Snowstorms & Sleigh Bells: A Stitch in Time holiday novella by Kelley Armstrong

Author:Kelley Armstrong [Armstrong, Kelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781989046388
Publisher: K.L.A. Fricke Inc

We play dreidel by the woodstove as the wind howls and snow beats against the windowpanes. It’s far from the holiday evening I imagined when I woke this morning, but it is a memory we will cherish after we have forgotten any other.

I shudder to imagine how late it must be when we finally fall asleep in the hay. Edmund goes first, and I think perhaps August and I will stay awake, unable to sleep in such a place. But I snuggle down with him to talk and before I know it, I am in dreamland.

I haven’t been sleeping long when I wake. I feel straw beneath my fingers, and I’m thrown back to those early weeks in the twenty-first century, nights spent wherever I could find shelter.

I bolt upright, gasping for air, terror slamming through me.

I’m still there. I never left. I didn’t get home. I—

“Mama?”

I look to see Edmund standing in an open doorway, bathed in moonlight. He looks ethereal. Unreal. A spirit come to haunt my dreams and torment me, and I scramble up, clawing at the straw as I rise and sprint to him. I snatch him up.

Real. He is real. Warm and alive.

“Mama?”

I hear the trepidation in his voice, and I set him down, gulping air as I hug him and stumble over apologies.

“It’s all right, Edmund,” August says behind me. A warm hand goes around my waist. “Your mama had a nightmare. That is all.”

Shame licks through me, and I start to apologize to both of them, but August pulls me to him and whispers in my ear, “Patience, remember? You have all you need from me, but you must grant it to yourself as well. No apologies.”

My eyes prickle as I nod. Then I draw in a deep breath, cold air searing my lungs as I realize where we are. In the barn. Standing at the door. Which was open when I grabbed Edmund. That’s what woke me—the draft of ice-cold air.

“Edmund?” I say carefully. “Were you going outside?”

“No, Mama. I was listening to the sleigh bells.”

“Ah, do you hear them, too? I did earlier. There are no sleighs here, though. Not the kind with bells anyway, and it is far too late for anyone to be out playing in the snow. I think it is wind chimes. From the house.”

Edmund shakes his head. “It is sleigh bells. Do you not hear them?”

I pop my head outside. The storm has abated, and the night is silent, the now-cloudless sky stretching above with endless stars.

“It is a very pretty night,” I say. “But I fear I do not hear any bells.”

“I do,” he says, frowning. “Even with the door closed.”

I glance at August, who moves closer to lean out and then shakes his head. “Your hearing must be far better than ours, Edmund.”

“No,” Edmund says firmly. “I hear them, Papa. Nearby. The sound of sleigh bells.”

We look at each other. The night is definitely silent.

“What did you hear earlier, Rosie?” August asks.

“I thought it was also sleigh bells, but very distant.

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