by Nancy Naigle
Living up here. That had such a nice ring to it.
“Good night, Liz. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He paused, and her heart fluttered with hope.
“The crew will be here at sunup, around seven fifteen.” He slapped his hand against his leg, and Elvis bounded to the door. “Hopefully, you won’t even be able to hear us from way back here. Especially with the thick blanket of snow.”
“I don’t mind. Really. I love the sound of progress.” She held the door as they left. “Goodbye. Thanks again. For everything.”
Liz closed the door behind her, and leaned against it replaying the day in her mind. She had so much fun with him, and she must’ve been getting used to the beard, because he was very good-looking tonight. Too bad they were working together. She had a zero-tolerance rule about dating people she worked with, and in this case her whole dream could go down the tubes if something went wrong. He was handsome, nice, and funny even, but it didn’t matter. Her dream, this place, was too much to risk.
She went to her bedroom to change into her pajamas. If only there were electricity, it would’ve been the perfect time to test out that new on-demand water heater.
As if all she’d had to do all along had been to ask for what she wanted, the lights came on.
“Nice.” She went into the bathroom and twisted the handle on the faucet over the tub. She held her hand under the water. It was already hot. Good thing too, because she remembered how cold these old cast-iron tubs were.
She went to get her pajamas, and when she came back into the bathroom steam drifted above the tub. She swished the water around, then stepped in gingerly.
The hot water felt good. She might be sore tomorrow after that snow bowling, but it was so worth it. She stretched and ducked under the hot water up to her shoulders. She was pretty sure she’d used muscles she hadn’t used in a while. She smiled knowing her name was at the top of the leaderboard, even though it had to have been beginner’s luck.
She got out of the tub and grabbed one of her new Egyptian cotton towels. The hot water had left her skin bright pink. She’d just wrapped the towel around herself when her phone rang. Assuming it could only be Matt at this hour, she grabbed it without looking at the caller ID. “Hey.”
“Hi, Liz.”
Not Matt. “Dan?” She wrapped her towel tighter around her. She hadn’t expected to hear from him until at least after the holidays.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Great. We’ve gotten a good start on things already.”
“I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” He sounded annoyed.
“Sorry. I have lousy reception up here.” Why did I apologize? “I didn’t have my phone with me anyways, though.”
“You always have your phone.”
“Not today.” And she liked the feeling of being unplugged for a while.
“So things are okay?”
“Yeah. Great.”
“I was worried. I heard y’all were getting a lot of snow up that way.”
“We are. I’m fine. The power went out, but I have a nice cozy fire and things are good. Better than good, it’s beautiful here. It looks like a Christmas card out my window.”
“We had nothing but rain.”
He hated rainy days. Come to think of it, he complained about a lot of things. “We had enough snow to build a snowman. I’m going to have to stock up on snowman accessories. I had to make do with pinecones instead of coal, and my own scarf, which I could have used today.” A giggle slipped out. It had been fun.
“That’s not like you. Doesn’t sound like you to settle.”
Settle? It was a snowman, for goodness’ sake. “It turned out cute, but I’m definitely going to create a couple snowman kits for the future. Guests would have a blast with that.”
“Guests? You’re still seriously planning to invest your money in that place?”
“More than ever.”
“I thought once you had time to think about it you’d come to your senses. I mean, if you want a B and B, open one here in the city, where you can charge a premium for it and have a steady stream of customers.”
“That can be your dream. I feel very good about my decisions. So much so that I’m taking a six-month leave of absence to make sure it goes without a hitch.”
“You’re going to take a leave of absence? You love that job.”
She realized she hadn’t told him about that. “I love this more. I’m excited about it.”
“Why would you risk mucking up a great career? This isn’t like you at all, Liz.”
“This has always been my dream. Who knows when an opportunity like this would arise again? It’s like new energy has been breathed into my life.”
“It just sounds like a lot of work to me. Next thing you know you’ll be canning vegetables and chopping wood.”
“Would that be so bad?” She rather liked the idea. “Actually they deliver the wood already chopped and stack it too. You know, Dan, this is why I didn’t list my house with you. You still think I’ll fail, or I’ll come back. I don’t think you’d really try to sell my place.”
“Might’ve been the biggest favor I ever did for you.”
“Stop it.”
“I sold that house over on Silverleaf Street today.”
Now, the real reason he’d called. “That’s great.” It was always about him. Every time he closed a deal he called her, and they’d go to his favorite bistro to celebrate. “Congratulations. That’s great. Wait a minute, this busts your myth that no one buys a house in the rain.”
“It also busts our pattern of celebrating when I sell one. I miss having my buddy around,” he said.
Her heart squeezed. They’d had a lot of fun together, but that’s all it ever was and all either had wanted it to be. “I want more, Dan. From my life, and myself. Antler Creek is where I want to be.”
“Forever? Come on, Liz, once you get the project done you’ll be ready to move on to something else. That perfect little Hallmark-movie town is going to get old once that project is complete.”
It was true that as soon as she finished one project she was ready to move on to the next, but this was different. It wasn’t just a project; it was a lifestyle change. A way of life that really made her feel whole again. “Not this time. This is the real deal for me, Dan.”
