One Snowy Night

by Patience Griffin

  Hope walked toward Donovan with a pad of Post-it notes and a pen in her hand, holding them out.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Ella and I have this system,” Hope said. “We leave a Post-it on the microwave telling the other person where we are.”

  Yes, he’d seen their notes to each other stuck there.

  Hope didn’t look him in the eye. “It’s a simple courtesy, letting everyone know where you are. And when you might get home.” She gave him a pointed look. “It’s what people do, so others—especially dogs and children—don’t worry about them.”

  His chest warmed unexpectedly. Hope worries over me. It was dumb that it pleased him so. And frightened him. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.” She turned away. “It’s the snow, you know?”

  He did know. A heavy snowfall would naturally frighten her more than the average Alaskan. When others saw snow as a nuisance, she would see mangled bodies and death.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back a little so she could lean against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m truly sorry.”

  She relaxed and suddenly he didn’t feel the need to apologize for the kiss at the Hungry Bear. He just needed to make sure he didn’t hurt Hope.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

  She slowly moved away from him. “Now that you’re home safe and sound, I’ll head to bed.”

  “Good night, Hope. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She said nothing more as she slipped on her boots and her coat, grabbed a thermos, and went out the door.

  Two seconds later, he realized he still had Boomer. And he’d made a promise to his daughter. He put on his coat and his hat and he and Boomer went to Wandering Moose Cabin. He knocked lightly, not wanting to wake up Ella if she was already asleep. Especially if it meant he could steal a kiss from Hope out here on the porch.

  But Ella opened the door. “Oh! You brought me Boomer!” The cabin smelled of hot cocoa.

  “He likes sleeping with you.” Donovan looked inside. “You know, we’ll need to get you a bigger bed soon. It won’t be long before that dog won’t fit in a twin, even by himself.”

  Hope stepped into Donovan’s line of sight. “It’d be cheaper to get a dog bed.”

  “Mom, if he wants to buy me a bigger bed, you should let him.”

  Donovan smiled. “I’ll let you two work it out.” He wished they’d invite him in for cocoa. If only they were still living at the lodge, he wouldn’t have been excluded. But as it was, this was their space and he was intruding. “Well, good night.”

  He made his way back to the lodge alone. The house was empty and made him feel empty, too. As he turned out the lights downstairs, he couldn’t help but relive the kiss at the Hungry Bear. She kissed me back. I didn’t imagine it. When he’d come back to Alaska, he never dreamed he would find Hope, let alone kiss her. Or that kissing her that way would feel so right that he’d want it to go on forever. But it couldn’t. His Sweet Home expiration date was approaching. Approaching too fast. He’d be taking advantage of Hope if he kissed her again. He couldn’t hurt her more than he already had. He was leaving after the Christmas Festival. But he was already feeling homesick for Sweet Home, missing Hope and Ella, even though he hadn’t left yet.

  He woke earlier than usual and sat sipping his coffee as he tried to concentrate on drawing up a to-do list for the lodge workers today. He didn’t get far before Hope came into the kitchen.

  “Morning,” he said. “Coffee’s ready.” He went back to his list, not knowing how he was supposed to act around her today. He couldn’t let himself fall for Hope all over again. But right now, his whole body wanted to give her a kiss that would last them the whole day. “Where’s Ella?”

  “Sleeping in. She and Lacy were texting late last night. I finally got tired of telling her to get off her phone and went to sleep myself.”

  “If you two were back here in the lodge, you both could have your own space,” he argued logically.

  “My dad always said that love grows better in small houses.”

  “The offer is always on the table,” he said.

  But she gave him a look and he knew exactly what it meant: There’s no such thing as always, Donovan Stone. You’re selling this place, so stop offering anything! Yes, it was one hell of a look.

  Chastened, he went back to his list.

  Thirty minutes later, Ella rolled into the kitchen, looking tired but not unhappy about the day ahead.

