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While Cobie tells me all about her day of baking with Trixie and Willa, I spend the evening downloading the hundreds of photos I’ve captured over the last three days. Each sequence tells a story of the enchanting life in Lake Mistletoe.
Sela and I spent the afternoon strolling the streets of the city and talking to every person we passed by. Each one with a unique perspective of what makes this town so magical.
I made a ton of mental notes to share with Dawn before I leave.
My favorite shots of the day are of Sela in the café, Sela showing me her skating skills at the ice rink, and Sela posing with a snowman—dressed in an overcoat and wire-framed glasses with a bright red leash in his tree-branch hand, attached to a snowy four-legged friend.
I laugh at her expression as she takes in the perfectly sculpted bulldog with a black button nose.
“What’s so funny, Daddy?” Cobie asks, climbing down from the bed and into my lap in front of the computer.
“I think Sela made a friend today,” I tell her as I point out the frame.
“Is that a puppy?” she squeals.
“Yep. A snow pup.”
“Can we make one?” she asks.
“I don’t think I’m that artistically inclined, but we can build a snowman before we leave if you want.”
“Yes! I’ll ask Miss Alice for a carrot, and it can wear one of my scarves and my mittens.”
I look down at her, and it hits me that I’ve never played in the snow with my daughter. Not once in her eight years of life.
I swallow back the emotion and make her a promise. “We’ll build a snowman, make snow angels, and challenge Keller to a snowball fight.”
Her eyes light up. “Can Lexie play too?”
“If it’s okay with her parents,” I agree, and Cobie jumps down and runs to tell her new friend of our plans.
My phone chimes, and I pick it up and wake the screen.
It’s a text from Dawn, informing me that her husband’s band got a gig playing at the Sun Valley Resort Hotel tomorrow so they flew in a couple of days early and would be arriving at the inn before dinner.
I tap out a reply and go in search of Cobie.
“We’re here!”
I look up from my plate of confections to see my coworker Dawn Taylor and her husband, Daniel, standing in the doorway of the great room.
Dawn and I both joined the creative team atEpic Odysseysaround the same time. She had come over from an online fashion magazine under the same imprint that went dark.
Fashion and gossip are her wheelhouse, but as soon as she started getting paid to travel to five-star resorts, exotic regions, and cozy, romantic locations, she fell in love with the world of travel journalism.
Dawn’s short blonde bob is hidden under a wool cap that matches her cashmere turtleneck. Daniel is in a dark gray henley, topped by a black jean jacket. A guitar case in one hand and the handle of a large suitcase in the other.
“Glad you guys made it safe and sound,” I say.
The temperature dropped below freezing, the snowfall turned to ice, and the wind kicked up about an hour ago, making for treacherous road conditions.
“We rented a beast of a truck. Luckily, Daniel here can drive just about anything with wheels.”
“That’ll come in handy here,” I quip.
“What are you doing?” Dawn asks as she looks around the room.
I sit, surrounded by an array of colorful icing, sprinkles, and freshly baked Christmas cookies.
