by Jenny Hale
“Oh, honey. You can’t solve this by yourself. It isn’t something that can be solved—believe me, I’ve tried.” She looked over at David, but his gaze was on the floor, his forearms on his knees, his head lowered. He didn’t look up. They were all exhausted. “I think we’ve had a big night. Let’s get a good night’s sleep and we can talk about it all in the morning. Want to sleep in my room again?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I’ll have bad dreams.”
“Okay then. Go upstairs, I’ll be up in a minute.” Leah waited for Sadie to leave and walked over to David, and he finally looked up at her. “Thank you for finding my baby,” she said, the words struggling to leave her throat.
He stood up and put his arms around her. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. And they stayed like that, her head on his chest, until she put her arms around him too. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. It was racing. Every single emotion it was possible to feel seemed to be running through her, but bigger than it all was the warmth from David’s body, and his strong arms embracing her. She drew her arms up around his neck and kissed his cheek, the feel of his skin on her lips making her dizzy. Then she pulled back and hurried for the door before she went any further.
Chapter 23
It was late morning. They’d all turned in early last night, and Leah had risen with the sun, although the snowy sky had hidden it considerably. She’d worried that she would spend the night coming down from her panic, but losing Sadie had been such an ordeal that she crashed and didn’t wake at all until the morning. Sadie was still in her pajamas and had been playing with the others upstairs. Sadie hadn’t mentioned losing the plantation again, but Leah knew it would just be a matter of time and she’d want to talk about it. Louise and Roz were both getting ready for the day, but Leah had been downstairs, taking in every last minute at Evergreen Hill.
The old house was slightly drafty, the radiators working at top speed to heat the morning air but not quite warming it completely. Snow had fallen again overnight and the fields were covered in white. David seemed to be giving Leah the silence she was craving. After their initial “good morning,” he’d looked over at her quite a few times, but hadn’t spoken. He was working between his computer and fiddling with the new Wi-Fi connection, finally standing up and telling her he was running out to get a few things and that he’d pick up some groceries.
June was having a second cup of coffee in the kitchen. Samuel was reading a newspaper from earlier in the week quietly in the sitting room, and Leah thought it might be a good time to chat with him. She went upstairs and got the stack of letters.
“She kept all of them,” Samuel said in a whisper as Leah handed them to him, the ribbon from the bow that tied them together draping over his hand as he held them. In an instant, his eyes were brimming with tears. He set the bundle in his lap and folded the newspaper back up, placing it on the end table beside him. “I missed her so much when she left that I wrote her letters begging her to come back, but she didn’t respond.”
“She never wrote you back?” That wasn’t like her at all. Leah sat down on the floor beside his chair, her back to the fire, and hugged her knees casually as she waited for his explanation.
“I couldn’t find her. She’d moved. But the mail must have been forwarded to her new address for a while because I kept sending them to the old address, relentlessly, until one day they started coming back to me. I told her I loved her. When she didn’t respond, I’d occasionally send her a note asking about her, wondering where she was, if she was okay. I should’ve given up. Anyone with any dignity would’ve. But I was so worried about her, and I cared about her so much, that I just couldn’t.”
Her sweet, always happy Nan had had a secret. “She never said anything, Samuel.”
“No, she wouldn’t have. That’s why she wouldn’t see me either. She pushed all that emotion right out of her life. That was how she dealt with it.” He held up the letters. “May I keep these?”
“Of course.” Leah noticed his hands were shaking.
* * *
“I got a ton of food,” David said, interrupting them before darting into the kitchen to unpack the brown paper grocery bags he’d been bringing in. Leah was thankful he’d run out before the snow got too deep. It was coming down again. She left the conversation with Samuel apologetically, and went to help David put the groceries away, Samuel getting up and following her into the kitchen.
David was chipper now, happy, and Leah couldn’t help but wonder if it was because once the drama with Sadie was over, he’d realized that he’d won. He’d gotten Evergreen Hill, and there was nothing Leah could do about it. But she thought about the hug they’d shared after he’d found Sadie, and she didn’t really believe that could be the source of his happiness. Since when did she care about what made David happy? She pushed it out of her mind. This was about enjoying her friends and having one, final Christmas near Nan.
“On the way in, I slid a few times even in the truck. It’s still early so the ice is heavy, but I worry the weather’s getting worse.”
Leah reached into one of the bags and grabbed a ketchup bottle and a can of crushed tomatoes, setting them on the counter.
David leaned in toward her. “How’s Sadie?” he asked, so close she could feel his warmth. He was looking down at her, his face now full of concern.
She reached into the bag again, pulling out two cans of vegetables, unable to look back at him because his concern for Sadie made her want to put her hands on his face and kiss him. “She’s still low,” she said. She didn’t want to go into it right there in the kitchen. She didn’t want to tell him how the whole ordeal had taken the wind right out of her sails.
“I saw on the forecast that we’re supposed to get another five inches. That’s a record, they said. We never get snow this early,” June said as she helped David put away the refrigerator items, seemingly unaware of Leah and David’s exchange.