  “Do you know where we’re going to look for a tree?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Where my grandfather—your great-grandfather—always took me and Uncle Beau. Do you know the rules for cutting down trees in a national forest?”

  “It depends on the forest,” Hope piped up.

  “True. But in a nutshell, we can’t use a chain saw. We have to use hand tools and only cut down one of the skinnier, less healthy trees, leaving the best trees for the forest. Also, we can’t down a tree within two hundred feet of the road or a body of water.”

  “Have you been Googling the rules?” Ella asked, laughing.

  “Maybe.” Donovan killed the apps on his phone. “Can you be ready in thirty minutes? I want to get an early start. Short days and all,” he said.

  “Spoken like a true Alaskan,” Hope observed.

  “Old habits die hard.” He turned to Ella. “What about Lacy? Can she be ready to go soon?”

  “Lace isn’t going with us. She texted this morning to say she might be getting sick. I’m pretty sure she’s just allergic to the cold.”

  Donovan looked at Hope and Ella, feeling a surge of happy anticipation. Their first outing together, as a family.

  Chapter 19

  WITH HOPE AND Ella with him in the cab of Mr. Brewster’s truck, Donovan pulled onto the snow-covered road to access his grandfather’s secret tree-hunting spot. He’d been worried there for a few minutes that he wouldn’t be able to find it because the terrain had changed so much. He glanced down at Hope’s ankle and decided they wouldn’t be able to trek far once he parked. “Hold on, ladies. We’re going off road.” He made a sharp right from gravel road onto uneven ground.

  Ella squealed delightedly as they bounced their way across the field toward a stand of smaller trees.

  “Does this bring back good memories?” he hollered to Hope.

  “Yeah, I guess. But I must’ve enjoyed whiplash then.” But she was smiling and it pleased him so.

  “We’re almost there.” He pulled up and parked, giving them room to down a tree that wouldn’t crush Mr. Brewster’s truck in the process.

  They all got out of the vehicle. Ella held up her phone and took a picture. “Let me send this to Lacy first.” But two seconds later, she was complaining. “I don’t have service.”

  “Good.” Donovan pulled a saw from the back and held it out to his daughter. “You won’t have time to mess with your phone anyway. You have a tree to fell.”

  She shot him a couple of daggers but took the saw. He grabbed the ax from the bed of the pickup for himself.

  Hope leaned her back against the truck and looked up.

  “Which one do you think?” Donovan said.

  “Either number one or number three?” Hope said.

  “They’re both the right size, I think.” He turned to Ella, who was pocketing her phone. “You decide. One or three.”

  “Let’s get number three. It’s the skinniest,” she said.

  “And will be easier for you to cut down?” he teased.

  “I had a feeling I’d be doing all the work.” Like a soldier who didn’t mind doing her duty, she marched toward the tree.

  Donovan joined Hope at the truck. “Should I really let her do it by herself?”

  “She knows what she’s doing. My sugg
estion is to let her get started, then give her a hand if she wants it.”

  Ella circled the tree and at the same time examined the terrain.

  Donovan wasn’t as calm as Hope and couldn’t stand by without saying something. “You do know that the tree is going to fall in the direction of the side that you saw.”

  “Duh,” she answered back. She chose her spot—away from them and the truck—and started sawing.

  He could only keep quiet for one minute more before heading toward her. “How about I swing the ax a couple of times to get started? I haven’t had my workout today.”

  Ella stopped sawing. “Yeah. If you want to.”

  Donovan tramped through the snow, not feeling a bit of the cold, because he was going to cut down his first Christmas tree with his daughter. He turned back to look at Hope, who had her phone out and held up, apparently taking pictures. He had the urge to run back, take her in his arms, and spin her around like he did when they were young. But he kept walking toward Ella. Man, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

  Together, he and Ella cut down the nine-foot spruce and got it to the truck under Hope’s direction. The three of them started to tie down the tree but Ella bailed after getting her end secured.

