The Witch of the Winter Woods

by Foxglove Lee

Nicole shook her head no. Oh, that hurt. Easier to say the words. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

  Darla and her parents helped Nicole to her feet. Into her coat, into her boots. They wanted to show her something. Something outside.

  The three of them walked her slowly along the path and down the long driveway. Snow-covered trees on either side. Such a beautiful place to live. If Nicole had seen this on the way in, she’d certainly remember it. Especially the trees wrapped in bluish lights that glowed like stars through the snow.

  This was the kind of home Nicole had always wanted for herself.

  Darla’s parents were the kind of family she’d always dreamed of.

  “Brace yourself,” Darla’s dad said as they reached the road. “This won’t be easy to look at.”

  Nicole couldn’t imagine what he was talking about until she saw it for herself: a burned-out Dodge minivan, black where once it had been red. Everything she’d packed to bring on this trip, burned to a crisp. The gifts she’d bought for Darla, Darla’s parents, gone up in smoke.

  It was like a punch to the gut, seeing her vehicle damaged beyond recognition. They’d been together so long. That minivan had been her home when she’d had nowhere else to go. There was a part of her that wanted to run to it, wrap her arms around the char, embrace what the van had meant to her over the years.

  But she couldn’t move. Could barely stand. Barely squeak out the words, “What happened?”

  “We were hoping you could tell us,” Darla’s mother replied.

  Darla held Nicole’s hand. Held it tight. Would never let go. “You don’t remember?”

  “Don’t remember what?” Nicole asked.

  “Your van catching fire,” Darla’s mother said. “We assumed you must have been in it at the time.”

  Nicole touched her bandaged forehead. “I don’t remember. I don’t think so.”

  “We never heard any sirens,” Darla said. “And the house is so close. We definitely would have heard them if the fire department had been called out.”

  “It’s quite a puzzle,” her mother went on. “Your van clearly went up in flames. But how was the fire put out?”

  Nicole shook her head, but oh that hurt. She’d have to remember not to move. “I don’t know. I don’t know how any of this could have happened.” Looking from Darla to her caring parents, Nicole asked, “How did I get to your house?”

  “There was a knock at the door,” Darla’s mother said. “We found you collapsed on the stoop.”

  “You were unconscious,” Darla added. “So Pop carried you to the couch and I called the doctor.”

  “But we thought it was awfully strange,” her father went on. “That you’d arrived and yet there was no sign of a vehicle in the drive. Plus, the smell of fire on the air. It’s not unusual, the scent of wood fire, not around here. But this… something just seemed off.”

  Darla took off her own scarf and wrapped around Nicole’s neck. “So Pop came out to explore, and that’s when he found your van. You must have crawled to our house.”

  “I don’t remember any of this,” Nicole said.

  There had definitely been a fire. She remembered smelling it, hearing the crackle of flames. But that was inside the cottage, the stone cottage.

  The old woman! Ma!

  “Is there another house around here?” Nicole asked. “An old one in the woods, tiny, made of stone.”

  Darla’s mother and father looked at each other, sharing the same haunted expression.

  “What?” Nicole asked. “What’s wrong?”

  They didn’t want to take her there, not in her condition, but she insisted. She needed to see the old woman, Ma. To thank her. Ma must have saved her from the burning wreck. What other explanation could there be? She must have dreamed… she didn’t know what.

  Seeing Ma in the road, was that a dream? Because she remembered parking her van at the side of the road. It definitely wasn’t on fire when she left it. Then she’d followed Ma into the woods, into her cozy cottage. She’d fallen asleep after that. Hearing voices. Smelling fire.

  What on earth had happened to her?

  She needed to know.

  Nicole insisted Darla and her parents lead the way to the cottage in the woods. It wasn’t a good idea, went contrary to doctor’s orders, but she had to see Ma, ask the old woman what had really happened tonight.

  Traipsing through the snow-covered woods wasn’t exactly fun, not in Nicole’s rough state, not even with three people helping her over the fallen branches and through the drifts.

  How on earth was a woman as old as Ma able to move around this forest so easily? And hadn’t her feet been bare? Or had Darla dreamed that bit?

  “Here it is,” Darla’s dad finally said. “The old stone house, circa 1670.”

  Nicole didn’t understand. The house was in ruins. Only three of four walls remained, and they’d clearly crumbled long ago. Nicole could make out the doorway, but there was no door. No roof.

  She insisted on entering the structure, such as it was, but inside was nothing but snow.

  “I don’t understand,” Nicole whispered. “There was a fire here, a wood stove. There was wood furniture. There were herbs hanging from the ceiling, hanging everywhere. She lived here. I fell asleep on the floor.”

  Cautiously, Darla asked, “Who lived here?”

  “Ma,” Nicole replied. “That’s what she told me to call her. I don’t know what her real name was. She was old, an old lady, and she had on tattered shoes and a wool skirt and a big shawl. Grey hair, or silver I guess, and lots of it, kind of wild. But there must be another cottage. Hers had a roof. And a door. And four walls.”

