Whispered Prayers

by Alex Grayson

“IT’S SUCH A SHAME WHAT HAPPENED.” “They say it left him a bit… unhinged.” “Well, I can’t really say I’m surprised. I bet it would leave you a bit rattled too.” “Not to mention the scars. You know he has to remember what happened every time he sees them.” “That’s why he only comes to town once every couple of months.” “It’s such a shame, and a waste.” I put the can of cherry filling in my shopping cart and peek around the corner of the shelf. Three old ladies are at the end of the next aisle over, same position as me—sneaking around the end of their own shelves—whispering behind their hands. With the three of them in the way, I can’t see who they’re talking about. I step out further to try to get a look, but all I see is the backside of a man wearing a black-and-gray plaid shirt rounding the corner several aisles over. I shake my head, putting the whispers and my curiosity behind me. It’s not my business to know what or who they’re talking about. The last thing I want is to get caught up in rumors. I walk the aisles, glad to know this small market has all the ingredients I need for my mom’s cherry-apple pie recipe. Coming from a big city and having anything and everything just a few miles away, you’d think we’d have a hard time adjusting, but it’s been just the opposite. The town may be small, but it has all the essentials we need to live. Simple is why we moved here. Simple is what we need. Simple is hopefully what will make us all happy again. And the people have been ab...

“That’s going to be $68.17,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. I whip my purse up on the belt and dig around inside for my wallet. I slide my phone, a package of tissues, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, and a nail grooming case to the side, but can’t find the darn thing. I grimace when I remember I left it on the counter at home when I paid my phone bill earlier this morning. “Damn it,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry, Jeremy. My wallet is still on the counter at home. Can I leave and come right back with it?” “That’s fine. I’ll just push your cart to the side and⁠—” “Tack it on to mine,” a deep voice says from behind me. I look at Jeremy, shocked by the generous offer. He’s not looking at me though, but at the person standing behind me. I turn to thank the stranger, but the words get stuck in my throat as soon as I see him. He’s the man the old ladies were talking about. I know it from the shirt he’s wearing. He doesn’t look at me as he puts his items on the belt. All I can see is the left side of his face. He has dark brown hair, slightly longer on the top, and his lower face is covered with bristly hair. It’s not long, but definitely longer than just a few days’ worth of growth. He has to be over six feet, and I can tell by the bulges in his forearms that he’s ripped with muscles. I feel so tiny compared to him. I turn to Jeremy, who looks just as surprised as me, then back to the man. “I appreciate the offer, but you don’t need to do that, Mr.…” I trail off, hoping he’ll...

This is the second snowfall since we’ve been here. Although we’re used to the snow, I’ve heard that winters here in Colorado can be quite harsh. Much different than Indianapolis. I come to a stop and lift the hatch on the back of my Range Rover. I’m putting in the last bag when something has me lifting my head and looking to the side. I watch as the scarred man walks his own cart over to an older model blue pickup truck. He stops, deposits the bags in the back, throws a tarp over them, then pushes the cart back to the front of the store. Although I know he has to feel my eyes on him, he doesn’t look my way. I’m stuck in place as he gets inside his truck, pulls out of the space, and takes off down the road. It's none of my business, of course, but I can’t help the curiosity that plagues me as I watch him turn the corner out of sight. What happened to him? Is what one of the old ladies said true? Is he unhinged? What memories were they talking about? I wipe the thoughts away and climb inside my warm truck. Stop it, Gwen, I scold myself. It’s not your business. You have your own life you have to worry about. Starting my truck, I pull away from the market and head back to Mrs. Tanner’s house and my two kids.

“Hey, sweetie.” I bend and place a kiss on top of Kelsey’s head. She looks up at me and offers me a small smile with sad eyes, then continues her crossword puzzle. For being only eight years old, she’s extremely good at them. Whereas Daniel is open and talkative, Kelsey is the complete opposite. Unfortunately, her low-key response is normal for her. She’s very reserved and quiet. For a little over two years, since her father died, she’s only ever spoken twice. Once was when she begged me to bring Will back at his funeral, and the other time was a year ago when I had the flu. She quietly asked me if I was going to die as well. It broke my heart when those words left her lips. Not only because of what she asked, but also because I had prayed so hard for her to get better, for her to feel comfortable enough to talk again, for God to bring my little girl back, and when she finally spoke, her voice was more beautiful than I had remembered. I couldn’t enjoy it though, because I knew she was terrified she was going to lose another parent. Although she’s only spoken to me those two times, I still hear her every night when she thinks only God is listening. One day, three weeks after Will’s funeral, I was walking by her room when I heard something. I was about to go in and check on her, when her soft words stopped me. Peeking in through the small crack, I saw my little girl kneeling in the middle of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in prayer and her eyes closed. Her whispers, begg...

I love both my children more than anything in the world. I loved my husband too. It’s been a little over two years that he’s been gone, and every day I grieve for him. I grieve because I lost the man I love, I grieve for my children who will never grow to know him more than they already do, and I grieve for my husband, who will never see his children grow up. We moved to Colorado because I felt we needed a change. Although I was taking them away from the place they were born and where memories of their father were, I still felt they needed a new setting, a new start. Kelsey wasn’t getting better, and my own grief was debilitating. It wasn’t healthy for any of us. Daniel still remembers his father and misses him, but he was so young at the time, he wasn’t as affected by his death as Kelsey and I were and still are. That’s both a blessing and a curse for Daniel. While I’m glad his pain isn’t as harsh as mine and Kelsey’s, it still hurts to know that his memories of Will will more than likely fade away over time, until there’s nothing left except for what I tell him, and pictures.

“Would you like a cup of coffee before you leave, dear?” Mrs. Tanner asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. I brush my hands down Kelsey’s hair and smile over at Mrs. Tanner. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ve got groceries in the truck. They’ll probably be fine, but I want to get started on Mrs. Myers’ pie that I’m taking out to her tomorrow.” She pulls something from the fridge and sets it on the stove before turning back to me. “You best be careful going out tomorrow, Gwen. They say there’s a snowstorm coming in tomorrow afternoon,” she informs me. I watch as Kelsey puts down an answer on the crossword puzzle. It’s a word I can’t even pronounce, let alone know the meaning. She may not talk, and keeps to herself, but that hasn’t stopped her from being one of the smartest kids I’ve ever encountered. She’s always been that way though, even before Will passed away. “I’ll be careful. I plan on going over early in the morning. We’ll be back before the storm hits.” I turn to Daniel. “Hey, kiddo, go make sure you have everything in your bag.” “Okay, Mom.” He gets up from the table with the picture and carries it over to the fridge, where he hangs it by a rectangular magnet. Stepping b...

