One Snowy Night

by Patience Griffin

  The ladies opened their car doors and got in.

  “Boomer,” Hope scolded. “Get back up front with your sister.”

  He did as he was told, especially with Ella’s coaxing, “Come on, good boy. Come on.”

  Ella got Boomer situated and herself buckled in. “Are you ready back there?”

  “Wake me when we get there.” Hope laid her head on his shoulder.

  “It’ll have to be a short nap,” he told Hope. “We’re only a few miles away.”

  Hope sighed. “I’m exhausted from the wedding reception last night.”

  They all were spent—in a good way—from their crazy, wonderful New Year’s Eve soirée.

  “Best party ever!” Hope reached over and took his hand.

  “It was,” piped up the peanut gallery in the front.

  Donovan kissed Hope’s hair. “We couldn’t have asked for better.” He caressed Hope’s shoulder, so grateful to have her near. “The town was in rare form, and many of the visitors announced they were coming back every year for Sweet Home’s New Year’s Eve party.”

  “A new tradition?” Hope asked.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Piney had been right about having their reception on New Year’s Eve. Their perceptions of the past had changed.

  Five minutes later Ella pulled into the cemetery. “Dad, are you sure you want to get out of the car?”

  “I’ll be fine.” He might not be . . . but he had gotten marginally better on the crutches, especially on flat ground.

  Ella and Boomer got out and raced each other across the snow.

  Hope slid out and hurried to the other side to help him.

  “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” he said.

  She pulled out the crutches and held them with her uncasted arm. “I think we’re perfect,” she said, smiling.

  Ella ran back toward them with Boomer on her heels. “Hurry up, slowpokes. We have to get back in time. Mom, you’re the one who said you were eager to put together Izzie’s Memory Tree quilt today.”

  “I know.”

  They’d reached Beau’s grave.

  “Take all the time you need,” Hope said, kissing him on the cheek.

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out the new car he’d picked up at the Hungry Bear. He tore open the package. Then, careful not to knock himself over, he leaned down and set it on the top of Beau’s tombstone. “I bought you a new car. A Ferrari. Thought you might like it.” He looked over to see his wife, child, and dog at Izzie’s grave and realized he wasn’t alone anymore in his pain. “Listen, little brother,” he said to Beau, “I just wanted to stop by. It’s a new year and all.” A better year. “I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted . . . and needed. You were right. You let me know that first day that I had to forgive Hope. I love her so much, you know? And Ella, too. I’m such a lucky man.” A breeze whipped up the snow in reply. “I miss you, Beau.”

  “Dad?” Ella yelled as she ran to the car. “Are you ready to go?” She looked down at the dog, who was running beside her. “Boomer’s cold.”

  “I doubt that,” Donovan hollered back. Berners were born for this weather. Donovan was, too. “I’m coming.”

  Hope came up beside him and they kissed for a long moment, something they’d been doing a lot since he’d come to his senses.

  “Break it up,” Ella hollered. “You’re the ones who said how important today was. You said the Sisterhood of the Quilt always used to come over on New Year’s Day. A big sew-in is what you said. The Chicas are probably already there!”

  Donovan reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. “We better go.” His grandmother would be so pleased that the New Year’s Day tradition was continuing. “Back to real life.”

  “And what a wonderful life it is!” Hope said, beaming up at him.

  Donovan couldn’t help himself and kissed her again until his kid started yelling. His kid! His wife! He still couldn’t believe it. “I owe you everything, Hope.”

  With her hand gently touching his arm, she walked beside him while he hobbled, both of them looking forward.

  Acknowledgments

  A published book does not come about by one person alone but is created by a team of people. First and foremost, I want to thank Tracy Bernstein for the amazing edits and lasting friendship. Thank you, Claire Zion, for making the back-cover copy sing and choosing the happy couple for the front cover. Thanks to Michelle Kasper and Amy Schneider and all the people at Berkley who brought One Snowy Night to life. Thank you to the quilt shops in Alaska who were so kind to speak with me, and to Kris Hansell for your invaluable input. As always, thanks to Kevan Lyon, my faithful agent. And last but not least, to Kathleen Baldwin for being a most wonderful friend in life and in writing.

