they’d arrived, Kirstie smiled. “I’ll fetch one from the kitchen.”
She was back moments later with a suitably shaped carrot, and Ella left Michael to continue thawing the frozen Kirstie, and stepped out the front door.
The overnight fall of snow had turned the grounds into a magical shimmering landscape. The storm had left the trees thickly coated, the driveway and the lawns leading down to the loch transformed into a field of white streaked with silver as the sun danced across the ice crystals.
Ella breathed in the crisp air and curled her hands into fists to warm them against the icy bite of the winter weather.
She smelled woodsmoke and the sharp aroma of pine and fir. She was dazzled by silver and snow and realized that this was the atmosphere they all tried to re-create in their homes. People bought fake trees covered in fake snow in an attempt to reproduce the wintry charm of the forest. Only now did she realize what a poor imitation it really was.
She glanced back at the lodge. Snow clung to the turrets and a curl of smoke emerged from one of the chimneys. It was a completely perfect place to spend Christmas.
If she could find a way to heal things with her mother, then maybe everything would turn out well.
Two pairs of footsteps, one much larger than the other, wound their way through the otherwise pristine surface, and she followed the trail around the house and found Tab and her mother engrossed in the construction of their snowman.
“He needs a bigger head.” Tab smacked the snow with her hand and then glanced up. “Mommy!”
Ella’s heart melted. “Hi there! Having fun?”
“Yes. I wanted to bring Bear but we couldn’t find him.” Tab stroked and smoothed the snowman.
“You’ve been busy.”
Her mother’s cheeks were pink. “You didn’t have to join us. You could have slept in. I thought you and Michael could probably use some time together.”
In any other circumstances it would have been a thoughtful gesture. But her mother wasn’t a regular babysitter, and this wasn’t a normal situation.
“I woke up and found Tab’s room empty.” Ella dug her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I didn’t know where she was.”
“She was with me.”
“But—” She doesn’t know you. “I was worried, that’s all.”
“She’s not likely to come to much harm in a place like this.”
Ella glanced around the snowy wilderness. It would take a year to list the number of potential accidents. She took a deep breath and remembered Michael’s words.
Explain to her in a rational, mature way, that you were concerned.
She opened her mouth and closed it again.
Why, when it came to her own mother, was it so hard to vocalize the things that mattered to her?
“Tab is very active. Unpredictable. She loves to climb and explore.”
“That’s good. It’s how a child gains confidence and a sense of the world.”
Ella wanted to explain to her mother how hard she had worked to stay balanced on the tightrope that stretched between encouragement and caution.
Should she confess that when her instinct failed her, she thought about her mother’s parenting style and did the opposite? No. Despite the choppy past, she genuinely wanted to heal their relationship. And their situations had been different. Her mother had been alone. Ella couldn’t begin to imagine how she would have coped in the same circumstances.
“It is good, but it’s also a little scary. She doesn’t know her own limitations.”
“Limitations are often in the mind. They’re what stop us from moving forward. Fear is a powerful set of brakes.”
The comment was so typical of her mother. Push your boundaries. Never listen to no. As if everything was a battle. Man against life, or in this case Woman against life.
It could have been taken straight from Choice Not Chance, not that Ella had read it. Like her sister, she’d decided it would leave a bitter taste in her mouth.
Maybe it was time to push her own boundaries.
“Not knowing your limitations isn’t a good thing when you’re playing close to a deep lake and a dark forest.” It sounded as if she was reading from a children’s book designed to thrill and scare young minds. There was a deep lake and a dark forest. “She needs to be watched.”
Her mother was about to scoop up snow, but she paused and straightened. “I’ve been watching her every second. I’d never let anything happen to her.”
And now she felt mean and small. “Of course you wouldn’t intentionally. But you don’t—I mean you’re not—” How should