Any plans for the holidays yet?” Mrs. Tanner asks. I put the cups in the dishwasher, then walk over to gather Daniel’s crayons. “Nope. I think we’re going to just stay here. Will’s parents are in California with their daughter, Sophia, for Christmas, and, well… both my parents are gone.” Her smile turns sad as she walks over to me and lays a hand on my arm. “Why don’t you three come here for Christmas dinner? My two kids, Kenneth and Bethany, will be here with both their families for a few days. Sara is Kelsey’s age and Cody is Daniel’s. Might be nice for them to have kids their age to hang out with.” I look down and flip the lid closed on the crayon box. It’s the holidays that are always the hardest. This will be the third Christmas we’ll have without Will. It was always his favorite holiday, so it was a big deal for our family. The house, inside and out, was always decorated to the max. All the shelves were filled with nativity scenes, all the doorways had lights and garland, the tree was loaded with ornaments. Per Will’s request, and much to the kids’ delight, we always had some type of Christmas snack the whole month of December. Christmas Eve everyone got a pajama set and got to open one Christmas present to tide us over until the next morning. It was our tradition. I’ve tried to stick with that tradition, to bring the holiday to life for the kids, but it’s just not the same without him. I look back up at Mrs. Tanner and offer a smile. Maybe being with more people wil...

I squat down beside Kelsey. “Hey, honey. You ready to go? You can help me make Mrs. Myers’ pie if you want when we get home.” She looks at me, and I want to cry when her lips stay closed. She gives me a small nod, but that’s all. I know she’ll help with the pie. She’s a very good child, always doing what I ask without complaint. Sometimes I wish she would throw a tantrum. At least she would be showing some form of emotion. But then I feel terrible for thinking that way, because no matter how Kelsey acts, she’ll always be perfect in my eyes. I lean over and kiss her cheek before standing. She immediately gets up, her crossword book in hand, and stands beside me. I reach out and grab her hand. It may be odd for a mother to want to hold their eight-year-old daughter’s hand when they are simply walking to the truck, but I steal as much attention as I can from Kelsey, and that includes holding her hand, kissing her head or cheek, hugging her as often as I can—anything I can get. I’m deprived of her voice, if I can help it, I won’t be deprived of anything else. I thank Ruth once more as she holds the door open for us, promising to stop by in the next few days to have dinner.

Gigi, my black lab mix, trots behind me to the kitchen. Once I set the bags down, I pat the top of her jet-black head. “Hey, girl. How’re the pups?” I ask as she walks beside me into the kitchen. Knowing what she’s looking for, I grab a can of dog food from the pantry, pull the tab, and pour the chunky meat into her bowl. She runs ahead of me as I carry the bowl to the door leading to the huge utility room where her pups are. She slips through the doggy door right before I pull the door open. She immediately goes to check on her sleeping pups in the big dog bed across the room, sniffing them and nudging them with her nose, then comes back as I’m setting the bowl down. She gives it a quick sniff, checking the smell of dinner, before diving in. “Let me know when you’re ready to go out, girl,” I tell her. She doesn’t acknowledge me, just continues to devour her food like she’s starving, when she just ate a few hours ago. Her pups are taking all her nutrients and leaving her with hardly any. I run my fingers through her hair a couple times, before walking back out of the room and closing the door behind me.

As Gigi and I walk across the yard to the barn, I make sure to keep my eyes forward and not look at the half-built house. It’s been sitting there abandoned for four years. I’ve been meaning to tear the thing down, but I just can’t yet. It hurts to look at it, but the pain at the thought of destroying it is much worse. I’ve been trying to build up the courage; I just don’t have enough yet. Gigi barks and takes off in front of me. I chuckle as she chases a rabbit. It must sense the bad weather that’s coming and is out foraging for food before being forced to stay in its hole. The rabbit takes off with Gigi after it. She stops after several feet, does her business, then takes off in another direction.

Bandit, the male Arabian I’ve been working at breaking in, snorts at me as I walk by. I flip him off because I’m pissed at him right now. My damn backside still hurts from him throwing me yesterday. “Don’t you snort at me, you big bastard,” I say, baring my teeth with a forced smile. Horses may seem like mindless animals to some, but they’re actually pretty smart. They’re very watchful creatures and can sense moods. Bandit’s been one of the most stubborn horses I’ve come across since I started training them eight years ago. Ordinarily, it takes me anywhere from three to eight weeks to train the horses that are brought here, but Bandit’s being ornery and doesn’t take kindly to someone being on his back. Hell, he doesn’t even like it if someone looks at him. I’ve had him for nine weeks already and have gotten hardly anywhere with him. He’s solid black, a very pretty horse, but very moody. He’s also purebred and cost the owners a fortune, which means they’re being very patient. However, I don’t see that lasting much longer if I don’t make any more headway with him. I grab a couple of apples out of a basket, stuff one in my back pocket, then approach the white-and-brown mustang. Bella came to me three years ago to be trained. A few weeks into training, the young girl the owners bought her for fell from another horse and broke her neck. She’s now paralyzed from the neck down. Understandably, they no longer needed Bella to be trained for their daughter, so I bought her from them...

After checking on the chicken on the stove, I make quick work of the buttons of my shirt as I walk down the hallway to my bedroom. This cabin may be small to some people, but it’s perfect for me. Once upon a time, I had plans to build a big house and fill it with laughter, but not any longer. That ship has sailed, crashed, burned, then sunk. I toss my shirt on the floor in front of my dresser, then take off my pants, leaving them in the same pile. In the bathroom, I turn on the shower to let it warm up. Turning away, I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. Normally I try to stay away from mirrors. Not because the scars are hideous and I hate looking at them, but because of the memories that come with seeing them. I don’t turn away this time. I stand there and force myself to look at them, and the memories immediately assault me. A woman’s laughter and soft smiles. The screech of tires. High-pitched screams of fear. Deep screams of pain. Innocent wails, then silence. My own pain gripping me. My vision fading to black as my life dies before me. I look at the snarled and twisted skin on my arm and side. I was awake when the heat of the flames hit me. I was conscious when my flesh started to melt. But that’s not what I remember when I see my scars. What I remember is what I almost had. I remember not being strong enough to save them. I remember the screams and the broken pleas. I grip the sink in front of me and hunch over, dropping my head, no longer able to look at mys...