  Turn the page for a preview of

  Once

  Upon a

  Cabin

  Coming from Jove in November 2021

  VICTORIA ST. JAMES gripped the chair in the lawyer’s office as she and her sister McKenna glanced at each other nervously.

  Terrence, their great-uncle’s lawyer, opened the door and wheeled in a big-screen TV.

  “Please tell us what’s going on,” Victoria implored. “Is Uncle Monty okay?”

  “Montgomery is well.” Terrence plugged in the television.

  “Then why all the secrecy?” McKenna asked. “Why were we summoned?”

  The sisters feared the worst. Uncle Monty was their last living relative. Having him meant more than the large inheritance they were to receive when he passed away.

  “All will be revealed on the recording,” Terrence said calmly. He stood back and hit play.

  Uncle Monty appeared on the screen. “Hello, girls.”

  They were hardly girls. Victoria was twenty-eight and McKenna was twenty-nine; they were only eleven months apart.

  “I’ve made plans for the both of you,” Uncle Monty continued.

  Victoria’s worry turned to excitement. The last time Uncle Monty made plans, she and McKenna were whisked off to Monaco for a month.

  “I’ve sublet your condo. Make peace with it,” Uncle Monty said.

  “Wait a minute.” Victoria was confused. This wasn’t the uncle they knew. “Pause the video.”

  Terrence clicked the remote.

  “Is our uncle ill?” McKenna asked.

  “He doesn’t seem like himself,” Victoria added.

  “He’s fine and of sound mind,” the lawyer said. He turned the video back on.

  But Uncle Monty looked a little pale. “I’ve decided it’s time you two stood on your own two feet.”

  “I bet it was Peggy who decided,” McKenna said under her breath. Peggy was Uncle Monty’s new girlfriend. At least she was a fiftysomething hussy instead of the thirtysomething hussies he usually dated. Peggy had been shocked when she found out that the St. James sisters didn’t work. And why should we? Victoria thought. Uncle Monty had the means and allowed them to enjoy life without bounds.

  On the screen Uncle Monty was wearing a stern expression she’d never seen before. “You both need to change. This is your notice: I’ve put your trust funds on hold.”

  “You’ve what?” McKenna complained to the screen. “I have a climbing trip at the Grand Canyon all planned.”

  “Go home and pack,” Uncle Monty said. “You’ll need clothing for four seasons but especially for cold weather. No Dallas winter for you girls this year. You’re headed for Alaska.”

  “Well, that’s not so bad,” McKenna said, smiling. “There’s plenty of outdoor activities there.”

  Victoria frowned at her sister. “Sure, Alaska is great for you. But what am I supposed to do?”

  Uncle Monty continued, looking increasingly grim. “I really hate to do this to you girls, but I’m going to split you up. One in the city, one in the wilderne
ss.”

  “Sounds good to me,” McKenna said cheerfully.

  This time Victoria glared at her. “I don’t think Anchorage, Fairbanks, or Juneau is the size of Dallas. They probably don’t have a single Galleria among them.”

  “And here’s the hardest part,” Uncle Monty said. “I’ve tied all this to your trust funds, credit cards, and inheritance. If you complete your respective stays, the money will be yours. Terrence has your assignments.”

  The lawyer passed a folder to each of them. Victoria flipped hers open but couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “One year on a homestead in the middle of nowhere?”

  “He can’t put me in a bank in Anchorage and expect me to survive,” McKenna said at the same time.

  Monty was talking again. “You’ve both heard me speak about my time as a young man living in Alaska near the small town of Sweet Home. Well, I’ve spoken with Piney at the Hungry Bear Grocery-Diner and she’s found some gentlemen to help you adjust to Alaska.”