  “I’ll warm up the truck.” She was inside the cab before they could say anything.

  Donovan went to Hope’s side to help her. But when he got near, he noticed how wild and lovely she looked with the forest as her backdrop. He wanted nothing more than to snuggle his hands inside her coat and ravage her mouth . . .

  Instead he wrapped her in a bear hug. “This was fun,” he said into her hair. “Thanks.” He let go and quickly went to his side of the vehicle and opened the door, not wanting to gauge her reaction. A couple of moments later, she got in the truck, too.

  “Mom, are you all right?” Ella asked.

  “I’m fine. Let’s get home.”

  Donovan smiled and put the car in gear.

  Back at the lodge the three of them got the tree inside, once again with Hope directing.

  “Ella, keep your end up. You don’t want to scrape the floors.”

  He and Ella set the tree on the tarp he’d laid down before they’d left. He went back outside to wind up the rope and grab his keys from the ignition.

  “Hey, Don,” Jesse said. Shaun was with him, his tool belt loaded. “Did you find the tree you were looking for?”

  “Yeah. Just got it into the house. How did things go here?” He’d left enough food to feed an army, so he knew that was okay.

  “We just finished up with the Highland Coos Cabin. Anything else you want done for today?”

  “No. That should do it.” Even though he was paying double for the holiday weekend, Donovan didn’t care if they knocked off early. He knew the brothers were going to check in on their mom. Donovan was just so grateful for everybody’s efforts. “See you tomorrow at the hardware store?” He couldn’t help it, he just didn’t like Jesse working at the lodge with Hope around. Especially if Donovan wasn’t here to monitor.

  “Yeah. Have a good evening.” Jesse and Shaun waved as they walked toward their cars.

  Donovan headed back into the lodge. Christmas music was playing quietly as Ella—still red-cheeked from the outdoors—dug through one of the ornament boxes he’d brought in from the garage. “Where’s your mom?”

  “Making cocoa. It’s tradition.” Ella grinned and he realized not for the first time how much he’d missed out on.

  Hope came in with a tray. “Get it while it’s hot.”

  “Can you hold the tree while I put it in the stand?” Donovan asked.

  “Not yet. We have to make a cocoa toast first,” Ella said.

  “Another tradition?”

  “Yes. Mom does the toast,” Ella said, informing him of protocol.

  They all raised their mugs and Hope, the eloquent toastmaster, declaimed ceremoniously, “To a day of goodwill, cold weather, and warm hearts.”

  “Amen,” Donovan said as they clinked their mugs together. An image of the Three Musketeers came into his head, and his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. “That was lovely, Hope.”

  Ella whispered loudly. “Don’t get too excited. She gives the same toast every year.”

  Donovan beamed at Hope. “Well, I think she nailed it.”

  Hope held the tree while Donovan guided it into the stand. When he was done, he lay on the floor for a moment longer, listening as Ella sang along to “O Holy Night.” Then he joined Hope and Ella in wrapping the lights while they sang “White Christmas.” It was sweet, heartwarming, and mostly on key. He and Ella started on the ornaments next, while Hope decorated the living room with the Christmas items Rick had picked out in Anchorage. When she was done, she, too, chose ornaments and they found the perfect home for them on the tree. He was having a ball, his own Norman Rockwell Christmas. He never imagined he’d have this kind of Christmas again.

  “Are you ready for ice fishing in the morning?” he asked Ella. “And by that I mean, are you ready to leave your cell phone at home so you won’t be disappointed when there isn’t any service?”

  Ella gave him an oh, Dad look, which pleased him to no end. She turned to Hope. “Are you going with us?”

  “If it’s okay, honey, I’m going to pass. I have a lot to do around here,” Hope said. Donovan expected she needed to rest her ankle after today’s trek through the woods.

  Ella shrugged. “I guess it’s just us, then.”

