“Good morning.” Ursula laughed. “I guess we know where we rank around here. Mac and I are here, too, you know.”
Rory looked up from petting Blossom and grinned. “Good morning, Mac. Good morning, Ursula. Can we make a snowman today?”
“I need to head over to the cabin soon to feed my woodstove,” Mac said, “or my pipes might freeze.”
“Can I come?” Rory begged. “We didn’t get to go snowshoeing.”
“If it’s okay with Ursula.”
“We can all go,” Ursula said, “once we’ve had breakfast. After that, we’ll see about building a snowman. What are you hungry for?”
“Oatmeal.” Rory dashed toward the pantry. “I’ll get the dried blueberries.”
“Is that okay with you, Mac? I’ve got eggs and bacon if you’d rather have that.” Ursula glanced at him and then looked away, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Ursula makes real good oatmeal,” Rory volunteered, popping out of the pantry carrying a jar.
“I’ll bet.” Mac replied, his eyes on Ursula. “I haven’t found anything she doesn’t do well.”
* * *
AFTER BREAKFAST, they all bundled up and strapped on their snowshoes. Mac let Rory take the lead. The trip to the cabin was uneventful, other than watching Rory run rings around him. She moved with ease and grace, even on snowshoes. She’d obviously inherited her parents’ natural athletic abilities.
Blossom, discovering it was much easier to run over a packed trail, stuck close to them, until she spotted a squirrel. She plunged into the woods, immediately vanishing as she sank into the snow. She leaped forward and sank again, making slow progress toward the tree. Meanwhile the squirrel had climbed the trunk and was watching her from just overhead, chattering. Mac and Ursula stopped to watch.
“How do sled dogs keep from falling through the snow like that?” Mac asked Ursula.
“Huskies have big feet with fur between their toes. They’re probably three times the size of Blossom’s feet, and the dogs weigh less. Besides, mushers tend to stick to packed trails.”
Blossom reached the tree and the squirrel moved to the other side of the trunk. When Blossom followed it, it circled back to their side. Blossom gradually packed the snow around the tree, following the squirrel who, rather than climbing higher, kept circling the trunk at about the six-foot level, just close enough to give Blossom hope.
Mac laughed. “I never realized squirrels had such a sense of humor.”
Ursula chuckled along with him. “They’re wicked teases.”
Rory, realizing she’d left them behind, retraced her steps. “What are you looking at?”
“Blossom’s trying to catch a squirrel.”
“It’s not Frankie, is it?” Rory asked, her eyes wide.
“I don’t think so. Don’t worry. Even if it is, Blossom doesn’t stand a chance.”
Eventually, Blossom came to the same conclusion and returned to them. Rory led the way to Mac’s cabin. They all left their snowshoes on the porch and went inside. The fire had been reduced to embers, but it was still well above freezing inside. Mac replenished the stove.
When he turned, Rory was holding one of the wood spirits he’d started on one particularly bad night. Although only roughed in, the expression on the spirit’s face was one of intense anger. Maybe he should take it away before it scared her.
But Rory didn’t seem scared. She studied the face, almost as though she recognized it. Ursula came to stand behind her and wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “Mac made that. He carves faces in wood.”
Rory pulled off her glove and touched the wood gingerly. “He’s mad.”
“Who’s mad?” Ursula asked.
“The man in the wood. He’s mad because his family went away and left him all alone.” Rory stroked the wood. “But somebody will be nice to him and he won’t be mad anymore.”
“You think so?” Ursula asked.
Rory nodded. “And then he’ll laugh, and the angels will be happy.”
Mac took a deep breath and slowly let it out. The simple wisdom of children. Rory had lost more than he ever had, and yet she was brave enough to laugh again.
But there was a big difference between his situation and Rory’s. Rory bore no responsibility for the death of her loved ones. She deserved to move forward and live a good and happy life. He wasn’t sure he could say the same.