  But Victoria wasn’t really listening at this point. “Why is he doing this to us?” she asked Terrence. “The Spring Gala is next week and I have responsibilities. I’m on the hospitality committee!”

  Uncle Monty was waving. “I’ll see you both in a year.” The screen went blank.

  “This is a disaster,” Victoria grumbled.

  “He can’t split us up, Tori,” McKenna said fiercely.

  McKenna had always watched out for Victoria, as she was the younger and weaker of the two. The word everyone used to describe her was fragile. Just like their mother, who had died during an asthma attack, Victoria had weak lungs, too.

  She looked back at the screen, but it was blank; their uncle was gone.

  As if choreographed, she and McKenna pulled out their phones at the same time.

  “It won’t do any good,” Terrence said, pointing to their cells. “Monty is on a trip around the world for the next year. You are welcome to email him, but he’ll only have limited access.”

  “He can’t do this to us!” Victoria wanted to scream. “He can’t make us go to Alaska!”

  “True,” Terrence said. “Neither of you has to accept your assignment.”

  “Really?” McKenna said.

  “Yes. You can stay here. Get jobs and pay your own way in the world.”

  He didn’t say the rest, but Victoria could read his expression. Pay your own way, just like the rest of us.

  Terrence continued. “All assets are frozen except a modest allowance for incidentals, nothing like the unlimited access to cash and credit you had before.”

  “What about Tori’s medication? Her inhaler?” McKenna looked as worried as she always did where Victoria’s breathing issues were concerned.

  “Of course,” Terrence said, giving Victoria a pitying glance. “I’ll have all of her prescriptions mailed to Sweet Home.”

  McKenna didn’t look satisfied.

  “Fine,” Victoria said, tired of always being the sickly one. “We’ll do it.”

  “We will?” McKenna said. “We’ll stay here and get jobs? Do it on our own without the trust fund? Okay, but I don’t think your master’s degree in ancient literature and mine in parks and recreation are going to pay enough to feed us, let alone make rent on the condo.”

  “No, silly. We’re going to accept the challenge and go to Alaska. Uncle wants us to get out of our comfort zones, and we will.”

  McKenna shook her head. “Alaska is a good fit for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you. Remember when I dragged you to Thailand? You didn’t exactly love roughing it.”

  Victoria was determined to prove her uncle—and that snooty Terrence—wrong. “Come on, sis. We can do this. A year will go by quickly,” she added comfortingly, but she didn’t believe it. The year would drag on. It would be miserable.

  * * *

  • • •

  SIX DAYS LATER, Victoria and McKenna were on a plane to Anchorage, both of them still shell-shocked from uprooting their life in Texas. When the pilot announced they would be landing soon, they reached for each other’s hand and held on tight. Not because they were afraid of a bumpy touchdown but because they would soon be separated.

  “We’ve never been apart for more than a few days,” Victoria whispered.

  “I know.” McKenna’s voice was filled with worry. “Did you pack your nebulizer?”

  “You’ve asked a million times. And yes, I have it packed. Along with my EpiPen.”

  “I can’t stand it that I won’t be there with you,” McKenna said.

  “Stop worrying.” Something Victoria said often to her overprotective sister. But then it all overwhelmed her again. “A homestead! It sounds dreadful. Like living in Little House on the Prairie.” It rang of hard work and broken nails. She glanced down at her perfect manicure, knowing it might be some time before her hands looked this nice again. Glancing out the window, she saw her reflection. “No highlights or shopping malls.” She knew most people saw her as pampered and shallow, but she wasn’t as spoiled as she let on. Not even McKenna knew the joy Victoria got from shopping for the women’s shelter. After all, every woman—homeless or not—deserved to look good when interviewing for a job! Victoria’s other clandestine pastimes? Stocking the local food pantry and paying random people’s utility bills through the Pay It Forward Organization. Why did Victoria keep her charitable acts a secret from everyone, even her sister? A long time ago, Uncle Monty gave her some sage advice: When you do nice things for others, do it anonymously, never toot your own horn.