  There was a lot of whispering between Darla and her parents after that, but Nicole started to feel faint, like something was draining her energy. None of this made any sense, but her brain was too enflamed to listen harder. Their voices became a high-pitched buzz in her ears.

  “I just need to… lie down…” Nicole said, slipping from their arms until her knees met the snow.

  Knees, shoulders, face. Sweet relief. The cold snow on her hot cheeks felt wonderful. She could stay right here all night.

  * * * *

  She was in and out of sleep on the couch, guarded by the Christmas tree, Darla seating on the floor, never away. The doctor came and went. His voice sounded like the trumpeting teacher from Charlie Brown, but Darla’s parents seemed to understand and take heed.

  The word concussion reared its ugly head. She was sure of nothing else.

  Hazy days blinked by. She wasn’t sure if she’d eaten anything, had water, even gone to the bathroom. Darla’s dad did mention her van had been removed from the road, but what could she do? It was damaged beyond repair.

  And then Christmas Day arrived.

  How did Nicole know it was Christmas? That, she couldn’t say, but she woke up Christmas morning feeling clear-headed. Finally!

  Her body remained weak, but not so weak she couldn’t rise and shine, wander the main floor of the house while Darla slept in the chair across the room, parents upstairs.

  Nicole felt famished, found chocolate shortbread in the kitchen, snapped on the kettle. Tea in the canister. The kitchen was easy to navigate.

  When she sat at the island with her tea and her cookies, she could look out the picture window, across the snowy expanse. She’d never been anywhere as beautiful as this property where Darla lived with her parents. A twinge of jealous panged in the pit of her stomach. Her apartment back home didn’t have a scenic view, didn’t have this comfy furniture, this cozy ambiance, this spacious kitchen, this family.

  As she watched the peaceful calm of a Christmas morning, a pair of deer made their way across the clearing. The sight brought tears to Nicole’s eyes. She wanted to rush to Darla, wake her from sleep, tell her to come look, but she couldn’t budge. Not an inch. She just watched the pair prance daintily through the snow, finding fallen apples under the blanket of snow.

  It was the most beautiful
thing Nicole had seen since she didn’t know when.

  “Morning deer,” said a sleepy voice from across the island.

  Nicole smiled. “Same to you.”

  Darla giggled dreamily, pointing out the window. “No, it’s the morning deer. We also have evening deer.”

  “Well, aren’t you lucky?”

  Darla wrapped her arms around Nicole from behind, kissed her head, then immediately apologized. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

  “No,” Nicole replied, wrapping her hands around Darla’s forearms. “Felt nice.”

  As they watched the morning deer prance in the snow, Darla said, “You’re feeling a little better today?”

  “A lot better.”

  “It’s a Christmas miracle.” Darla kissed her again, side of her head this time. “We were so worried about you. Mom and Pop are going to be over the moon when they see you up and about.”

  Nicole felt warm all over, hearing that. Someone cared. Darla did, of course. But her mother and her father. They cared so much Nicole could feel it swirling around her heart, such a beautiful feeling. She never wanted it to end.

  Darla started cracking eggs for breakfast. When her parents crept downstairs and found Nicole in a seated position, conscious and alert, they asked if it would be okay to give her a hug. The question itself brought tears to her eyes, and when she welcomed their hugs and they wished her a Merry Christmas, those tears streamed down her cheeks. They apologized for upsetting her, but she assured them it wasn’t that. This was just the best Christmas she’d ever had.

  “Already?” Darla’s dad asked. “Christmas hasn’t even started yet.”

  The whole family participated in preparing breakfast. They wouldn’t let Nicole lift a finger. She needed to take it easy, get up her strength. Oh, was that tea? The doctor said no caffeine. But no worries, Darla’s mother would heat her up some apple cider. Did she like apple cider? What?! She’d never tried it? Well, she’d have to. It was a Christmas tradition in their household.

  Breakfast was delicious: sausages, eggs, bacon, French toast with berries and real maple syrup, whipped cream on top, and not even the kind from a can! And apple cider. Delicious. Nicole knew for a fact that Darla usually drank coffee in the morning, but the family didn’t want to introduce that tempting aroma into the air if Nicole couldn’t have any.

  Nobody had ever taken care of her like this, not in all her years on earth. They made her feel so special, so cared for.

  After breakfast, they opened stockings. There was one for Nicole too, full of odds and ends: socks, tangerines, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a notepad with her name at the top and a pencil with a rainbow eraser.

  “I feel so bad,” Nicole told the family as they moved on to the neatly wrapped gifts under the tree. “All the presents I brought went up in flames.”

  “It’s the thought that counts,” Darla’s father said, and he really seemed to mean it.

  Grabbing Nicole’s thigh, Darla added, “That’s right. You can tell us what you bought us and we’ll ooh and ahhh.”

