“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Trixie stole a look at Jim Frayne, whose strong hands gripped the steering wheel of the SUV tightly.
“It for sure isn’t easing,” Jim replied.
“Do you think we should turn around?” Diana asked from the rear of the vehicle, where she sat with Mart.
“I think we’re better off not trying to.” Brian turned his head and regarded the white trail that was the road stretching behind them.
“I’m having a hard time judging exactly where everything is,” Jim admitted. “Straight ahead seems the best option.”
“And not thinking about how long this is taking,” Mart added.
“We could sing some songs,” Honey suggested. “That would make time go faster.”
“If you even hum one bar of ‘Winter Wonderland’ or ‘Let it Snow’, Honey, I swear….” Mart shook his fist in the air.
“Hey!” Brian said, turning and shooting his brother a look of admonishment.
“Sorry, Honey. But no car singing,” Mart declared. “Anything but car singing. I beg you.”
“I’m with him,” Dan admitted.
“Fine.” Honey slumped in her seat and chewed on her bottom lip.
“We can sing when we get home,” Diana put in. “I’ll bet we’re not that far from the border now.”
“Sorry, Di, but I’m pretty sure we’re not.” Jim kept his eyes on the road. “Though I can’t begin to give you even an estimation of our location.”
“It’s so dark already,” Trixie observed. “I mean it’s just gone noon and it feels like late afternoon, it’s so dark, well except for the snow.”
“A strangely jumbled yet accurate observation.” Mart grinned.
“What are we going to do?” Honey asked. “We can’t stay on the road if it gets much worse.”
“We need a sign,” Diana said.
“Literal or metaphorical?” Dan asked.
“I’ll take either,” Diana returned.
“What’s that?” Honey said suddenly, leaning forward from her position next to Brian, a slender finger pointing at some sort of glare in the distance ahead.
“The sun?” Trixie hazarded.
“Aliens?” Mart offered.
“A road blockade,” Dan suggested sensibly, elbowing his best friend in the arm.
“Oh, no,” Honey cried. “If the road’s closed….”
“Let’s just check it out, Sis, okay?” Jim slowed even more and within a couple of minutes the car came to a stop as Dan’s prediction proved accurate.
“Afternoon, folks.” The uniformed officer was barely visible through his snow suit and goggles.
“Afternoon,” Jim returned. “I’m guessing we can’t get through?”
The man nodded his head. “Trees across the road. No chance of clearing them for some time. Where you headed?”
“Westchester County,” Honey put in.
“In the States?” the question was pretty much rhetorical, but Trixie answered anyway.
“Yes, sir. We’ve been staying up at Mt. Quinton. We probably should have left a little earlier.”
“And gone a different way,” Mart added.
“For sure,” the man responded and they all figured his mouth was stretching into a smile.
“Any advice?” Jim asked. “I don’t think we can get all the way back to where we came from.”
“You’re right about that. More trees down further up the mountain.”
“Great,” Honey gulped. “We can celebrate Christmas by turning into real life snow- people, or I guess it would be ice-people, really, because people freeze rather than turn to slush, if all those shows where they find frozen bodies are accurate. Maybe….” She trailed off. “Sorry.”
“Pretty sure we can do better than popsicle people,” the officer said, and the Bob-Whites could hear the amusement in his voice. “Hey, Al,” he called to a second man, who had remained standing near the snowmobile pulled over on the road’s shoulder.
Al crossed to join them, nodding as he approached the SUV. “What’s up, Jed?”
“These folks are in a bit of a jam. Headed back to Westchester County in the U.S. and we both know that ain’t gonna happen.”
Al leaned in and regarded the group for a moment. “You got that right. I think I can help you out, though.”
“You can?” Brian’s gazed was fixed on the small snowmobile. “There are seven of us?”
Al laughed. “Well, we’re not planning on giving you a lift, but I can fix you up with some accommodation for the next couple of nights.”
“Couple?” Honey squeaked.
“My aunt has a place she rents out. Drive is back about a mile or so on your left. Sign reads Winterwood. There were folks there until this morning so it should still be pretty warm. It’s kind of rustic, but there’s a generator, plenty of wood and a good supply of basics—we get snowed in regular up here.”
“That sounds like an answer to our prayers,” Jim said. “And, of course, we’re more than happy to pay for our stay.”
Al shrugged. “Wouldn’t worry too much about that. No one booked in until after the holidays. Keys are in the metal cabinet on the front porch. And feel free to use anything food—there are also games, costumes.”
“Costumes?” Honey repeated.
“You’d be surprised how many folks like a costume party.”
“I’m guessing the cell reception won’t be any better there?” Trixie said. “We
don’t want our families to worry.”
“If you give us a number, we can probably get a message to them,” Jed offered.
“It’s probably best to give them your number,” Jim said, turning to Trixie. “Then your mom can let Honey and my folks and Di’s know. And then our folks can tell Regan and Mr. Maypenny.”
Trixie nodded and began to rummage through her purse for pen.
Honey delved into her own purse and handed her friend a pen and notepad.
Trixie scribbled down Crabapple Farm’s number and handed it to the officer. “Please tell them we’re all okay and not to worry.”
“Sure thing.”
“I don’t think this will let up for some time yet,” Al said. “But if the roads are cleared in the morning, we’ll come up on the snowmobile and let you know.”
“Thanks. We’d appreciate it,” Jim said.
“Hey, you’ll save me a trip, at least. I was heading up there to grab any perishables from the fridge. Please use them, and like I said, the pantry should be well-stocked.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.” Honey leaned forward and offered the two a grateful smile.
“And we insist on paying for our stay,” Brian added.
“We’ll work something out.” Al and Jed both stepped back from car.
“Merry Christmas,” they chorused.
“Merry Christmas,” the Bob-Whites returned.
The two men headed back towards the barricade, and Jim wound up the windows before carefully negotiating a turn and heading back up the mountain.
In spite of the heavy snowfall, Trixie easily spotted the Winterwood sign. “That’s it,” she cried.
Luckily for them, the long drive had been sealed and ploughed not that long ago.
“Oh, look.” Diana pointed out the window and through the almost bare trees as they wound their way down the narrow drive.
Apart from Jim, all gazes followed her hand and saw a sprawling single story building.
“That’s a relief,” Mart said. “I was worried rustic might mean a teeny cabin with three-decker bunk beds and an outdoor privy.”
“Ew,” Honey exclaimed, making a face.
“Double ew,” Diana agreed.
“Triple ew,” Dan said. “Two triple decker bunks would have left us a bed short.”
The others laughed, and Jim rounded another bend, bringing them to their destination. There was a porte-cochere of sorts attached to the rear of the cabin and he eased the car into it and switched off the engine. Brian jumped out of the car and a minute later was brandishing the promised key. He headed to the front of the cabin and slipped it into the big entry door. Opening it, he turned and waved to his friends.
“We’re in.”
The others scrambled out of the SUV, grabbed bags and hurried in out of the cold.
It did not take long to explore their temporary accommodations. Rooms were chosen and bags stored.
“I’ll take care of the slow-combustion in the kitchen, if one of you stoke up the living room stove,” Dan offered.
“I’ll do that,” Trixie said.
“I’m going to get some wood and get the little stove in our room going,” Brian added. “Because it’s off the mudroom, the living area fires probably won’t do much.”
“And I’ll investigate the fridge and larder, come up with something for lunch.” Diana pulled her sweater more tightly around her.
“I’ll make coffee, tea, hot chocolate. Something comforting.” Honey said.
“We still have a few provisions of our own.” Jim reached for his jacket. “I’ll grab those and add them to whatever’s here.”
Fifteen minutes later the group was gathered around a large wooden table, tucking into bowls of soup and warm crusty bread.
“Al was right,” Diana said. “There’s loads of canned food. We won’t go hungry.”
“Well, this soup is delicious.” Trixie reached for another piece of bread. “And I’m glad Honey convinced me to pack this bread instead of feeding it to the birds.”
“Refined bread is bad for wildlife,” Brian said.
“Did you know that?” Trixie asked, turning to Honey, who nodded her head.
“How?” Trixie looked from her oldest brother to her best friend and shook her sandy curls. “Don’t bother. I get it.”
“Well, I agree with Trix that the soup is good, but I don’t fancy it for breakfast or Christmas dinner.” Mart regarded his friends expectantly.
“Don’t be silly. There’s plenty in the larder and the refrigerator,” Diana admonished. “There’s flour and enough eggs for me to make pancakes for our breakfast. We’ll be just fine. And if we’re lucky, the weather will improve and we can be home for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”
“Di’s right,” Jim said. “We’re warm, dry and fed. This place is nice. And Christmas dinner is twenty-four hours away.”
“Oh,” Honey cried suddenly. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Trixie asked, blue eyes wide with concern.
“Di. Your folks always do a Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve. You must be so disappointed.”
