by Camille Eide
With a nasally sigh, Donna frowned and looked Savanna over. “They need their own people here taking care of us instead of leaving it up to strange guests.”
Savanna smiled gently. And some are stranger than others. But she knew better than to discount the poor woman’s concerns. She’d learned a lot from her patients during her student clinical work. People needed more than medicine and bandages to mend. A generous dose of comfort and a gentle touch went a long way to aid in healing.
After Donna left, Savanna scanned the lobby again. No sign of Luke, thank goodness. She eyed the quickest route to the breakfast bar and moved swiftly, planning to grab a tall coffee and whatever pastry had the most fruit filling. The more fruit, the healthier. She grinned, remembering how her fellow med students had challenged her to back up this theory. Sometimes a girl just needed cherries and cream cheese peeking out of a flaky pastry.
People milled around the brightly lit breakfast room, some jovial, others subdued. It seemed a hesitation had spread among the guests, a restless quiet. Savanna wondered how many guests like herself had plans to be far from here for Christmas.
She scanned the room for the usual assortment of self-serve muffins and cereal on the sideboards. Today, a table set up in the center of the room offered a colorful variety of fragrant holiday treats. Cream-filled pumpkin roll slices, warm, gooey cinnamon buns, iced orange-cranberry scones, buttery shortbreads—each tray garnished with sprigs of mint and fresh orange wedges. She’d rarely seen such amazing food anywhere else. Savanna stopped and inhaled, nearly dizzy from the blast of warm, spicy goodness. The scent of cinnamon and icing sent her taste buds zinging as sweet Celtic strains of It Came Upon The Midnight Clear played overhead.
Oh, Lord, it’s Christmas Eve. Of all the days I could be trapped at Evergreen Ridge.
It didn’t matter—it was just sweet treats, soft carols, a few strands of lights, nothing to stress about. The happiest season of the year. The celebration of the Lord’s birth. Peace, joy, goodwill, and all that.
So where exactly is the joy?
Savanna turned and slammed into Mylie, almost knocking her over.
“Oops! I need to watch where I’m going,” Savanna said, waving away Mr. Freeman’s apology. Mylie wrapped her arms around Savanna’s thighs. Savanna crouched and gave the little girl a snuggly hug, inhaling her clean, cottony scent.
Ah. Found it. Thanks, Lord.
“I beg your pardon, m’lady,” Savanna said to the little girl in all seriousness. “I’ll try to be more careful. There are laws against running over princesses around here.”
Mylie giggled. “Me and Papa are making breakfast for Gramma ‘cause she’s still fixing her hair. I'm gonna make it.”
Savanna led them to the table and helped Mylie get a plate, watching the child’s face as she took in the Christmas music, the treats and all the trimmings. Savanna felt a rush of pleasure knowing she’d helped the child have a more normal Christmas than she would have had at home. Mylie would have spent the holiday traveling back and forth to the hospital, perhaps witnessing the passing of her other grandpa, and her mama’s grief.
Once Mylie and her grandpa had finished their mission and left, Savanna took a tiny sample of each treat, then filled a tall paper cup with coffee and a splash of cream, capped it, and headed for her room. Hopefully crews were working on the roadblock, and the wait wouldn’t be too long.
As she neared the bustling front desk, she glanced over the staff and saw him. Luke was on the phone and also nodding to one of the desk attendants, mouthing something to the woman. Savanna quickened her pace, hoping to avoid his attention. As she passed by she glanced at him again. This time he looked up and stiffened when his eyes met hers.
What was going through his mind?
On second thought, never mind. I don’t want to know.
She hurried up the stairs.
5
After three episodes of Little House on the Prairie, Savanna had seen enough of the inside of her hotel room to last the rest of her life. No surprise, she’d never been able to sit still long. Hiding out to avoid Luke was a great idea—in theory. But in reality, listening to the wind and watching Pa Ingalls solve all of Laura’s problems in forty-two minutes made Savanna want to set her toenails on fire. She needed to breathe, to do something.
