One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,2

“It can mean the difference between having a good time and losing toes.”

Hope wasn’t deterred, only determined. Determined not to waste these two days off from her job at the Hungry Bear. Determined to teach Ella how to start a fire with wet wood and no matches. Mostly, she was determined to get Ella out of the funk she’d slipped into. They both were still reeling from the loss. She’d love to coddle her daughter, but that would be a disservice. “Listen, the world is harsh. It’s my job to teach you survival skills.” Things Hope had been forced to learn on her own, when she had to grow up all at once.

Ella sighed heavily, as if having a mother were the most annoying thing. “You’ve told me a million times: ‘We’re all alone in this world. I better be prepared to fend for myself.’”

“It’s nice to know you’ve been listening. I’ll see you in the morning.” Hope started to leave, but Ella grabbed her hand.

“Stay. Tell me a story.” Ella had switched gears again, from cranky teenager to affable angel. She’d always loved stories.

“Which one do you want to hear? The one where I stared down a bear?”

“No. I want to hear about Aunt Izzie.”

Have people been talking? Has someone said something to Ella about Donovan returning to town? “You haven’t asked about Izzie in a long time.”

“I know. I want to hear about her now.” Ella reached over the side of the bed and pulled a ribbon from between the mattress and box spring. “I found this ribbon to tie on the Memory Tree.”

Hope reached out and ran her fingers over the ribbon. “We can do that on our camping trip, okay?”

“Sure,” Ella said.

Hope had started the Memory Tree after Izzie died. It was the same mountain hemlock where Donovan, on Izzie’s eleventh birthday, had carved her name—Isabella!—declaring that the tree was now hers. She’d been thrilled. After Izzie’s death, Hope had started visiting the tree, bringing trinkets, things Izzie might’ve liked, to decorate it. Over the years, the two of them had continued the tradition, as Ella had enjoyed finding new treasures for Aunt Izzie.

“Go ahead.” Ella closed her eyes, as if ready for a bedtime story.

Hope understood. Only the two of them were left. When Ella was little, Hope had started telling her stories about Izzie. It was one of the ways Hope kept her sister alive, and a way for Ella to know her namesake. Hope’s mother had hated that she’d named her child Isabella after her dead sister, telling her it was cruel, making Mom despise Hope more.

Izzie was always a clear image in Hope’s mind and she never tired of talking about her. “Izzie was just a little thing with a big personality. Even though she was six years younger than me, she tried to act like we were the same age and wanted to do everything I did. Because your grandmother worked nights in the ER, I babysat her a lot. It was fun. I taught her so much, from how to say her ABCs to how to tie her shoes. When we’d go with Mom to the Sisterhood of the Quilt stitch-ins, Izzie and I would set our sewing machines side by side and make all sorts of things from the fabric the Sisterhood would give us. Like matching pillowcases for the bedroom we shared, and blankets for Izzie’s stuffed animals. We used to play Barbies together, bake cookies, and I really didn’t mind if she tagged along with me and my friends.” Most of the time, anyway. Donovan and his brother, Beau, were great about letting Izzie hang out with them, too.

“I know that stuff already. What happened to Aunt Izzie?” Ella said.

“You know what happened,” Hope answered. “She died.”

“You’ve never told me how.” The whine in Ella’s voice almost stopped Hope. But for the first time, it felt like the right moment. Sharing the sobering story would be one more way for Hope to atone for what she’d done to Izzie and their family. Tonight, especially tonight, Ella needed to hear it.

But it was hard to lay open the gaping wound of what had ruined Hope’s life. How she herself had ruined it. How it’d been no one’s fault but her own. “This isn’t easy for me, Ella.” She took a fortifying breath. “I really need you to pay attention and take everything I’m going to say to heart. Okay?”

Ella sighed. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m not. I’m going to