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Elsie paused with a cookie halfway to her mouth. “Are we going to eat Granny’s favourite shortbread?”

“If we need to. It depends. In an emergency, yes.” Brooke finished emptying the gift basket and tucked it out of the way in Mabel’s mudroom.

Matt glanced at her. “How did it go with your mother?”

“Fine.” Brooke closed the door to keep out the cold. She didn’t look at him.

Matt wiped snow from his neck with his hand, his gaze fixed on her face. “That bad?”

“They were pleased to hear we’re all okay, obviously.”

The strained smile on Brooke’s face suggested a stressful conversation.

Mabel could imagine how it might have gone. Brooke’s mother had probably been looking forward to Christmas for a long time. She’d been expecting her child home for the holidays, and now she wouldn’t be seeing her. That was more than a disappointment. That was an emotional blow.

There was a gnawing pain in her ribs.

Matt nodded. “Did you tell her we’re not going to make it?”

“Yes, I did. Naturally, she wasn’t thrilled.” Brooke gave a helpless shrug. “There’s nothing I can do about it. And of course, I feel terrible, but—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. We can’t control the weather. And at least we’re safe and warm and with Mabel.” She flashed Mabel a grateful smile, and Mabel wanted to say that yes, her mother was probably heartbroken but that was her problem and she needed to learn to handle it because when you had children you had to let them go, even when you wanted to keep them close. You had to let them live their own lives even when the life they chose wasn’t what you would have wanted for them. Or for yourself. But the words stuck in her throat. She didn’t know these people. No one would be interested in her observations.

“We may be safe, but I’m not warm.” Matt was still shivering. “It’s bitterly cold out there.”

“I’ll make you and Jason a hot drink,” Mabel said. It was all she seemed to have done since they arrived. Make hot drinks. It was like running a café. But it also felt good, caring for people. Being part of something. She’d spent so long telling herself she was okay by herself, she hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it.

“I can do that, Mabel. I don’t want you waiting on us.” Brooke helped her and together they made more tea. “Time to get started on those chicken pot-pies. Do I have any helpers?”

“I can make them,” Mabel said, and Elsie sprang off her chair.

“I’ll help. I can chop the mushrooms. Can we make it together? It would be fun.”

Fun.

Mabel felt a tug inside her. The slow uncurling of a longing she’d suppressed. She was looking at what her life might have been. Everyone gathered together, helping in the kitchen. Small hands. Big smiles. Eager expressions. Family.

She took a shaky breath.

“Yes,” she said. “That would be fun.”

In the end, everyone joined in and while Jason was frying chicken, Brooke and Elsie chopped leeks and mushrooms and made the sauce while Mabel rolled out pastry.

Izzy set the table in the kitchen.

“It’s strange spending Christmas with people you don’t know.” Brooke paused in the middle of her chopping and put her knife down. “Perhaps we should share a little information about ourselves. Does anyone have any special skills? For example, is anyone a chef?”

“Don’t look at me.” Izzy held up her hands. “I live alone. I mean, I can cook—but the thought of catering for seven makes me hyperventilate, although I’ll be a willing helper if I’m given instructions. But I can decorate. Decorating is my thing. And I’m good at making things. I can sew. So I can turn this place into a Christmas wonderland if I have Mabel’s permission.”

A Christmas wonderland? How?

Mabel was about to say that perhaps a few candles might do the trick when she saw Elsie’s and Poppy’s faces. “Of course.” She croaked the words out. “Decorate the house in any way you like.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d agreed to, but what harm could it do?

Izzy glanced at Jason. “Did you manage to bring all the boxes from the car?”