The whole group made it back to Lone Pine before the snow really started coming down. Everyone headed to their vehicles, no excuses needed as they hurried to get off the roads before they became impassable.

“Light fluffy flakes, and they’re still treacherous,” Tansy complained to Hanna, slipping her feet into her boots and getting ready to leave with her sister.

Brad’s phone had gone off a moment earlier, and he was talking in the background, probably being summoned on a call. He joined them, pulling on his jacket and frowning outside at the vehicle the girls had arrived in. “I have to head into town. I’ll give you a ride,” he suggested. “You can pick up your car tomorrow once the plows have been out.”

They accepted his offer, giving Hanna and Patrick hugs before slipping out.

Brad dipped his chin at his father then leaned in and kissed Hanna quickly. “I gotta run.”

She didn’t even have time to be embarrassed that he’d kissed her like that in public. Everyone was scurrying around, and they went from a houseful of people to only her, Patrick and Crissy in less than fifteen minutes.

“I think that’s a new record,” Patrick said when she mentioned it. “But it makes sense. Arriving home before the roads are impassible is a good idea.” He moved slowly as if in pain.

“Can I get you something?” she asked.

Patrick hesitated before offering a reluctant nod. “I wouldn’t have traded being out there for anything, but I’d better take something or I won’t sleep, and I’ll be in worse pain tomorrow.”

She put on the kettle then ran to get the painkiller from his locked bathroom cupboard. Patrick took the medication then settled in front of the fire. He closed his eyes, and as he relaxed, the deep lines of pain on his face eased slightly. Hanna grabbed a knitted throw off the couch and tucked it over him, a sense of connection she hadn’t expected filling her.

Crissy thought Patrick was Santa Claus, and they would have to deal with that at some point. What was true was that the older man had become more than just a casual friend over the past week.

Crissy had vanished the instant her friends had left. Hanna assumed that she’d gone to play with her new toys, only after getting Patrick settled, she went to check and Crissy wasn’t in her room.

Hanna stood quietly, heart pounding as she tried to figure out where her little girl had gone. She checked in her bedroom, both bathrooms, the craft room, and on the off-chance, she even opened the door to Brad’s room.

Nothing there except a neatly made king-size bed.

It was only when Hanna thought to look for boots that she realized Crissy must’ve snuck out to the barn. The girls had been playing with the kittens before the trip up the hill, and Crissy had probably wanted to go say good night to them as well.

She pulled on her coat and made her way out to the cozy shelter, passing stalls for the horses who were happily munching on their late dinner. Even though their company had left in a rush, all the cowboys had paused, taking care of the horses thoroughly before leaving them warm and happy for the night.

She found Crissy sitting cross-legged with the kittens in her lap, her face streaked with tears.

“Sweetie, what’s the matter?” Hanna asked in a panic, checking to see that there were no obvious signs of hurt.

Crissy’s voice was a wobbling cry. “We forgot Blackie.”

Hanna didn’t understand. “You forgot Blackie where?”

Utter misery looked up at her. “We snuck Blackie with us, up to the cabin. He was in my pocket on the trip there. I thought Emma brought him back, but she couldn’t catch him and then she rode with her daddy and I was on the sled, and she couldn’t tell me until we got back and now he’s all alone.”

After the joy of the day, her daughter’s fear and sadness melted Hanna’s heart. “The cabin is warm. Blackie will be okay.”

“But not when it gets cold.” Tears slid down Crissy’s face. She was crying so hard she barely made any noise.

“It’s okay. We’ll find a way to make it okay,” Hanna promised, slipping the kittens from Crissy’s lap and back with their mama before picking up her little girl and heading into the house.

“I want to call Brad,” Crissy whispered. “He’ll make it better.”

But Brad was gone on a fire call. Still, Hanna knew he’d want to be told. “I’ll phone him right away.”

She stood in the mudroom as Crissy raced off, waiting with faint hope until the line went to Brad’s voice mail.

Something else had to be done.

Crissy had already informed Patrick what was wrong. The old man had made his way into the kitchen, resting uneasily at the table with concern in his eyes. “I’ll go get the little thing.”