While the pot of rice is cooking, I chop up the cooked chicken, then throw it in the pot. I make both Gigi and myself a bowl and set hers on the floor in the kitchen. I carry mine into the living room, where I catch the last quarter of the Broncos game. After, I put the leftovers away. That’s another good thing about chicken and rice. Leftovers. I let Gigi out once more and throw a couple logs in the fireplace before locking up the house. It’s only nine thirty, but I’m exhausted from the extra work I’ve done today. I take off my jogging pants and put them on the end of the bed, and stretch out naked on the bed, my hands going behind my head. An unbidden image of the woman from the grocery store comes to mind. Gwen. She had hair the color of brown sugar and eyes the color of a cloudless sky. Had I been a normal man, I would have admired her beauty, but I’m not normal and beautiful women are wasted on me. I have no fucking idea why I offered to pay for her groceries. I told her I couldn’t wait for Jeremy to cancel the order, but it was a lie. It wouldn’t have taken him more than a minute or two. Actually, I do know why I did what I did. I saw some of the items that were rung up and overheard parts of her and Jeremy’s conversation. She has kids. The thought of her dragging her kids out in this weather didn’t sit well with me. They should be warm and safe in their home. I wasn’t trying to be rude or an ass when she asked for my name, but I have no desire to be her friend. I ju...

The next morning, I wake to fat snowflakes falling. It’s not bad yet, but in the distance I can see the dark snow clouds heading this way. The forecast said to expect at least a foot later today and another couple of feet over the next few days. Most people dread the heavy snowfall, but not me. I love Colorado weather, especially the winters when the snow will come down for days. It may be cold as shit, but it’s still beautiful to be around. I like the thought of having a nice warm house to go to after work, walking in and smelling the logs burning in the fire.

Gigi’s waiting at the door to be let out. While I wait on her to finish her business, I make a pot of coffee and stir the fireplace back to life and throw on a couple more logs. I stomp my boots on and walk out back to grab an armful of logs from the back porch. Everything is covered in white, and it looks gorgeous. I’ve lived in Colorado my entire life, and I never get tired of looking at a freshly dumped snowfall. Gigi comes bounding around the corner, her coat covered in snow. She stops just long enough to root her nose in the snow until it disappears, then flicks her head up, throwing snow in the air. I whistle and she makes a mad dash for the porch, stopping once she’s on the steps to shake. “Get your goofy ass in the house.” I chuckle and snap my fingers.

I’m just pouring a cup when my phone rings. I snatch it off the counter, then groan when I see my mom’s name. My mother is a good, loving woman, but there are times I just can’t handle her. She worries, and I love that about her; I just wish she’d know when to leave shit alone. I know she means well, she’s a mother after all, but her asking how I’m doing every time we talk, knowing she’s referring to my emotional state, isn’t something I want or need. All it does is remind me of what I try so fucking hard to forget. It’s bad enough I see them every time I look in the mirror, I don’t need them thrown in my face. For almost a year after the accident, she hovered over me like a mother hen. It’s just me and my younger sister, so when one of her kids is hurting, I know she hurts as well. Dad had to finally drag her out of my house when he saw she wasn’t helping at all, but hindering my mental healing. Before the accident, they were supposed to move to Tennessee where my sister Christa lives, but the accident put the move on hold. Luckily, after realizing what my mother was doing, my father eventually convinced her to go forward with the move. I miss my family, but I’m glad they aren’t so close anymore. I hit Ignore and set the phone back down on the counter. I know I’m being a dick, and I do feel guilty, but I just can’t talk to her right now. I’ll call her back later or something.

My cabin doesn’t have central heat and air, so I depend on the fireplace for all the heat. I like it that way. Once I’m done, I refill my coffee and head outside to sit on the porch. It’s fucking freezing outside, but it’s beautiful and peaceful. I sit on the wicker chair with my feet up on the railing and look out over the field of white and the snow-covered mountains. I inherited this place from my grandparents ten years ago. My grandfather used to breed horses for a living, before he got too old. I’d come over every day after school when I was younger and help him around the place. My grandma passed away twelve years ago, and my grandfather was never the same. He always told me the place was mine once he was gone. He knew of my desire to work with horses.

snow is coming down in huge flakes now and it’s halfway up the tires of my truck. Something catches my attention, and I try to focus on it. My feet clunk to the porch, and I get up from my seat. Walking to the railing, I squint. Something’s off in the distance, but I can’t tell what it is with the heavy snowfall. I set my mug down on the railing and walk off the porch. I’ve gotten about fifty yards when I realize it’s a vehicle. “Sonofabitch,” I mutter. This is the only road out this way for miles. The vehicle looks to be at an angle, indicating they’re more than likely stuck in a ditch. I’m half tempted to leave them out there—it’s fucking stupid to be out driving in this weather—but with how fast the snow is coming down and the dropping temperatures, they’ll likely freeze to death. I stomp back to the house, cursing under my breath the entire way. Helping some idiot is the last thing I want to be doing right now. I like my solitude out here, and except for the people I have to deal with regarding the horses I train, I try to avoid them as much as possible. I swipe my keys from the hook just inside the door and grab a bigger coat from the closet, along with some thick gloves. “Stay here. I’ll be back,” I tell Gigi, who’s sitting at the door watching me. I start the truck to let it warm up while I brush snow off the windshield and windows, then put the chains on my tires. Living in this area, it’s pretty much required you have four-wheel drive, or you better bet your ass s...

I make sure both kids are bundled up tight before saying goodbye to Mrs. Myers. When I pull open the door, I’m shocked to see how much snow is on the ground and how hard it’s still coming down. When we got here a couple hours ago, there was only about six to eight inches on the ground. Now, my truck has a layer of snow at least four or five inches thick. The heavy snowfall wasn’t supposed to start until later this afternoon. “Oh dear,” Mrs. Myers says beside me. “I’m so sorry for keeping you so long. Will you be okay driving in this?” I turn to look at both kids, not liking the idea, but knowing I’ll have to in order to get home. “Yeah. I’ve got a four-wheel drive, and I’ve driven in snow before.” She looks worried as she twists her hands together, and I reach over and grab them. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” I offer a smile. “Make sure you call me once you get home, or I’ll worry.” “Will do.”

