“Dad, hurry up!” Emmalyn’s voice booms through the house bouncing off the walls.

“It’s Saturday. Why do we have to be up and moving so early?” I’m towel-drying my hair as I walk down the stairs.

“My friends and I want to go sledding before the hard snow hits again today.”

“What are you, the weatherman?”

“Grandpa watched the weather last night, and he says it’s going to snow hard later today.” She’s tapping her foot again. She draws back the curtains covering the large pane window in the living room. “Look, the clouds have already turned gray and dingy.”

“Between the foot tapping and the eye rolling, I don’t think I’m going to make it through your teenage years.” I walk through the kitchen, doused with the smell of coffee, to the laundry room and throw the towel in a wicker basket. I pull a wool sweater off a hanger and put it on.

“You know if you give me the keys and I could drive myself.” She is standing right behind me with her hand held out.

“Haha, very funny. You have a lot of years before you can drive.”

“Grandpa let me drive his truck out back.” Her arms cross in front of her with a little bit of attitude.

“I’ll have to have a talk with Grandpa then. No driving. Let me grab a to-go cup of coffee, and I’ll be right there.” She turns to the side, not giving me much room to pass.

“Can I at least start the car to keep warm while you take your dear sweet time?”

“You’ve been hanging around your grandpa way too much. You’re even starting to talk like him.” Digging the keys out of my jeans, I toss them to her, and she sticks out her tongue and marches off.

“Good morning, Son.”

“Hey, Dad. Did you really let Emmalyn drive your truck?” I tighten the lid on my cup.

“Sure I did, out back on our property. You used to drive it when you were her age, or have you forgotten?” He chuckles.

“That was different.”

“Oh, yeah, how so?” He leans against the counter, with a smirk.

“It…it just was. I’m running her into town to hang out with her friends. I’ll be in the store later.” I swear those two are thick as thieves. Emmalyn has the music blaring when I get in the Wrangler. She’s singing at the top of her lungs to some old rock and roll song. I reach over and turn the music down.

“Hey! I was listening to that.” She scowls.

“I’d like to be able to hear when I’m Grandpa’s age if that’s okay with you.” I put the Wrangler in reverse and back down the long driveway. Emmalyn continues to sing but at a more acceptable volume. “I want you to be careful out there today, but have fun. I’m going to take a couple days off next week, and you and I’ll head up the mountain on the snowmobiles.”

“Can we stay at the cabin?”

“I’ll check into it. It’s probably not available this time of year.”

“I want to feed the deer.”

“I could see if the cottage is rented out. There are always deer hanging out there.”

Timber used to feed them. She rescued a momma deer and her babies from drowning in the lake the year she died. She damn near drowned herself, but she was not leaving them behind. I swear that deer and the babies loved her.

“We haven’t been there in a while.” Her happy demeanor is gone.

“I know. I promise we’ll go soon.”

She’s quiet the rest of the way to town. It’s almost as if she’s lost in her thoughts. I drop her off and tell her what time she needs to be at the store to go home. I pull into the parking lot of the store and then turn around. Emmalyn is correct—we haven’t been to the house. I decide to drive by and see if anyone is renting it out. I’m sure it’s booked, and I could call the rental company and find out, but I’d really like to drive by the place.

Snow clouds are gathering up in the distance. Dad was right; a storm will be moving in on us. The ice is thick and piled high on the narrow road leading to the house. I drive by slowly, looking for any signs of movement. There is smoke coming out of the chimney, but no vehicles are outside. I crank my neck to the side when I see someone standing in the kitchen window. “It can’t be.” I slam on my brakes and damn near run into the fence. I close my eyes tight. “It’s my imagination getting the better of me. She’s been dead for years.” The woman in the window was the spitting image of Timber.

I nearly turn my body all the way around in the seat to see if I can still see her, but there is no one there. “Keegan, you’re losing your fucking mind.” I can’t turn the Wrangler around, so I’ll have to drive further down to make the turn. On the way back, I’ll stop and knock on the door.

It’s another mile down the road before I can head back the other way. I drive slower this time, hoping to get a glimpse in the window again. I pull up next to the fence and get out. My feet can’t dredge through the snow quick enough to get me to the front door. I’ve probably frightened whoever’s inside. I knock on the wooden door, causing it to rattle, but there is no answer. I try the knocker, but there is still no sign of life inside. If anyone was due in today, someone from the rental company could have come by and started the fire so it would be nice and warm inside.

I walk over to the kitchen window and place my hand against the glass and peer inside. No one is inside. I’ve been talking about Timber so much lately, I’m sure I conjured up a vision of her. Either that or I’ve totally lost it.

I shake it off and head back to my vehicle. I sync with my Bluetooth and call the rental agency. They had a cancellation but had been able to rent it out at the last minute, and the renter was due in yesterday.

The store is even busier than normal on the weekends. Great for business, but it makes for a long day. I spent most of my time putting out fires or answering questions from the tourists wanting to know all the best places to go skiing.

It’s three o’clock, and the snow is really falling hard, already accumulating on the parked cars. Just as I’m headed out of my office to look for Emmalyn, she comes through the door. “Hey, kiddo. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.” She sits down on the small leather couch in my office.

“Don’t sound so excited.” I rub the top of her head.

“Have you ever seen someone and thought you knew them?”

“What do you mean?” I sit beside her.

“I stopped in the cupcake store when you dropped me off. It took me a while because it was so busy. Anyway, when I went to go meet up with my friends, this lady came out of the market, and she almost knocked me over.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but Dad she looked like Mom. I know I’ve never seen Mom, but she looked just like the pictures, only a little older.”

“Wow, you and I must be on the same page today. I saw someone that looked like her too, out at the cottage.”

“You saw her?” She sits up straight.

“No. I think I imagined her.”

She falls back against the couch. “I would have bet that lady was Mom today.” Her eyes mist over.

“Sweetie, you know she’s dead. I think it’s the time of year and we’ve been talking about her a lot lately.”

“But, what if she’s not dead?” Her lip quivers.

I pull her into my lap. “If your mom were alive, she would have never missed out on raising you.”

“How can I miss someone so badly that I’ve never met?” She sobs on my shoulder.

“Because she’s part of you. You can feel her in here.” I point to her heart.

“Do you still feel her?” She lifts her head to look at me with big crocodile tears streaming down her face.

“I feel her when I’m with you.”

She wipes her nose with the back of her gloved hand. “Do you think you will ever fall in love again?”

“I don’t know. Your mom was the love of my life. I fell in love with her the day I met her.”

“What about this woman Shay you’ve been writing?”

“She is my only connection with Wolfe.”

“But, she’s not his sister, and you keep writing her.”

I don’t know how to explain to her what I feel for Shay. I don’t understand myself why I’m drawn to her. She lives on the other side of the world as far as I’m concerned, and we have two totally different lives. I can’t deny that I’ve enjoyed writing her and get excited when a letter arrives. I know it’s odd. Maybe I’ve been alone far too long.

“She’s been doing some research trying to find out if Wolfe’s sister may have lived in the house before her.” It’s not a lie, and it’s the only good reason I can give her. “Dry your eyes. Let’s go find Grandpa and head home before we’re snowed in here.” She sniffs and hugs me. I love the moments like these because it feels like she’s still daddy’s little girl. They are few and far between now and I cherish them.

The rest of the day, I have an uneasy feeling like something is about to happen. Something that will rattle all of us to the core. I can’t shake it no matter how much I try to deny its presence. It’s very unnerving.