“I’ll survive,” Diana laughed. “And we can make a nice dinner tonight, anyway. I’m sure we can.”
“I’ll make you a nice dinner,” Honey said promptly.
“And I’ll help,” Brian added. “It’ll be great.”
Trixie nodded and smiled. “Our very own Canadian Christmas Eve.”
“We might have to drag a couple of those dining room chairs over here to the fire,” Brian suggested, as they moved through into the living area.
“That’ll be super comfy,” Mart said, though he gave a wry smile as he spoke.
The two brothers moved back through the open double doors to the dining area and each lifted a chair.
“Hold it! Hold it!” Dan appeared at the end of the hall, dragging something along behind him.
“What’s that?” Trixie asked, peering around Jim’s shoulder from her position on one of the two small sofas.
“That wonderful tribute to the seventies,” Dan said. “The bean bag. There’s another one in my room. I’ll go grab it.”
“I don’t suppose cabin singing is any higher on your list than car singing, Mart?” Honey asked as they settled into their positions around the wood-burning stove.
“I might take the fifth on that one, Honey,” Mart returned with a half-smile.
“We could play charades.” Honey scanned her friends’ faces.
“I could poke myself in the eye with a stick.” Mart’s blue eyes twinkled.
“Honey, at least, is trying to come up with ways for us to keep our minds off….” Trixie trailed off.
“Our situation,” Jim finished diplomatically.
“Oh, please,” Honey said, jumping to her feet and pacing the room. “Tell it like it is. I totally messed up. I was the one who pushed for the last cross-country ski and lost our way coming back and picked the wrong road out. Now, we’re stuck here in about four thousand feet of snow.”
“Maybe not quite four thousand,” Brian observed, a hint of a smile in his dark eyes.
“And you hardly forced us to go skiing this morning,” Trixie said, practically.
“And this place is fine,” Diana added. “It’s warm and cosy. We’ve been having a wonderful time, and we’re still together, so there’s no reason why we can’t keep having a wonderful time.”
“I agree,” Dan said, raising his coffee mug.
“And I do, too, really.” Mart reached across the coffee table and snagged a brownie. “Sorry, Honey. It really isn’t your fault and there are far worse placed we could be.”
“Don’t be nice to me.” Honey crossed the room and stood looking out at the big window at the swirling snow and the ever-increasing drifts. “It’s Christmas and we’re stuck in Canada.”
“Pretty sure they have Christmas in Canada, too, Sis,” Jim said with a grin.
“Of course, they do!” Trixie declared. “Canada is extra Christmassy. I mean look at that snow.” She waved her hand at the great outdoors and one by one her friends’ gazes shifted to her. She smiled weakly. “Maybe the snow thing isn’t exactly the main thing to focus on right now.”
The seven friends had driven up to Mt. Quinton four days earlier and had enjoyed themselves in their spacious, private cabin. Perched high on a mountain, the dark wooden building had soaring ceilings in the living room, four cosy bedrooms and views to die for. Skiing, playing games, hanging out by the huge stone fireplace and cooking meals. It was their first chance to spend a few days together in over a year and everyone had been excited when their schedules had co-ordinated. They’d been having so much fun that they’d delayed their departure, taking the time for one last cross-country ski. Their new accommodation was not as luxurious as the one they’d left behind, but it was cosy, attractive and seemed comfortable.
“It will probably stop snowing soon, anyway,” Diana said brightly, as she settled into the small rocking chair. “We can just as easily drive home tomorrow and have a late Christmas dinner with our families.”
“Sure. I can see that.” Dan poured himself some more coffee and settled back in his chair.
“That must be those rose-coloured glasses you’re wearing.” Honey sniffed. “Unless Santa and Rudolf pay us a visit, we haven’t got a chance!”
“Come on, Honey,” Trixie urged. “You’re usually the optimistic, hopeful, positive one.”
“That’s when other people mess up,” Honey returned automatically. As she heard herself speak, her hand flew to her mouth. “That sounded awful.”
“True, though.” Brian held his hand out to her and she moved to join him on one of the sofas.
“Look, whatever happens, we’re warm and dry. There’s plenty of wood and supplies. We’ll be fine.” Jim slipped an arm around Trixie’s shoulders.
“But how will we make a proper Christmas dinner?” Honey demanded. “Or watch our favourite Christmas movies? And Mart’s already ruled out Christmas songs.”
“Oh, pooh!” Trixie snorted. “I, for one, am happier opening cans than spending hours slaving in a kitchen. And there’s a TV. It must be there for a reason, even if there isn’t proper reception.”
“Trix, I hate to burst your bubble,” Mart said, “but that television is positively ancient. It’s probably been here for twenty years.”
“Fine, Scrooge. Have it your way.” Trixie made a face at her almost twin.
“Honestly, it will be fine, you guys. I’m just being…me.” Mart stretched out in the bean bag. “I bet there’s some board games we can play and if we wanted to….” he trailed off.
“If we wanted to…?” Diana prodded.
“Nothing. Jim, I’m guessing we’ll need a fair bit more wood brought in, with three stoves burning, won’t we.”
“Ahh, sure,” Jim replied.
“Four,” Dan put in. “I lit the one in my room, too.”
“Four,” Mart amended, then turned back to Jim. “In a while, maybe you and I can go and gather and fetch. See, I’m being agreeable.”
Trixie laughed and reached for a cookie. “Another Christmas miracle. Things are looking up.”
*
Jim and Mart headed out to the barn for extra wood, Honey and Brian decided to start work on their Christmas Eve dinner, Diana and Dan went to Dan’s room to quote Dan ‘investigate possibilities’, leaving Trixie alone in the living room.
“I’ll keep an eye on the fire,” she yelled to no one in particular. “And maybe look out some games. There has to be something we can use.”
She added a couple of small logs to the fire, and then sank down onto the floor in front of one the built-in cupboards next to the stove. A smile stretched across her face as she reached inside. Monopoly, Scrabble, Twister—it looked like they’d have something to occupy some of their time. There were also cards and checkers. She scooted along the floor to a second cupboard and opened it. Trixie’s smile widened. They were definitely going to have some Christmas fun, after all.
*
“I can work with this,” Diana said, studying the pile on the bed next to her.
“You can?” Dan couldn’t keep the note of doubt out of his voice.
Diana gave him a playful slap. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
“I don’t mean to suggest you don’t have the talent, Ms. Lynch, it’s just….”
“Look, Dan, I know we aren’t going to have a normal Christmas, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some festive touches.”
“That’s true, but those….” He waved his hand towards Diana’s bounty.
“We have limited means and choices.” A frown puckered her brow suddenly. “Or do you think I shouldn’t use these. Maybe they’re valuable to someone.”
“That I doubt, considering what they are and where we found them.”
Being the only unattached member of the group, Dan had ended up in what appeared to be a small office. It had an old wooden desk, shelves, a cupboard and a daybed, covered in a colorful patchwork quilt. There was a small window and a tiny stove, which Dan had lit. In spite of its size and its simplicity, it was somehow welcoming and cosy. Someone had framed old calendar pages, featuring majestic Canadian scenery and quaint mountain cabins, and these were hung around the room in groups of three.
Diana smiled as she studied one of the groups. “I guess someone decided it was time for a change.”
“Hard to imagine why.”
Diana made a face. “I think it’s time for you to make your contribution to our holiday fun. Grab that box and let’s take another look.”
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Dan sighed.
Diana smiled at him. “I hope so.”
*
“This was a good idea,” Jim said, as he and Mart made their way back towards the cabin.
“You could sound a little less surprised. My sister isn’t the only Belden who has brain waves.”
“I know that.” Jim grinned at his friend. “I happen to think highly of all Belden brains.”
Mart raised his brows.
“Okay, that came out wrong.” Jim paused and took a deep breath. “You know in spite of everything, it really is beautiful up here. This landscape is incredible.”
Mart took in the tree-covered mountains, turning his head away from the driving snow. “You have a point. But if we don’t hustle and get on inside, we’re going to become a part of the landscape–Honey’s popsicle people.”
Jim laughed. “Fair enough. Come on. Let’s do this thing.”
Trixie’s squeal of delight upon the return of her boyfriend and brother, brought the rest of the Bob-Whites back to the living room.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Honey cried, clapping her hands together.
“It was Mart’s idea,” Jim said, as he displayed the five-foot fir tree.
“That was very clever.” Diana hurried over to her boyfriend and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“We figure we can use this metal bucket as a stand,” Mart said. “I can jam some small pieces of wood around its base. I think that should work.”
“It’s terrific.” Brian smiled at his brother. “I, for one, feel far more Christmassy.”
Honey nodded. “Even if we can’t decorate it, it’s still lovely.”
“There might be some decorations, we can check it out,” Trixie suggested. “I myself have uncovered some very useful items during my cursory investigations.”
“What kind of useful items?” Dan asked.