* * *
ONCE THEY’D MADE it back to the B&B and had lunch, Rory was itching to get started on the promised snowman. Ursula urged them outside. “You two go ahead and get started. I’ll just tidy up and gather some accessories for Mr. Snowman.”
“It’s gonna be a girl,” Rory declared.
“Miss Snowman, then.” Ursula tugged Rory’s hat down so it better covered her ears. “Have fun.”
Rory led Mac and Blossom to an open area just past the deck, where her creation would be visible from the living room. Mac reached down and gathered a snowball. Fortunately, it had been relatively warm when it snowed, and the new snow stuck together nicely. He threw the ball at a tree, but missed. Blossom charged after the ball, digging furiously in the snow. She couldn’t seem to understand why she couldn’t find a snowball hidden within a snowdrift. Rory laughed so hard she hiccuped.
Once she’d caught her breath, Rory patted a ball together, set it on the ground and started rolling it, picking up snow as she went. Obviously not her first snowman. When the ball grew to the point she was having trouble pushing it, Mac helped her roll it to a spot directly in front of the windows. They stepped back, and Blossom jumped onto the snowball and stood there wagging her tail.
Rory giggled. “She thinks we made her a chair.”
“Or maybe a throne. We’ll let her enjoy it while we roll the next snowball.” As soon as they turned their attention away, Blossom jumped down and scurried over to see what they were doing, snuffling along behind the ball Rory was rolling.
Once Rory declared it the right size, Mac lifted the heavy ball on top of the first one, and they patted more snow around the middle. Rory was rolling the ball for a head when Ursula joined them. She’d brought the traditional carrot for a nose, along with dark polished rocks, a couple of different hats and a hank of yellow yarn.
“Where’d you get the rocks?” Mac asked.
“They were in the pot with my ficus tree. I’ll get more from the creek next summer.”
Rory carried the last snowball over to Ursula. “Look what me and Mac made.”
“It’s a big one.”
“The biggest one ever. Mac, can you put this on top? I can’t reach.”
Mac set the head in place and then held Rory up so she could arrange the carrot and rocks into a face for her snowperson. With Ursula’s help, she braided the yarn into a long rope and draped it over the head, then added a winter hat and birch branches for arms. She stood back to inspect it. “She needs ski poles.”
“There are some old ones hanging on the wall in the garage,” Ursula told her. “Why don’t you run get them?”
While they waited, Ursula came to stand beside Mac. “Nice job. Thanks for helping Rory build it.”
“No need to thank me. I enjoyed it.” And, to his surprise, Mac realized it was the truth. Rory’s energy and enthusiasm were contagious. It had been a long time since he’d done any playing.
Rory came back, carrying a pair of black ski poles. Blossom tagged along beside her, apparently no longer concerned about sticks, at least as far as Rory was concerned. Rory hooked the poles onto the branch hands so that her snow girl appeared to be skiing. She looked it over and pronounced it good. Mac pulled out his phone and took Rory’s photo, posing beside her snow creation.
Afterward, they went inside to sip hot chocolate and admire the view through the window. A raven landed on the snowgirl’s hat.
“Wha
t’s he doing?” Rory ran to the window. A minute later, the raven snatched the carrot and flew away. “Hey, that’s our carrot. Bring it back.”
Ursula laughed. “He probably needs it worse than you do. You can take another carrot out later. Or maybe a potato would be less tempting.”
Rory returned to the couch while she thought it over. “Potatoes don’t look like noses.”
Mac tapped his finger on the end of Rory’s upturned nose. “Yours doesn’t look much like a carrot either.”
“I have some hot peppers,” Ursula said. “Maybe that would discourage the raven.”
Rory accepted a green jalapeño and ran outside to replace the carrot. It looked good. Mac decided all snowmen should have pepper noses. “I can’t wait to see the raven’s reaction if he tries to steal it.”
The sun had set and the three of them were in the kitchen washing the hot chocolate mugs when the motion-sensing light over the garage flashed on.
“Oh, good,” Ursula said. “That means the power’s restored. I’ll go shut down the generator.”
