“Schatzi mentioned that you lost your wife, so I’m assuming she told you I’m a widow.”
“She did.”
“Do you ever...” Maddie began, her voice hesitant. “Do you ever get used to it? The quiet, I mean. From being without them?”
Sam was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on a gap in the trees where the distant horizon was visible. The sun was sinking lower in the sky and painting the edges of the clouds gold. When he spoke, his voice was low and thoughtful.
“No,” he said finally. “You don’t get used to it. But you learn to live with it. Some days are easier than others. Some days...the quiet isn’t so bad. But there are days when it hits you out of nowhere, and all you want is to hear their voice again. To have one more conversation. One more moment.”
Boy, did Maddie feel that. She nodded, understanding more than she wanted to. She had spent the last few years learning how to live with the quiet, with the empty space that Jack hadleft behind. But some days, like today, the grief felt as fresh as it had the day she’d lost him.
“I think that’s what scares me,” Maddie admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The idea that I’ll never stop missing him.”
Sam looked at her then, his brown eyes filled with a kind of quiet understanding. “You won’t,” he said gently. “But missing him doesn’t mean you can’t still find happiness. It just takes time.”
Maddie bit her lip, feeling the sting of tears threatening to rise. She hadn’t cried in front of anyone in a long time. She had learned how to keep her grief private, how to hide the pain behind a mask of strength. But standing here, in the middle of the snow-covered woods, with the cold biting at her skin and Sam’s quiet, steady presence beside her, she felt the walls she’d built around herself begin to fracture.
“Sometimes I wonder if I even remember how to be happy,” she confessed, her voice trembling as she fought her emotions.
Sam didn’t say anything for a long moment, his gaze shifting back to the woods around them.
When he spoke, his voice was soft, almost lost in the cold air. “Happiness doesn’t have to be big, Maddie. It doesn’t have to be some grand thing. It can be a small thing—a walk in the snow, a cup of coffee in the morning, the way the fire crackles when you’re sitting near it. Sometimes, it’s just about finding the little things that remind you life is still worth living.”
Maddie swallowed hard, letting his words settle over her. She hadn’t thought about happiness in such a long time, hadn’t allowed herself to even consider it. Happiness after losing Jack felt traitorous, even though she knew Jack would want her to be happy. But maybe Sam was right. Maybe happiness didn’t have to be something she chased. Maybe it was something she could find in the quiet moments, in the small things.
“I’ll try to remember that,” she said softly, her breath coming out in a little breath of icy vapor.
Sam nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Good. Because you deserve it. We all do.”
They stood in silence for a few more minutes, the sky darkening around them as the sun dipped lower behind the mountains. Fargo trotted over, his nose wet and cold as he nudged Maddie’s hand, and she scratched behind his ears, wishing she could feel the softness of his fur, but her gloves prevented that.
Sam cleared his throat. “I should probably get back before it gets too dark. But if you ever want company on one of these walks...”
Maddie smiled, the warmth of his offer chasing away some of the lingering chill. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As Sam and Fargo made their way back down the path, Maddie stood still for a few more moments, watching as their figures disappeared into the trees. The cold had seeped deep into her bones, but she didn’t feel as alone as she had before.
Turning to head back to the house, Maddie let herself breathe in the peacefulness of the mountains. The snow crunched beneath her boots, the air carried the aroma of someone’s delicious dinner being cooked nearby, and, off in the distance, an owl hooted.
She didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, Maddie felt like maybe, just maybe, there was room for something more in her life—something beyond the grief, beyond the loss.
There had to be, because what kind of existence was she facing otherwise? As she made her way back to Aunt Schatzi’s warm, welcoming house, she let herself hope while also reconsidering her reluctance to call Becca.
Chapter Six
Sitting in a chair by the window in her bedroom, Maddie stared at the phone for what felt like an eternity, her finger hovering over Becca’s name on the screen. One tap and the phone would dial. The memory of the earlier ignored call lingered, that gnawing sense of guilt creeping back in. She knew it was time to do something about that guilt. To stop avoiding Becca.
After all, Schatzi had been right—family was important, even if it sometimes felt like they were miles apart emotionally.
Taking a deep breath, Maddie pressed the call button, bracing herself for whatever was about to follow. The phone rang only twice before Becca’s familiar voice came through, a little breathless.
“Maddie? Hey! I was just thinking you didn’t want to talk to me.” Becca’s laugh was light, maybe a little forced, but Maddie could hear the tension beneath it. Her sister had actually thought Maddie was dodging her.
Maddie felt worse than she had a second ago because that’s exactly what she had been doing.
“Yeah, sorry. Things have been...kind of intense lately,” Maddie said, trying to find the words. She swallowed hard,feeling the familiar lump of grief rise in her throat. “Being at Aunt Schatzi’s has brought a lot of memories back.”
“I bet,” Becca said. Somewhere in the background, a small dog barked. Becca’s Yorkie, no doubt, Little Bit. “Hush, Bitty,” Becca called out, her voice slightly muffled, probably from her hand over the phone.