“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive in coming,” Samuel said. He was sitting at the kitchen table, holding one of Sadie’s crayons. She’d just brought her coloring books out and asked if he’d like to color with her, running off again to see if her friends wanted to join her. “I didn’t expect to impose like this.”
“It’s really no problem at all,” Leah said, hoping David and June felt the same. She was so glad he’d decided to come. Just having him there made her feel closer to Nan. “I’m happy you’re here.”
Samuel smiled, looking a little relieved.
“It’s perfectly fine,” David agreed. “In fact, why don’t we celebrate? We can make a big meal, put on some music?”
“Yes!” Roz piped up. She and Louise had come down, leaving the kids to play upstairs, probably just dying to hear what was going on. Leah hadn’t had a chance to tell them anything—the house was always so busy. Roz sat down at the table. Louise, ever the quiet observer, sat beside Roz, taking everything in, Leah could tell. She couldn’t wait to have some time with her friends alone.
“I’d enjoy that,” Samuel said. “Although I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”
“You’re not,” David promised. “I’ll get some music on. Let me see what Nina has in the old stereo.” He finished putting away the vegetables and left the kitchen.
After a few minutes, “Dream a Little Dream” by Louis Armstrong poured through the speakers, and, without warning, the memory of Nan dancing to it flooded her mind. Emotions hit Leah fast and hard; her beautiful fantasy of all those family moments she’d wanted to create at Evergreen Hill was gone, instead belonging to June and David, and she felt the panic about her choice to sell.
“You okay?” David asked. She only realized then that tears had surfaced. She blinked them away and saw that Louise was paying close attention—she recognized her look of concern.
“This song just takes me back.” She sat down in the kitchen chair next to Sadie, trying to play it down.
June came over and patted Leah’s leg. “Your grandmother loved old
classics. They’ve become so much a part of me now that I’d forgotten it was she who had introduced me to them. This was one of my favorites.” June was smiling, happy, that sadness in her eyes slightly lessened. Like low tide, it had receded just out of view.
Leah nodded, thinking back to the music box she and David had bought. When she was finally able to squelch the tears, she noticed Samuel. He had his hand on his face as if the music had just hit him, but he was grinning, his eyes glassy. Leah moved into his view, hoping he’d share whatever the thought was that had put such a sparkle in his eye.
“I introduced Nina to this song,” he said.
“Really?” Until that moment, Leah had always thought this song was just Nan’s. She’d never even considered that it might have been someone else’s song before that.
“We’d worked late one night. I had been working on a presentation to the faculty, and she’d helped me rehearse and tweak my lines until it was perfect. We’d worked so long that I couldn’t think straight anymore, so I went over to my old record player and put on this record.”
He leaned forward to address Leah specifically. “My office was full of all sorts of historical artifacts, but she’d always gravitated to that record player. I can still see her: she fiddled with the buttons, ran her fingers along the surface of the machine, focused as if it were telling her stories. I don’t know what came over me, but that one time, I took her hand, pulled her close, and danced with her.”
Leah wished Nan were here to tell the other side of that story. What had she felt for Samuel? What had it been like to dance with him? It seemed so romantic.
“David danced with Mama,” Sadie said quietly as she walked back into the kitchen, pulling them out of their story. “And me.”
David locked eyes with Leah, his stare and the slight grin on his lips making her feel as though all her thoughts about him were being exposed. She looked away and focused on Samuel.
Samuel turned toward David, his eyes telling him something, but his lips still. He smiled a knowing smile and then looked back at Sadie. “Dancing is fun, isn’t it?” he asked her.
Sadie nodded, when normally she’d have jumped up and done a twirl. “I love to dance,” she said.
“When faced with dancing or not, always dance,” he said, but he’d looked back at David when he said it. With Sadie safe and sound, Leah wanted to take those words to heart. She didn’t want to waste a single minute being upset or worried. Instead, she wanted to create a few more memories of this place while she could.
* * *
Sadie had pulled Samuel into the sitting room, asking to color on the coffee table so she could stay warm by the fire. Everyone else was settling in there as well, and June was just finishing tidying up the kitchen before going in. She was whistling quietly, and Leah hung back to be with her.
“I enjoy seeing you smile,” she said to June.
“I’ve smiled a lot lately,” she said. “I got up early this morning. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to start the day.”
“Oh?” Leah said, glad to hear that. She’d noticed June coming out of herself more and more, spending time with the group rather than being alone.
“When Christine died, my whole world was changed, and I didn’t know quite who I was anymore. Life didn’t mean much to me because I felt like I could work my fingers off and the life I made could still be stolen at any moment, so what was the point?” She began fixing Leah a mug of coffee without asking. “But being around you all is helping.” She poured just the right amount of cream into the coffee and stirred.
“How is it helping?”
She handed Leah her coffee and said, “Because with both Nina and Christine, I realized that the focus shouldn’t be whether my life is important or unimportant. It’s how all of our lives intertwine, and by isolating myself, I’m not allowing pieces of me to be shared and left when I’m gone. I’ve really enjoyed being around you all.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.”