Mac set the last mug in the drainer. “Guess I’d better head home.” Not that he wanted to. He’d found a little interlude of tranquility here at Ursula’s inn with her and Rory. He realized, with a pang of guilt, that he’d almost forgotten about Andi’s murder for a day. But he didn’t want to forget. The killer was still out there. Mac hadn’t been able to keep his daughter safe, but he was going to do whatever it took to make sure her murderer was caught and punished. He shouldn’t be having fun while Joel Thaine was free.
“Stay for supper,” Ursula urged.
“No. I need to go.” Mac slipped into his coat and hat and shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
Rory ran to give him a hug. “I can build a snowman at your house tomorrow if you want.”
“I don’t think so.” Mac patted her head. “But thank you for the offer. And thank you for sharing your home with me.” He bent to fasten Blossom’s coat.
“Bye, Blossom.” Rory hugged the dog. “Remember to give Mac lots of kisses.”
Mac almost let it go, but his curiosity won out. “Why should Blossom give me lots of kisses?”
Rory gave him a pitying look, like the answer should be obvious. “Because dog kisses make you laugh,” she said. “And laughing makes the angels happy.”
CHAPTER NINE
AS SOON AS Mac had checked the cabin to make sure the heat and refrigerator were running, he pulled out his phone and called the private investigator. Chandler answered on the second ring.
“It’s Mac. I’ve been out of touch for a couple of days, so I wanted to check in. Have you found anything?”
Chandler made a noncommittal noise. “Afraid I don’t have much to report. I’ve followed every lead from the hotline, and so far they’ve all been mistaken identity.”
“I’ve been thinking. The police believe Thaine is still in the US, so eventually he’ll turn up. In the meantime, why don’t you focus on background? When they catch him, I want to make sure he stays caught.”
“The cops didn’t find any previous arrests.”
“I know. But people don’t turn into killers overnight.” Over the years, Mac had poured over the research regarding the psychology of murderers. “There’s bound to be a trail. What have you discovered about family?”
“Parents are dead. A half-sister out there somewhere, but haven’t yet been able to locate her. They were raised in separate households. No phone calls between them in the last three years.”
“Neighbors?”
“Not much there. ‘Kept to himself. Seemed nice enough.’ The usual story.” Chandler paused. “I do have a childhood address. I could see who’s still living there, see if anyone remembers the family. It’s a long shot.”
“Do it. Let me know what you find.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Mac hung up the phone, trying to think of another string to pull, another lead to follow. He’d failed Andi. He’d recognized that she was pulling away, putting distance between them, but he’d been so busy writing books he’d failed to recognize it wasn’t her need for independence but her boyfriend’s manipulations that caused her to push him away. If Mac had been paying attention, he’d have been in time to keep her safe.
He wasn’t going to fail her again. He didn’t need to be spending his time building snowmen and kissing pretty innkeepers. Not with Andi’s killer still on the loose.
* * *
URSULA MADE A final room check for the three couples arriving that afternoon, now that the Seward highway was clear. Two of the couples were repeat customers who came out every winter to ski. The third were first-timers. When the woman made the reservation, she’d mentioned they’d be on their honeymoon. She was so excited she’d insisted on telling Ursula the whole story. It was a second marriage for them both. The two couples had been good friends for decades. They lost their spouses within two years of each other and in comforting one another, they’d fallen in love.
Ursula loved stories like that. She put them in the best suite at the end of the hall and set out a bowl of chocolates. She hadn’t had a chance to get into town for flowers, so she moved the biggest African violet from the kitchen to their room along with an iron candelabra and beeswax battery-powered candles. Instant romance.
As an innkeeper, she’d witnessed plenty of romance but hadn’t experienced it herself in the past few years. Not until yesterday. She touched her finger to her lips, remembering Mac’s kiss in the kitchen. He’d stayed with them less than twenty-four hours, and yet it felt like he belonged there. Rory clearly thought so. She’d asked about Mac this morning before school. Ursula had explained that Mac was busy, that they wouldn’t be seeing much of him. She didn’t want Rory disappointed when he withdrew into his shell once again.
