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She pushed out a breath. She was being very stupid. She’d learned a lot in the last ten years, grown up a lot, seen far too much of the world. She loved her travels and the people she’d met, but she’d also seen a lot of sadness and devastation. She’d turned to God for help and strength when she had no one else to turn to. She now understood why her parents wanted to instill faith and heaven’s love into her. It protected and lifted her daily.
After her nightmarish experience in the village of Bampf, high in the mountains of Banida, hiding from King Frederick’s soldiers while they murdered the men, hauled off the women, and destroyed the village. She’d spent six weeks isolated, terrified, and trying to comfort, feed, and protect the children in her care. She’d yearned for home and Ammon the entire time. She’d stayed strong and fought coming back to Summit Valley for the past couple of months but Avalyn hadn’t given her a choice about Christmas. Her boss and friend knew how bone weary she was. She wished she could stay after Christmas. She could only imagine the comfort, peace, and safety of living in this idyllic valley again, surrounded by family and friends.
But moving home still wasn’t her path, and seeing Ammon Jardine on a regular basis, without being in his arms, would rip her apart. She was trying to be full of faith and trust the Lord’s ways not her own. All she longed for was to be here, surrounded by safety and love. Instead she had an appointment she knew she’d make. December twenty-sixth she was flying back to Bampf. The villagers had requested her to be the one to organize the rebuilding efforts and she’d heard the priest, one of the few men who’d survived King Frederick’s regime, say the children cried for Ivy. She had no choice but to go. Maybe someday her inspiration would change and she could come home.
She pulled down the visor and slid open the mirror. The light was glaring in the dark night and made her olive-toned skin look almost ghostly. Her eyeliner, mascara, and lip shine all looked fine though. She’d heard how beautiful she was from men throughout the world, but she only wanted to be beautiful and an “angel” to one man. The man she’d said bratty and selfish things to before she left town ten years ago and never called or made any effort to reconcile with. Was this Christmas her time to at least apologize? She’d lost her brave and a lot of her sass cowering in a crypt beneath the church in Banida with her arms around teenage girls who would’ve been violated if any of them cried out.
Ammon. Think of Ammon. He was the happy spot in her thoughts often. Ammon was funny and loved to tease but he was solidly good and humble too. Did he recognize she’d been so feisty with him ten years ago because she was heartbroken to leave him behind? In her eighteen-year old mind he should’ve jumped at the chance to come with her, to see the world together. She’d been immature and selfish to demand either of him. Especially as he’d prayed about it, just as she had, and knew where his spot in life was. She had the utmost respect for Ammon. His devotion to family, to God, and to this valley was admirable. If only it didn’t still hurt. She’d wanted a romantic dream of him declaring his love and either throwing everything to the wind to go with her or begging her to stay and telling her he couldn’t live without her, but he couldn’t leave either.
It was all silly now and should be water under the bridge. In her communion with God she knew her travels, experiences, pain, and joy over the past ten years were right for her and had taught her so much. Most of all she had a deeply grateful heart for how blessed she and her family were, and she loved God and trusted her Savior completely. She’d needed her path. If only it had taken Ammon from her.
She took a deep breath, said a prayer, and shoved open the door. The bite of cold, winter night air stung her cheeks. Besides those awful months in Banida’s war zone, she spent most of her time in the Caribbean, central and southern America, or Africa. She wasn’t used to the cold anymore. At least her coat from high school still fit and her gloves and hat would help. She zipped her coat, tugged her gloves and hat on, and stepped out of the car.
The party going on inside and outside the ski resort lit up the chilly December night. A full moon beaming down on it all made it picture perfect. Christmas joy she wished she was a part of. She could not believe she’d let Gramma Larue talk her into coming to the shortest day of the year party. It was a Summit Valley tradition. Night skiing, tubing, hot cocoa and cookies provided by the church outside the lodge, a buffet inside the restaurant for ten dollars each, a bargain for a meal nowadays, Santa waiting inside the huge gathering area that Jace and Ammon had added on to their lodge. People from town as well as all the out-of-towners at the resort looked to be enjoying the night.
She peered up at the lodge. It was massive now and absolutely beautiful. It sprawled with new suites on the west end and the gathering area on the east. The two-story windows showcased the open area with impressive wood work and numerous fireplaces and groupings of leather couches. From what she understood they hosted weddings and other events as well. The resort now boasted five regular ski lifts, two of them express lifts, and two gondolas. It looked like Jace and Ammon had been busy and Ammon’s dreams had all come true.