She phoned the front desk on the crazy hope that the lifts were open. Not a chance. In fact, the white-out continued, and a warning had been issued not to venture out until the storm passed. The mountain was off limits until further notice.
Luke or no Luke, she would go spastic without something to do. Savanna slipped out and went downstairs. People crowded around the front desk, some apparently waiting to use the phone. Few people had cell service here—Savanna included. She made a mental note to call her mom next chance she got and let her know she’d be getting to her place later than planned.
Keeping an eye out for Luke, she hurried to the lobby. The smells of evergreens and wood smoke, spices and fresh coffee greeted her. Outside the long windows, thick snow flurries obliterated the view, casting a milky light throughout the lodge. She peeked inside the Fireside Room and spotted the Freemans sitting on a small couch near the tree. Mylie sat on the rug in front of them, her riotous red hair tilting and straightening as she worked on something. Making sure Luke was not in the room, Savanna stepped inside and heard the little girl naming off Rudolph’s reindeer buds one by one on her coloring book page. She’d colored all of them blue. Savanna smiled. Mrs. Freeman saw her and motioned her in. Savanna helped herself to a fresh cup of coffee at the sideboard and joined the threesome.
“Hi, Savanna,” Mrs. Freeman said. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m good, thanks,” she said, smiling. As she joined Mylie cross-legged on the rug, she was suddenly transported back four years, the memory of her and Luke sitting close together beside a similar Christmas tree rushing back in vivid color. This spot, his arms encircling her, his breath at her ear sending tingles down the nape of her neck, speaking in low tones meant for her alone, saying things that kicked her heart into a crazy beat and stirred a warm shockwave…
Get a grip. Now.
The Christmas tree smelled fresh and fragrant, like a crisp winter day. Savanna inhaled the scent again and forced aside memories of another time, another life. Today was what it was, and, Lord willing, tomorrow would be a new day.
Lord, You know the plans you have for me. Plans to give me hope and a future. I’m going to trust You to lead me to them. Please give me the wisdom and courage to follow.
When Mylie had finished showing her artwork to her grandma, Mrs. Freeman looked up. “I’m so sorry you didn’t get to leave, Savanna.” She had a soft, cheery voice and a youthful beauty that belied her age. “But I guess if you had to be stranded at Christmas, you could do a lot worse. Isn’t it just lovely here? I love how they do Christmas.”
Smiling, Savanna agreed.
“Do they have any idea when the roads will be open?” Mr. Freeman asked.
“Not that I know of. They said as soon as the storm lets up enough, the highway department will get plows out to work on the slides.”
“So what’s next for you?” Mrs. Freeman asked. “Will you be returning to Boston to work now that you’ve finished school?”
“I had hoped to, but none of the hospitals where I did my clinicals were interested in my resume. So now, I’m sending it out all over the country and praying something will open up. It’s a tough field to break into. Few openings for new grads and a lot of competition.”
Mylie crawled into her lap and explained some of her artwork. Savanna praised her work and gave her a squeeze.
“Sounds tough,” Mr. Freeman said. “Doesn’t give you much chance to make any plans then, does it? I mean, how are you supposed to settle down and start a family when you don’t even know what part of the country you’ll end up in?”
Her only answer was a dull pang in her chest. By the time she had decided what she wanted
to do, and then had to wait to be accepted into the nursing program, she had lagged behind her married friends. Then in nursing school, she had to work so hard that she couldn't let herself think about a family of her own.
Mrs. Freeman smacked his arm. “Oh, George, she’s only twenty-seven. Leave the poor girl alone. She’ll do what she wants when she’s ready.” The rebuke was softened by a tender smile. She turned to Savanna. “A pretty girl like you will find a fabulous guy in no time.”
So much for leaving me alone until I’m ready. Savanna chuckled. “It’ll take a brave man to put up with me, and with your son already taken, I’m afraid that doesn’t leave much to choose from.”