“I believe I will save that for an after-dinner surprise,” Trixie returned with just a hint of smugness.
“That’s a good idea,” Diana said. “I have a little surprise of my own I want to work on, if you guys will excuse me.”
“Surprises are very holiday-esque,” Honey said happily.
“Yes, they are,” Brian agreed. “Why don’t you and I create a little holiday surprise of our own? We’ll close the doors to the dining room, and we won’t open them again until we have our Christmas Eve dinner ready to serve.”
*
“Honestly, what was I thinking?” Honey moaned as she once again opened and closed the door to the large walk-in pantry. “I can’t make a proper Christmas Eve dinner.”
“Sure, you can,” Brian said, leaning over to re-open the door. “You can do anything.” He moved along the shelves of the pantry, studying their contents.
“Well, we can have mashed potatoes, so I suppose that’s something.” Honey joined her boyfriend, tilting her own head back to scan the upper shelves. “Oo, canned green beans. Lots of people eat green beans at Christmas.
“I’d go on record as saying green beans are a good side any time of the year.”
Honey wrinkled her nose and reached up to move cans along and turn the jars behind them around.
“Eureka!” Brian said suddenly.
“What?” Honey craned her neck to see what he was seeing.
“Look what I’ve found. ” Brian grabbed a tin and held it out for her to see.
“Really?” Honey eyed it doubtfully.
“There are several.”
“Still….” Honey frowned.
Brian shrugged. “Work with what we’ve got.”
“Good point. Okay, we can keep looking, but I guess we can get started.”
*
Total darkness enveloped the cabin late afternoon, but even without the aid of light, the snow’s persistence was felt by its inhabitants.
“It’s not looking promising, is it?” Trixie asked, peering out the window, in spite of the lack of light.
“Not really,” Jim conceded, joining her.
“No home for Christmas, then.” Trixie leaned against him.
“I still have hope,” Diana declared.
“It’s one your most lovable qualities,” Mart said with a smile.
“We’re okay,” Dan put in as he added another log to the stove. “Home would be nice, but all the BWGs together is almost as good.”
“Well said.” Trixie turned to beam at her friend.
“I agree,” Jim said. “The past couple of years one or more of us has been missing either Christmas Eve or Christmas day, so this is definitely good.”
“it certainly could be worse,” Mart conceded. “Any ideas on how to pass the time until dinner?”
“What about a game or two?” Trixie suggested.
“What do we have?” Dan asked.
Trixie moved to the cupboard, opened it and pulled the games out for her friends to see.
“Mmm, Scrabble,” Mart said with a wiggle of his sandy brows.
“Mmm, forget it, Mr. Dictionary,” Trixie shot back.
“I say Twister,” Di put in.
Jim and Mart groaned.
“I can work with Twister,” Dan said, grey eyes twinkling.
“Twister it is.” Trixie grinned and began pushing the furniture back.
*
“Dinner is served,” Brian announced, sliding open the double doors that separated the living area from the dining space.
Twister had given way to Trivial Pursuit, where each BWG player had a chance to shine and a chance to fail. The group abandoned their game and quickly moved towards Brian.
Honey stood at the head of the table, a tentative smile on her face.
“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Diana cried.
“Actual food!” Mart’s face sported a decided grin, as the group made their way to the table from the living room.
Long red candles spread a flickering light across the dark wood surface, and shone through glass bowls that held green beans with almonds and fluffy mashed potato. Sliced ham graced one platter and another contained corn fritters. There was also a boat full of gravy and a dish of cranberry jelly. Pretty mismatched green and white plates were set before each diner.
“Hon, this looks amazing.” Trixie dashed over and hugged her friend.
“It’s a bit of a mix,” Honey admitted as the group took their places around the table.
“It looks delicious,” Jim said.
“I should warn you the ham is canned, but I made a sort of glaze and worst case scenario, there’s plenty of gravy.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Dan said affectionately. “It’ll be great.”
Dishes were passed from hand to hand, and Brian poured sparkling wine into waiting glasses.
“This, I hasten to add, is left over from our own stash,” he said. “I haven’t been raiding our hosts’ cellar.”
“Just their pantry,” Honey noted.
“We were told to do that,” Jim said. “And we’ll pay for everything we use.”
“Of course, we will, Mr. Honourable,” Trixie put in impishly.
There was silence as everyone began sampling their food.
“I love corn fritters,” Trixie declared happily.
“Not exactly Christmas fare,” Honey said, grabbing another fritter and transferring it to her own plate.
“Who cares?” Trixie returned. “I’m all for breaking tradition if it tastes this good.”
“Agreed.” Dan spooned more mashed potato onto his plate and added gravy. “Not that this is non-traditional.”
“This ham is actually good—really good.” Mart reached for another slice and added more cranberry jelly to his plate.
“And we always have ham on Christmas Eve, it definitely reminds me of home,” Diana said.
“Well, that’s what it was supposed to do, so yay to us,” Honey said.
“It’s all lovely, the food, the table, the candles—all of it.” Diana raised her glass. “Here’s to the very first BWG Canadian Christmas Eve dinner.”
There was a chorus of ayes as her friends responded, then a moment of silence before Mart added, “First? Did you say first?”
*
Dan tugged at the unfamiliar garment and bent over to peer in the mirrored door of the old armoire in the corner of the room. It wasn’t exactly the perfect Christmas outfit, but it would have to do. He grinned and winked at his reflection before heading back to the living area.
“What the heck?” Jim blinked in surprise as he caught sight of the figure in the doorway.
“Arrh, arrh, arrh, merry Christmas.” Dan strode into the room and all gazes fixed upon their friend.
“Isn’t that meant to be ho, ho, ho?” Brian demanded, whilst Trixie dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Excuse me, me hearties!” Dan glared at Brian.
“Oh, oh, “Honey cried, clapping her hands together. “It’s Pirate Santa.”
“This is your idea of getting us into the Christmas spirit?” Mart shook his head and grinned.
“I think he looks splendid,” Diana said.
“You’re the one who helped him into that get-up,” Mart returned with another shake of his head.
Dan stood before them. His black jeans were tucked into boots and teamed with a white shirt and a black vest, but the true giveaway was the triangular hat that sat atop his dark hair and the black eyepatch that covered one grey eye.
“Pirate Santa?” Jim repeated.
“Hey, there were not a lot of options in that costume chest,” Diana said, defending their choice.
“And he does look wonderful.” Honey beamed at her friend. “Very dread pirate Roberts.”
“I was thinking Captain Blood,” Diana offered.
“I’m leaning towards Jack Sparrow.” Trixie reached for another handful of chips.
“I, myself, am seeing Captain Skunkbeard.” Mart grinned.
“Watch it, Shaggy. You might end up on the naughty list,” Dan warned. “And not get your gift.”
“There’s no way you guys could have come up with gifts,” Trixie said. “Is there?”
“Let’s see, shall we?” Dan dropped the sack he was carrying onto the floor. “Now, what do I have here?” He slid an arm into the cloth bag and withdrew an item that brought puzzled looks to his friends faces. “What’s the matter with you lot?” he demanded. “Haven’t you ever seen Bob-White Christmas Cats before?” He began to hand out cardboard mounted cut out pictures of cats. Beneath each picture there were two words in a variety of scripts.
“It for sure isn’t easing,” Jim replied.
“Do you think we should turn around?” Diana asked from the rear of the vehicle, where she sat with Mart.
“I think we’re better off not trying to.” Brian turned his head and regarded the white trail that was the road stretching behind them.
“I’m having a hard time judging exactly where everything is,” Jim admitted. “Straight ahead seems the best option.”
“And not thinking about how long this is taking,” Mart added.
“We could sing some songs,” Honey suggested. “That would make time go faster.”
“If you even hum one bar of ‘Winter Wonderland’ or ‘Let it Snow’, Honey, I swear….” Mart shook his fist in the air.
“Hey!” Brian said, turning and shooting his brother a look of admonishment.
“Sorry, Honey. But no car singing,” Mart declared. “Anything but car singing. I beg you.”
“I’m with him,” Dan admitted.
“Fine.” Honey slumped in her seat and chewed on her bottom lip.
“We can sing when we get home,” Diana put in. “I’ll bet we’re not that far from the border now.”
“Sorry, Di, but I’m pretty sure we’re not.” Jim kept his eyes on the road. “Though I can’t begin to give you even an estimation of our location.”
“It’s so dark already,” Trixie observed. “I mean it’s just gone noon and it feels like late afternoon, it’s so dark, well except for the snow.”
“A strangely jumbled yet accurate observation.” Mart grinned.
“What are we going to do?” Honey asked. “We can’t stay on the road if it gets much worse.”
“We need a sign,” Diana said.
“Literal or metaphorical?” Dan asked.
“I’ll take either,” Diana returned.
