Chapter 1
Jack
The wind bites hard today on the mountain. Mt. Frost, my home and livelihood, has something to say as we head into Christmas week. The staff has the week off, but that doesn’t mean the animals or the fences or the mountain itself are taking time off. And that means—neither am I.
My boys, Todd and Cliff, help me as best they can with morning chores. Todd, at fifteen, is strong and capable, even if he gives me lip every now and then. Cliff, at six, is another story. He’s the most energetic and helpful person on the ranch, and also the most likely to make more work for me, by sheer enthusiasm and six-year-old-ness.
“Dad, your phone’s been alarming. What took you so long?” Todd asks in that grumpy way that’s taken over his countenance this year, his head popping out of the door. Stomping the snow off my boots on the porch, he closes the door in my face before I can answer in order to keep the biting wind out of the house. Alarm? Why is it alarming? I purposely cleared all meetings and extra work so the boys and I could have a proper Christmas together. It’s been too many years of grieving and working to ignore the pain. Anna, my sister, says I’m “causing irreparabledamage to those boys’ little hearts.” And that I need to, “step up and be the father I know you want to be; that your kids need you to be.” Even though I balked at the idea that I wasn’t doing enough, I’ve started to delegate more work so I can be more present for Todd and Cliff.
It's been six years since I’ve enjoyed Christmas. It was my wife’s favorite holiday. But in giving me Cliff, we lost Becca. And I’ve spent every Christmas since working, avoiding the pain, even though it isn’t fair to the boys.
Boots off and on the boot warming tray, I make my way inside in my woolen socks. Cliff is making pancakes, god help us, and Todd is…helping him? My jaw drops open, but I fix my face before they see me. I wouldn’t want to jinx this Christmas miracle. So while they splatter pancake batter all over the stove, singing along to some weird mash-up of Christmas songs, laughing together like they’re best friends, I check the messages on my phone in the office just off the living room.
Damn.
Today’s the day the scientist is coming up the mountain. Something about scientific discovery and a comet. Blowing out hard, running my hand through my hair, damp from the melting snowflakes, I check the weather one more time before going out to join my boys for breakfast.
“These pancakes smell like heaven,” I say, plastering on a smile and purposely ignoring the spilled batter dripping onto the wooden floor. Cliff’s face beams at me—happiness and pride. Todd’s mask of teenage angst drops for just a second, and I get a glimpse of that happy child I’ve missed these last two years. Makes my heart feel funny.
“You finish flipping, I’ll set the table!” Cliff shouts as he hops off the step stool and runs around to set our oak table with plates, forks, butter, and homemade syrup. A breakfast of pure carbs. I’m sure everyone, including my dietitian sister, is proud of me now.
The boys chatter about the schedule this week, revealing to me just how excited they are to have a week of me all to themselves. The lump in my throat makes it hard to eat, so I get up to pour myself another cup of bitter coffee.
“Listen, boys. I forgot there’s a scientist coming up to rent our cabin at the summit.” Before I can continue, they’re both asking questions, rapid-fire.
“A scientist? To study the snow?”
“No! Of course not, probably tree beetles or something boring.”
“Is he spending Christmas in the cabin?”
“What happens if the snow builds up? Uncle Han isn’t here to plow the road!”
“Hold up, let me finish!” I say, hands in the air to indicate they should settle down. “There’s a comet coming overhead this week. Christmas Eve, if I remember correctly. Top of Mt. Frost is supposed to be the best spot within two hundred miles. No light pollution. Dr. Doughty is renting it and will be up there as long as she needs, I guess. But she arrives today, so I’ll need to escort her up there since everyone else is gone. Do you two want to come with me?”
Todd’s eyes narrow, as if the question is a trick he doesn’t know how to get out of. Cliff, of course, looks delighted.
“I didn’t know a woman could be a scientist! I get to meet the first woman scientist!” Cliff throws his small fist in the air in a move of triumph. Todd and I just look at him, concern on both our faces.
“Remind me to talk to your teacher when school’s back in session,” I say, half under my breath, before shoving more pancakes in my mouth. Todd, though, good brother that he is, pulls out his phone and the two of them fall down the rabbit hole of looking up famous women scientists.
Breakfast is forgotten. As is their terrific kitchen mess. Quietly, I leave them to their internet exploration and go wash the dishes, secretly wishing I could hose down the kitchen like it’s a stable.
Cliff’s shout that the lady scientist is here has me shaking my head, wondering how I’m going to explain the plain wonder of my six-year-old at meeting a woman scientist. Woolen hat on, I shove my feet into my boots and head out, remembering to put a smile on my face for the stranger.
Except, I can’t. The stranger, lady scientist, is inside her Honda Civic. The anger at the danger this scientist has already put herself in, and will continue to as she goes up the mountain, is too much. When the face inside sees me, she opens the door and steps out into the driveway, which is mostly shoveled of snow, thanks to Todd. She’s short, plump and curvy, and perfect.
“Good afternoon! I’m Dr. Holly Doughty. I’ve been in contact with Mr. Noel. I’m studying the C/2022 X1 Comet, or the Kringle Comet as it’s been nicknamed, and I’m renting his cabin for a few nights.” Her voice goes up at the end, like she’s asking me a question. Her big round green eyes are locked on me, like I’m the thing she’s supposed to be studying. Beneath the green toque that matches those beautiful eyes, is dark auburn hair that curls down her shoulders.
The breathtaking beauty of her shakes me to my core. Looking at her makes something deep inside me ache. I have to lock away the emotions trying to break free, because I’m too busy trying to figure out the logistics of this disaster in the making. There’s no way she can use that POS car to get to the top of the mountain. Also, she doesn’t know I’m Mr. Noel.
Something buried deep inside me, primal and ravenous, comes to life as I stand in the driveway one meter from her. I haven’t felt this way in years, not since I held newborn Cliff in my arms. This cannot be happening. I cannot let any feelings of attraction or need come to life, break through the dried-out leather of my scarred heart.
“No.” Dr. Doughty actually flinches at the word, like I’ve hurt her. Great. It didn’t mean to come out of my mouth. It was a carefully sealed thought of mine. A note amongst my desk covered in Post-It notes, reminding me I cannot fall apart. Too much rides on my shoulders: this ranch, the people who work here, the animals and land we care for, and my sons.
“Excuse me?” She rubs her hands together. They’re already reddening in the frigid air.
Clearing my throat, I try again. “You can’t drive that car up the mountain. It isn’t safe.” I jab my finger at the offending vehicle, just to emphasize my point. There, that’s a good save.