Without her.
She walked on wooden-feeling legs through the parking lot. Gramma Larue had come by her parents’ house and cussed her for not being at the party. Gramma was typically a sweetheart but she could let you have it. The words were still stinging Ivy’s ears and making her want to fight back more than she had.
Gramma had told her in no uncertain terms, “I didn’t know my gorgeous, accomplished, and smart granddaughter, who is brave enough to travel the world, help refugees and children in need, protect untold children from the evil likes of King Frederick’s troops,” that was information Gramma shouldn’t have, “could be such a wimp and hide out every time she comes to visit because she’s scared to run into that fine-looking Ammon Jardine and admit she made a mistake ditching the perfect man for her ten years ago.”
Ivy had fired right back, “I’m not scared, I just have no desire to watch Ammon Jardine fight off the horde of women Abigail tells me are always following him around.” That had been much too telling.
Gramma’s eyes had softened and her voice as well. “Love … if you hadn’t broken his heart Ammon would never have looked twice at any other woman.”
But she had broken his heart. She knew it. He’d been too kind to even say anything hurtful that awful day she left him ten years ago. She’d been so excited for the opportunity and adventure and she knew she’d made the right choice. Many people had to sacrifice to follow God’s will for them.
Yet Ammon saying, “I’ll miss you” had rang through her brain so many times over the years. Did he still miss her? Doubtful. At least she’d never got the news she’d feared, him getting married. Single meant available. If only she wasn’t leaving again in five days.
She steeled her spine. Of course she had made the right choice. She’d lost track of how many countries she’d visited but there weren’t many around the globe she hadn’t touched down on at some point. She’d learned about cultures and history that touched her heart and taught her lessons learned no other way. She’d helped children and families throughout the world and made lifelong friendships with the Hawk family and many others who were incredible people. She’d also increased her own faith. That faith had been her lifeline throughout August and September in Bampf. She wouldn’t have done any of that staying in Summit Valley. But losing Ammon forever … it was a steep price to pay.
So she’d let Gramma Larue push her to go to this party. It was a certainty she’d run into Ammon before the night was over. It was his resort after all and he was so responsible she didn’t know if he’d ever left home for longer than a weekend’s vacation. Great guy. But obviously not a fit for a world traveler like herself. A world traveler who would be happy never to set foot on another airplane.
“Ivy!” Abigail had spotted her first. Her eighteen-year old cousin wore a tight sweater that showed off her tan and toned midriff, thin leggings, and knee-high boots.
Abigail hugged her and beamed. The girl was sunshine. That had to be why she wasn’t freezing to death in her crazy getup.
“I’m so glad you came. Are you skiing or tubing? Do you want to find Ammon? Melene told me you still love him. Oh, goodness he’s such a hunk.” She licked her lips and winked. “You’re way prettier than any of the girls he’s dated. You can win him back so easy! Come on, I’ll take you to find him.” Abigail tugged at her arm.
“I’ll just walk around and say hi to people,” Ivy said quickly. She didn’t need Abigail dragging her to Ammon and possibly saying something to embarrass one or both of them. She was going to have words with Melene. Would her sweetheart of a cousin truly say something to Abigail about her and Ammon?
“Okay. Come find me when you’re ready to ski or tube and we’ll go together. Ah, you’re so pretty and I’m so glad you’re here!” Abigail hugged her.
“Thanks, sweetie.” Ivy walked up the gradual slope toward the lodge, her gaze darting around for Ammon. Despite her claiming she didn’t want to see him.
“Lieutenant Van,” she heard Abigail shriek. “Hello, you hot military stud you.”
Ivy looked around. Who was Lieutenant Van? A handsome, well-built guy with short dark hair and a confident smile was edging away from Abigail.
“You’re growing your hair out. I loved you bald but you’re even hotter with hair,” Abigail purred even as she said the words much too loud.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got to … meet up with Cap and Mia. Have you seen them?”
“They’re eating in the lodge. I’ll take you.” Abigail looped her arm through his.
The lieutenant deftly removed her arm and said, “It’s okay. I know the way. Thanks.” He walked quickly up the slope. Abigail watched him go with a calculated longing in her eyes. Oh, boy. That guy was in trouble and he looked to be at least ten years older than Abigail. She loved her cousin but wished somebody could rein her in. Even Gramma Larue had no luck teaching or chastising Abigail. Melene worried about her youngest sister and bemoaned that she wouldn’t at least go to college or something. Being around with-it and fun people her own age would be a great thing for Abigail.