“What’s that?” Honey said suddenly, leaning forward from her position next to Brian, a slender finger pointing at some sort of glare in the distance ahead.
“The sun?” Trixie hazarded.
“Aliens?” Mart offered.
“A road blockade,” Dan suggested sensibly, elbowing his best friend in the arm.
“Oh, no,” Honey cried. “If the road’s closed….”
“Let’s just check it out, Sis, okay?” Jim slowed even more and within a couple of minutes the car came to a stop as Dan’s prediction proved accurate.
“Afternoon, folks.” The uniformed officer was barely visible through his snow suit and goggles.
“Afternoon,” Jim returned. “I’m guessing we can’t get through?”
The man nodded his head. “Trees across the road. No chance of clearing them for some time. Where you headed?”
“Westchester County,” Honey put in.
“In the States?” the question was pretty much rhetorical, but Trixie answered anyway.
“Yes, sir. We’ve been staying up at Mt. Quinton. We probably should have left a little earlier.”
“And gone a different way,” Mart added.
“For sure,” the man responded and they all figured his mouth was stretching into a smile.
“Any advice?” Jim asked. “I don’t think we can get all the way back to where we came from.”
“You’re right about that. More trees down further up the mountain.”
“Great,” Honey gulped. “We can celebrate Christmas by turning into real life snow- people, or I guess it would be ice-people, really, because people freeze rather than turn to slush, if all those shows where they find frozen bodies are accurate. Maybe….” She trailed off. “Sorry.”
“Pretty sure we can do better than popsicle people,” the officer said, and the Bob-Whites could hear the amusement in his voice. “Hey, Al,” he called to a second man, who had remained standing near the snowmobile pulled over on the road’s shoulder.
Al crossed to join them, nodding as he approached the SUV. “What’s up, Jed?”
“These folks are in a bit of a jam. Headed back to Westchester County in the U.S. and we both know that ain’t gonna happen.”
Al leaned in and regarded the group for a moment. “You got that right. I think I can help you out, though.”
“You can?” Brian’s gazed was fixed on the small snowmobile. “There are seven of us?”
Al laughed. “Well, we’re not planning on giving you a lift, but I can fix you up with some accommodation for the next couple of nights.”
“Couple?” Honey squeaked.
“My aunt has a place she rents out. Drive is back about a mile or so on your left. Sign reads Winterwood. There were folks there until this morning so it should still be pretty warm. It’s kind of rustic, but there’s a generator, plenty of wood and a good supply of basics—we get snowed in regular up here.”
“That sounds like an answer to our prayers,” Jim said. “And, of course, we’re more than happy to pay for our stay.”
Al shrugged. “Wouldn’t worry too much about that. No one booked in until after the holidays. Keys are in the metal cabinet on the front porch. And feel free to use anything food—there are also games, costumes.”
“Costumes?” Honey repeated.
“You’d be surprised how many folks like a costume party.”
“I’m guessing the cell reception won’t be any better there?” Trixie said. “We
don’t want our families to worry.”
“If you give us a number, we can probably get a message to them,” Jed offered.
“It’s probably best to give them your number,” Jim said, turning to Trixie. “Then your mom can let Honey and my folks and Di’s know. And then our folks can tell Regan and Mr. Maypenny.”
Trixie nodded and began to rummage through her purse for pen.
Honey delved into her own purse and handed her friend a pen and notepad.
Trixie scribbled down Crabapple Farm’s number and handed it to the officer. “Please tell them we’re all okay and not to worry.”
“Sure thing.”
“I don’t think this will let up for some time yet,” Al said. “But if the roads are cleared in the morning, we’ll come up on the snowmobile and let you know.”
“Thanks. We’d appreciate it,” Jim said.
“Hey, you’ll save me a trip, at least. I was heading up there to grab any perishables from the fridge. Please use them, and like I said, the pantry should be well-stocked.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.” Honey leaned forward and offered the two a grateful smile.
“And we insist on paying for our stay,” Brian added.
“We’ll work something out.” Al and Jed both stepped back from car.
“Merry Christmas,” they chorused.
“Merry Christmas,” the Bob-Whites returned.
The two men headed back towards the barricade, and Jim wound up the windows before carefully negotiating a turn and heading back up the mountain.
In spite of the heavy snowfall, Trixie easily spotted the Winterwood sign. “That’s it,” she cried.
Luckily for them, the long drive had been sealed and ploughed not that long ago.
“Oh, look.” Diana pointed out the window and through the almost bare trees as they wound their way down the narrow drive.
Apart from Jim, all gazes followed her hand and saw a sprawling single story building.
“That’s a relief,” Mart said. “I was worried rustic might mean a teeny cabin with three-decker bunk beds and an outdoor privy.”
“Ew,” Honey exclaimed, making a face.
“Double ew,” Diana agreed.
“Triple ew,” Dan said. “Two triple decker bunks would have left us a bed short.”
The others laughed, and Jim rounded another bend, bringing them to their destination. There was a porte-cochere of sorts attached to the rear of the cabin and he eased the car into it and switched off the engine. Brian jumped out of the car and a minute later was brandishing the promised key. He headed to the front of the cabin and slipped it into the big entry door. Opening it, he turned and waved to his friends.
“We’re in.”
The others scrambled out of the SUV, grabbed bags and hurried in out of the cold.
It did not take long to explore their temporary accommodations. Rooms were chosen and bags stored.
“I’ll take care of the slow-combustion in the kitchen, if one of you stoke up the living room stove,” Dan offered.
“I’ll do that,” Trixie said.
“I’m going to get some wood and get the little stove in our room going,” Brian added. “Because it’s off the mudroom, the living area fires probably won’t do much.”
“And I’ll investigate the fridge and larder, come up with something for lunch.” Diana pulled her sweater more tightly around her.
“I’ll make coffee, tea, hot chocolate. Something comforting.” Honey said.
“We still have a few provisions of our own.” Jim reached for his jacket. “I’ll grab those and add them to whatever’s here.”
Fifteen minutes later the group was gathered around a large wooden table, tucking into bowls of soup and warm crusty bread.
“Al was right,” Diana said. “There’s loads of canned food. We won’t go hungry.”
“Well, this soup is delicious.” Trixie reached for another piece of bread. “And I’m glad Honey convinced me to pack this bread instead of feeding it to the birds.”
“Refined bread is bad for wildlife,” Brian said.
“Did you know that?” Trixie asked, turning to Honey, who nodded her head.
“How?” Trixie looked from her oldest brother to her best friend and shook her sandy curls. “Don’t bother. I get it.”
“Well, I agree with Trix that the soup is good, but I don’t fancy it for breakfast or Christmas dinner.” Mart regarded his friends expectantly.
“Don’t be silly. There’s plenty in the larder and the refrigerator,” Diana admonished. “There’s flour and enough eggs for me to make pancakes for our breakfast. We’ll be just fine. And if we’re lucky, the weather will improve and we can be home for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”
“Di’s right,” Jim said. “We’re warm, dry and fed. This place is nice. And Christmas dinner is twenty-four hours away.”
“Oh,” Honey cried suddenly. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Trixie asked, blue eyes wide with concern.
“Di. Your folks always do a Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve. You must be so disappointed.”
“I’ll survive,” Diana laughed. “And we can make a nice dinner tonight, anyway. I’m sure we can.”
“I’ll make you a nice dinner,” Honey said promptly.
“And I’ll help,” Brian added. “It’ll be great.”
Trixie nodded and smiled. “Our very own Canadian Christmas Eve.”
“We might have to drag a couple of those dining room chairs over here to the fire,” Brian suggested, as they moved through into the living area.
“That’ll be super comfy,” Mart said, though he gave a wry smile as he spoke.
The two brothers moved back through the open double doors to the dining area and each lifted a chair.
“Hold it! Hold it!” Dan appeared at the end of the hall, dragging something along behind him.
“What’s that?” Trixie asked, peering around Jim’s shoulder from her position on one of the two small sofas.
“That wonderful tribute to the seventies,” Dan said. “The bean bag. There’s another one in my room. I’ll go grab it.”
“I don’t suppose cabin singing is any higher on your list than car singing, Mart?” Honey asked as they settled into their positions around the wood-burning stove.
“I might take the fifth on that one, Honey,” Mart returned with a half-smile.
“We could play charades.” Honey scanned her friends’ faces.
“I could poke myself in the eye with a stick.” Mart’s blue eyes twinkled.
“Honey, at least, is trying to come up with ways for us to keep our minds off….” Trixie trailed off.
“Our situation,” Jim finished diplomatically.
“Oh, please,” Honey said, jumping to her feet and pacing the room. “Tell it like it is. I totally messed up. I was the one who pushed for the last cross-country ski and lost our way coming back and picked the wrong road out. Now, we’re stuck here in about four thousand feet of snow.”
“Maybe not quite four thousand,” Brian observed, a hint of a smile in his dark eyes.
