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She sneaked another look at Mabel, wondering what her story was. She obviously liked cats. Brooke had counted three, but now she noticed a fourth playing with the lace of Elsie’s boot in the hallway. Four cats. But what about family? Brooke had seen no sign of anyone else, but it was possible they could be in another part of the house. Maybe Mabel didn’t celebrate Christmas. Maybe she thought it was all a lot of fuss and bother.

Right now, Brooke might even have agreed with her. All those lists. All the planning. All the nights she’d lain awake, mentally running through her to-do list. And now this.

So much for the perfect Christmas.

Brooke glanced at the window and saw that if anything, the snow was worsening.

It came down thick as a blanket, forming a barrier between them and the world outside. It was hard to remember that there was a world outside. She was becoming used to the furious howl of the wind. And then she heard a different sound.

A rumble and a deep, menacing boom.

“What was that?” Brooke sat up straighter and looked at Matt. “Was it thunder?”

Matt had Poppy on his lap again and was playing her favourite game, which involved pretending to let her slide off his legs and then grabbing her at the last second. Her hot chocolate sat half-drunk on the table.

Normally, Poppy’s laughter was infectious, but Brooke was too tense from everything that had gone before to be infected by anything but anxiety.

“It didn’t sound like thunder.” Matt set Poppy on her feet and stood up.

“What was it, then?”

He looked at her. “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say someone just slammed into the back of our car.”

7

Mabel

Another accident?

The universe was having a joke, surely?

An hour ago she’d been preparing herself to spend a quiet Christmas alone with the cats and a good book, and now she seemed to be entertaining on a grand scale.

Who were these people who had decided to defy warnings, disengage common sense and continue to drive along roads that were no longer fit for vehicles?

Matt was reaching for his coat, still wet from his last struggle through the snow.

“I’d better go and see what’s happened.”

“Wait!” Brooke caught his arm. “It’s lethal out there, Matt. The snow is so deep it’s almost impossible to walk. The wind is howling and the visibility is zero.”

“They might be hurt, Brooke.” He gently unpeeled her fingers from his arm. “They might need help.”

“I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine.” His gaze softened. “Keep the doors closed and keep the girls warm. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“You hope.”

He kissed her briefly. “I know.”

Mabel watched this exchange with interest. Matt reminded her a little of Walter. Walter had always refused to let life get him down. He’d taken everything in his stride, whereas she stumbled and tripped and had to fight to stay upright. Even after everything that had happened, Walter had continued to spring out of bed every morning, determined to greet the day, whereas she’d lain there, wondering whether there was any point in greeting a day that felt empty and bleak.

She didn’t know Matt, but she didn’t want anything to happen to him, either.

“Wait—” She went to the mudroom that lay between the kitchen and the backyard and the forest. Walter’s coat was hanging there where she’d left it, and her heart gave a little kick. She hadn’t moved it. Hadn’t touched it. She’d left it exactly where it was so that she passed it on her way out to the garden and again on her way back in. It was as if it was waiting there for Walter to pick it up.

She could hear his voice saying, I’m just going into the forest for a short time.