Mrs. Freeman glowed at the mention of her son. “What? No. You’re a beautiful girl!” She turned to her husband. “Don’t you think she looks like Sandra Bullock? I always thought she looked just like her.” With a smile, she leaned forward and gave Savanna’s hand a pat. “With your sweet personality and that gorgeous figure, you won’t have any trouble meeting someone.”
Savanna mumbled her thanks, not sure how to respond.
“Now Kathy, how come you can get away with saying something like that to a woman, but if I said it, I’d be in the doghouse till Armageddon?”
Savanna bit back a smile.
“You have a dog, Papa?” Mylie’s head snapped up from her work, sending her curls bouncing. Her Papa smirked at his wife and mumbled something about Gramma’s short leash.
Mrs. Freeman turned to Savanna. “Didn’t you meet lots of handsome, single young doctors in Boston?”
“Honey, she’s a real nurse,” Mr. Freeman said, his eyes pleading to the ceiling. “This is life, not a soap opera.”
Savanna laughed. “Yes, there were quite a few doctors there.” Plenty. Young, handsome and focused on coming out ahead of the pack, just as she’d been.
“Savanna, don’t listen to Kathy. She obviously doesn’t have any use for rich, handsome men. She married me, didn’t she?” He winked at Mylie.
“I did. But I almost didn’t.” Kathy Freeman’s brows shot up. “In fact, we barely made it to the altar.” She looked at her husband as if to hint it was his job to supply the details.
“Ah. She doesn’t want to hear that story, Kath.”
“I do,” Mylie piped in, scrambling into his lap. “Daddy says Papa is full of stories.”
With a glance at his granddaughter, George Freeman drew a deep breath, exhaled. “We were engaged, but then…I told her I wasn’t the marrying kind and it wouldn’t work. Kathy didn’t know what to make of that, as you can imagine—”
“Well she can’t imagine until you finish the story, George. Oh, never mind, I will.” Kathy leaned down closer to Savanna, her face geared up for a dramatic delivery. “He didn’t have the guts to break up with me so I broke up with him, even though it nearly shattered my heart. Then about two years later, he asked me to meet him. Said he needed to explain something. I was seeing another guy at the time—”
“Pencil-neck bozo with a snout the size of—”
“—but I told George I’d meet him anyway. Because even though he broke my heart, I still loved him, even if he was a big fat jerk.”
Savanna winced, hoping Mylie wasn’t taking notes.
“Hey!” George scowled but his mouth hinted at a grin. “If I’m fat, it’s your fault.”
“Like I force you to stop at the donut shop. Anyway, when I met him, he told me something I never knew about him. He’d grown up in a home where there was no relationship between his parents. As a boy, he’d overheard his mom tell his dad she’d never wanted this life, never wanted kids, hated taking care of everyone else. They stayed together all those years and put on a front for the kids, yet he always remembered what his mom had said. It had affected the way he saw marriage. He was afraid of getting close and finding out the relationship was all a lie. But when he became a Christian, he began to understand that some of the things he’d believed weren’t true. That some marriages are truly happy. He said he wished he’d told me that sooner and that he was sorry he’d hurt me.” She turned to him, her pretty blue eyes glistening. “I wish you had told me, too. I’d been blaming myself.”
Frowning, George pressed his lips tight and swept a little piece of hair out of Mylie’s eye.
Kathy resumed. “Because of what he’d seen, he wasn’t sure I really loved him. It had taken him two whole years to admit he was just afraid.”
Savanna stared at George Freeman. He was very quiet, concentrating on helping Mylie sort her crayons in the box.
“So after all that time,” Savanna said softly, “you went back to her and explained?”
George nodded, rearranging the crayons by color.
“Why? I mean—if you don’t mind me asking?”
He exhaled deep and snapped the lid on the crayons shut. “She was the love of my life. I owed it to her.” He handed the box to Mylie and then looked over the child’s head at Kathy. “Even if it didn’t change anything, I figured she deserved to know the truth.”
A rush of emotion washed over Savanna. Her heart raced as the realization dawned: she owed Luke an explanation. The real explanation.
Because he was the love of my life. And I believe he always will be.