“And you hardly forced us to go skiing this morning,” Trixie said, practically.
“And this place is fine,” Diana added. “It’s warm and cosy. We’ve been having a wonderful time, and we’re still together, so there’s no reason why we can’t keep having a wonderful time.”
“I agree,” Dan said, raising his coffee mug.
“And I do, too, really.” Mart reached across the coffee table and snagged a brownie. “Sorry, Honey. It really isn’t your fault and there are far worse placed we could be.”
“Don’t be nice to me.” Honey crossed the room and stood looking out at the big window at the swirling snow and the ever-increasing drifts. “It’s Christmas and we’re stuck in Canada.”
“Pretty sure they have Christmas in Canada, too, Sis,” Jim said with a grin.
“Of course, they do!” Trixie declared. “Canada is extra Christmassy. I mean look at that snow.” She waved her hand at the great outdoors and one by one her friends’ gazes shifted to her. She smiled weakly. “Maybe the snow thing isn’t exactly the main thing to focus on right now.”
The seven friends had driven up to Mt. Quinton four days earlier and had enjoyed themselves in their spacious, private cabin. Perched high on a mountain, the dark wooden building had soaring ceilings in the living room, four cosy bedrooms and views to die for. Skiing, playing games, hanging out by the huge stone fireplace and cooking meals. It was their first chance to spend a few days together in over a year and everyone had been excited when their schedules had co-ordinated. They’d been having so much fun that they’d delayed their departure, taking the time for one last cross-country ski. Their new accommodation was not as luxurious as the one they’d left behind, but it was cosy, attractive and seemed comfortable.
“It will probably stop snowing soon, anyway,” Diana said brightly, as she settled into the small rocking chair. “We can just as easily drive home tomorrow and have a late Christmas dinner with our families.”
“Sure. I can see that.” Dan poured himself some more coffee and settled back in his chair.
“That must be those rose-coloured glasses you’re wearing.” Honey sniffed. “Unless Santa and Rudolf pay us a visit, we haven’t got a chance!”
“Come on, Honey,” Trixie urged. “You’re usually the optimistic, hopeful, positive one.”
“That’s when other people mess up,” Honey returned automatically. As she heard herself speak, her hand flew to her mouth. “That sounded awful.”
“True, though.” Brian held his hand out to her and she moved to join him on one of the sofas.
“Look, whatever happens, we’re warm and dry. There’s plenty of wood and supplies. We’ll be fine.” Jim slipped an arm around Trixie’s shoulders.
“But how will we make a proper Christmas dinner?” Honey demanded. “Or watch our favourite Christmas movies? And Mart’s already ruled out Christmas songs.”
“Oh, pooh!” Trixie snorted. “I, for one, am happier opening cans than spending hours slaving in a kitchen. And there’s a TV. It must be there for a reason, even if there isn’t proper reception.”
“Trix, I hate to burst your bubble,” Mart said, “but that television is positively ancient. It’s probably been here for twenty years.”
“Fine, Scrooge. Have it your way.” Trixie made a face at her almost twin.
“Honestly, it will be fine, you guys. I’m just being…me.” Mart stretched out in the bean bag. “I bet there’s some board games we can play and if we wanted to….” he trailed off.
“If we wanted to…?” Diana prodded.
“Nothing. Jim, I’m guessing we’ll need a fair bit more wood brought in, with three stoves burning, won’t we.”
“Ahh, sure,” Jim replied.
“Four,” Dan put in. “I lit the one in my room, too.”
“Four,” Mart amended, then turned back to Jim. “In a while, maybe you and I can go and gather and fetch. See, I’m being agreeable.”
Trixie laughed and reached for a cookie. “Another Christmas miracle. Things are looking up.”
*
Jim and Mart headed out to the barn for extra wood, Honey and Brian decided to start work on their Christmas Eve dinner, Diana and Dan went to Dan’s room to quote Dan ‘investigate possibilities’, leaving Trixie alone in the living room.
“I’ll keep an eye on the fire,” she yelled to no one in particular. “And maybe look out some games. There has to be something we can use.”
She added a couple of small logs to the fire, and then sank down onto the floor in front of one the built-in cupboards next to the stove. A smile stretched across her face as she reached inside. Monopoly, Scrabble, Twister—it looked like they’d have something to occupy some of their time. There were also cards and checkers. She scooted along the floor to a second cupboard and opened it. Trixie’s smile widened. They were definitely going to have some Christmas fun, after all.
*
“I can work with this,” Diana said, studying the pile on the bed next to her.
“You can?” Dan couldn’t keep the note of doubt out of his voice.
Diana gave him a playful slap. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
“I don’t mean to suggest you don’t have the talent, Ms. Lynch, it’s just….”
“Look, Dan, I know we aren’t going to have a normal Christmas, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some festive touches.”
“That’s true, but those….” He waved his hand towards Diana’s bounty.
“We have limited means and choices.” A frown puckered her brow suddenly. “Or do you think I shouldn’t use these. Maybe they’re valuable to someone.”
“That I doubt, considering what they are and where we found them.”
Being the only unattached member of the group, Dan had ended up in what appeared to be a small office. It had an old wooden desk, shelves, a cupboard and a daybed, covered in a colorful patchwork quilt. There was a small window and a tiny stove, which Dan had lit. In spite of its size and its simplicity, it was somehow welcoming and cosy. Someone had framed old calendar pages, featuring majestic Canadian scenery and quaint mountain cabins, and these were hung around the room in groups of three.
Diana smiled as she studied one of the groups. “I guess someone decided it was time for a change.”
“Hard to imagine why.”
Diana made a face. “I think it’s time for you to make your contribution to our holiday fun. Grab that box and let’s take another look.”
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Dan sighed.
Diana smiled at him. “I hope so.”
*
“This was a good idea,” Jim said, as he and Mart made their way back towards the cabin.
“You could sound a little less surprised. My sister isn’t the only Belden who has brain waves.”
“I know that.” Jim grinned at his friend. “I happen to think highly of all Belden brains.”
Mart raised his brows.
“Okay, that came out wrong.” Jim paused and took a deep breath. “You know in spite of everything, it really is beautiful up here. This landscape is incredible.”
Mart took in the tree-covered mountains, turning his head away from the driving snow. “You have a point. But if we don’t hustle and get on inside, we’re going to become a part of the landscape–Honey’s popsicle people.”
Jim laughed. “Fair enough. Come on. Let’s do this thing.”
Trixie’s squeal of delight upon the return of her boyfriend and brother, brought the rest of the Bob-Whites back to the living room.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Honey cried, clapping her hands together.
“It was Mart’s idea,” Jim said, as he displayed the five-foot fir tree.
“That was very clever.” Diana hurried over to her boyfriend and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“We figure we can use this metal bucket as a stand,” Mart said. “I can jam some small pieces of wood around its base. I think that should work.”
“It’s terrific.” Brian smiled at his brother. “I, for one, feel far more Christmassy.”
Honey nodded. “Even if we can’t decorate it, it’s still lovely.”
“There might be some decorations, we can check it out,” Trixie suggested. “I myself have uncovered some very useful items during my cursory investigations.”
“What kind of useful items?” Dan asked.
“I believe I will save that for an after-dinner surprise,” Trixie returned with just a hint of smugness.
“That’s a good idea,” Diana said. “I have a little surprise of my own I want to work on, if you guys will excuse me.”
“Surprises are very holiday-esque,” Honey said happily.
“Yes, they are,” Brian agreed. “Why don’t you and I create a little holiday surprise of our own? We’ll close the doors to the dining room, and we won’t open them again until we have our Christmas Eve dinner ready to serve.”
*
“Honestly, what was I thinking?” Honey moaned as she once again opened and closed the door to the large walk-in pantry. “I can’t make a proper Christmas Eve dinner.”
“Sure, you can,” Brian said, leaning over to re-open the door. “You can do anything.” He moved along the shelves of the pantry, studying their contents.
“Well, we can have mashed potatoes, so I suppose that’s something.” Honey joined her boyfriend, tilting her own head back to scan the upper shelves. “Oo, canned green beans. Lots of people eat green beans at Christmas.
“I’d go on record as saying green beans are a good side any time of the year.”
Honey wrinkled her nose and reached up to move cans along and turn the jars behind them around.
“Eureka!” Brian said suddenly.
“What?” Honey craned her neck to see what he was seeing.
“Look what I’ve found. ” Brian grabbed a tin and held it out for her to see.
“Really?” Honey eyed it doubtfully.
“There are several.”
“Still….” Honey frowned.
Brian shrugged. “Work with what we’ve got.”
“Good point. Okay, we can keep looking, but I guess we can get started.”
*
Total darkness enveloped the cabin late afternoon, but even without the aid of light, the snow’s persistence was felt by its inhabitants.
“It’s not looking promising, is it?” Trixie asked, peering out the window, in spite of the lack of light.
