A Winter of Promises

CHAPTER 1

Snow fell in soft, relentless flurries and had laid a pristine coat of white on quiet streets. Evie Harper squeezed the steering wheel tighter as her car crept along the winding mountain road. Her breath fogged the air, but not from the cold. It hadn't been easy coming back to this town. With every mile, she was a mile closer to the ghosts of her past—and one person about whom she wasn't at all so sure she was ready.

“Mommy, how much longer?” Lily's small voice piped up from the back seat, cutting into Evie's tangled thoughts.

Evie's daughter's eyes met hers through the rear-view mirror. Lily was all muffled up in her faded pink coat, clutching onto her worn teddy bear as if for dear life. The huge hazel eyes spoke both of exhaustion from the lengthy drive and a hope, pure and only possible with the innocence of a child.

“Almost there, baby.” Evie said over the din, forcing a cheer when tension was tightening her voice. She wouldn't let it c***k in front of Lily.

Around one bend, the welcoming vision of her family cabin came into view: nestled among snow-laden pines, aglow from within, the porch lined with strings of golden Christmas lights—a postcard of serenity masking years of hardship and heartbreak.

Lily pressed her nose to the window. “It's so pretty! Are we staying here forever?”

Evie smiled weakly. “For a while.” She couldn't promise anything more than that.

As she pulled the car in, the front door opened and Margaret Harper stepped out, bundled in a thick coat and scarf. Her mother's face lit up, and despite the distance of time and pain, Evie felt a twinge of comfort.

“Evie!” Margaret called, waving as she came down the porch steps. “And my little Lily!”

Lily scrambled from the car into her grandmother's arms, giggling when Margaret spun her around. The sight of them twisted a surge of guilt inside Evie's middle. She'd been away too long.

Margaret's eyes turned to Evie then, soft with concern. “You look exhausted, honey. Come inside and warm up.”

Evie hesitated a moment before nodding. The cabin was supposed to be her haven, but stepping through that door felt a little too much like stepping into the past—and not all of that was comfortable.

Inside, the cabin was redolent of pine and cinnamon and a touch of wood smoke from the fire crackling in the hearth. Margaret situated Lily up at the kitchen table with a mug of hot cocoa and then turned to Evie.

“How are you holding up?” her mother asked low.

Evie plopped down into a chair, rubbing her temples. “It's been a long drive.”

Margaret surveyed her with that look of knowing a mother can bestow on anyone else. “I wasn't talking about the drive.”

Evie's lips clamped together. “We're fine, Mom. Just tired.”

Before Margaret could press her further, the door burst open, and a cold wind swept in with Jack Harper. The bundle of firewood clattered on the floor beside the hearth.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to come home.” He said, beaming, his wide grin faltering a fraction at an undercurrent in his voice. “Didn't think I was going to see you back in these parts again anytime soon.”

“Nice to see you too, Jack.” she returned dryly, though she couldn't help the faint tugging at her lips.

Jack's expression gentled as he looked across at Lily, sipping her cocoa blissfully. “Glad to see you're safe.” he repeated much more quietly, and his tone was adjusted.

Evie nodded, relieved he didn't push.

Later that night, as Margaret tucked in Lily, Evie went out into the coolness of the evening. It was snowing steadily now, and the world was muffled. Wrapping her arms about herself against a chill not born from the elements, she found herself the object of words spoken by a deep and rather familiar voice.

Evie froze. Slowly, she turned to find Daniel Pierce leaning against the railing, his eyes—in the dark, black as coal—fixed on hers.

She hadn't seen him in almost a decade, and yet it was as if the years had only chiseled at his features, whittling them to perfection. He was taller, broader, and carried with the quiet confidence of a man who'd built something out of nothing.

“What were you warned about?” she asked, more defensive than she meant to be.

Daniel's lips tweaked up in a small, slight smile. “That you were coming back.”

Evie shrugged, as if she did not have an opinion one way or the other. “Didn't think it was anybody's business but mine.”

“It's my business, when Jack's been going on about it for weeks.” he rejoined, his gaze firm upon hers. “I wasn't sure I'd believe it until I saw you.”

She sighed and leaned against the railing. “I didn't come here to dredge up the past, Daniel.”

“And yet here we are.”

He didn't sound accusatory, but still she felt a bristle. “I came back for Lily.” she said firmly. “That's all.”

Daniel nodded, his face unreadable in the dim light. “Well, it's good to see you, Evie. Even if you're not planning on staying.”

And with that, he pushed off the railing and disappeared into the snowy night, leaving her with more questions than answers.

The next morning, Evie woke up to the sound of Lily's giggles carrying into her bedroom from the cabin. Heading into the living room, she found Lily and Jack working on a low, uneven tower that was fashioned out of a set of wooden blocks.

“Morning, sunshine.” he told her with a grin.

“Morning.” she replied as she ruffled Lily's hair.

It wasn't until then that anything had finally swollen her heart to such a size—as large as her daughter's happiness. Her phone buzzed on the table, and her stomach dropped as the name came across the screen: Greg Harper.

Her fingers were shaking just a little as she picked up the phone and stepped into the kitchen. “What do you want, Greg?”

“Is that any way to greet your ex-husband?” his smooth, infuriating voice drawled.

Evie's teeth clicked as her jaw clenched. “I'm not in the mood for games.”

“Relax, Evie. I only wanted to know where my daughter was.”

“She's safe.” Evie said, her teeth clenched. “And she is with me. That's all you need to know.”

Greg's voice went dark. “You don't get to decide what I need to know. She is my daughter too.”

“She's not a pawn, Greg.” Evie snapped.

“Perhaps not.” he said coldly. “But then, you're forgetting—I always know just exactly how to get what I want from a person.”

The line went dead, and her hand shook slightly as Evie set the phone down. Fragile was her new haven in Snow Haven, on thin ice, ready to c***k right from under her feet at any moment.

She swung toward the door to find Jack looming there, his eyes serious. “Was that him?”

Evie nodded, her throat clenching.

Jack crossed his arms. “He's not going to let this go, is he?”

“No,” Evie whispered, “He won't.”

Though he had promised to watch for any sign of trouble, neither had noticed the figure in dark clothes that had been standing at the woods' edge, staring—its eyes unblinking—toward the cabin.