For one day, they’d experienced the real Mac. The man who built snowmen and played cards with little girls and enjoyed life. For one day, he’d held his grief and guilt at bay and let himself live. But then, when the electricity came back on, reality returned and Ursula could almost see the dark rain cloud settle over his head. His grief was all he had left of his daughter, and he was holding onto it for all he was worth.
So why did he kiss her? Maybe it was a simple gesture of comfort after she’d almost fallen off the chair, but that’s not what it felt like. There was heat in that kiss. It might have been a while, but Ursula knew the difference between a casual peck and a kiss that meant something. A kiss that led somewhere.
“Aargh.” Ursula shook herself like a dog. Why was she even bothering to think about that kiss? Whatever it might have been, it was over. It wasn’t going to happen again. If she knew what was good for her, she’d keep Mac at arm’s length. Because, as much as she liked him, in the long run Mac wasn’t good for her or Rory.
Ursula had seen guilt and blame rob her family of happiness when her brother died. She wasn’t going to let that happen to them. Rory deserved better.
* * *
URSULA’S RESOLVE LASTED a little over a week, until the first weekend of Cabin Fever Festival. Rory was excited about attending the fun winter event in Anchorage, and she insisted Mac and Blossom would want to go with them.
How could Ursula explain Mac wouldn’t want to come, because he might accidentally have a good time? Rory couldn’t possibly understand. She’d played with Mac, built the snowman; she knew he was capable of fun.
“I’ll call him,” Rory offered.
Well, why not? If Mac didn’t want to come, he could explain it to Rory. Why should Ursula have to make excuses for him? She trusted him to be careful of Rory’s feelings.
“Here.” Ursula pulled up the number on her phone. “Go ahead.”
Rory pushed dial and held the phone to her ear. It rang several times, and Ursula had just come to the conclusion that he wasn’t
going to pick up when he did. Rory jumped right in. “Hi, Mac. Do you wanna come to the Cabin Fever Festival with us tomorrow? There’s a Ferris wheel and reindeer, and Sam and Dana and Griffin will be there.”
She paused to listen. “Griffin is a baby. He’s my aunt.” Rory giggled. “I mean, I’m his aunt, ’cause Sam is my brother now...Uh-huh...Okay.” She handed Ursula the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
He probably wanted to tell her no so he wouldn’t have to let Rory down himself. Ursula accepted the phone. “Hello?”
“What is this about reindeer on Ferris wheels?”
Ursula laughed. “Two separate events. The Cabin Fever Festival is the winter fair in Anchorage.”
“I’ve been reading about it in the newspaper. Outhouse races?”
“And snowshoe softball. They have it all.”
“I don’t think I—”
“It’s up to you. Rory wanted to invite you.”
“This is Rory’s idea?”
“Yes.”
He paused. “I don’t want to leave Blossom alone all day.”
“You can bring her along. We can leave her at Sam’s house with his dog. Kimmik’s a Labrador. He loves everyone and everything.”
“I don’t want to disappoint Rory, but...” He trailed off. Ursula could have jumped in and assured him Rory wouldn’t be disappointed, but it wasn’t true. Rory wanted him there, and Ursula wanted Rory happy. Besides, if there was any chance for healing, Mac needed to get out, meet people, live. She let the silence build, waiting for his answer. Finally, he sighed. “What time?”
“We’ll pick you up at eight. Dress warmly. We’ll be outside most of the day.”
“Tell Rory I’ll see her then.”
Ursula smiled. “I’ll tell her.” She ended the call.
Rory was already dancing around the room. “Mac’s coming and bringing Blossom. And we get to see Sam and Dana and Griffin and Kimmik. Do you think Griffin will like Blossom?”
“I’m sure he will.” Griffin laughed every time he spotted a dog.
“Will he remember me?”
Alaskan Hideaway Page 11