I’m used to driving in the snow, but it still makes me nervous, especially when it’s coming down so thick. The roads are covered, so I ride down the middle since the lines are no longer visible anyway. I drive slow and grip the steering wheel tightly. When we come across the stretch of road that declines for two miles, I become anxious. Luckily, we make it down the hill without any problems. The relief doesn’t last long though. We’ve been driving for about twenty minutes and are coming around a curve when all of a sudden, something about the size of a dog with a gray fluffy tail runs across the road. I know better than to do it in this type of weather, and I realize my mistake right away, but my first reaction is to hit the brakes to avoid hitting the animal. The back end of my truck fishtails around until we’re almost sliding sideways down the road. I vaguely hear Daniel yelling, but I’m concentrating on trying to straighten out the truck It’s a fruitless effort, as seconds later, we come to a jerky stop with the front end in a shallow ditch. I immediately turn to the kids. “Are you both okay?” I ask, looking over Daniel, who’s shaken but otherwise unharmed. My eyes go to Kelsey next and see no visible injuries. Her eyes are wide with fright and the look makes me sick to my stomach. “Kelsey?” Her gaze swings to mine. I reach back and grab her shaking hand. “Are you okay, baby?” She doesn’t respond right away, just looks around wildly, and fear spikes through me. Finally, ...

I turn the key, hoping by some miracle I can get us out of here. My truck may be four-wheel drive, but I highly doubt I’ll be able to back us out of the position we’re in. We’re at too much of an angle and the snow is too thick. It’s worth a shot, though. I silently curse when it won’t even turn over. I pull my phone from my purse to call Jeremy, and panic sets in when I find I have no signal. I look up when the interior of the truck starts to dim. The snow is covering the windshield fast, and I can already feel the temperature dropping. I look back at the kids. “Keep on your jackets, hats, and gloves. I’m going to step outside a minute, okay?” “I’m scared, Mom,” Daniel says. He’s always been my strong boy, so for him to show fear now means he’s really scared. I get up on my knees and lean over the seat. Grabbing his cheeks, I make him look at me. “Listen to me. Everything is okay. I’m just going to step outside for a minute. I’m not getting a signal on my phone inside the truck because of the snow covering it. I’m going to call Jeremy and he’ll come help us.” He looks at me for several seconds, then he nods. I lean over more and kiss his forehead. I move to Kelsey next. She still looks frightened. “Watch over your brother while I’m outside, okay?” She nods, and I kiss her forehead as well. Sitting back in the front seat, I pull my gloves and hat back on. It won’t do much good without the engine going, and the heat won’t last long, but I turn the key in the ignition and wa...

It’s warmer than it is outside, but when I turn to face the kids, they already have puffs of white coming out of their mouths when they breathe. I kill the engine; the air coming out of the vents is no longer warm in the slightest. “Mom,” Daniel says, his voice quivering. “What are we going to do?” I take a minute to answer him, because… well, I have no damn clue what I’m going to do. Obviously I can’t tell the kids that though. I’m the adult, and am supposed to have plans for everything. Helplessness and fear slither in when I realize how dire our situation is. This stretch of road is long and a good distance away from town. The few times I’ve been out this way, I’ve only seen a couple of cars, and the chance of one driving by now in this weather is pretty damn slim. What in the hell am I going to do? Think, Gwen! “Mom?” I look back at Daniel and force a smile. I need time to figure out a plan. “For now, you and your sister are going to come up front with me.” I point to the back. “Grab the blanket in the back and climb up here.” They both unbuckle, and while Daniel grabs the blanket, Kelsey climbs over the seat. I lift the console once Daniel has climbed up front as well. He sits in the middle, while Kelsey sits on the other side of him. “Scoot closer together.” They do so, and I put the blanket over all three of our laps. I always have a blanket in the back of my Range Rover. It stems from growing up in the north. My parents always told me it’s never a bad thing to be p...

I jump when I hear a loud thump on the window. When I look over some of the snow has slid off the window, and I see someone standing there. Both relief and fear mix together at seeing the person. On one hand, I’m relieved that someone has already found us and we won’t freeze to death, but on the other, I have no idea who it is. For all I know, it could be a serial killer. I don’t really have a choice though. It’s either take the chance and hope I’m not putting my kids in even more danger by opening the door, or ignore the person and hope someone else will find us before we freeze. I opt for decision number one, because the chances of a serial killer looking for victims outside in this weather are low. I look back at the kids. “See, I told you.” I smile. I take a deep breath, say a silent prayer, and turn the key so I can power down the window a few inches. Wind and snow immediately hit me in the face, and I have to blink a few times to clear my vision. When I do, I’m surprised at who I see. It’s the man from the market yesterday. His head is covered in a beanie and the way he’s holding his face against the wind hides the scarred side. “Hi. Thank you so much for stopping.” He ben...

“Thank you for the ride. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” A grunt is all I get in return as he puts the truck in gear and slowly starts to creep forward. I fold my hands on top of my purse and look straight out the windshield. I hate the silence, but I’m not going to force the guy to talk if he doesn’t want to. He may not want to accept my gratitude, but this is the second time he’s come to my rescue, and I’m grateful. Something tugs on my jacket, and I look down to Daniel. He pulls me across Kelsey and tries to whisper, but it’s still loud enough for the man to hear. “What’s wrong with his face, Mom?” “Daniel,” I scold, and look up at the man in embarrassment. I know he had to have heard the question, but he shows no sign that he did. “You don’t ask questions like that.” “Sorry,” he mutters sullenly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s alright,” the man says, keeping his eyes forward and his expression neutral. “No, it’s not. It’s rude and he shouldn’t have asked it, especially loud enough for you to hear.” “He’s just curious. At least he’s honest about his curiosity.” I sit back and think about his statement, remembering back to the old ladies in the market yesterday. From what they said, he doesn’t come to town a lot, so I’m sure when he does, the gossip and whispers start anew. I can’t imagine everything I’m sure he’s overheard. No matter how quiet people are with their opinions and remarks, it’ll still always get back to the recipient of their chatter, especially...