“Not really,” Jim conceded, joining her.
“No home for Christmas, then.” Trixie leaned against him.
“I still have hope,” Diana declared.
“It’s one your most lovable qualities,” Mart said with a smile.
“We’re okay,” Dan put in as he added another log to the stove. “Home would be nice, but all the BWGs together is almost as good.”
“Well said.” Trixie turned to beam at her friend.
“I agree,” Jim said. “The past couple of years one or more of us has been missing either Christmas Eve or Christmas day, so this is definitely good.”
“it certainly could be worse,” Mart conceded. “Any ideas on how to pass the time until dinner?”
“What about a game or two?” Trixie suggested.
“What do we have?” Dan asked.
Trixie moved to the cupboard, opened it and pulled the games out for her friends to see.
“Mmm, Scrabble,” Mart said with a wiggle of his sandy brows.
“Mmm, forget it, Mr. Dictionary,” Trixie shot back.
“I say Twister,” Di put in.
Jim and Mart groaned.
“I can work with Twister,” Dan said, grey eyes twinkling.
“Twister it is.” Trixie grinned and began pushing the furniture back.
*
“Dinner is served,” Brian announced, sliding open the double doors that separated the living area from the dining space.
Twister had given way to Trivial Pursuit, where each BWG player had a chance to shine and a chance to fail. The group abandoned their game and quickly moved towards Brian.
Honey stood at the head of the table, a tentative smile on her face.
“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Diana cried.
“Actual food!” Mart’s face sported a decided grin, as the group made their way to the table from the living room.
Long red candles spread a flickering light across the dark wood surface, and shone through glass bowls that held green beans with almonds and fluffy mashed potato. Sliced ham graced one platter and another contained corn fritters. There was also a boat full of gravy and a dish of cranberry jelly. Pretty mismatched green and white plates were set before each diner.
“Hon, this looks amazing.” Trixie dashed over and hugged her friend.
“It’s a bit of a mix,” Honey admitted as the group took their places around the table.
“It looks delicious,” Jim said.
“I should warn you the ham is canned, but I made a sort of glaze and worst case scenario, there’s plenty of gravy.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Dan said affectionately. “It’ll be great.”
Dishes were passed from hand to hand, and Brian poured sparkling wine into waiting glasses.
“This, I hasten to add, is left over from our own stash,” he said. “I haven’t been raiding our hosts’ cellar.”
“Just their pantry,” Honey noted.
“We were told to do that,” Jim said. “And we’ll pay for everything we use.”
“Of course, we will, Mr. Honourable,” Trixie put in impishly.
There was silence as everyone began sampling their food.
“I love corn fritters,” Trixie declared happily.
“Not exactly Christmas fare,” Honey said, grabbing another fritter and transferring it to her own plate.
“Who cares?” Trixie returned. “I’m all for breaking tradition if it tastes this good.”
“Agreed.” Dan spooned more mashed potato onto his plate and added gravy. “Not that this is non-traditional.”
“This ham is actually good—really good.” Mart reached for another slice and added more cranberry jelly to his plate.
“And we always have ham on Christmas Eve, it definitely reminds me of home,” Diana said.
“Well, that’s what it was supposed to do, so yay to us,” Honey said.
“It’s all lovely, the food, the table, the candles—all of it.” Diana raised her glass. “Here’s to the very first BWG Canadian Christmas Eve dinner.”
There was a chorus of ayes as her friends responded, then a moment of silence before Mart added, “First? Did you say first?”
*
Dan tugged at the unfamiliar garment and bent over to peer in the mirrored door of the old armoire in the corner of the room. It wasn’t exactly the perfect Christmas outfit, but it would have to do. He grinned and winked at his reflection before heading back to the living area.
“What the heck?” Jim blinked in surprise as he caught sight of the figure in the doorway.
“Arrh, arrh, arrh, merry Christmas.” Dan strode into the room and all gazes fixed upon their friend.
“Isn’t that meant to be ho, ho, ho?” Brian demanded, whilst Trixie dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Excuse me, me hearties!” Dan glared at Brian.
“Oh, oh, “Honey cried, clapping her hands together. “It’s Pirate Santa.”
“This is your idea of getting us into the Christmas spirit?” Mart shook his head and grinned.
“I think he looks splendid,” Diana said.
“You’re the one who helped him into that get-up,” Mart returned with another shake of his head.
Dan stood before them. His black jeans were tucked into boots and teamed with a white shirt and a black vest, but the true giveaway was the triangular hat that sat atop his dark hair and the black eyepatch that covered one grey eye.
“Pirate Santa?” Jim repeated.
“Hey, there were not a lot of options in that costume chest,” Diana said, defending their choice.
“And he does look wonderful.” Honey beamed at her friend. “Very dread pirate Roberts.”
“I was thinking Captain Blood,” Diana offered.
“I’m leaning towards Jack Sparrow.” Trixie reached for another handful of chips.
“I, myself, am seeing Captain Skunkbeard.” Mart grinned.
“Watch it, Shaggy. You might end up on the naughty list,” Dan warned. “And not get your gift.”
“There’s no way you guys could have come up with gifts,” Trixie said. “Is there?”
“Let’s see, shall we?” Dan dropped the sack he was carrying onto the floor. “Now, what do I have here?” He slid an arm into the cloth bag and withdrew an item that brought puzzled looks to his friends faces. “What’s the matter with you lot?” he demanded. “Haven’t you ever seen Bob-White Christmas Cats before?” He began to hand out cardboard mounted cut out pictures of cats. Beneath each picture there were two words in a variety of scripts.
“Di, these are so cool.” Trixie’s blue eyes, not unlike those of her cat familiar, danced.
“More cute than cool,” Mart said. “But I do like mine.”
“How did you find cats that look like us?” Honey marvelled, picking up her elegantly posed feline.
“Well, obviously, cat calendars have been very popular in the family that owns this
place. There were masses of these in with Dan’s wood store, so I figured it was okay to use them. And there was lots of cardboard backing, so…voila.”
“I’m not so sure about my familiar.” Jim held up his cat.
“I love it!” Trixie declared.
“I think, Ms. Lynch has demonstrated both insight and talent in her latest project,” Mart declared.
“That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Mart-kitty is labelled heroic and sensitive, would it?” Brian smiled at his brother.
“A mere coincidence,” Mart returned with a wave of his hand.
“I really appreciate mine,” Honey said, “but, brave and fierce? Really?”
“I stand by each and every word.” Diana shifted her steady violet gaze from one friend to the next. “Sure, I could have said Brian was smart, Trixie was impulsive, Dan was reflective, Jim was honourable, Mart was funny and you were thoughtful, Honey, but we all know that. It’s understood. I wanted to show you all that I can see more things in you, if that makes any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Jim replied.
“Perfectly perfect sense,” Trixie added.
“It’s terrific,” Dan said. “Just like you.”
Diana blushed and dropped her head slightly, a familiar move that caused her dark hair to fall across her face.
“Let’s raise our glasses, or rather our mugs to our very own artist in residence, Ms. Diana Lynch.” Mart stood and held up his mug of coffee.
The others joined him.
“Diana,” they chorused.
“I am definitely feeling a lot more Christmassy,” Diana said, snuggling into her chair and sipping her hot chocolate. “That was a delicious dinner, Honey…and Brian.”
“It turned out better than I thought,” Honey admitted with a smile. “And I’m so glad you guys found that box of Christmas tree lights.”
“It makes a difference, doesn’t it?” Mart agreed.
“And Santa came,” Trixie said, grinning across at Dan, who still wore his pirate gear.
“I’m framing my pussy me when we get home,” Honey declared. Silence followed this remark and she shrugged her slim shoulders. “Fine, that came out wrong, but you know what I mean.”
“We do, and I agree with you.” Dan held up his own feline representation and smiled.
“So, I guess we can grab another one of those board games now,” Mart said, wriggling in his beanbag.
“We could,” Trixie conceded. “Or we could settle in for a Christmas movie night.”
“You’re not planning on re-enacting some classics, are you?” Dan asked, eyes twinkling.
“I think that could be fun,” Honey said. “I know lots of Christmas movies by heart.”
“You should.” Brian pulled his girlfriend a little closer. “Every December and every July, like clockwork. Occasional other random times, too.”
Honey made a face.
“Look,” Brian continued with a smile. “I’m all for a festive film, but do we really have to sit through another screening of White Christmas?”
“Sisters, sisters,” Dan and Mart chorused, both fluttering their eyelashes.
“We have plenty of other options,” Trixie scolded, scrambling off the sofa and moving to the cupboard.
“Videos!” Jim’s brows shot up. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Trixie returned. “And before you doubters start, that ancient television and the video recorder that’s still attached to it, both work fine, so we’re good.”
“Depending on your viewpoint,” Dan quipped.
“Oh, It’s a Wonderful Life. That’s one of my favourites,” Di said.