“Thanks for letting me share my news.”
“Anytime.” And she meant that. She treasured his friendship. No, he wasn’t perfect. He was self-centered, bossy, and sometimes lazy, but they’d been friends for a long time. She’d miss him too.
Everything in this town seemed as perfect as a Hallmark movie. Even the people in the town were amazingly quirky and good. No, she couldn’t believe this would wear off.
She stoked the fire the way she’d seen Matt do, and it flamed up. Placing the logs that he’d left on the hearth a couple of inches apart as he’d taught her, she stood back and let the fire do its own magic. Then she put on her coat and stepped outside to grab a couple more logs to lay by the hearth for the next round. Tiny snowflakes fell again.
What was it Gram had always said? Big flakes will go away, but tiny flakes are here to stay.
That never made sense. It seemed the big flakes would be the ones that would add up to accumulation, not the other way around.
It wasn’t even Christmas and there was a lot of winter ahead of her. She carried the logs in and set them on the hearth, then added firewood to her supplies list.
She turned off the lights in the living room and kitchen, then went to her bedroom.
She knelt beside the bed, folding her hands on top of the quilt the way she’d done when she was a child staying in the main house. She bowed her head.
“Heavenly Father, it’s been a long time since I got down on my knees like this. Please forgive me for letting myself get ahead of your plans. You know every decision I need to make, and your will should be my way. I’m feeling tugged by nostalgia, but warned by friends, and I want to do the rig
ht thing. I need your guidance, and I believe you’ve placed new people in my life to help me on this path. Fill me with peace in knowing that even if I take a wrong turn, your purpose will prevail. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
She stood, tired and content from the long day. Peace washed over her.
Something caught her eye in the corner of the room. She walked over and picked up an angel made of silk and feathers with tiny beaded adornments and a golden halo. Once white, the fabric had yellowed. Her long lashes were lowered as if in prayer, her hands pressed together. This had to be from her grandmother’s collection too.
How could I have missed this earlier? She picked up the angel and held it to her heart.
Eyes closed, she smiled and lifted her chin. “You sure work fast.” Her heart felt full, and contentment spread through her body.
If this isn’t a sign that I’m on the right path, I don’t know what is.
Chapter Twenty-four
After a great night’s sleep, Liz was ready to tackle the cabin again, only she really didn’t have the clothes for this kind of weather. Or that dirty work. One of the many things that had been on Liz’s to-do list had been to become more active. Working on that cabin had been a good workout. She could feel the soreness in her arm muscles today. At least there wasn’t a budget or timeline for activity, and she didn’t have to rely on anyone but herself to succeed.
She googled the closest clothing store that might sell some suitable work attire. There was a farm store in the next town. She put the address in her GPS. It didn’t take but about twenty minutes to get there.
She grabbed a shopping cart and started browsing. They had a great selection of flannel-lined jeans, thick socks, and hiking boots to keep her warm, and the price was sure right.
An aisle of bird feeders caught her eye. She turned and added one to her cart, along with an outdoor thermometer to hang outside her window. It would be nice to know just how cold or warm it was outside. She tossed a couple of dog bones in her cart for Elvis. Maybe someday she’d get a dog of her own. She imagined a little Yorkie for a moment, then replaced that idea with a friendly, outgoing Labrador retriever. Maybe a chocolate one. A Lab would be a much better choice. She could even make him part of the hiking excursions.
She pushed the cart to the checkout, liking the idea of a job that didn’t require her to be on the road half the month.
A woman with beautiful red hair stopped her cart right next to Liz. “Hi. You’re Liz, right?”
“Yes.” Liz looked around. The stranger had to be talking to her. “I am. Yes.”
“You bought the old inn over in Antler Creek, right? I heard you were related to the original owners.”
“I was. Did you know them?”
“I didn’t, but my husband grew up in Antler Creek. He’s over there getting horse feed for his folks. He said he recognized you from church. It’s all he and his parents have talked about. If you need any help let me know. My name is Ginger. I live in Antler Creek. Right in the middle of town.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“My kids are in school until three, so I could help during the day if you need me.”
“Oh, well I’ve got a contractor working on the house,” Liz said.
“I didn’t mean for a job, I meant just to help. Ya know, run an errand for you. Talk? Whatever. I’m crafty and pretty good at putting things together. I’ve got time.”
“Thank you. That’s so nice.”
Ginger shifted from foot to foot. “You know what, I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy just walking up and offering that. My husband is always saying I don’t know a stranger. Sorry.”
“No. Not at all.” Well, maybe a little. It definitely caught me off guard, but it’s sweet. “It’s nice. Neighborly. I appreciate it, actually.”
“What am I thinking? I know!” The woman rolled her eyes, but then grinned. “The kids and I are baking Christmas cookies this afternoon. Why don’t you come over and help? A couple of the other moms are bringing their kids too. It’ll give you a chance to meet some neighbors.”
Liz’s first inclination was to decline, but really there was nothing holding her to the house today. “You know what. I’d love to come.”
