Page 62 of Beyond the Blue Horizon

“I go snow?”Finn pointed his chubby index finger toward the door, flexing and extending it in sweet anticipation. Mouth a pink bow. Messy white locks framing his cherub face.

“Yeah, sweetheart, Mommy is going to take you out to play in the snow. Just let me finish up these dishes and I’ll get you ready.”

He’d been begging me all morning, his adorable nose and tiny hands pressed to the panes of glass at the front of the cabin.

During the day, the view from them was even more breathtaking.

The placid, glacial lake stretched out in the distance, and in between our cabin and the shore was a large open space with a playground off to the side.

I assumed in the summer it was a lush, green field for children to play on, though now, it had a million footprints in it from other children playing on it yesterday.

My spirit expanded at the beauty. At the peace that echoed from every direction.

Part of me wished it were real. Wished I could tap into it.

Because this place felt…special. Different than anywhere we’d gone before.

I ground my molars to stop my thoughts from traveling down that path.

I needed to remember that the only reason I was standing here was because we were stuck.

Trapped by the bad luck I’d fallen into.

“I can feel you freaking out again from over here.” Nelly muttered it low as she teetered into the kitchen, moving to the coffee pot so she could fill herself another cup.

“What am I supposed to do but freak out?” I peered over at her as I turned to load our breakfast plates into the dishwasher. “We’re stuck here for three weeks.”

She grabbed the carafe and filled her mug. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing, Nelly.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she quietly urged as she took off the lid to the sugar container and added a teaspoon to her coffee, stirring slowly as if she were contemplating every possibility.

I blew out a sigh, knowing where her thoughts had gone. She’d been imploring that we make a change. Asking at every town that we traveled through if it was the one.

The one we’d make a home.

I hadn’t been able to let my spirit settle on the possibility of it. The fear that drove me always making me feel as if I were being eaten alive every time I considered it.

Memories of when we’d tried coming back at me like bullets. Guilt over what I’d allowed to happen.

A soft sound rolled out of my grandmother, her spoon clinking against the porcelain of her mug. “I know what you’re thinking, Piper. We just handled it wrong last time.”

Handled it wrong?

Didn’t she remember what happened? The consequence of me thinking I could settle down?

She slowly shuffled around, and her face pinched in care as she looked over at me. “I don’t believe anyone will judge you or blame you if you went forward, Piper.”

A different sort of fear scattered, and my gaze moved to my son who continued to dance in front of the window as he waited for me to take him out to play.

Grief gripped me at the thought of losing him.

At the thought of leaving him alone.

My grandmother was strong and fierce, but she couldn’t take care of him forever.

“But what if they did? What if they believed—” I choked it off, unable to say it.