That Holiday Feeling (Virgin River #8)(25)

“There’s nothing like a white Christmas,” she agreed.

“Can we get a tree and make hot chocolate and sing carols like you used to do when you were a kid?” Hannah pleaded. “Then it won’t matter if we don’t have any presents.”

Savannah cringed at the realistic assessment of their financial plight. The divorce had left her with next to nothing. Her ex-husband hadn’t yet been persuaded to send even the paltry child support payments required by the court. As for alimony, she had a hunch hell would freeze over before she saw a penny of that. Since their divorce had hinged on her objections to his workaholic tendencies, Rob clearly saw no reason she should benefit from the income derived from those tendencies.

Last night, after Hannah had gone to bed, Savannah had sat for hours with her checkbook, a pile of final bills from Florida and a list of the repairs needed before the inn could be opened to paying guests in the new year. Her conclusion had left her feeling more despondent than ever. It was going to take more than a glistening snowfall and a few carols to brighten her spirits.

No matter how hard she tried telling herself that they were better off than they had been, she still wasn’t totally convinced. Maybe if they’d stayed in Florida, she would have found a better-paying job, something that wouldn’t have left them scraping by after making house payments and buying groceries. At least they wouldn’t have had to worry about the kind of exorbitant heating bill from last winter that she’d found in a kitchen drawer here. Maybe selling the heavily mortgaged house that had been her home with Rob had been another error in judgment. It had given her barely enough cash to make the trip and to make a start on the repairs the inn needed.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Hannah asked. “Are you afraid we made a mistake?”

Seeing the concern that filled her daughter’s eyes and the worried crease in her forehead, Savannah shook off her fears. Hannah deserved better than the hand she’d been dealt up to now. For the first time since the divorce, she was acting like a kid again. Savannah refused to let her own worries steal that from her daughter.

“Absolutely not!” she said emphatically. “I think coming here was exactly the right thing to do. We’re going to make it work. How many people get to live in a place that looks like a picture on a Christmas card?”

She gave her daughter a fierce hug. “How about some hot chocolate?”

“Then can we go out in the snow?” Hannah pleaded.

“Tell you what—why don’t you bundle up in your new winter jacket and go outside for a few minutes so you can see what it feels like? I’ll call you when the hot chocolate’s ready.”

Hannah shook her head. “No, Mom, I want you to come, too. Please.”

Savannah thought of all she had to do, then dismissed it. It was only a few days till Christmas. Most of the contractors she’d spoken to said they couldn’t come by till after the first of the year. Until she and Hannah made a trip into the small town at the foot of the mountain, she couldn’t strip the old wallpaper or paint. Why not think of this as an unexpected gift of time?

“Okay, kiddo, let’s do it,” she said, grabbing her coat off a hook by the door. “Only for a few minutes, though. We’re going to need some heavy boots, wool scarves and thick gloves before we spend much time outside. We don’t want to start the new year with frostbite.”

“Whatever,” Hannah said, tugging her out the door, seemingly oblivious to the blast of icy air that greeted them and froze their breath.

There was an inch of damp, heavy snow on the ground and clinging to the towering evergreens already, and it was still falling steadily. With no chains or snow tires on the car, they’d be lucky if they got out of the driveway for a couple of days, Savannah concluded, sinking back into gloominess.

Then she caught the awed expression on Hannah’s face as she tilted her head up and caught snowflakes on her tongue. She remembered doing the exact same thing the first time she’d visited Aunt Mae and seen snow. She’d been even younger than Hannah, and for several years the Christmas trips to Vermont had been the highlight of her life. She couldn’t recall why they’d stopped coming as a family.

She’d come on her own several times after she was grown, but those visits had dwindled off when she’d met, then married, Rob. He was a Florida boy through and through and flatly refused to visit anyplace where the temperature dropped below the midfifties.

Now that Aunt Mae was gone, Savannah deeply regretted not having done more than write an occasional letter enclosing pictures of Hannah. Her aunt had never once judged her, though, and she’d been totally supportive when Savannah had told her about the breakup of her marriage. She’d sent one check explained away as a birthday gift and offered more, but Savannah had turned her down. She’d lied and said they were getting along okay, but she knew now that her aunt had seen through her. She had done in death what Savannah hadn’t permitted her to do while she was living.

If other members of her family resented the gesture, Savannah didn’t know about it. She’d lost touch with most of them years ago. She’d been estranged from her parents ever since she’d divorced a man of whom they enthusiastically approved. Aunt Mae had tried to broker a peace agreement between Savannah and her father, but he’d remained stubbornly silent and unyielding. He’d been convinced Savannah was a fool for divorcing a man who brought home a steady paycheck.