Hanna placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from rising from his chair. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“But Mommy—”

“But Hanna, girl—”

She stilled them both with a stern glance. “This is just as important to me is it is to you, but I’m not about to let Mr. Patrick go do something dangerous. You took enough painkiller to put an elephant to sleep,” she told him sternly. “Exactly how do you think you’re going to get to the cabin and back without hurting yourself?”

He sat back heavily in his chair, one of his canes clattering to the floor, echoing like a gunshot. “Oh. That.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Yes, that.”

Crissy pressed her face against Hanna’s belly, utter misery in her voice as she spoke. “Is Blackie going to die?”

Hanna stroked a hand over her daughter’s head. “Of course not. Only we need to be smart and make an emergency plan. Sometimes we have to move fast, like when Mr. Brad got you out of the fire. But most of the time when something goes wrong, we slow down and think hard so we can make a smart plan. Let’s work on that, okay?”

She pulled out a chair and lifted Crissy into it before slipping to the counter and making cups of hot cocoa. Even though she didn’t want it, she knew the hot drink was a good idea for her as well.

Patrick patted Crissy on the shoulder gently. “Your mom is right. I know that rule, but I kind of forgot.”

Crissy looked up at him before assuring him sweetly, “Worrying about a kitten makes it hard to follow rules.”

“So it does, little missy, so it does.”

Hanna placed herself opposite them, waiting until Crissy took a few deep swallows. Then she laid her hands on the table and listed options. “Brad is gone to work, and while I know he can help us when he gets home, we should make plans in case that doesn’t happen for a while. Patrick, how long do you think the cabin will stay warm enough that Blackie will be fine?”

He gave it deliberate thought before speaking slowly. “At least until the morning. With the snow coming down, it’s not that cold. The place is well insulated. I’ve banked the stove in the evening and had it shirtsleeve temperature still at noon the next day in weather like this.”

“Then there’s no need to rush,” Hanna pointed out. “In the morning, when Brad’s home, we’ll ask if he can take you up to rescue Blackie.”

Crissy’s shoulders relaxed as if all the fear had gone out of her. Only she stared at Patrick with begging in her eyes. “Are you sure you can’t send Rudolph?”

The older man glanced at Hanna with concern before shaking his head and motioning for Crissy to come climb into his lap. “You know that Santa is magic, right?”

She nodded slowly, fingers reaching up to brush his beard.

He smiled, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “One thing Santa does because he can’t be everywhere, is that he shares his special magic with people. It’s not the kind of magic that can make reindeer fly, but the kind that makes people happy inside. It’s special magic that helps them do things to make others happy. That’s how Santa can get so much done even though he’s just one man. He gets other people to be stand-in Santas for him.”

Crissy’s eyes widened with understanding. “So, you’re not Santa, but you know Santa?”

Hanna was holding her breath, wondering how on earth Patrick was going to keep this from exploding into a terrible situation.

She should have known that the smart, caring man could handle it.

He tapped Crissy on the nose before putting his finger against his lips as if about to share a secret. “Santa gets around. Chances are you’ve met him too, and no one who has ever met him comes away without being changed. You’re right. I’m not Santa, but I’m very well acquainted with the old rascal, and all the things that are important to him are important to me. Including little Blackie. I don’t have any magical reindeer that can bring him home, but between my son and your mom, I know everything will be fine.”

Crissy glanced at Hanna. Speaking in a whisper as if Patrick wasn’t even sitting there. “Have you met Santa?”

Hanna thought back to the people who had helped her when she’d been homeless and pregnant. To the people who’d been there for her when she’d been struggling as a single mom. To the new friends who had given so joyfully to her and Crissy in the past days.

To Brad and Patrick who had opened their home, and their hearts, to needy friends.

“Yes,” Hanna assured her. “I know lots and lots of Santa’s helpers.”

Crissy lifted her hand and pointed with her thumb over her shoulder at Mr. Patrick, raising her brows as if asking for confirmation.

Hanna leaned forward. “Definitely Santa’s helper.”

Her daughter took a deep breath and leaned her head against Patrick’s chest. A look of amazement came over the old man’s face as he tentatively cuddled her in.

“I thought Santa’s helpers were called elves,” Crissy said, her voice tired after the worry and excitement of the day.

Patrick chuckled, the sound so much like Brad’s it made something stir inside Hanna. Another reminder of the connection growing between all of them. Something warm and rich—a lot like what family was supposed to feel like.

