AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Some placesnever leave you no matter how long you’ve been gone. I left Whispering Winds over a decade ago, but there hasn’t been a day that I thought of the mountains, my friends, and the old life I’d left behind to live with my grandpa a few states over.
A part of me always knew I’d come back. The other part resisted because I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I returned. It’s not easy coming home to the town that took your parents. To the home that used to be filled with so much joy and happiness. The first time I stepped inside my childhood home I could only stay a few minutes before I had to leave and book another night at the Inn.
Too many memories. Most of them were good but when the people who shared them with you are no longer around, it felt like I was opening up an old wound. I thought I’d mended it over the years, but some wounds never heal. They might scar over but the damage remains.
It’s strange how certain smells can dredge up long-forgotten memories. How some seemingly insignificant object like clock or fountain pen or a painting can pull me back into a different time. Everywhere I looked I saw a part of me, my mom, my dad, and the life we shared.
Before my grandpa passed he made me a promise to return. I reluctantly agreed but pushed off the decision until Aiden contacted me. We used to build forts together in the mountains of Whispering Winds, pretending to be like the mountain men we saw around town. A few of them befriended us, showing us where to fish and forage and helped us with our forts.
My parents lived in a tamer part of the mountains, but I always wanted to live higher in the mountains, living off the land in a cabin I built myself. Aiden did that, and he was expanding into building rentals. When he offered me a joint partnership with him and his wife, I jumped at the chance. This was my opportunity to live out my dream. It was finally time to come home.
Thankfully, I returned when I did because the house was falling into a state of disrepair. At some point, the handyman my grandfather and I had been paying for routine maintenance stopped working. It could’ve been avoided if I sold the house, but I never could pull the trigger.
I’ve spent the last few months fixing up the house, working on cabins with Aiden, and building my own. Most of my time has been spent with Aiden, so the other projects have moved ahead at a snail’s pace. With the holiday season in full swing, construction has stopped, so I’ve been able to pay attention to both of my projects. But it’s a little too late.
The heat pump in my parents’ home finally gave out and a tree I’d been putting off cutting down took out part of the roof in an ice storm. I’ve made a few patchwork fixes but it’s not enough to make it habitable during winter. Everything I need is either back-ordered or delayed, so without the rental cabin, I’d be roughing it in frigid temperatures or losing my mind to the constant thrum of Christmas music at the Inn.
Thankfully, it hasn’t come to that. I’ll be spending Christmas in the mountains alone and I can’t think of anything better.
* * *
Unfortunately,as I pull up to the cabin I’ve been living in for the past month, I’m not the only one here.
That shouldn’t be there.
I ease to a stop next to the bright red Subaru parked in my spot. It’s not Aiden’s truck. It’s not Juliet’s car either. It doesn’t belong to anyone I know or want to know for at least one reason: Whoever owns the car believed it was a good idea to turn their rear windshield wiper into a candy cane. And the license plate? XMASEVA.
I’ve never met this person but I already have an image in my head: They’re wearing an obnoxious Christmas sweater, a reindeer antler hat, and the acrid smell of eggnog seeps from their pores as they hum Christmas carols to themself.
This is the last thing I want to deal with at the end of a long day, spent mostly troubleshooting the busted heater at my parents’ house. Nothing I tried worked and my fingers were nearly icicles by the time I finally accepted defeat. The house won’t get any heat until the replacement arrives but of course, it’s been delayed until after Christmas.
Snow crunches beneath my boots as I slowly walk around the unknown vehicle, searching for what, I’m not sure. I guess I’m confused and hoping for answers. No one should be here. The only booking has been canceled. Right?
Shit. Did Aiden not check? My jaw tightens as I rub the back of my neck, wondering if I should call Juliet. It’s no use though. There’s no cell service at this cabin, and I’ll get my answer soon enough.
“Seriously?” I mutter.
There’s a big red ball on the grill of the car but there’s only one antler. Hopefully, it didn’t cause an accident whenever it flew off. Christmas fanatics are a different breed. I tend to keep my distance but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to escape them.
That should change once my cabin’s built. It’s little more than a skeletal frame, boarded up to keep out the weather and wild animals. Once it’s done, I won’t step foot in Whispering Winds from Halloween until the new year because Christmas begins on November 1st and ends sometime in January.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do about my current situation, but I’m not liking my options. The steps creak as I slowly make my way to the front door, an oversized wreath hanging from it.
That shouldn’t be there. And neither should the sound of music.
I haven’t touched the door handle and already I hear it.Thesong. The song I’ve already heard a half dozen times today through no effort on my part. The song that haunts my dreams and creates waking nightmares for me.
As soon as I open the door, every single sense in my body ignites. I’m being hit from all angles by Christmas. Lights that weren’t hanging from the mantle when I left twinkle menacingly at me. The smell of spiced cider and balsam and sugar cookies is so strong that I’m pretty sure all the fine hairs in my nostrils are singed. And to make matters worse, I hear someone in the back bedroom, belting out the song. It’s muted, but there’s no mistaking it.
“Sweet Jesus,” I mutter to myself, my limbs refusing to move as I try to comprehend what’s happening here. I’d only been gone a few hours. Was this little elf waiting for me to leave? There’s Christmas decorations, and then there’sthis.
A slight jingling of bells comes from the couch as I take another step inside the door. I look at the couch and a dog dressed in a gaudy Christmas sweater rounds the corner and trots over to me, panting as he sits in front of me.
“I’m sorry, little guy,” I say, kneeling to give him a few good pets and remove the reindeer antler headband from him. I toss it and he flops to his side, inviting me to rub his belly. Gratitude for my kindness, I’m sure.
“Don’t you worry,” I say, stroking him as his hind leg kicks. “I’ll burn the antlers in the wood stove and see to it that you never have to endure another day with…”
Holy shit. Was that an angel?
