While Cale was tending to his sons, Quinn cleared up the kitchen and made two cups of tea, which she placed on the table near the fire. It was all so right, it all felt so right, that she wanted to cry. She felt too much at home here. If things had turned out differently, she might have actually belonged here, been a real part of their lives.
She touched the ornaments gently, one then the next. The boys had been so cute making their little cookie ornaments. Lacking food coloring to make colored dough, they had added cocoa to some of the batter, and from the light brown dough had made little bears and wolves, and deer like the ones they had seen in the mountains. Then, from the plain batter, they had made baseballs and bats to hang on the tree for their father. Lastly, they had made mittens in the shape, of their hands out of red and blue construction paper, insisting that Cale and Quinn trace and hang their hands, too. Then they had hung them all on the tree together.
They looked so dear to her, the four hands of colored paper, like Poppa Bear, Momma Bear, and the two Baby Bears. Dear enough to set her heart to breaking if she dwelled too long on the sight. She wondered what would happen to the decorations once Cale took his sons back to Maryland.
"The boys would like you to come say good night," Cale told her as he came into the quiet room.
"Okay," she said, and set off toward the end of the hall.
It was twenty minutes before she returned to the front of the cabin, the boys having talked her into a story before letting her turn out the light. Cale was stacking wood on the fire and had already made her bed for her.
"The boys had such a great time today," he said without turning around. With the boys in bed, there was little to focus on but Quinn. On her eyes, on her face. On her body. It was only a little less difficult if he couldn't see her. Knowing she was there, behind him, was hard enough.
"I had a great time, too. They are really a lot of fun," she said to his back. "When they're not tying you up, of course."
"I'm sorry about that." Cale laughed, then made the mistake of turning to face her. The nearness of her pierced him to his soul.
His laughter died in his throat and he rested the fire poker against the stone of the face of the fireplace.
"Quinn..." He searched for words, then realized he wasn't even certain of what he had wanted to say, beyond speaking her name. He cleared his throat. "Thanks for all you did with the boys today. I can't remember when I saw them have so much fun. I'll see you in the morning."
Abruptly he turned, and she was alone in the room.
A wave of disappointment rolled over her. She had hoped for some time alone with him, had looked forward to discussing the day, and all they had shared. Everything they had done had seemed so natural. Talking it over at the end of the day felt like the natural thing to do.
And I guess, in a normal happy family, that would be the natural thing to do, she told herself as she changed into the thermal shirt and sweatpants she had slept in the night before. If, in fact, you are a normal happy family. Which we are not. The boys are Cale's and another woman's, and I'm just a... what had Evan called her? An intruder.
With an unhappy sigh, she turned off the light and stared into the darkness, and permitted herself to face with a sinking heart the undeniable fact that, after all these years, she was still in love with Caleb McKenzie.
The temperature in the cabin having dropped another few degrees, Cale thought it might be a good idea to throw a few more logs on the fire. And he might as well take another quilt in for Quinn, just in case she needed it
Quietly, he followed the thirty-two steps to the sofa, then placed the quilt over the sleeping woman. He added some logs to the fire, which had all but gone out, then fanned the flames for a few minutes. Turning back to the sofa, he fought off the urge to awaken her, to tell her that he was still hopelessly in love with her.
There had been a time when he had been certain that he could never forgive her for having hurt him so very deeply. It had only taken her smile to prove him wrong.
Wondering if it could ever be possible to make it right again, if there was such a thing as a second chance, Cale walked to the window and stared out into the winter night.
The blizzard seemed to have stopped, although the wind still whipped the snow around in a powdery swirl. The night was still draped in hazy white, and the faintest trace of moonlight dusted the hills. He was just about to turn away, when a shadow out beyond the trees caught his eye. He leaned closer to the glass. What could be out on a night like this
The figure moved easily through the snow, as if out for a stroll on a summer night. Frowning, he went to the door and opened it, not believing his eyes.
There, there near the hanging rock. He could see her so clearly now. But how... ?
"Are you lost?" He called to her across the night. "Can you make it to the cabin by yourself?"
The figure appeared to move slightly away, toward the trees.
"No, no, don't go into the woods. Wait right there, I'll come for you." But even as he spoke, the figure seemed to disappear into thin air. Confused, he stood in the open doorway, looking out into a whirl of white.
"Cale?" Quinn called to him from the sofa. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he told her, closing out the night as he closed the door behind him. "I guess it was nothing."
"Who were you talking to?" She sat up sleepily.
"I'm not certain that I was speaking to anyone." He hesitated, wondering what he had, in fact, seen. "I thought I saw... I don't know, a figure... but of course, I didn't. I couldn't have. No one could survive out on a night like this____"