One Charmed Christmas - Sheila Roberts Page 0,35

This was a genuine, happy one, and Sophie hoped she’d see more of those as the trip went on.

The windmill looked massive until you got inside it. “The family who lived in this had thirteen children,” said their tour guide.

“Childbirth thirteen times?” Sophie said weakly. “That poor woman.”

“Because of the high fatality rate of children, a miller needed a large family to make sure there would be enough labor to work the mill and the surrounding farms,” the guide continued.

“Think of having fifteen people squished together inside this living space,” Sierra said, looking around.

It was, indeed, small, and everything was set up around the giant wheel at the center that turned the windmill blades. The ground floor had a kitchen of sorts with a small, white enamel stove. Shelves held pots and bowls. A tiny bed that looked more like a train berth was tucked into a cupboard on one wall, with a curtain hung for privacy. A small table sat by a window and it held an old-fashioned sewing machine. Sophie wondered how people managed to live together in such a small space as she walked around with the rest of the tour group.

“I feel like a sardine looking for a place to lie down in the can,” she said to her sister.

“I think I’d get claustrophobia,” said Sierra.

Sophie eyed the steep stairs with their narrow treads that led to the next level. “I wonder if those fatalities she mentioned were from kids falling down the stairs.”

More people were coming in and Sophie caught sight of a couple of the college students. The next wave. Was Trevor March with them? Not that it mattered.

She heard Rudy’s laugh coming down from the next level up and turned to see the newcomer, Charlie, climbing upstairs, right behind Denise. The good doctor and Catherine had to already be up there. She who hesitated was lost. Sophie hurried to join them.

“You’re wasting your time,” her sister said behind her.

“I’m just going up to see what the next level looks like.”

A frail-looking grandma type wearing a long coat and snow boots was coming down the stairs as Sophie was about to go up, so Sophie waited. The woman was almost down when she lost her footing. Sophie saw it and rushed to steady her.

“Thank you,” the woman said, looking at her like she was a superhero. “I’d have hated to fall and break something, especially at the beginning of my cruise.”

“You sure would,” Sophie said in agreement as she helped the woman down. “Enjoy the rest of the cruise,” she said in farewell, and hurried up the stairs to the next level, where she found Rudy and company.

It looked as cramped as the ground-floor level, with more beds stuffed into cupboards.

“Can you imagine living such a simple life?” Catherine said to Sophie as she came to stand next to her.

She would have stood on the other side of Rudy, but his daughter was firmly in place there.

“A little too simple for me,” Sophie said. Where were the closets? Where did people put their clothes? “And I thought my apartment was small. Yikes.”

“Well, a person doesn’t need a lot to be happy,” Catherine said.

“Do you really believe that?” Athena asked, sounding almost skeptical.

“Yes, I do. It’s not about what you have but who you’re with.”

Sierra had joined them in time to hear that and the smile she’d been wearing vanished like a leaf on the wind. If only Mark would check in. Then maybe her sister could enjoy herself.

“I’ll second that,” Charlie said, grinning at Denise. “Who you’re with makes all the difference.”

“Yes, it does,” Sophie said to Sierra. “Come on, let’s take a selfie for Mom.”

Sierra went along with the picture taking, then eventually followed Sophie to the top level of the windmill. Here they could see the wheel that turned the blades close-up. It was an enormous, impressive thing, moving slowly, a reminder that once upon a time life moved at a slower pace.

Sophie was disappointed that no one from their party had joined her other than her sister.

“Catherine’s nervous about the stairs,” Sierra reported. “She decided she’d gone far enough.”

“She missed out,” Sophie said. “This is the most impressive part of the windmill.”

But when it came time to go back down she found herself wishing she hadn’t climbed to the top level. Those stairs were sooo steep, and the treads way too narrow. A person could fall, break a leg. Or a back.

“Why did they have to make these so steep?” she

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