“Something ran out in front of us. I know better than to slam on the brakes in the snow, but I did it to avoid the animal before I realized what I was doing.” “Probably a fox. We get them out here a lot during the winter.” “Mom.” Another tug on my jacket has me looking down at Daniel again. “I gotta go pee.” I look over at the man, then back at Daniel. “Can you wait a bit longer? We have to go slower than normal, but we’ll be there soon.” All of a sudden, the truck stops, and the man lets out a deep sigh. I’m just about to tell him that Daniel will be fine until we get to town when he climbs from the truck. I look out the windshield and realize he didn’t stop for Daniel, but because a tree’s fallen across the road, blocking our path. The man walks to the tree, looks at it for a moment, then comes back to the truck. He hammers his hand on the steering wheel once, mutters a curse under his breath, then looks over at me and mumbles an apology for cursing in front of the kids. “I can’t move it and that’s the only road that leads to town, unless we want to go up the mountain and around, which will take hours in this weather, and there’s no guarantee we’ll make it.” I look from the tree in the road to him, then down to the kids and back to the tree. I talk to the windshield when I say, “I’m sorry.” I bring my eyes to him. “Do you know Mrs. Myers? Could you take us to her place, and I’ll call someone in town when the roads clear up and the tree’s gone?” His stormy eyes face me. “...

we turn down what I assume is his driveway. The snow is still coming down heavily, so it’s hard to see what we’re driving toward. Everyone stays silent as we slowly creep along, until we pull up to a small cabin. And a cabin is definitely what it is. He pulls to a stop, shuts off the engine, then opens his door. I follow suit and get out of the truck, then turn to help the kids down. As we walk to the porch, I take stock of the cabin. It’s rustic and well-used, but looks properly maintained. We follow Alexander up the steps, and I notice two wicker chairs and a small table between them. On the railing, there’s a coffee mug. He notices it at the same time I do and picks it up. “I was out here drinking coffee when I noticed your truck,” he explains. I turn and look out over the yard toward where I know my Range Rover is. I can barely see anything but a little red blip off in the distance. My eyes slide to the left, and I see a big red barn about fifty feet away. Then they land on a partially built structure. When I turn back around, Alexander is already gone and the door is standing wide open. I walk the kids across the threshold, then close the door behind us.

we go back to the living room to the couch. “You both sit while I go talk to Mr. Alexander.” He’s still standing at the stove when I walk into the kitchen. Steam rises from the pot he’s stirring. “I want to thank you again for helping us,” I say. “Hopefully the roads will be clear enough tomorrow so my truck can be pulled out and we can get out of your hair.” “They won’t.” He leaves the stove and grabs three mugs out of the cabinet to the left. “What do you mean, they won’t? How could you know?” He starts pouring the contents of the pot into the mugs before turning to face me. His scars stand out in the light of the room. They’re harsh, but oddly beautiful. “Because I’ve lived here my whole life. They don’t move fast around here. It’ll be at least two or three days before the road is clear enough to pull your truck out and for them to move the tree.” He grabs two of the mugs and sets them down on the bar, then hands me one. “Hot cocoa. Figured you and the kids could use some to warm up.” Before I get a chance to respond with a thank-you, he leaves the kitchen. I turn and watch as he walks out the front door without a backward glance. I look down at the mug in my hand, then at the ones on the bar. The man is a contradiction. At the market yesterday I got the feeling he’s not a very friendly person. I got the same vibe in the truck, but then he’s thoughtful enough to make my kids and me hot cocoa because he thought we may need to warm up. It was very kind of him, and I can’t...

Worry starts to set in when I realize that we’re stuck here for God knows how long. From the rumors in town and his behavior so far, I don’t take Alexander for being a people person. I’m sure having a strange woman and her two kids thrust upon him isn’t something he’s looking forward to. I look down at the kids. I hate to impose on him, but it’s not like we have a choice in the matter. Staying in our car until the roads are clear enough for someone to help isn’t a choice. We’d freeze out there. My thoughts are interrupted when I feel something bump my leg. Looking down, I’m startled to see a pair of green eyes looking up at me. It’s a medium-sized dog with longish black hair, sitting on its haunches with its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth. I almost laugh at the comical look. “Hey,” I say calmly. When Daniel makes a move to get up to see what I’m talking to, I tell him, “You stay there.” He whines, but stays put. I need to make sure this dog is safe before I allow my son to come near it. I squat and hold out my hand and the dog immediately comes over and licks it. Its tail is wagging as it butts my hand with its head. “Hmm… are you a boy or a girl?” It doesn’t take long to figure out it’s a girl, as she flops to her back, then rolls over, showing off her swollen teats. “You’ve just had puppies,” I murmur, rubbing along the side of her belly. I laugh when she wiggles her back around, almost splitting herself in half sideways. I look over when Daniel walks up beside...

WHEN I PULL OPEN the door an hour later, both pain and longing stop me in my tracks. Laughter rings through the cabin, both childish and feminine, something these walls haven’t heard in years. Still gripping the doorknob, I track the sound and find Gwen and her son on the floor in the living room with Gigi. Her daughter is on the couch watching them with a blank face. I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something not right about the young girl. She seems too quiet and withdrawn for a girl her age. Gwen looks up at me and her grin falls away. I don’t know why, but for some reason that bothers me. I don’t say anything as I close the door, take off my jacket, and hang it up before walking to the kitchen. My nose picks up a smell, and I see something boiling in a pot on the stove. I frown, not sure if I like the woman going through my cabinets and fridge, then I feel like an ass because they obviously need to eat. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says from behind me. “I’m making potato soup. I didn’t want to plunder too much in your cabinets. I found the potatoes on the counter.” I turn and face her. “It’s fine. Cook whatever you want.” She nods. “I didn’t say it earlier, but thank you for the cocoa. It was thoughtful of you.” I turn from her and go to the sink to wash away the dirt on my hands from hanging out in the barn. “It was no problem,” I throw over my shoulder. She steps further into the kitchen and leans against the bar, her hands resting beside her hips. “I always get ...

As I pass by the living room, the little boy stops playing with Gigi and looks up at me, his smile disappearing as his eyes go to the right side of my face. I’m used to the looks, so they don’t bother me anymore. When he asked what was wrong in the truck, it was no shock to me. It was actually refreshing to have someone say their thoughts out loud. The people in town, the ones I used to be friends with, always keep their concerns and thoughts to themselves or whisper behind their hands, worried they may offend me or some shit. I grew up in these parts, but the people seem like strangers to me now. Gigi leaves the boy’s side and trots over to me. I pat her head when she puts her front paws on my lower stomach. “Hey, girl. You havin’ fun?” Her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth is my answer. She jumps down, and instead of going back to the boy, she takes off for the kitchen and the doggy door separating her from her pups. I catch sight of Gwen standing at the bar looking at me. Her eyes drop when she notices I’ve caught her staring. I turn on my heel and walk down the short hallway, anxious to get away for a few minutes. I take a hot shower and push away the weird feeling of having strangers in my house.

