held in her hand. David stood in the shadows, but a flicker of firelight caught the tenderness and passion in his eyes. He held out his hand.
“No need to be in a hurry. It’s a long time until morning.”
Her pulses surged with excitement, and she said slowly, “No, David, I don’t think so.” But even as she spoke, she put the candle on the table and moved toward him, drawn by an instinctive response that she couldn’t have suppressed if she’d wanted to.
With one swift motion, she was in his arms, and he whispered into her hair, “It’s all right, Summer. It’s all right.”
And being in David’s arms did make everything all right. He turned the large lounge chair to face the fire, and he drew her down beside him.
“You’re not much bigger than Timmy,” he said with a chuckle, “so both of us can sit in this chair.” He draped a blanket around them and their mutual warmth kept the cold at bay as they cuddled up in each other’s arms.
“This is the first time I’ve snuggled like this with a woman in my arms. I kinda like it.”
Summer nodded her head, and her soft, silky hair tickled his chin. “’Specially on a cold night.”
“How about you?”
She lifted her head and stared at him. “You mean, have I cuddled in another man’s arms? Of course not. I haven’t dated anyone since I left high school.”
“Have you ever wondered why we’re so comfortable together?”
“I don’t want to think about it. I’d just as soon think we’re comfortable this way because it’s such a cold night. I’m not ready to explore any other possibility.”
“Why?”
“It disturbs me to realize how much my life has changed in the past few months. It’s only been four months since Spring and Bert died, and sometimes I have to force myself to remember that I’ve ever had any life except this one.”
“You told me when we came to The Crossroads for the first time that you were terrified, as if the mountains were closing around you and you’d never get out.”
“That’s the way it is, too, but it’s not as terrible as I thought it might be. Spring had her Christian calling to keep her at The Crossroads, but that’s not why I’m staying.”
“Do you want to explore your reasons?”
“Not tonight. That’s something I have to face in broad daylight—not in a fairy-tale setting like this one.”
David decided not to press her further. He suppressed his emotions and desires, being content that she trusted him enough to go to sleep in his arms. When the fire had burned to embers, David released Summer to lay more logs on the coals.
She straightened, yawning, looking vulnerable and desirable in the faint light. “What time is it?” she asked.
“One o’clock.”
“I didn’t know I’d gone to sleep. Good night, David.”
Keeping his distance, he said, “Good night. Call if you need me.”
Her bedroom was frigid, and as Summer tried to go to sleep again, she was aware of the swirling wind outside the window; but more than that, she felt comforted because David was nearby. He’d become such an important part of her life that she wondered where the future was leading them. If they stayed on at The Crossroads more than a year, could their relationship continue as it was now? If at the end of a year, they decided they could no longer manage The Crossroads, and they each went their separate ways again, how much would she care?
Also distressed by her reaction to T
immy’s affection, Summer knew how important the children had become to her. Her sleep was troubled, and she was aware several times when David laid logs on the fire, and even then the cabin seemed cold. Daylight crept into the cabin, and Summer put on a heavy robe and walked into the kitchen quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone else.
Also awake, David said softly, “Nice and clear outside.” He enjoyed the sight of Summer’s tousled hair and her sleep-swollen eyes. She seldom had a hair out of place, and even to a man as fastidious in his dress as he was, he thought she would seem more human if she wasn’t always as neat as a pin. More than once, his hands had itched to run his fingers through her carefully groomed hair.
Summer moved close to the fireplace and glanced toward the kitchen window that was plastered with snow.
David threw back the top of the sleeping bag, and she saw he’d slept in his clothes. “I’ll bring in some more wood now that you’re awake,” he offered, and while he carried out the ashes and brought in more wood, she went to the bathroom to dress. The wooden floor was cold on her bare feet, and she put on her heaviest sweat outfit and fleece-lined boots. The bedroom area was frigid, but she peeked in and saw that Nicole and Timmy were still asleep, so she knew they were comfortable.
“Wow!” David said when he came in with an armload of logs. “It’s a degree above zero, so it’ll be a cold day.”
“Since we aren’t in a hurry, how about eggs and biscuits for breakfast? I bought a bag of biscuit mix a few weeks ago.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Before they’d finished breakfast, they heard loud voices approaching the cabin, and soon heavy steps on the porch. David grinned. “The natives are already astir.”
Skipper opened the door, a huge smile spread across his face. He had on a red jacket with a cap pulled over his ears. “C’mon, guys. We’re going sleigh riding.”