Shelter From Storms by Sandra Lindsey
At last. Louis breathed a prayer of thanks for the snow he’d cursed all day. Against the white fields, the brick mansion showed vivid red. Mature trees surrounded the house, their branches bending with the snow settled on them. He remembered the day the saplings were planted; the weather then had been normal for April: wet, with a spring chill lingering in the air. Had today’s weather been mild like the previous fortnight, or wet like eighteen years before, he’d not have seen the house. The white of the ground brought contrast to the view, and the effort of travel forced his pause before climbing the next slope.
The ever-present wind, with a dazzle of snowflakes, bit through his tattered coat and torn shirt, stealing away yet more of the warmth he cr
