The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates

      My pulse skidded with shock. I couldn’t imagine how Mom had found the strength to walk with the lifeless little girl in her arms. I laid my hand across her arm as tears slid down my cheeks. “But Mom, don’t you see, it wasn’t your fault? You built a maze that would have drawn tourists to the lodge. You couldn’t have foreseen an accident like that would happen.”

      She wiped at her face, pulling her arm away almost angrily. “It was my fault, Clio. I should have known to search for her here. I just wasn’t thinking at all. I’d been so worried she was in the lake that I completely forgot about the scavenger-hunt prizes, and how curious she’d been. I should have known she’d come here.”

      I shook my head, but she was so adamant, though I just couldn’t see how this could ever be her fault. It was a tragedy, yes, but it had been an accident. “Her parents didn’t blame you, though, did they?” I said in a small voice.

      Mom hugged herself tight, looking torn. “I don’t know. They were in shock, completely and utterly grief-stricken. Morty kept trying to revive her, pressed his mouth against her blue lips and tried to breathe life back into her. His wife was on her knees keening, a primal sound I still hear every night when I try to sleep. Police came, the guests left, and the lodge closed. I couldn’t face anyone. I locked myself away, and Bessie says I had a breakdown, not that I remember it really. I spent some time in a psychiatric hospital, but that felt like cheating because the drugs numbed all thought and that wasn’t fair to Tabitha.

      I had to suffer like she suffered, so eventually I came home. By then, Morty had left. Just walked out the door one night. Clio, their grief shattered their lives and wrenched them apart. Eventually his wife left too. Just abandoned the place. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I wouldn’t have, probably. I never wanted to see them again, knowing the blame I’d see in their eyes when they looked at me.”

      I cried with Mom, for all the hurt, all the guilt she felt. The way she’d suffered her whole life for an accident that truly wasn’t her fault. Choking back her sobs she turned to me, and said, “Then I met your dad. I didn’t want to fall in love, but I did. I definitely didn’t want to have children, but then you came along… I was happy, which felt like the worst kind betrayal. How could I have a child when they’d lost theirs? But I loved you, how I loved you the very moment I met you. And then I thought, but what if I lose you too? What if you were snatched away as punishment? It was easier to hold myself back from you, not to tempt fate by showing how I felt. Not giving into those overwhelming feelings of love.”

      “Oh, Mom…” I’d never in a million years have guessed it was all as complicated as that. What a waste her life had been, punishing herself, and pushing me away so I wouldn’t get taken from her, because she felt she didn’t deserve to have a child she loved. I moved to hug her. Her shoulders were wracked with sobs and I stroked her back, hoping to comfort her.

      “You have to let the past go, Mom. You can’t keep blaming yourself.”

      She sniffed and nodded. “I know. But it just feels so wrong, like I’m disgracing her memory.”

      “You’ve suffered long enough, Mom. No one would begrudge you happiness. No one.”

      She remained silent and I thought about the Evergreen townsfolk and how well they’d kept her secret. “You realize no one spoke out of turn about you? All the people I asked kept their lips clamped closed because they didn’t want you to have to relive it. That says a lot about you, and the way Evergreen locals regard you, Mom. They don’t blame you, so maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”

      She nodded stiffly but didn’t speak, and together we turned to stare at the maze, the place that had haunted her for so long. Would she finally forgive herself? Surely she’d lived with this grief for far too long now.

      ***

      “Let’s take Scotty for a walk?” Amory asked, interrupting my thoughts, her eyes clouded with concern for me. Since Mom had left I’d been staring out the bay window, watching the snow drift lazily down while I tried to reconcile everything I’d heard. I nodded. A walk would do me good.

      “You’d better put his little vest on,” I said, glancing at the overexcited puppy, who’d just learned the meaning of ‘walk’.

      I’d laughed over the last week as packages had arrived for Amory at an endless rate. She’d found an online doggie designer who made everything from coats to t-shirts. I’d have put money on the fact that Scotty’s mini wardrobe probably had more designer labels than mine.

      “Ah, so you’re saying you don’t think my puppy purchases were so silly now?” She arched a brow.

      I giggled. “Well, I think a doggy jumper is probably wise in the snow… I’m just not sure about the design.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Doggy denim is hot right now, and how much does it suit the caramel tones of his fur?”

      “Oh my God, you’re one of the designer doggie moms. How sad for you, Amory.” Scotty tried to escape her clutches as she wrestled yet another doggy jumper on him.

      “Yeah, I know! How sad am I.” She giggled, not sad in the slightest.

      We wound on scarves, and made our way outside, the cold, crisp air stealing the breath from my lungs.

      “Have you spoken to Kai today? I didn’t see him at breakfast, which is unlike him,” she said, wrinkling her brow.

      “He was heading to the chalets the last time I saw him, but then Mom came over…” I trailed off, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

      “God, that view just never gets old,” Amory said, pointing to the snow-covered mountains in the distance, gray, somber skies above filling the silence we’d lapsed into. “It always sort of shocks me when I walk outside and see the sky, rather than a skyscraper. It stuns me for a second, every single time, and then I wonder how I lived so long without a place like Cedarwood in my life. If I had to leave Evergreen, I’d miss it every single day.”

      Gone was the high-heel-wearing Manhattanite, gone was the girl who’d spend an hour doing her hair every single morning. Cedarwood had gotten under her skin, she’d swapped heels for boots, sleep-ins for morning walks, and straight hair for windblown curls. Life was so much easier here, so natural.

      Scotty ran past us, barking at a rabbit who hopped past, easily evading his curiosity.

      “So, are you going to tell me what happened with your mom?” Amory asked.

      I spent the next hour explaining everything to my best friend, how I’d felt growing up, and what I thought would happen to my mom now the secret was out.

      “Golly, goes to show you just never know what someone is really going through,” she said, shaking her head.

      “I know,” I replied with a nod.

      Amory hugged herself tight, calling Scotty back from the dense foliage by the lake. “I think you did the right thing, getting her to come out here. To explain it to you in person and face up to the past. Now you can both finally move forward. It’s time to focus on the future.”

      “What about the maze?”

      “Ask your mom. Involve her in it. What does she want? Really, you can understand if she wanted it to remain hidden. Maybe you could plant a rose garden there, in memory of the child. Something to honor her, and what happened.”

      “That’s a great idea, Amory. It would be nice to remember Tabitha, not hide away from it any more.” I gazed out across the expanse of water, still frozen, waiting for spring to come bringing its thaw. “Maybe it would also give Mom a sense of closure.”

      “Oh, darling, it definitely would. I mean, look at what your mom’s been through, and how she punished herself for so long over a tragic accident. It’s so bloody sad. I hope she starts to forgive herself soon.”

      “Me too.” I turned back to my best friend and smiled, feeling the pressure of the secret