“How the Grinch Stole Christmas!” Jim’s face lit up.
“A Christmas Carol!” Honey cried. “And it’s the Alistair Sims version. It’s still my favourite, though I haven’t met a version I don’t like.”
“I can attest to that,” Brian said, dark eyes twinkling.
“Let’s start with the Grinch and take it from there,” Trixie suggested. And they all made themselves comfortable.
“You know this Christmas Eve turned out just fine,” Mart said as he switched off the tree lights.
“And tomorrow we’ll be heading home. I can feel it in my bones,” Diana declared.
“Well, the snow has eased,” Jim allowed. “So you might be right.”
“Either way, we’re safe and warm and we have food and…” Trixie turned to Honey. “We do still have food, don’t we?”
Honey’s smile wavered a little, and Di answered instead. “I’ve got all the ingredients ready for a pancake breakfast and there’s plenty of coffee, so the answer is yes.”
“Good.” Dan worked his way out of the beanbag. “Any day that starts with Di’s pancakes is okay by me.”
Christmas morning dawned, and as they all woke early it was still quite dark. It was difficult to know exactly what the weather had planned for them.
Jim and Trixie stirred the fireplaces into action, then the group exchanged hugs and holiday greetings. Diana set to work in the kitchen with Mart acting as assistant chef, and Honey and Brian set the table ready for breakfast.
“I, for one, slept like a log,” Dan announced, as they gathered around the dining room table.
“Me, too,” Jim said.
“I don’t know how I ever started the day without coffee,” Trixie admitted, pouring herself her second cup.
“Christmas pancakes, as promised.” Diana placed a large platter of golden pancakes in the centre of the table with a flourish.
There was a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.
“There’s maple syrup, of course,” the chef said. “And, lucky for us, I found some canned blueberries.”
“Yes, Dan, there is a Santa Claus,” Dan declared happily, helping himself.
“There was a little ham leftover from dinner last night, so I’ve fried that up as well.” Mart deposited another plate and took his seat.
“What a wonderful meal.” Honey beamed at her fellow Bob-Whites.
“Perfectly perfect pancakes, as always, Di,” Brian said as he reached for another.
“I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up,” Jim put in, “but from what I can see out there, it doesn’t look quite so bad.”
All heads turned towards the nearest window as faint light began to illuminate the landscape.
“I’m really not sure what we should do,” Jim admitted. “What do you think Brian?”
“Well, I wish we could get some cell reception and check the weather report,” Brian, shaking his useless cell. “It definitely looks a lot better, but how do we know it isn’t snowing up a storm a hundred miles down the road?”
“Can’t we just trust in a Christmas miracle?” Trixie suggested brightly.
“That sounds good, Trix,” Dan said. “But if we wind up in a snow drift, I’m guessing we won’t be feeling quite so great about it.”
“Dan’s right,” Mart agreed glumly.
“Oh, how I hate having sensible friends,” Trixie grumbled, though her blue eyes twinkled.
“Well, I say we pack up and clean up as if we are going home for Christmas,” Honey suggested. “It won’t take long to unpack again, if we can’t.”
“I second that motion.” Brian banged his fist lightly on the dining room table.
“Let’s get to it, gang.” Jim pushed back his chair and they all got to work.
They were busy at various tasks when a bell clanged loudly outside.
“Definitely someone at the door,” Mart said, and dashed through to the living room to fling open the heavy wooden door.
“Morning, folks.” Even with all his winter garb, Al was recognizable and Mart stood back to let him in.
The rest of the BWGs joined them, expressions cautious but hopeful.
“How did you find everything?” Al asked.
“Oh, it’s been wonderful,” Honey said swiftly. “We so appreciate being able to stay here.”
“Absolutely,” Jim added. “And please let us know what we owe your aunt. We took you at your word and helped ourselves to her pantry supplies.”
Al shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t have eaten that much in so short a time.”
“You don’t know my brother,” Trixie put in.
“Yeah, Brian’s a notorious glutton,” Mart said with a smile.
“One night really isn’t a big deal,” Al said.
“Wait,” Dan said. “One night? Does that mean what I think it means?”
Al nodded. “Weather’s cleared. You guys shouldn’t have any trouble getting home.”
The gathered BWGs applauded.
“That’s terrific.” Trixie beamed.
“Not that this isn’t a very nice place,” Honey added.
Al grinned.
“Now, please we really would like to pay for our stay,” Brian said.
“Don’t worry about,” Al said. “It is Christmas, after all.”
“We insist,” Jim and Brian chorused, causing their friends to laugh.
“Twenty dollars?” Al suggested.
“Hey, we’ll be back at that price,” Mart joked.
Jim and Brian bent their heads together and the former dropped three twenty dollar bills into Al’s hand. “You really did save us last night,” he said
“Fine. Thanks. You folks have a merry Christmas. I’ll just check and see if I need to grab anything.” He nodded to the group and headed towards the kitchen.
“I knew it, I just knew it.” Diana clapped her hands. “Let’s finish packing.”
Forty minutes later, their belongings stowed and goodbyes exchanged with Al, they were on their way.
“The good news is, according to our friend, the weather is clear in upstate New York so provided we don’t run into any trouble in the next couple of hours, we should, indeed, be home for Christmas.” Jim smiled as he spoke.
“I’ll be home for….” Honey began and then stopped singing and turned to Mart. “Sorry. I forgot. No car singing.”
Mart settled back in his seat and tilted his head to one side. “You, know, Honey, I’ve reconsidered my position on car singing.”
“Really?” Honey’s face lit up.
“Really. Let me have it. Anything and everything.”
“’White Christmas’,” Brian said. “It suits my traditional nature, in spite of my token protests about the film last night.
“Anything by Chanticleer,” Dan said. “Gives me the chills—in the best way.”
“’Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer’,” Trixie put in.
“Always the sentimentalist. “Mart grinned.
“Oo, and we have to have the ‘Toy That Saved Christmas’,” Di insisted.
“Veggietales? Seriously?” Mart slid his arm around his girlfriend.
“It was the twins favourite our first Christmas after we moved from town. It was probably the most normal, ordinary thing that year.” Diana defended her choice.
“Can we do some carols, too?” Honey begged.
“How about we start with the obvious?” Jim’s gaze flitted to the rear-view mirror and then back to the road ahead. “Oh, the weather outside is frightful.”
“Although the fire was so delightful, now that we have a place to go,” Honey sang, rearranging the lyrics.
“Stop the snow, stop the snow, stop the snow,” Mart finished.
“That is perfectly perfect,” Trixie declared. “Next please.”
Holidays with the BWGs
Author's notes: It's Secret Santa time! One of the funnest things about Jix. This year I was lucky enough to get Ryl for my SS. Not only is she a creative, talented writer, but she is also a very undemanding giftee. I can only hope that this tale I've crafted, incorporates enough personal elements to resonate with her. I added Pirate Santa, because, well, duh, Ryl! Many thanks to Mal for co-ordinating, organising and making Secret Santa a reality. Biggest hugs to my dearest Dana, who has had the year from that other-unSanta -like place, and still finds time to edit for me. The kitty photos are shameless purloined from various places—it was harder to find BWG kitties than I thought. Thanks to all the SS authors and all who take the time to read.
Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
“More cute than cool,” Mart said. “But I do like mine.”
“How did you find cats that look like us?” Honey marvelled, picking up her elegantly posed feline.
“Well, obviously, cat calendars have been very popular in the family that owns this
place. There were masses of these in with Dan’s wood store, so I figured it was okay to use them. And there was lots of cardboard backing, so…voila.”
“I’m not so sure about my familiar.” Jim held up his cat.
“I love it!” Trixie declared.
“I think, Ms. Lynch has demonstrated both insight and talent in her latest project,” Mart declared.
“That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Mart-kitty is labelled heroic and sensitive, would it?” Brian smiled at his brother.
“A mere coincidence,” Mart returned with a wave of his hand.
“I really appreciate mine,” Honey said, “but, brave and fierce? Really?”
“I stand by each and every word.” Diana shifted her steady violet gaze from one friend to the next. “Sure, I could have said Brian was smart, Trixie was impulsive, Dan was reflective, Jim was honourable, Mart was funny and you were thoughtful, Honey, but we all know that. It’s understood. I wanted to show you all that I can see more things in you, if that makes any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Jim replied.
“Perfectly perfect sense,” Trixie added.
“It’s terrific,” Dan said. “Just like you.”
Diana blushed and dropped her head slightly, a familiar move that caused her dark hair to fall across her face.
“Let’s raise our glasses, or rather our mugs to our very own artist in residence, Ms. Diana Lynch.” Mart stood and held up his mug of coffee.
The others joined him.
“Diana,” they chorused.
“I am definitely feeling a lot more Christmassy,” Diana said, snuggling into her chair and sipping her hot chocolate. “That was a delicious dinner, Honey…and Brian.”