  With a smirk, Nicole said, “In that case, Pop, I bought you a helicopter…”

  “Wow, my very own helicopter?” he asked, all jokey and kidding around. “How’d you manage to fit that in a minivan?”

  “I tell ya, it wasn’t easy. Especially since I had to make room for the yacht I bought you, Mom.”

  “Well, color me impressed!” Darla’s mother said. “And Pop only got me pajamas.”

  “Only the best for my beloved wife,” he said, sitting on the arm rest of Mom’s chair and cuddling up to her.

  They were so cute together, Darla’s parents.

  “What about me?” Darla asked. “What’d you get me?”

  A sudden memory sprang to mind, and Nicole struggled to speed toward the front door.

  “What is it?” Darla’s father called after her. “What’s wrong?”

  Nicole found her winter jacket hanging on the hook, felt around in the pockets. “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.”

  She pulled out the small box she’d wrapped to the best of her ability, though it looked nowhere near as nice as the rest of the gifts. She’d kept it in her pocket to make sure she wouldn’t lose it.

  And she hadn’t, through all the trials of the past few days.

  She hadn’t lost it. Here it was.

  Did she still have the courage to give it to Darla?

  Oh, who was she kidding? After the couple of days she’d just spent with Darla and her parents, Nicole knew now more than ever what she wanted in life. It could all come crashing down at any moment. Best to spend your hours with the people you love, and who love you back.

  “It’s not the best or the most expensive,” Nicole explained. “But it’s the best I can afford right now. Anyway, it’s only a promise ring. The engagement ring will be much, much nicer.”

  Darla’s face dropped as Nicole handed her the box. She just sat there on the floor beside the Christmas tree, staring as Nicole sat at the end of the couch, close to the fire.

  “Well?” Nicole prodded. “Go ahead and open it.”

  At first, Darla didn’t react at all. Then she tore off the foil paper and cracked open the jewelry case.

  Nicole couldn’t read Darla’s expression as she stared at the ring. Did she like it? Did she hate it?

  Did she want it?

  “It’s a promise ring,” Nicole repeated. “You don’t have to say yes to anything, not just yet. It’s only a way for me to show you how much you mean to me, and that I don’t want anyone else in my life. Just you. And I know we’re still young, but I think one day I’d like to get married. Get married… to you.”

  Darla’s parents whimpered like kittens while Darla s slipped the ring on her finger. The Christmas lights competed with the fire to illuminate those tiny diamonds inset in the white gold band.

  “I saved up,” Nicole went on, since Darla wasn’t saying anything. “I wanted to get you the best that I could.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Darla said, and Nicole could tell she was trying not to cry. She walked over to the couch on her knees and said, “I want to hug you so hard, but I don’t want to hurt you. So I’m just going to put my hands in your hands and…”

  Darla strained up for a kiss, and for a second Nicole felt self-conscious because her parents were sitting right there. But when she looked over, she saw that Mom and Pop were beaning back at them, clutching each other, so happy for their daughter.

  So Nicole leaned forward and kissed Darla sweetly, and the second their lips touched she knew they’d be together forever.

  When Darla leaned back, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She said, “I was so worried, so scared, when we found you on the doorstep and you weren’t moving and you couldn’t speak. The past few days I really thought I’d never see the old Nicole again. I thought I’d lost you.”

  “No,” Nicole said. “Never. I’m here. I’m yours.”

  “Speaking of you being here,” Darla’s mother cut in.

  Her father shook his head, said, “Honey, I don’t think this is the time.”

  “Time for what?” Nicole asked.

  They exchanged another meaningful look, like they were having an entire conversation without words. Then Darla’s mother said, “Without your van, you’re going to have trouble getting back home. We could drive you, of course, but…”

  When Darla’s mother trailed off, her dad picked up her line of thought. “We know you have an apartment and a job and a life back home. We don’t mean to diminish that in any way. But we were thinking… you’re concussed. That could be very serious. You’ll need care in coping, and we were just thinking… just hoping…”

  Nicole looked to Darla. “What?”

  With a shy smile, Darla said, “They want you to stay here. Live here. With us.”

  Nicole’s heart palpitated. She tried to hide her glee, but it wasn’t easy. “For how long?”

  “For as long as you want,” Darla�
��s father said. “Like I mentioned, we know you have an apartment—”

  “I can sublet!” Nicole cried, so loudly Darla jumped, then laughed.

  “But you still have all your things back home, all your clothes…”

  “I can buy new things, new clothes! I’m not that attached to my belongings.”

  “Someone’s eager to move in,” said Darla’s father.

  “Who wouldn’t be?” Nicole asked. “You’ve got deer—morning and evening! I would love to live here with all of you.”

  “You could take the guest room,” Darla’s mother offered. “Or sleep with Darla. It’s all the same to us. We’re not prudes. But we want to give you your own space, if that’s what’d like. We could even look at fixing up the basement, making it into a little apartment for the two of you.”