Savanna drew a shaky breath and stood. She thanked the Freemans, brushed a quick kiss on Mylie’s forehead, and excused herself.
Time to set things straight.
6
As she waited her turn at the desk, Savanna imagined poor Kathy Freeman all that time feeling brokenhearted and confused. Savanna swallowed hard, forcing back a lump. What had Luke thought? That she looked down on him, that she believed his ambitions weren’t good enough for her? After all the ways he’d shown and professed his love, how could she have allowed him to think those things? She’d never confided in him about her fears and the things she was now ashamed to admit had driven her. He deserved the truth. If she could get him to listen. And it didn’t matter how he responded, as long as she could say what was on her mind. She’d already lost him, so she had nothing more to lose.
She moved up to the desk in turn. The perky, platinum blonde at the counter prompted a thought that stung her heart.
What if he’s seeing someone?
So what if he is? He has every right and that’s not the point.
The blonde—Tiffany according to her gold pin—smiled at Savanna. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’d like to speak to Luke Nelson, please.”
“Is…there a problem?”
“No, it’s a personal matter.”
Tiffany’s expression made a slight, barely visible shift. She had enough professional training to mask her sudden curiosity. Almost. “Your name?”
“Savanna Holt.”
Puckering her glossy lips, the girl turned to the house phone at the back counter. It took a few tries before she reached someone. She spoke in low tones for a moment, and then turned back to Savanna.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Nelson is not available.” She smiled again. “Want to try back later?”
Knowing Luke didn’t want to see or talk to her felt like a punch to the gut, but also came as no surprise. Savanna drew a deep breath. “Do you know where he is?”
Tiffany’s training continued to hold. She shook her head slowly, pinning Savanna with her steady gaze. “I’m sorry, all I know is that he’s unavailable. Is there anything I can do for you? Take a message?” She smiled sweetly.
“No, thank you.” It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can jot down on a sticky note.
Savanna walked through the lobby and then through each of the smaller meeting areas, looking for him. When she didn’t see him on the lower level, she went to the second floor, then the third. No sign of him. He could be in a meeting or in his office.
Or just unavailable to me.
Back in the lobby, she checked the time. Just past noon. If the roads became passable today, the guests who had stayed over unexpectedly would vacate their rooms to allow for new
guests arriving with reservations.
Patience. I’ll find him. But then patience had never been one of Savanna’s gifts.
The lobby fireplace was ablaze with crackling flames that popped and sparked as she passed, sending her nerves dancing. She had a sudden craving for fresh air and didn’t care how cold it was. She hurried up to her room and grabbed her coat, stocking hat and gloves. Then she bundled up and went downstairs, through the Fireside Room, and let herself out onto the deck.
The biting wind howled, even through her hat. She tugged her hood on and cinched the drawstrings tight, then zipped the coat to her chin. The snow didn’t fall—it whipped sideways like static on a TV screen. And though the air was almost too cold to breathe, it felt exhilarating. Savanna filled her lungs, closed her eyes. Saw Luke’s face in her mind.
Lord, he deserves to know the truth, even if seeing me again and hearing it brought up hurts. Is that wrong? I just want to do the right thing. If hearing this will help his heart heal, then please help me make it happen.
And maybe…he can eventually forgive me.
She trudged through knee-deep drifts of snow to the far end of the deck, barely able to see anything but massive drifts of white where clusters of trees used to be. From here, she could make out the base of the mountain once in a while when the flurries shifted and eased up. Large clumps of snow slid off the roof and landed nearby. She breathed in again, trying to take in enough icy air to freeze her nerves and still the swirling emotions in her heart.
Maybe her being at Evergreen Ridge now and being delayed by a snowslide wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe this was a God-thing, a chance to right a wrong. A chance to help someone heal. A chance to—
“Hey!”
Savanna turned toward the muffled voice.
Someone in a resort parka approached. “Sorry, but this area is off limits. It’s not safe.”
Luke.
“Savanna?” He came close. “What are you doing out here? You should know you can’t be out here during a storm.”