The callout hadn’t been from the Heart Falls district, but three zones away, closer to Crowsnest Pass. As fire chief for the district, he had to travel farther when it was called for, but it sucked when it was one of these distant emergencies at a time he’d hoped to stay close to home.

Worst thing was moving deep into the country meant losing cell coverage nine times out of ten, and today was no exception. Brad was unable to phone Hanna and Patrick to let them know where he was.

He shook hands with the volunteer team to call it the end of a successful mission then drove for over an hour in the darkness before the sun began to lighten the sky. Long, dark days were the rules in December, but between the darkness and the heavy snow that continued to fall, Brad had inched forward instead of rushing home the way he wanted.

He got up the road to Lone Pine with difficulty, even his 4 x 4 fighting against the deep snow piles that had built since the night before. He was smoky and tired, and absolutely thrilled to push open his front door and walk into the warmth.

Being assaulted by a small child who wrapped her arms around him then burst into tears was the last thing he’d expected.

He stooped and picked her up, petting Crissy on the back. “Hey, sweetie. What’s this all about?”

Patrick’s canes echoed closer, his father’s face drawn with concern as he joined them in the hallway. “You didn’t check your messages.”

Brad shook his head. “I’ve been out of range and figured I should just come home.”

Crissy caught him by the face and forced him to look at her. “Mommy went to save Blackie, but now she’s going to be lost in the storm.”

A rush of adrenaline through his system sent every nerve to high alert. “What did Hanna do?”

Patrick held up a hand to Crissy. “Slow down, little missy. Let me explain, okay?”

She wiggled until Brad put her down, rushing into the kitchen as Patrick hurried to fill Brad in. “Seems the girls smuggled one of the kittens out on our tobogganing trip yesterday, and the teeny thing got left behind at the cabin. We waited until this morning, but Hanna insisted she’d better go get it before the weather got any worse. That was an hour and a half ago. She should have been back by now.”

Brad held his curses, quickly glancing out the window at what he already knew. “The snow is coming down harder than it was before.”

“She insisted she was comfortable riding the sled, and she knows the way. She must’ve had engine trouble or something.”

It made sense, but Brad was kicking himself that he hadn’t been there to help before Hanna had gone into the wilderness on her own. He hurried down the hallway to his room to grab a few things. “What was she wearing?”

“She’s warm. I made her put on Connie’s sledding gear, and she took some supplies just in case.” Patrick pointed back down the hall. “We put together some more food, so you go ahead and find her. Crissy and I will be okay until you bring her back.”

Brad gathered everything he thought he might need, stuffing a duffel bag full with extra warm clothing and emergency gear for if the worst had happened.

He marched into the kitchen to find Crissy making more sandwiches. Her face was set as if she was determined not to cry as she spread peanut butter carefully.

She spoke without looking up at him. “This is my fault,” she whispered.

Brad went to his knees in front of her, catching hold of her shoulders and making her look into his eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the kitten to the tobogganing party, but accidents happen. That’s no one’s fault, and I don’t want you blaming yourself for something like a snowstorm. Do you really know how to control the weather?”

She shook her head, eyes filled with moisture. “But Mommy’s not here, and that’s my fault.”

Brad itched to get outside, but Hanna would’ve insisted this was more important. “Your mommy is a grownup, and she makes her own decisions. If she went after Blackie, it’s because she thought it was the right thing to do. Just like I’m a grownup, and I’m going to do what I think is right.”

“You’re going to go save Mommy and Blackie?”

“I’m going to go give them a hand,” he corrected. “I don’t think they need saving. I think they just need a friend.”

Crissy put her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. “I’m glad you’re our friend.”

“I’m glad too,” he said, squeezing her back and soaking in strength from the little girl’s friendship to chase away some of his fears. Then they stacked the sandwiches together and added them to the food supply Patrick had already prepared.

The two of them accompanied him to the barn where he got the sled ready. Crissy pressed a kiss to his cheek before going back to Patrick’s side.

“You take care of my dad,” Brad told her sternly. “You tell him to make you grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. And if I don’t get back with your mom today, that means we’re just being safe. You go to sleep on time so that Santa can come, okay?”