  But when Donovan woke the next morning, a winter storm was raging outside. Ella came blowing in the front door, pulled off her snowy boots, and joined him in the kitchen.

  “Mom says ice fishing is off for today.” Ella sounded peeved and disappointed, as if it were her mother’s fault.

  “Too dangerous,” Donovan concurred.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Ella plopped down in her chair. He had already set out the cereal and milk for her.

  He shouldn’t have been glad for her disappointment but he was . . . because it matched his own. He would make certain to fit in their fishing venture before he left. He pulled his laptop over and opened the lid. “How about you and I work on getting an AA meeting in Sweet Home?”

  She frowned but dutifully pulled up a chair. “Okay. But I’ve been thinking Sweet Home is too small to have its own group.”

  “Not true. According to this, it only takes two or three people to start one.” He showed her the screen. “Plus a meeting place, a coffeepot, and some AA literature.”

  “I guess we could get the word out to the other small towns that we’re starting one up.”

  “That’s a good idea,” he said. “Let’s get our application in.”

  “But what about the meeting place?”

  “We better make some calls, don’t you think?”

  For the next several hours they worked alongside each other to bring an AA meeting to Sweet Home. Afterward he made them cocoa and they drank it at the table, with everything feeling comfortable between them.

  “I need to check on things at the hardware store,” he said. “I was wondering if you’d like to do a project for the lodge.” The box of supplies had arrived yesterday, ahead of the storm, thank goodness. “Could you paint new signs for the cabins—Wandering Moose, Highland Coos, and Black Bear Hideout? I’ve seen your drawings, Ella. I think they’re really good. Also, I’ll need new signs for the B-and-B rooms upstairs—Eagle’s Nest, Lone Wolf Den, and Caribou Cove.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her eyes were bright and eager. “You want me to make signs, like a professional?”

  “You’re on the payroll, aren’t you? The lodge would be lucky to have your artwork on the doors,” Donovan said. Plus, it thrilled him that Ella would put her mark on the lodge. But then reality set in . . . the lodge would be sold soon and belong to someone besides him.


  “I think I have some acrylics in one of my boxes in the cabin.” Ella started for the doorway.

  “Stay put and eat your breakfast. I’ll be right back.” He went to his office and returned with the box. “If you don’t have everything you need in here, let me know.” He set the box in front of her.

  She looked in as if Christmas were inside. Then she excitedly pulled out paintbrushes, palettes, and tubes. Finally, her gaze came up to meet his. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” he said. “You have talent. Just like your Aunt Izzie.” Before Donovan could feel a pang of sadness, Ella jumped up and hugged him, taking him completely off guard. But it made him so happy!

  Immediately she pulled away. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”

  “I know you won’t.” There was nothing she could do that would make him love her less.

  Realization hit. He did love her. His daughter, Ella. He cleared his throat, because it was a little tight. “Seriously”—he sounded choked up even to his own ears—“let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

  She didn’t seem to notice as she kept going through the art supplies. “I can’t wait to tell Lacy.”

  For the first time, he felt like a real dad. And he’d gotten a real dad hug, though he doubted Ella would ever call him that or see him as her father. But it didn’t matter. He would treasure this moment, hold on to it for the rest of his life.

  Donovan’s cell phone rang. “It’s my dad,” he said to Ella. “I’ll be right back.” She would have to get to know her grandfather in due time, too.

  He walked into the hall to answer it. “Hey, Dad, what’s up?”

  “Hi, son.” Dad sounded down, more down than Donovan had heard him in a long time.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, it’s just . . . Rose moved out,” Dad said.

  “What happened?” Donovan asked, immediately calculating how quickly he could get to his dad. An impractical task. It wasn’t just the winter storm either. There was so much left to be done here.

  “Her ex-husband wants to get back together,” Dad explained. “I understand, you know. They have five kids, a history, but he’d kicked her out of the house and left her with nothing. I don’t know how she can even consider going back to him.”