I emerge from my bedroom dressed in jeans, a green thermal shirt, and bare feet. The TV is on when I walk out into the living room. The boy is sitting on the floor leaning against the couch, watching a bunch of meerkats run around on the screen, while the girl has her head bent over a book she’s writing in. A pang hits me square in the chest at the sight. Once upon a time I wanted this scene to be my reality, and while this is reality, it’s not my reality. It’s fake, it’s someone else’s. It’s the woman’s who’s in the kitchen cooking something on my stove. Seeing the fire has dwindled down, I walk over, crouch, and throw a couple small logs into the fireplace. Standing, I walk into the kitchen. Gwen is scooping the potato soup into bowls. When she hears my approach, she turns with a smile on her face. “What’s that smell?” I ask. She grabs one of the bowls and hands it to me. “Sugar cookies.” I nod and dip my spoon into the soup, bringing a chunk of potato to my mouth. She watches me eat for a moment before grabbing the other bowls and setting them on the bar. “This is good,” I mumble around a mouthful. “Thank you.” She fidgets for a minute. “I feel strange being in your kitchen. ...

“What are your kids’ names?” Handing me a glass, she takes the cups over to the bar and sets them down beside the bowls. “Daniel and Kelsey.” She calls the kids, and the boy, Daniel, rushes and takes his seat, wasting no time in digging in to his food. Kelsey comes at a more sedate pace. I watch with interest as she sets the book down on the bar—I can now see it’s a crossword puzzle book—sits on the stool, and starts eating. Her eyes don’t show any emotion at all as she stares down at her food, just disinterest. This girl is holding something deep inside her, it’s there in her eyes. I just don’t know what it is. I lean back against the counter across from them as Gwen picks up her own bowl and starts eating. Minutes later, the stove’s timer goes off and she sets her bowl down to take a tray of cookies out of the oven. The smell is stronger once they’re sitting on the stove, and although I’m currently eating, my stomach still rumbles. I haven’t had homemade cookies in years, and these look and smell really fucking good. “Hey, mister,” Daniel says, and I turn my head to regard him. “What’s your dog’s name?” “Gigi.” “What kind of dog is she?” I lay my empty bowl in the sink, then turn back around. “She’s a Lab mix.” “What does a Lab mix mean?” He scoops up some soup and puts the spoon to his mouth. “It means part of her breed is Labrador.” “What other part is she?” This kid is just full of questions. I look over at Gwen, who’s taking the cookies off the cookie sheet and setti...

I’m just about to get up when Gigi comes around the couch, a small fur ball hanging from her mouth. She stops in front of Daniel and gently lays the pup on the floor. “A puppy!” he squeals, sliding from the couch onto his knees on the floor. Gigi nudges the puppy with her nose and Daniel leans way over until his nose is almost touching the floor and pets the pup on the head. Obviously Gigi feels comfortable enough to bring her babies around Daniel. His smile is miles long as he plays with the pup. Gigi gets up and ambles off, only to return a minute later with another puppy. “How many does she have?” Daniel asks after Gigi leaves for the fifth time. “Seven.” “Wow!” “How old are they?” a feminine voice asks. I look up and see Gwen standing behind the couch watching her son play with the pups, a smile curving her lips. “Four weeks,” I answer. My eyes land on Kelsey. She still has her head bent to her book, but the hand holding the pencil isn’t moving, and I see her eyes flicker to the floor every few seconds. It’s clear she’s interested in the puppies, and I’m confused as to why she doesn’t just go visit them with her brother. “You can go play with them,” I tell her quietly. She lifts her head, and a spark of excitement lights her face before she quickly wipes it away. Before she drops her head back down, something flashes in her eyes, and the force of the emotion hits me square in the chest. It’s a look I’ve seen reflected back at me for the past four years. I get up from t...

“Don’t apologize for your pain. Never be sorry for something like that.”

I turn away from her, not wanting her gratitude for something so significant. I look out the window and am surprised to see the sun already setting. I look over when Gwen moves away from me. “Wait,” I call, and she turns back. “I’m sorry for your loss. And Kelsey....” I pause and she waits. “She’ll be okay.” I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell her that, but I do. It’s clear Gwen still suffers from the loss of her husband, but the pain of losing part of a child is so much more. “I know,” she says quietly before turning and leaving.

I release a breath, push away from the sink, and walk back out into the living room. Daniel, who’s still on the floor, has his head down beside one of the puppies, his eyes barely staying open. Kelsey still has her head stuck in the puzzle book. She must have carried it with her from their truck. It looks well-worn, with the pages curled, indicating she uses it a lot. I look over at Gwen sitting beside her. “You three can have my bed.” My suggestion surprises her and she gets up from the couch. “Alexander, we can’t take your bed.” Hearing her say my name does something to me. That’s the third time she’s said it. It still sounds foreign coming from someone other than my family, but it’s nice. “Yes, you can. There’s three of you. You can’t all fit on the couch.” “The kids can have the couch. If you have extra blankets, I can sleep on the floor.” I give her a look that says she’s stupid if she thinks I’m going to let her sleep on the hard floor. I may be out of practice dealing with people, but I’m not so far gone that I’ll allow something like that. “That’s not happening, Gwen.” It’s not until she looks at me strangely that I realize that’s the first time I’ve said her name out loud. I wonder if she got the same weird feeling I get when she says my name. She looks down at the couch, then back at me. “But you won’t fit on the couch. Your feet will hang off the edge.” “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept on worse, and it’s only for a few days.” She bites her lip as she thinks it over. I ...

I’m not sure why, but I feel a connection with Kelsey. I know how deep her pain runs. I know exactly what she’s going through. I know the feeling of wanting to block people out, to push people away. The pain that grips you so tight it feels like you’re suffocating. That no matter what you do, things will never be good again. And you’ll do almost anything to bring back the person you lost.