“I’m excited to see Marie,” she said, her eyes big and a smile on her face that took Leah back to when she was a little girl. “Your mother and I haven’t seen each other in years. While we were very different people, we talked a lot when you kids were little.”
“I know. My mom remembers those talks too.”
“When’s she coming in?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“It’s supposed to snow again. I hope her flight isn’t delayed.”
“I know. I’m a little worried about that.” She was more than a little worried. This was her very last Christmas at Evergreen Hill and she wanted everything to be perfect. Sadie’s memories of this place had to be strong if they would carry on throughout her life. She was so young.
“While it’s under difficult circumstances, I’m glad we could all come together one last time. Do you need any help preparing food or anything for tomorrow?”
“Actually, that would be amazing, thank you.”
* * *
Samuel had agreed to take all the kids sledding for just a bit before the afternoon daylight faded into evening while The Girls prepared for tomorrow’s dinner. Sadie had said she didn’t want to go and when David had dropped down on his haunches to convince her, she’d turned away, and David looked like he’d been punched in the gut. He got up and Leah went over. “You’ll have fun,” she said, drawing Sadie close.
Sadie shook her head.
“Ethan and Jo will miss you if you don’t go.” She ruffled Sadie’s hair. “I bet they won’t dare go down that hill without someone brave to show them.”
Sadie nodded. “Okay.” She trailed out after Samuel, and Leah sighed with relief.
The kitchen was brimming with flour, sugar, pie pans, spices, vegetables, fruits—the women all working on separate dishes. June had offered to go out in the farm truck and get a few more things they’d need that David hadn’t thought of. She wanted to be sure, with the snowstorm looming, that they’d have enough wine and breakfast items.
The candles were lit, the fire roaring, and the smell of roasted sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, and Christmas sugar cookies filled the air. Leah clicked on the lights, illuminating the back woods. She couldn’t wait to show them to her family. They’d be so happy to see it.
“It smells so good in here that I can’t get my work done,” David said, entering the kitchen. Leah had hardly seen him all day. His eyes were on Roz and Louise, rather than her, and she wondered how she should handle being around him now.
“We’ve been busy,” Roz said with a sugary smile.
David nodded and then his eyes met Leah’s. When they did, he offered a careful smile and then turned back to Roz and Louise.
“What are we having tomorrow?” he asked.
As Louise was explaining her recipe for stuffing, Samuel and the kids came barreling through the door, Sadie running in front. “Mama!” she said, a smile on her face. It was the first time she’d seen Sadie smile since she’d heard the news.
“What is it?” Leah set down the kitchen towel she was holding and went over to her daughter.
“We were sledding,” Sadie said, nearly breathless, her little friends looking on. “And we heard crying. We went to the creek by the road, and there was a kitten! It’s stuck! We need to save it!”
Samuel put a hand on Sadie’s shoulder and added, “It’s stuck on a rock and the water is icy and rushing so fast because of the melting snow so it’s scared. We think it might have climbed out on a limb and fallen. I tried to get it, but I was too worried my old back would give out and I’d slip.”
“Oh no!” Leah said, thinking of a poor little kitten out in the cold.
Sadie rushed over to David. “David, will you save it?”
David smiled at her, his fondness for Sadie clear on his face, and Leah wondered if he too was glad to see her smile. He went straight over and put on his boots and coat, darting out the door. He’d saved Sadie the other night, and now he was saving her kitten. Leah grabbed the towel an
d started wiping the counters again, trying not to acknowledge her undeniable affection for him.
A few minutes went by, and they came back in, Sadie holding a mewing little ball of brown-and-white fur in her coat. “You’re soaking wet,” she said to David, as he came in behind her.
“I’m fine,” he said, winded but smiling, although he looked miserably cold. “We’ll need to check the little guy for frostbite.”
Not stopping to take care of his wet clothing, David went upstairs and got an armful of towels. Leah and Sadie took the kitten in by the fire. It seemed exhausted from its ordeal. It was wet and dirty, but its paws seemed okay. She pressed on the pads of its feet but the cat didn’t wince or anything. She checked its ears and its tail—all seemed to be fine.
As she sat in front of the fire, David wrapped the kitten in warm, dry towels.
“Is it okay?” Sadie asked as everyone gathered around.
“It’s a little girl. And she seems to be,” Leah said, shrugging off her coat and cuddling her like a baby. “You caught her just in time.”
Sadie squatted down beside her mother and put her hand on the cat’s head, stroking it gently. “Maybe she fell out of Santa’s sleigh,” Sadie said with a big smile.
“What makes you think she fell out of Santa’s sleigh?” Leah asked.
“Because she was on my list and when she was crying and we all went to her, she looked just at me.” Then, worry spread across her face. “What if he was on his way to Richmond and he didn’t know to stop here?”
“Sadie, he isn’t even flying yet. He’ll know where to come. I promise.”
“Even if he doesn’t come, I know she was meant for me. See?”
Leah looked at the kitten and saw that she had tilted her head back to view Sadie. Leah smiled, glad for the distraction for Sadie and feeling again like Nan might have had a hand in all this.