Crissy slipped her hand into Patrick’s. “Okay.”

“Do whatever you need to stay safe, and don’t worry about us.” Patrick ordered him. “We’ll be fine.”

It was like driving into the thickest fog imaginable. The only thing Brad had in his favour was he knew the land from having travelled over it since he was a little boy. Plus, his mom had trained them to use the rolling lines of gullies and hills to follow instead of relying on trees—she’d warned them there’d be times when they might not be able to use their vision, but they could know where they were.

She’d taught them there were times when getting home might be impossible, but you could still be safe. Hunker down, stay with the sled.

It was the only thing he was afraid of—that Hanna had gone off the trail somewhere and he’d miss her.

But his mom had also said to plan for the worst and hope for the best, so Brad headed straight to the cabin, putting aside the rest of his emergency plans until he knew for sure they were needed.

He came over the second-to-last rise when the scent of wood smoke struck him, strong and deep, and in spite of not being able to see anything, his fears settled somewhat. Someone was in the cabin, because the smoke was thick and new, not a smolder lingering from the day before.

He parked beside her sled, dragging the emergency supplies with him as he marched up on the porch. Stomping his feet and brushing the snow off his shoulders before he opened the door and peeked in.

The one-room cabin glowed with soft candlelight, flames flickering in the glass front of the airtight stove. Hanna straightened from where she’d been sitting in front of the fire, and a small black cat jumped from her lap and stalked lazily across the floor.

Relief tangled with joy, and he dropped his bags to one side so he could push the door shut, throwing the bolt against the rising wind.

Hanna met him halfway across the floor, pressing herself against him and grabbing on tight. Brad squeezed her, closing his eyes and letting his heart rate return to normal.

When he opened his eyes, it was to discover the strangest setup in the corner of the room. A chair rested on top of a box on top of the kitchen table, all of it like a strange set of stairs rising toward the roof. “You’ve been redecorating.”

Hanna shifted back in his arms. Her cheeks were rosy, and she was covered from head to toe in warm flannel. “I had a few troubles retrieving Blackie,” she explained.

He eyed her contraption a little closer as he removed his boots and snowy gear. She took things from him, hanging snowy garments on hooks and moving quietly as the fire crackled in the stove.

“I take it the ungrateful creature wasn’t waiting patiently by the door for you to rescue it?”

Hanna shook her head. “How’s Crissy? She must be scared to death.”

“She’s fine. Patrick talked her down. She sent you a million peanut butter sandwiches so you wouldn’t starve.” He closed the distance between them. “You scared me too,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you came out here to rescue a kitten.”

“You would’ve done the same, and you know it,” she told him briskly, placing her hand over his. “I was just catching my breath before heading back.”

The wind chose that moment to rush up, stronger than before. It rattled the windowpanes and sent a long, low whistle through small cracks in the chinking between the logs.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Brad informed her. “The chance of getting lost is too high.”

Hanna went to the door and tugged it open, the icy wind swirling around her and flipping her hair hard. Brad reached past her to push the door closed, setting his shoulder into it as a gust nearly tore it from him.

“It wasn’t like that when I rode up,” Hanna told him. “I wouldn’t have gone out, not even for Blackie, if it’d been like that.”

Her reassurance melted the final bit of fear inside his chest. “Good.”

Her gaze dropped over him, pausing on his cheek, and she stepped closer, running her thumb over his skin before pulling back to show a trace of soot. “Did everything turn out okay?”

“Other than I need a shower, yes.”

It was as if the thought hit both of them at the same moment. He’d warned her they weren’t going anywhere, not until the storm passed. They had food and warmth, and for the first time since they’d begun seeing each other, they were utterly alone. No one was going to walk in on them. No little girl would be knocking on the door to interrupt—

Hanna turned away, pacing to the counter where she pulled the largest pot from the draining rack where it had been left after the party. She came back, her face poker straight. “Before you get too settled in, I guess we’d better start melting snow.”

He pulled his coat and boots back on and slid outside, bringing in extra firewood while he was at it. Every time the door opened Hanna was there, working at his side.

Neither of them said anything about what potentially could happen. But they were thinking about it, both of them, awfully loud. Brad knew no matter how much he wanted her, unless she made a move, he wasn’t going to push her.

It was up to her now. All up to her.