Chapter 13

Karen woke up the next morning to the smell of a strong pot of coffee brewing.

When her eyes finally cracked open, she looked out the window at the blinding blanket of white.

It was difficult to tell just how much snow had fallen, but it was easy to see the conditions hadn’t improved much. It was cloudy and windy, and they weren’t going to get out of there — at least, not anytime soon.

She plopped her feet on the floor, and instantly, she reached for the slippers, along with her big sweater. Even with that and her sweatpants, she was freezing. She made a pit stop in the bathroom, brushing her hair and her teeth before she made her way into the kitchen, rubbing her hands together.

“Good morning, Bert,” she said, leaning a hip against the counter. “Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Good morning, Karen. Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” She walked over to the pot of coffee. “This coffee smells delicious.”

“Help yourself. Mugs are up there.” He nodded toward one of the cabinets pouring some mix in the frying pan. “There is no cream, but we have pancakes and maple syrup.”

Karen added three spoons of sugar to her coffee once it was poured, and as soon as she took the first sip, her chest warmed, and she sighed with relief. “Thank you,” she said, tilting her mug toward him.

“The tree looks great,” Bert said.

“Half of those ornaments are yours. And I even hung up your favorite wreath,” she said, pointing to the front door. “Provided, it’s on the inside when it should be on the outside, but at least we can see it this way.”

“Thank you, for decorating, Karen. The cabin looks very ... Christmassy.”

“You’re welcome.”

They sat at the table and drank their coffee in silence. Karen’s eyes found Bert’s, and there was something there that she couldn’t quite decipher — a longing, or perhaps a deep pain disguised as longing.

She couldn’t put a name to it. All she knew was that she felt it, too.

Bert took the last sip of his coffee, running his thumb over the handle for a moment. “So, what’s it like traveling?”