  How was she supposed to do those things when her accounts had been frozen and she was banished to a homestead? She had no idea.

  “Tori,” her sister said, squeezing her hand. “Don’t worry. It’s all going to be okay.”

  Victoria just gave her a sad smile.

  When they got off the plane, Victoria headed straight to Starbucks.

  “What are you doing?” McKenna said.

  “Getting my last latte for a year!”

  Surprisingly, McKenna ordered a drink as well instead of rushing her like usual. They took a couple of sips and headed for baggage claim. When they arrived there, two rather attractive men—one in a suit, the other in jeans—were holding up signs with their names. As expected, the suit was holding McKenna’s name, and the mountain man was holding Victoria’s. The girls turned and frowned at each other.

  “Let’s get this over with so we can get back to our normal lives,” Victoria said firmly. She set her sights on Mr. Mountain Man, walking straight to him. “I’m Victoria St. James.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Jesse Montana.” He scanned the sleek black dress she’d bought at Nordstrom’s. He took in every inch of her with his eyes, and seemed to be appreciating the view, and at the same time, he looked like he might be biting his tongue. To top it off, he glanced over at McKenna and nodded as if to say she knew how to dress properly. McKenna was wearing her L.L.Bean flannel shirt, Levi jeans, and Merrell hiking boots, looking like the next wholesome cover model for an REI ad.

  Victoria bit off her next words. “Is something wrong?”

  “You do know, don’t you, that I’m taking you to a cabin in the woods?”

  “Of course,” she said, steeling her eyes and maintaining eye contact.

  He broke away first and gestured to McKenna’s handler, Mr. Business Attire, Victoria’s kind of guy. “Okay, well, this is my friend Luke McAvoy. He works at First National Bank here in Anchorage.”

  Luke gave her a sparkling smile. “Nice to meet you, Victoria.” His voice was deep and rich. She couldn’t help but smile back.

  But the frown on McKenna’s face displayed her unhappiness. Not because Victoria was smiling at him, but because she was stuck with a banker, dashing though he might be.

  The baggage claim horn blew, and the conveyor belt motored on. Jesse
tilted his head toward the carousel. “Let’s get your bags.”

  Victoria stared at him for a moment. If there was any way she could get by without Uncle Monty’s Gold Card, she would’ve grabbed her sister and hopped on the next flight back to Dallas.

  Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Point out your luggage. We’ll follow you.”

  McKenna looped her arm through Victoria’s and leaned over. “What if we just switch places? No one would ever know.”

  “Yeah, but we would,” Victoria said with a sigh.

  “I know.”

  As luck would have it, their luggage was first—McKenna’s brown duffel bag and Victoria’s three oversized Louis Vuittons. “That’s McKenna’s and those are mine.” Victoria stood back and waited. McKenna reached for her duffel, but Luke grabbed it first.

  When the men had their luggage beside them, Jesse nodded to Victoria. “Say your good-byes.”

  Victoria thought she might cry, which would be utterly humiliating.

  McKenna hugged her. “I need you to take care of yourself, Tori.” She squeezed her tighter. “I’m going to miss you so much!”

  “I’m going to miss you, too.” She didn’t want to let go, but she finally stepped away. “I’m going to text you a thousand times a day.”

  “You better!”

  Reluctantly, Victoria walked away with Jesse. “What was that all about?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “I saw that look you and Luke gave each other.”

  “Yeah, well, texting your sister a thousand times a day won’t be possible,” he said, looking down at the tile floor.

  Victoria clutched her bag with her cell inside. “I won’t let you take my phone!”

  “Calm down. That’s not it.” He motioned with his hands as if tamping down her distress. “Where we’re going there’s poor cell reception.”

  Tears threatened once again. She followed him with her rolling carry-on, trying to pull herself together. He might be right, she might not be up for the challenge, but that didn’t mean that she had to show how weak she was in front of this mountain man.