“I’m not sure. Help me up.”
He grabbed both of her hands. She untangled her legs and, with a mighty tug, almost stood up. Bob shifted his stance and stepped on his own shoes.
“Whoops!” He landed splat beside her. They lay side by side, dazed. “How are we going to get up?”
“Maybe we live here now.” She laughed.
“Need some help?” A tall man with longish, wavy dark hair towered over them, a blonde in a ponytail on his arm.
“We were just contemplating building an igloo down here,” Marilyn said.
“Not a bad plan,” the blonde said.
Beside her, Bob sat up. “I think if you give me a steady base, I can heft myself up.” The man helped him to stand, then did the same for Marilyn.
“Let us know if you decide to build that igloo,” he said as he snowshoed away. “I may know someone in the resort business who can help.”
Marilyn had snow everywhere—down her collar, up her sleeves. She gave herself a little shake.
Bob chuckled. “You remind me of a wet dog.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, I just mean shaking yourself like that.”
Okay, she had to admit it probably did look a little funny.
“Are you okay to walk?” Bob’s brow furrowed as he spoke.
She took a few steps out onto the trail, moving like an eighty year old. Her ankle gave a twinge, but after a few steps, it felt normal again. “Nothing’s broken. I’ll probably be sore in the morning, though.”
“Do you want to take off the snowshoes?” Bob caught up with her. “Should we turn around?”
“No. Let’s finish. I’m having fun.”
Overhead, the night deepened, a purple blanket filled with stars. Marilyn took a breath. Now was the time. “Bob, we should talk.”
Beside her, Bob stiffened. “Let’s not disturb the peace of the night.”
“I’m just wondering what is on your mind. You seem so preoccupied.” She stopped and put her hand on his arm.
“Is this about me not going into that outdoor chapel?”
“Yes. Well, not just that. You’ve been distant for a while now.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. She held her breath. Then he took a few steps down the trail. “It’s no big deal. I just wasn’t feeling it tonight.”
He walked out ahead of her.
“Feeling what?” Feeling like being married? She tried to catch up, but her ankle slowed her down.
But with the cold that had slipped under the neck of her jacket, her heart shivered.
She bit back a sharp retort. She wouldn’t gain anything by starting an argument.
They moved down the path, stopped for a cup of hot cocoa at the station sponsored by the bank, passed by a group of carolers, and were passed in turn by a clump of teenagers pushing and shoving each other in jest.
“Stop it, Tiago! You’re making me nervous,” one of the kids called. The laugh in his voice belied his words.
Then they came to a table covered in Christmas cookies. The red-and-gold sign read Flashy Fox Bakery. Marilyn chose a star-shaped cookie and bit it in half.
“These cookies are amazing!” Hints of almond and orange ran through the sweet sugar confection.
“If you think these are good, you should try our cinnamon rolls,” the man behind the table said. “I’m Jim Fox and this is my wife, Elaine. Flashy Fox is our bakery.”
“I think we definitely need to try out your claim,” Bob said. “What days are you open this week?”
“We’ll be open every day except Christmas.” Elaine handed them each a business card. “Here’s the address.”
Marilyn tucked the card into her pocket. “Won’t you want to be with your family during the holiday?”
Jim and Elaine shared a sad smile. Elaine clasped her hands together. “Not this year. Our granddaughter is living in Paris, and we haven’t seen our grandsons in several years. It will be just Jim and me.”
A pang shot through Marilyn. As much as she’d looked forward to a Christmas alone with Bob, she would have missed seeing Stella. Who knew where their daughter would end up after her program in Vienna ended? She might even decide to stay in Europe indefinitely. The sweet bite in Marilyn’s mouth became as dry as sawdust.
“Thank you for the cookies,” she said.
“See you at the bakery, maybe.” Elaine smiled.
“Yeah, maybe.” She wasn’t promising anything. Best not to press her luck on getting Bob out of the cabin again.
She had to focus on her family. Getting Bob to open up to her was turning out to be like walking in snowshoes through mud.
CHAPTER 4
THURSDAY, 9:00 A.M.
So far, this vacation had been just what Bob needed. Peace, quiet, and a total absence of responsibility. Sure, the snowshoe adventure a couple nights ago had been fun, but he hadn’t felt great about his reaction to the chapel and probably Marilyn deserved to know about that.
Not yet.
And how to tell her? He didn’t have the first idea.
So, mostly, he’d hunkered down in his cabin for the last twenty-four hours finishing the one thousand-piece puzzle. He could even admit that it was probably time to talk to Marilyn about the things which were bothering him.
Maybe after breakfast.
He sat with Stella and Marilyn in the tiny cabin kitchen sharing a skillet of scrambled eggs. Hot coffee with a dash of cream filled the cup he lifted to his lips, the nutty aroma awakening his senses. Yep. He could get used to the peace of this place.
A knock at the cabin door interrupted their meal. “Romeo. How can I help you?”
Romeo was standing on the stoop. “I was…wondering if you guys would be interested in a bigger cabin. I’ve got one available, and I can help you shift your stuff into it whenever you want.”
Bob glanced inside their cozy space and at the half-finished puzzle on the table. “That’s okay. You don’t have to put yourself out for us. We’re fine here.”
He heard Marilyn get up from the table and move to stand behind him. She put her hand on his arm. “What’s all this?”
“Romeo said we can move to a bigger cabin, but I don’t think we need to. We’re already unpacked and settled in.” He gave the kid a big smile.
Romeo shifted his weight. “Actually—”
“I think we should move, Bob.” Marilyn moved into the doorway. “Thank you, Romeo. That’s very thoughtful.”
“Honey.” Bob didn’t know why his wife was acting this way. Normally she would never be one to put someone else out. “This cabin is fine for us. Why make Romeo go to all the trouble of moving things around?”
“Don’t you think Stella would like a bed of her own?”
“She’s fine on the couch. Aren’t you, Stella?”
Stella joined them at the door. “I don’t mind.”
Romeo shoved his hands into his pockets. He started to say something, but Marilyn cut him off.
“I would like a bigger cabin. Let’s take him up on it.”
What had gotten into his normally laid-back wife? “Honey, we’re fine. Romeo doesn’t need to do us this favor.”