Ginger squealed as she jotted down her address, then gave Liz turn-by-turn directions.
“What can I bring?”
“Just yourself. We’ll have so much fun.”
“I’m really looking forward to it.” Liz felt more at home here already than she did in Charlotte the whole time she’d lived there. And it wasn’t just the house and the surrounding nature anymore. It was the people.
She swung by the market on her way home and headed for the baking aisle to pick up a few extra cookie decorations for the kids. You could never have too many decorations for cookies. Plus, those little silver dragées had always been her favorites.
* * *
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Liz drove down to Ginger’s house. It was a well-maintained house with beautiful holly bushes at each edge of the wide welcoming porch, and a cheerful pop of bright red on the front door. She gathered her bag of cookie decorations and walked to the door.
The wreath was a hoop of shiny Christmas ornaments in silver, gold, and green with a fluffy shimmering white bow. She pressed the doorbell, which promptly responded with the instrumental of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Ginger opened the door, revealing three children peeking out from around her hips.
“Come on in!” She swept the children back to clear the way and led Liz into the kitchen. Four other women were already there, with bowls of dough and cookie sheets in front of them. The kids must’ve ranged from two to twelve. They were moving around so much she couldn’t even do a head count. And this is before the sugar, she thought, as she held her bag of additional sugary decorations.
For two hours, moms took cookie sheets in and out of the oven in eight-to-ten-minute intervals, and the kids decorated in an assembly line like little elves at the North Pole on steroids. Colorful decorated cookies were piling up all around them.
Liz had never seen so many fresh baked cookies in one place in her life.
“It’s almost time to start delivering cookies!” Ginger announced. The children bounced with excitement, but they seemed to have the drill down pat. Each grabbed a paper plate. They lined up single-file, then marched around the table taking one cookie each lap until they had six on their plate. Then, one of the moms wrapped each plate with plastic wrap. The final step was to put a sticker with a picture of Santa on top.
Ginger brought in two laundry baskets lined with towels. The children placed the wrapped plates in the baskets one at a time.
“Hello,” a man’s voice came from the front of the house.
Liz had expected to meet Ginger’s husband, but instead it was Matt who walked into the kitchen. He was everywhere.
“Oh?” He did a visible double take. “Liz? Hey. I didn’t know you knew—”
“She didn’t,” Ginger said. “I saw her at the store this morning and told her she had to come.”
Liz waved to him from across the room. “Hi, again.”
“Well, let’s get this show on the road, how about it?” Matt clapped his hands. “Who’s ready?”
The kids cheered so loud it tickled Liz’s ears.
“Let’s go then,” Matt said. The kids swarmed him, and he looked like he loved every minute of it.
He stacked the laundry baskets one on top of the other and headed outside with a parade of little bodies following behind him.
Liz took out her camera and snapped a picture. Absolutely precious.
He piled everyone into the back of his pickup, including the moms, but Ginger rode up front with all the addresses, and Liz climbed in the seat behind Matt.
Matt honked the horn, which apparently was the signal that they were getting ready to take off, because the kids hit the deck.
“Merchants or homes first?” Matt asked Ginger.
“Let’s do the merchants fir
st. That’ll give people more time to get home before we get there.”
“Here we go.” Matt pulled the truck out of Ginger’s driveway and headed for Main Street.
At each stop the moms spotted the kids as they tumbled out of the truck to go in and wish the merchant a Merry Christmas, hand over a plate of cookies, and then sing one quick round of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” before racing back to the truck in a fit of giggles.
Matt stood at the truck bed lifting the kids one by one back into the truck and securing the tailgate.
At the end of the evening they’d covered a pretty good bit of the town. Ginger and her team of little ones and friends had definitely spread good cheer here tonight.
When all was done, Liz helped Ginger clean up her kitchen. It took some elbow grease to get up all the dried sprinkles and icing, but together they made fun work of it.
“Thank you for inviting me over,” Liz said. “I’ve had such a great night. Count me in on this tradition next year too.”
“Thanks for not thinking I’m some kind of crazy nut. I really enjoyed spending time with you too. Everyone really likes you. We’re glad you’re going to be around.”
The kind words poured over Liz in a way she hadn’t expected. “Thank you.” Her own words came out quiet. “I’m going to head out, but if I can ever help out you let me know.”
“Ditto.” Ginger walked over and gave Liz a big hug. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” She turned and picked up a little red tin that was sitting on the kitchen counter. “This is my own special recipe. Just for you.”
Of course it is. I love this place. “Thank you.”
It was late when Liz got back home. The snow was slick and shiny under the bright moon and stars tonight. She stepped carefully, trying to keep her footing.
The fire had fizzled out while she was gone, but it was still comfortable in the cabin.
It was still early on the West Coast. She called her parents. “Hi, Mom.”
“Liz, everything okay?”
“Yes. I just helped a group of kids bake cookies and deliver them all over Antler Creek. It was amazing.”
“Awww.” Mom sighed on the other end of the phone. “You really are just like your grandmother. That would’ve made me crazy. All those kids running around.”