I OPEN MY EYES AND see a pair of gorgeous green ones staring back at me. I hold my breath and bask in the attention Kelsey is giving me by simply looking at me. To anyone else, it may be a small thing, but coming from her, it’s everything. Kelsey doesn’t look at people unless she has to. I think it’s because she’s worried her pain may shine through enough for people to see. I miss looking into my daughter’s eyes. They are the prettiest green I’ve ever seen. I feel a twitch on my hand and out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand lying in the palm of mine. My hand is palm up, so she placed her hand in mine. This lightens the pain in my heart. I push back the threatening tears and just lie there for several minutes, staring at her. She doesn’t move her eyes from mine and gives no other sign of how she’s feeling. “Hey, beautiful,” I whisper, and smile softly at her. Her eyes flicker back and forth between mine, but she stays unmoving. Gently, so as to not startle her, I reach up and lay my hand against her soft cheek. My love for her and my motherly instincts have me wanting to pull her forward into my arms to simply hold her.

Every night while she prays for God to bring her dad back, I pray that he’ll bring my daughter back.

Her hand moves in mine, and I wrap my fingers around hers, then push her hair back behind her ear. “I love you, Kelsey. I miss hearing your sweet voice so much,” I say tenderly. “Will you let me hear it?” I hold my breath, praying with every fiber of my being that she’ll open her mouth and say something. When she just lies there, her eyes still on mine but giving no indication she’s going to talk, my heart sinks. The bed moves slightly, and before I’m ready to let her go, Kelsey’s rolling to her back, dislodging my hand, then sitting up. Daniel takes her place and bounces to the middle of the bed. I’m not sure how it happened; when we went to sleep last night, he was in the middle of the bed with me and Kelsey on the outsides. I’m hoping it was Kelsey that moved to the middle because she wanted to be by her momma. “Hey, kid.” I grin and ruffle his hair. He giggles, and I throw my arm around his middle and drag him...

“Wait for me,” I call when he goes to the door to open it. Since we all slept in our clothes last night, I get up from the bed and head straight to the door. Daniel’s bouncing on his feet with his legs crossed in true I-have-to-pee fashion. Kelsey’s already standing next to the door when I get there. While Daniel is in the bathroom, Kelsey and I walk into the living room. My eyes immediately go to the couch to see it’s empty, the blankets neatly folded at one end with the pillow on top. I look around and still don’t see Alexander. I notice his boots, which were at the door last night, are gone, meaning he must be outside. I bite my thumbnail, contemplating whether I should make something for breakfast or wait to see if he comes back. After a minute, I hear Kelsey’s stomach rumble, and make my decision. I lead her to the kitchen, where she sits at the bar. I spot my purse on the counter and grab my phone from beside it. Still no signal. I blow out a breath and set the useless thing back down. Turning to the fridge, I rummage through it and pull out a carton of eggs. Next, I go in search of ingredi...

With both kids occupied for a few minutes, I take the opportunity to use the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” I let them know before heading back toward the hall. I do my business, flush, and wash my hands. Running my tongue over my teeth, I feel the fuzz and wish for a toothbrush. I open the medicine cabinet, hoping to find at least some toothpaste or mouthwash, and come up empty. The cabinet is pretty bare, only carrying a bottle of aspirin and a comb. I wrinkle my nose. One thing I hate is having a mouth full of fuzz. Remembering seeing a bathroom in Alexander’s room, I wonder if I’m brave enough to trespass in there to look for some mouthwash. Desperate for a fresh mouth, I decide to go for it. I feel like a thief getting ready to break into a house when I peek my head out of the bathroom. Spying the kids at the counter mixing the contents in their bowls and still no sign of Alexander, I walk on tiptoes down the hallway toward the master bedroom. I leave the door open and rush to the bathroom. This bathroom is a lot bigger than the one in the hallway. While it’s not huge, it’s a lot bigger than you would think considering the size of the bedroom. But it’s beautiful with its rustic look. Cream-colored walls, pedestal sink, claw-foot tub, and separate shower. It fits with the rest of the cabin. Looking over my shoulder to make sure I’m not caught, I quickly walk over to the sink and open the small medicine cabinet. I almost shout with elation when I see a bottle of mint m...

Seeing the weather channel playing on the TV reminds me I haven’t even looked outside to see if it’s still snowing. “How does it look outside?” “Very white,” he remarks. I laugh, then look over when I feel his eyes on me. He has a weird expression on his face. His brows are pulled down low, and it almost looks like he’s in pain. The look confuses me, but I decide to ignore it. “Is it still coming down?” “Yes,” he answers, then stuffs a forkful of pancake in his mouth. “Any chance you think they’ll plow the roads today?” After swallowing his bite, he says, “Nope. There would be no point. It’ll just get covered again in thirty minutes.” We eat in silence for several minutes. The only sounds come from our utensils scraping our plates

I push some eggs around in my syrup before I look over at him. “I really am sorry you’re stuck with us. I’m sure you don’t care to have strangers invading your house.” He gives me a look that tells me he’s tired of hearing me give my thanks, so I clamp my mouth shut. That is, until the quiet grates on my nerves again. “You said you’ve lived here your whole life. Does that mean you grew up in this house?” He sets his plate down on the coffee table in front of him. “No. My parents had a house in town. This was my grandparents’ place.” “Oh.” I put my plate beside his and turn in my seat, bring one foot up and tucking it under me. “Do your parents still live in town?” “They moved to Tennessee a few years ago.” He doesn’t seem too bothered by my questions, so I continue. “Do you have any siblings?” “Just my sister.” I run my fingers along the smoothness of the couch. I hate to have idle hands. I constantly have to be doing something with them. My poor cuticles look terrible and would probably give a manicurist a heart attack. “What kind of work do you do?” His brows drop as he moves his eyes from me to the TV. “Why all the questions?” he asks. Embarrassment has my cheeks turning pink, and I turn so I’m facing forward again. “Sorry,” I say softly. “I just figured since we might be stuck together for a few days, we may as well get to know each other a bit so we’re not complete strangers.” I get up from the couch and pick up my plate. I guess my line of questioning is over. I unde...

