Chapter 2 — Paths Crossed on Ice

Evie

The morning sun broke through the gray clouds, casting a pale golden glow over Pineberry Falls. Evie pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped outside Snowdrop Cottage, the cold air nipping at her face. The snow beneath her boots crunched with each step, a comforting sound against the quiet stillness of the town. She had barely slept, her mind turning over thoughts of Aunt Clara, the sketches in the studio, and the uncertain path she was now treading. But today, she resolved, would be different. She needed to venture out, to see if this place could truly feel like home.

The road into town wound gently through snow-draped pines, their branches heavy with last night’s snowfall. Evie walked slowly, letting the serenity of the landscape sink in. The world seemed to glisten here, each snowflake catching the light like a tiny jewel. It reminded her of one of the sketches she’d found in her aunt’s box—a snowflake on the verge of melting, its beauty fleeting but unforgettable. That image lingered in her mind, a quiet reminder of fragile beginnings.

As she approached the edge of the town, the timber-framed buildings of Pineberry Falls came into view, nestled around the cozy main square. Smoke spiraled lazily from chimneys, and a few residents bustled about, their laughter and chatter drifting on the crisp air. Evie paused, her breath misting in front of her. She felt like an outsider looking in on a snow globe—a perfect little world she wasn’t sure she belonged to. Her hesitation deepened as she watched the warmth of the townsfolk's interactions, a pang of longing settling in her chest. Shaking off the thought, she steeled herself and turned down a quieter street, wanting to explore without drawing attention.

The buildings here had a lived-in charm, their wooden signs hand-carved and painted with care. She wondered absently about the craftspeople behind them, imagining how their stories might intertwine with this town’s traditions. As she passed the bakery, the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked bread wafted out, making her stomach rumble. The warmth of the aroma pulled at her, but she kept walking, determined to take in more of the town.

Lost in her thoughts, Evie didn’t notice the patch of ice until it was too late. Her foot slid forward, her arms flailing as she fought to keep her balance.

“Whoa—look out!”

Before she could hit the ground, strong hands caught her, steadying her with surprising gentleness. Evie looked up, her heart racing, and found herself face-to-face with a man whose piercing blue eyes seemed to hold both warmth and something deeper—sorrow, perhaps. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his weathered face framed by short, dark blond hair with hints of gray at the temples.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low and steady, the kind of voice that seemed to carry more weight than the words themselves.

Evie nodded, words momentarily escaping her. Up close, he smelled faintly of sawdust and pine, an oddly comforting combination. “I—I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” she managed, brushing snow off her coat as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“You’ve got to watch out for black ice,” he said, his tone quiet but not unkind. “It’s everywhere this time of year.”

“Clearly,” Evie replied, her tone self-deprecating. “I guess I’ve got some learning to do.” She gave a small, wry smile. “Thank you for catching me. That could’ve been… much worse.”

He nodded, his expression softening, though a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. “It’s nothing.”

Before Evie could say anything more, a small voice called out from the doorway of a nearby building.

“Daddy, who’s that?”

Evie turned to see a little girl peeking out, her bright blue eyes identical to the man’s. She was bundled up in mismatched winter clothes—a striped hat, a polka-dot scarf, and mittens that didn’t quite match. Her curly golden-brown hair peeked out from beneath her hat, framing a gap-toothed smile.

“Lily, get back inside,” the man called, though his tone was more protective than stern.

Lily stepped back but kept watching curiously, her head tilted as if she were trying to figure Evie out. “She’s pretty,” Lily said, her voice carrying a childlike honesty that made Evie’s cheeks warm further.

“Sorry about her. She’s… curious,” the man said, turning back to Evie with an almost sheepish look.

“Don’t apologize,” Evie said, smiling despite her lingering awkwardness. “She’s adorable.”

The man hesitated, seeming unsure of what to say next. Finally, he extended a hand. “Jack Mason.”

“Evie Thomas,” she replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but not overbearing, his skin roughened by years of hard work.

“You’re new in town,” Jack observed, though it wasn’t really a question.

“Yes, I’m, uh, staying at Snowdrop Cottage,” Evie explained, feeling a sudden self-consciousness under his gaze. “House-sitting for my aunt.”

Jack’s expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as if the name stirred something in him. “Clara’s niece,” he said slowly, as though piecing something together. “She spoke about you sometimes. Said you were an artist.”

Evie felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t visited Aunt Clara as often as she should have, and now it seemed the whole town might know more about her than she expected. “I… try to be,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her self-doubt.

“Daddy!” Lily called again, her tone impatient now.

Jack glanced toward the workshop door, then back at Evie. “I should get back. If you ever need some help getting settled, let me know. Everyone here knows each other, so… it’s not always easy being new.”

“Thank you,” Evie said, surprised by the unexpected kindness.

Jack nodded once and turned to go, his boots crunching against the snow. Lily waved enthusiastically before disappearing inside, leaving Evie standing alone on the icy street.

She took a deep breath, her heart still racing—not from the fall, but from the strange, fleeting connection she’d felt with Jack. There was something about him, something guarded yet genuine, that lingered in her mind as she continued her walk. And Lily… her curious smile and innocent honesty stirred something almost maternal in Evie, though she couldn’t quite name it.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of quiet observations. Evie wandered through the town, taking in the details that made Pineberry Falls so unique—the handmade ornaments hanging in shop windows, the scent of pine mingling with fresh pastries, and the occasional glimpse of townsfolk greeting each other warmly. She found herself sketching small scenes in her mind: the way the snow wrapped around the storefronts like a quilt, or the faint glow of lanterns strung along the streets. Still, the idea of putting pencil to paper felt daunting, a road she wasn’t quite ready to travel.

By the time she returned to Snowdrop Cottage, her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her fingers were numb despite her gloves. She set her things down and made herself a cup of tea, letting the warmth seep into her hands as she sat by the bay window.

Her thoughts drifted back to Jack and Lily. There had been something about the way Jack had looked at her—not unkind, but cautious, as though he were weighing whether to trust her. And Lily… her bright curiosity had been a sharp contrast to his guarded demeanor, like sunlight cutting through a clouded sky.

Evie sipped her tea and glanced at the blank sketchbook lying on the table. The snow outside continued to fall, each flake a delicate masterpiece. She thought of Aunt Clara’s words about painting over doubt with light. Maybe tomorrow, she’d try again.

For now, she let herself rest, the memory of Jack’s steady hands and Lily’s gap-toothed smile lingering in her mind like faint sketches waiting to be filled in.