“This stew is amazing.” Ginger spooned up a chunk of potato from the thick stew and brought it to her mouth, trying to keep it from dripping on her shirt. “It’s so flavorful. What’s your secret?”
Dorothy smiled, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Well, to start I sear the beef. It locks in the juices and gives the meat a wonderful texture.” She leaned in slightly, as if sharing a treasured secret. “But the real secret is in the spices.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“I use a mix of oregano, basil, rosemary, and parsley to create that classic, comforting taste. Then I add a bit of paprika and cayenne pepper to give it a subtle kick, while celery seed and onion powder enhance the natural flavors of the vegetables. And, of course, I season it with salt and pepper to taste,” Dorothy said with a touch of pride in her voice.
“It’s outstanding. I think I need the recipe.”
“I’ll write it down for you.” Dorothy dabbed her mouth with a napkin before continuing, “Enough about me. Ginger, tell me about your family.”
Ginger hesitated for a moment then replied, “Well, we aren’t that close. Everyone’s spread out across the country, so we don’t see each other often.”
“And do you all get together for Christmas?” Dorothy inquired, her eyes filled with genuine curiosity.
Ginger shrugged, a hint of longing in her voice. “Sometimes, but it’s usually in the Caribbean. I wanted something different this year, some snow and a traditional Christmas.”
Dorothy glanced around the cabin, a slight frown creasing her brow. “You know, there aren’t any Christmas decorations in here. Maybe I can help with that, give you the real feeling of the holiday season.”
Ginger’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. “That sounds wonderful, Dorothy. Thank you.”
Dorothy turned to her son with a mischievous smile. “We can get one of the small trees from the lot.”
Ethan, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, looked up in surprise. “A tree? I don’t think one will fit.”
“Just a small one. It would fit perfectly on that table by the window,” Dorothy insisted, a determined twinkle in her eye. “It wouldn’t be a traditional Christmas without one.”
Ethan hesitated then finally nodded. “Sure. We have plenty of smaller spruces that are in good shape.”
Ginger was heartened at Dorothy’s thoughtfulness. She felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t experienced in years. The warmth of the cabin, the hearty stew, and the snowflakes dancing outside the window all seemed to weave a spell of contentment around her, allowing her to appreciate the simple joys of sharing a meal with new friends despite the fact that her leg ached.
The spell was broken by a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” Dorothy placed a hand on Ginger’s shoulder and walked the short distance to the door.
It was a tall, portly man with graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in a suit despite the late hour.
“Mayor Thompson.” Dorothy sounded surprised. “What brings you here at suppertime?”
Ginger sensed a hint of history in Dorothy’s voice, as if the mayor was an old friend that hadn’t kept in touch. Probably something to do with Ethan’s father’s death, Ginger surmised. It would make sense a prominent businessman like Ethan’s dad would know the mayor.
“I’m sorry I haven’t visited in some time, Dorothy. I saw the lights on and thought I’d get an update on the tree for the Christmas Eve lighting.” The mayor’s tone was somewhat apologetic but also tinged with authority as his gaze slid over Dorothy’s shoulder to Ethan, who had come to stand behind his mother. “I’ve been in communication with Ethan as I used to do with Charlie. I thought I would stop by and maybe get a look at the tree for the Christmas Eve lighting. I’ve made some calls to other tree farms, so if the Woodwards won’t have a tree for the lighting—”
Ginger wheeled over abruptly, knocking into a side table and almost toppling a lamp, which Ethan deftly caught. Her action stopped the mayor midsentence.
“Good evening, Mayor. I’mDr.Sanders.” She emphasized the word “doctor” and held out her hand. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out what was going on here. Everyone knew balsams were the epitome of Christmas trees. Apparently the mayor had previously wanted to see a tree, but since the balsams were the ones with the problem, Ethan had been reluctant to show him one. She wasn’t about to let the mayor bully the Woodwards.
Mayor Thompson’s left brow rose. “Doctor? Is someone ill?”
Ginger smiled up at him. “Not that kind of doctor. PhD. I’m a tree scientist.”
“Oh.” Mayor Thompson looked like he wasn’t sure what to say, so Ginger continued. “I’m an expert on fir trees. The Woodwards have hired me to make sure all the trees are in tip-top shape, including the perfect balsam for the tree lighting.”
Ethan and Dorothy exchanged surprised glances but quickly played along. “That’s right, Mayor. We’re all working together to make sure this year’s tree is the best,” Dorothy chimed in with a reassuring smile. “It’s the least we can do to honor Charlie.”
“Oh. Then you have one picked out?” the mayor asked.
“Yes,” Ginger answered quickly. “But you can’t see it yet. I’m treating it with exomethachloride to bring out the lush green of the leaves, and it’s got goop all over it.”
