reached for his robe. “I’m not going to ask if you want to talk about it, because you never do.”
And this time was no different.
She couldn’t stop the nightmares, but she could prevent the darkness from creeping into her waking hours. It was her way of taking back control. “You should go back to sleep.”
“We both know there’s no going back to sleep after you have one of your dreams. And we have to be up in an hour anyway.” His hair was standing on end and his eyes were rimmed with fatigue. “We have a group of twenty arriving at the Adventure Centre this morning. It’s going to be busy. I might as well make an early start.”
“Are they experienced?”
“No. School party on an outdoor adventure week.”
Anxiety washed over her. Her instinct was to beg him not to go, but that would have meant giving in to fear. It also would have meant asking Stewart to give up doing something he loved and she wouldn’t do that. “Be careful.”
“I always am.” Stewart kissed her and walked to the door. “Coffee?”
“Please.” The thought of staying in bed held no appeal. “I’ll take a quick shower and then start planning.”
“Planning what?”
“Only a man would ask that. You think Christmas happens by itself?” She belted her robe, knowing from experience that activity was the best way to drive the shadows from her head. “It’s only a few weeks away. I want to do all the preparation beforehand so I can spend as much time as possible with our grandchildren. I thought I’d buy a few extra games in case the weather is bad. I don’t want them to be bored. They have so much to do in Manhattan.”
“If they’re bored, they can help with the animals. They can feed the chickens with Posy, or round up the sheep. They can ride Socks.”
Socks was Posy’s pony. Now eighteen, he was enjoying a well-earned, hay-filled retirement in the fields that surrounded the lodge.
“Beth gets nervous when they ride.”
Stewart shook his head. “A lot of things make Beth nervous. She is overprotective, we both know that. Kids don’t break that easily.”
“As if you weren’t the most protective father ever. Particularly with her.”
He gave a sheepish grin. “Posy was like a little ball. She bounced. Beth was a delicate little thing.”
“She’s always been a daddy’s girl. And if she is an overprotective mother, then we both know why.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t understand, but you’ve got to let kids have some fun. Explore. Make mistakes. Live life.”
“Easier said than done.” Suzanne knew she was overprotective, too. “I’ll talk to Beth. Try to persuade her to let the girls ride. And if the weather is bad, they can help in the kitchen. We can do some baking.”
“Here’s a radical idea…” Stewart picked up his empty whiskey glass from the night before. “Instead of planning everything and driving yourself crazy with stress, why don’t you keep it relaxed this year? Stop trying so hard.”
Suzanne’s mouth dropped open. “You think food magically appears? You think Santa really does deliver gifts already wrapped?”
But the comment was so typical of him, it made her laugh. To an outsider they probably seemed ridiculously traditional, but her life was exactly the way she wanted it to be.
“I’ll have you know that the key to relaxation is planning. I want it to be special.” The fact that it was the only time the three girls were together increased the pressure for it to be perfect. She walked to the window, pulled back the curtains and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. From the window of her bedroom she had a view right down the glen. The snow was luminous, reflecting the muted glow of the moon and sending flickers of light across the still surface of the loch. Framing the loch was snow-dusted forest and behind that the mountains rose, dominating everything with their deadly beauty.
Even knowing the danger waiting in those snowy peaks, she was still drawn to them. She could never live anywhere that didn’t have mountains, but she no longer did any winter climbing. She and Stewart took low-level hikes in the winter, and longer, more ambitious hikes in the spring and summer when the weather warmed and the snow receded.
“Was it selfish of us to move here? Should we have lived in a city?”
“No. And you need to stop thinking like that.” His voice was rough. “It’s the dream. You know it’s the dream.”
She did know. She loved living here, in this land of mist and mountains, of lochs and legend.
“I worry about Hannah.” She turned. “About what being here does to her.”
“I’m more worried about what her being here does to you. Maybe I’m being haunted by the ghosts of Christmas past.” He put the empty glass down and rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “You need to let her be, Suzy. You can’t fix everything, although I know you’ll never give up trying.” The light softened the hard angles of his face, making him seem younger.
His job kept him fit and lean and there were days when he barely looked fifty let alone sixty. The only clue as to his age was the touch of silver in his hair, the same silver that would have shown in hers if she hadn’t chosen to avail herself of a little artificial help.
They’d fallen in love when they’d worked together as mountain guides, when life had seemed like one big adventure. All they’d cared about back then was the next climb. The next summit. They’d been together ever since and, for the most part, their life had a comfortable rhythm. A rhythm that was rocked at this time of year.
The past never went away, she thought. It faded, and sometimes it was little more than a shadow, but it was always there.
“I’m going to make the lodge as welcoming as possible. Hannah works so hard.”
“So do you. Your life isn’t all about the kids, Suzanne. You run a successful business and this is one of your busiest times of the year in the café.”
The source of her anxiety shifted. “And now you’ve reminded me that I still have forty stockings to knit to raise funds for the local mountain rescue team. Thank you for stressing me.”
Stewart grinned and scooped up his clothes from the chair where he’d left them the night before. “Now, that’s something I’d like to see. The rest of the guys wearing stockings. I’ll be taking a photo of that and posting it on the team Facebook page.”
Suzanne pulled a face. “They’re not for wearing, you idiot, they’re for stuffing with presents. We sell them for a good profit. And before you mock, I should point out that the profit from last year’s Christmas stockings bought the team a new avalanche transceiver and contributed to that fancy stretcher you use.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“I like teasing you. I like the way you look when you’re mad. Your mouth pouts and you have these cute little frown lines and— Ow!” He ducked as she crossed the room and flung a pillow at him. “Did you really just do that? How old are you?”
“Old enough to have developed perfect aim.”
He threw the pillow back on the bed, tossed his clothes back on the chair and tumbled her underneath him.
She landed with a gasp on the mattress.
“Stewart!”
“What?”
“We have things to do.”
“We do indeed.” He lowered his head and the last thing she saw before he kissed her were his blue eyes laughing into hers.
By the time they got out of bed