“Do you enjoy working with them?” I ask. “I do. My grandfather raised horses, and I knew from a kid I wanted to work with them.” “That’s nice,” I remark and pass him a plate. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do until I was in college. It was a toss-up between a guidance counselor or a teacher.” “What did you choose?” “Teacher.” “What made you choose that one?” I smile. “I like knowing I’ll be part of shaping children’s futures, that I played a big role in who they’ll become.” He nods and turns quiet. We finish the rest of the dishes in silence, except this time it doesn’t feel awkward. It’s peaceful. After, I wipe down the stove and counters while Alexander feeds an excited Gigi. I check on the kids. Daniel’s still on the floor with the puppies, he’ll probably be there all day if I let him, and Kelsey’s on the couch. When she spots me, she gets up and walks over, holding the crossword puzzle book. The pages are curled and creased. Even knowing what she’s trying to say, I flip through the pages. They’re all done. “You finished already?” I ask, and of course get nothing in return. “I’m sorry, Kelsey, we don’t have another one with us. We’ll get one when we make it back to town.” Her frown is barely noticeable. “Come on, let’s go to the living room and see what’s on TV.” I grab her hand and lead her back to the couch. Alexander walks by and disappears down the hallway. Ten minutes later, he comes back out with a drawing pad and holds it out to Kelsey. “Maybe you could draw som...

“WHERE YA GOING?” The question comes from behind me. I turn around as I’m zipping up my jacket and face Daniel. He’s holding a black puppy to his chest as he looks up at me. “Gotta go check on the horses,” I reply. His eyes get big and his mouth drops open. The surprise doesn’t last long before he’s practically bouncing on his feet. I’ve noticed since they’ve been here that the kid is hyper. The complete opposite of his sister. “I didn’t know you had horses!” he says excitedly. “I wanna see them! Can I come with you?” I glance over to the door in the kitchen that leads to a small laundry room where Gwen’s doing her and the kids’ laundry, then look back down at Daniel. With the eager way he’s watching me, there’s no way I can deny this kid, even if I wanted to. And to my surprise, I find that I don’t want to. His exuberant demeanor and honesty is refreshing. I’ve rarely been around kids, except for my sister Christa’s daughter, who’s only two years old. I’ve only seen the toddler twice, and both times I’ve kept my distance, the painful reminder of what I almost had keeping me from bonding with her. I’m a shit uncle and have apologized to Christa for being so. She says she understands, and I’m sure she does, but I’ve seen the look in her eyes when she’s visited those couple of times. I’ve seen the sadness lurking when I purposely put space between me and her daughter. I reach for my gloves and lift my chin toward the kitchen. “Go ask your mom.” “Yah!” he yells, then turns on...

“Whoa there, kid,” she says, holding out her hands. “What’s the rush?” I slip on my hat and force back a chuckle when Daniel’s words come out way too fast and sound like one long word. “Mr.AlexanderhashorsesandhesaidIcouldgoseethemwithim.” He pauses just long enough to take a breath. “Can I, Mom? Can I?” She looks over at me, and I give her a chin lift, letting her know it’s okay. Instead of answering Daniel, she walks over to me with him following her, his head tipped back, looking at her with a pleading look. “Are you sure it’s okay? Daniel can be… quite rambunctious at times.” Daniel switches his focus to me, his lips moving as he silently says please over and over again. “Yeah. We’ll be fine,” I tell her. “Yes!” Daniel screeches. He shoves the puppy into his mother’s arms and runs to grab his jacket. “Hat and gloves too, Daniel!” Gwen says, laughing at her son’s animated behavior. Once he has both on, along with his boots, Gwen stops him when he tries to pass by her. She squats down in front of him and puts the puppy on the floor between her legs. He starts waddling away immediately. “You listen to Mr. Alexander, you hear? And keep your hat and gloves on the whole time.” He nods rapidly with a big grin, and she zips up his coat to just below his chin. Before the puppy can get too far away, she scoops him up and stands. Facing me once again, she says, “Please keep a good eye on him.” As any mother would be, she’s worried about her child being near a large animal. I can’...

Daniel just stands there for several seconds, taking in the few horse heads that are poking out of the stalls. “Can I pet one?” I chuckle at the pure wonderment in his tone. Walking over to the basket of apples, I grab out a couple and carry them back over to Daniel. “How about feeding them a treat?” I hold one out to him. “Can I really?” He grabs it, looks down at it a moment, then turns his excited eyes up at me. “Ever fed a horse an apple before?” “No, sir.” “Come on. I’ll show you how to do it.” I lead him over to June’s stall. She’s a black with gray spots appaloosa. I’ve had her for eight weeks now and she’s about ready to go home to her family. She neighs softly and tosses her head a couple times as we walk up to her stall. Daniel stops and stares up at her, his mouth hanging open in awe. “This is June,” I tell him. June brings her head closer to Daniel, and for a minute I think he’s going to take a step back, but he doesn’t. Brave kid. Horses are big even to adults; to a child they’re enormous. I pet June along her neck and she lifts her head to me, nudging my shoulder. “Hey, girl.” I turn to Daniel. “Hold the apple out in your palm. Don’t grip it. Just let it rest in your hand.” He does as I tell him and holds the apple out. Even for a kid I barely know, his expression is priceless as he watches the horse gently take the apple from his hand. A big smile appears on his face when the horse starts crunching on the fruit. “Good girl,” I murmur to the horse, and run my...

Bandit pops his head out and twists to look at us. He snorts and stomps the ground. “What’s that horse’s name?” Daniel asks. “That’s Bandit. He’s one of the ones that isn’t very nice.” “What’s wrong with him?” “He’s just making it very difficult to train him,” I answer. “What’ll happen to him if he can’t be trained?” I walk over to the barrel of grain, then set Daniel on his feet. “All horses can be trained. Some are just more difficult than others and you have to spend extra time with them.” I hand him a small bucket of oats and scoop out another. “Each horse is different, so you have to alter your training routine to fit each one.” “Oh.” He turns and looks at Bandit, who’s tossing his head and snorting. “He’s pretty.” “He is.” Daniel and I walk over to the first stall, and I top off the oats feeder, then check to see if the water needs to be refilled or the hay replenished. We do this to the rest of the stalls. At each one, Daniel reaches out and touches the horses, a look of pure rapture on his face. When we come to Bandit’s, I tell Daniel to stand back. I’m unsure if Bandit will play nice or not, and I’m not willing to take the chance of Daniel getting hurt. “You ready to head back in?” I ask him once everything is back in its place. His shoulders droop and his face loses some of its cheerfulness. “I guess.” The look of disappointment doesn’t settle well with me, so I try to lighten his mood. “You can come with me when I check on them before bed.” At his excited fist p...

“She’ll come around. She just needs to figure out how to let go of the pa...