“It turned out better than I thought,” Honey admitted with a smile. “And I’m so glad you guys found that box of Christmas tree lights.”
“It makes a difference, doesn’t it?” Mart agreed.
“And Santa came,” Trixie said, grinning across at Dan, who still wore his pirate gear.
“I’m framing my pussy me when we get home,” Honey declared. Silence followed this remark and she shrugged her slim shoulders. “Fine, that came out wrong, but you know what I mean.”
“We do, and I agree with you.” Dan held up his own feline representation and smiled.
“So, I guess we can grab another one of those board games now,” Mart said, wriggling in his beanbag.
“We could,” Trixie conceded. “Or we could settle in for a Christmas movie night.”
“You’re not planning on re-enacting some classics, are you?” Dan asked, eyes twinkling.
“I think that could be fun,” Honey said. “I know lots of Christmas movies by heart.”
“You should.” Brian pulled his girlfriend a little closer. “Every December and every July, like clockwork. Occasional other random times, too.”
Honey made a face.
“Look,” Brian continued with a smile. “I’m all for a festive film, but do we really have to sit through another screening of White Christmas?”
“Sisters, sisters,” Dan and Mart chorused, both fluttering their eyelashes.
“We have plenty of other options,” Trixie scolded, scrambling off the sofa and moving to the cupboard.
“Videos!” Jim’s brows shot up. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Trixie returned. “And before you doubters start, that ancient television and the video recorder that’s still attached to it, both work fine, so we’re good.”
“Depending on your viewpoint,” Dan quipped.
“Oh, It’s a Wonderful Life. That’s one of my favourites,” Di said.
“How the Grinch Stole Christmas!” Jim’s face lit up.
“A Christmas Carol!” Honey cried. “And it’s the Alistair Sims version. It’s still my favourite, though I haven’t met a version I don’t like.”
“I can attest to that,” Brian said, dark eyes twinkling.
“Let’s start with the Grinch and take it from there,” Trixie suggested. And they all made themselves comfortable.
“You know this Christmas Eve turned out just fine,” Mart said as he switched off the tree lights.
“And tomorrow we’ll be heading home. I can feel it in my bones,” Diana declared.
“Well, the snow has eased,” Jim allowed. “So you might be right.”
“Either way, we’re safe and warm and we have food and…” Trixie turned to Honey. “We do still have food, don’t we?”
Honey’s smile wavered a little, and Di answered instead. “I’ve got all the ingredients ready for a pancake breakfast and there’s plenty of coffee, so the answer is yes.”
“Good.” Dan worked his way out of the beanbag. “Any day that starts with Di’s pancakes is okay by me.”
Christmas morning dawned, and as they all woke early it was still quite dark. It was difficult to know exactly what the weather had planned for them.
Jim and Trixie stirred the fireplaces into action, then the group exchanged hugs and holiday greetings. Diana set to work in the kitchen with Mart acting as assistant chef, and Honey and Brian set the table ready for breakfast.
“I, for one, slept like a log,” Dan announced, as they gathered around the dining room table.
“Me, too,” Jim said.
“I don’t know how I ever started the day without coffee,” Trixie admitted, pouring herself her second cup.
“Christmas pancakes, as promised.” Diana placed a large platter of golden pancakes in the centre of the table with a flourish.
There was a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.
“There’s maple syrup, of course,” the chef said. “And, lucky for us, I found some canned blueberries.”
“Yes, Dan, there is a Santa Claus,” Dan declared happily, helping himself.
“There was a little ham leftover from dinner last night, so I’ve fried that up as well.” Mart deposited another plate and took his seat.
“What a wonderful meal.” Honey beamed at her fellow Bob-Whites.
“Perfectly perfect pancakes, as always, Di,” Brian said as he reached for another.
“I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up,” Jim put in, “but from what I can see out there, it doesn’t look quite so bad.”
All heads turned towards the nearest window as faint light began to illuminate the landscape.
“I’m really not sure what we should do,” Jim admitted. “What do you think Brian?”
“Well, I wish we could get some cell reception and check the weather report,” Brian, shaking his useless cell. “It definitely looks a lot better, but how do we know it isn’t snowing up a storm a hundred miles down the road?”
“Can’t we just trust in a Christmas miracle?” Trixie suggested brightly.
“That sounds good, Trix,” Dan said. “But if we wind up in a snow drift, I’m guessing we won’t be feeling quite so great about it.”
“Dan’s right,” Mart agreed glumly.
“Oh, how I hate having sensible friends,” Trixie grumbled, though her blue eyes twinkled.
“Well, I say we pack up and clean up as if we are going home for Christmas,” Honey suggested. “It won’t take long to unpack again, if we can’t.”
“I second that motion.” Brian banged his fist lightly on the dining room table.
“Let’s get to it, gang.” Jim pushed back his chair and they all got to work.
They were busy at various tasks when a bell clanged loudly outside.
“Definitely someone at the door,” Mart said, and dashed through to the living room to fling open the heavy wooden door.
“Morning, folks.” Even with all his winter garb, Al was recognizable and Mart stood back to let him in.
The rest of the BWGs joined them, expressions cautious but hopeful.
“How did you find everything?” Al asked.
“Oh, it’s been wonderful,” Honey said swiftly. “We so appreciate being able to stay here.”
“Absolutely,” Jim added. “And please let us know what we owe your aunt. We took you at your word and helped ourselves to her pantry supplies.”
Al shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t have eaten that much in so short a time.”
“You don’t know my brother,” Trixie put in.
“Yeah, Brian’s a notorious glutton,” Mart said with a smile.
“One night really isn’t a big deal,” Al said.
“Wait,” Dan said. “One night? Does that mean what I think it means?”
Al nodded. “Weather’s cleared. You guys shouldn’t have any trouble getting home.”
The gathered BWGs applauded.
“That’s terrific.” Trixie beamed.
“Not that this isn’t a very nice place,” Honey added.
Al grinned.
“Now, please we really would like to pay for our stay,” Brian said.
“Don’t worry about,” Al said. “It is Christmas, after all.”
“We insist,” Jim and Brian chorused, causing their friends to laugh.
“Twenty dollars?” Al suggested.
“Hey, we’ll be back at that price,” Mart joked.
Jim and Brian bent their heads together and the former dropped three twenty dollar bills into Al’s hand. “You really did save us last night,” he said
“Fine. Thanks. You folks have a merry Christmas. I’ll just check and see if I need to grab anything.” He nodded to the group and headed towards the kitchen.
“I knew it, I just knew it.” Diana clapped her hands. “Let’s finish packing.”
Forty minutes later, their belongings stowed and goodbyes exchanged with Al, they were on their way.
“The good news is, according to our friend, the weather is clear in upstate New York so provided we don’t run into any trouble in the next couple of hours, we should, indeed, be home for Christmas.” Jim smiled as he spoke.
“I’ll be home for….” Honey began and then stopped singing and turned to Mart. “Sorry. I forgot. No car singing.”
Mart settled back in his seat and tilted his head to one side. “You, know, Honey, I’ve reconsidered my position on car singing.”
“Really?” Honey’s face lit up.
“Really. Let me have it. Anything and everything.”
“’White Christmas’,” Brian said. “It suits my traditional nature, in spite of my token protests about the film last night.
“Anything by Chanticleer,” Dan said. “Gives me the chills—in the best way.”
“’Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer’,” Trixie put in.
“Always the sentimentalist. “Mart grinned.
“Oo, and we have to have the ‘Toy That Saved Christmas’,” Di insisted.
“Veggietales? Seriously?” Mart slid his arm around his girlfriend.
“It was the twins favourite our first Christmas after we moved from town. It was probably the most normal, ordinary thing that year.” Diana defended her choice.
“Can we do some carols, too?” Honey begged.
“How about we start with the obvious?” Jim’s gaze flitted to the rear-view mirror and then back to the road ahead. “Oh, the weather outside is frightful.”
“Although the fire was so delightful, now that we have a place to go,” Honey sang, rearranging the lyrics.
“Stop the snow, stop the snow, stop the snow,” Mart finished.
“That is perfectly perfect,” Trixie declared. “Next please.”
Holidays with the BWGs
Author's notes: It's Secret Santa time! One of the funnest things about Jix. This year I was lucky enough to get Ryl for my SS. Not only is she a creative, talented writer, but she is also a very undemanding giftee. I can only hope that this tale I've crafted, incorporates enough personal elements to resonate with her. I added Pirate Santa, because, well, duh, Ryl! Many thanks to Mal for co-ordinating, organising and making Secret Santa a reality. Biggest hugs to my dearest Dana, who has had the year from that other-unSanta -like place, and still finds time to edit for me. The kitty photos are shameless purloined from various places—it was harder to find BWG kitties than I thought. Thanks to all the SS authors and all who take the time to read.
Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
