Laura Altom - The SEAL's Christmas Twins

At nine, everything was closed. Only three other parties waited for the night’s last incoming flight from Anchorage.

The infants, finally sleeping in their carriers, had been heavy, but not near as heavy as the pain squeezing Hattie’s heart.

Her sister Melissa’s husband’s twin-engine Cessna had gone down in bad weather on Tuesday. Alec died upon impact, but Melissa lived long enough for a search-and-rescue team to get her to an Anchorage hospital, where she’d passed Wednesday morning.

The realization that her sister was well and truly gone hadn’t quite sunk in. It felt more like a nightmare from which she couldn’t wake.

Alec’s parents, Taylor and Cindy, understandably hadn’t taken the news well. They’d retired in Miami, and it was their flight she was meeting. They planned to be in town until Saturday’s double funeral. After that, Hattie wasn’t sure of their plans—or anyone’s plans for that matter. Would her parents and Alec’s share custody of the twins?

Covering her face with her hands, Hattie fought a fresh wave of the nausea that she hadn’t been able to shake since she’d first heard the news of Melissa’s accident. Granted, people of all ages died all the time. Funerals were a sad fact of life, but having a close family member die didn’t seem possible.

Then there was Mason...

Yeah. She’d table thoughts of him for another time. Too much history. Way too much pain on top of an already-crushing amount of grief.

Steeling herself for her eventual reunion with him at her sister’s funeral, then again at Sunday’s reading of the will, Hattie was thankful that she wouldn’t have to see him until then. Despite the fact that she’d had years apart from him to think of what she might say should she ever see him again, she still couldn’t quite string together the words.

How was she supposed to act around the one guy she’d secretly adored? The guy who hadn’t just gotten away, but had married and divorced her sister?

Minutes elongated into what felt like hours.

She tried playing a game on her phone but, after losing a dozen times, gave up.

Finally, the drone of the twin-engine Piper Chieftain taxiing to the passenger offloading area signaled the near-end of her grueling night. She doubted she’d even be able to sleep, but if she did, the break from reality would be most welcome.

She rose to wait for Alec’s parents. Since the twins were still sleeping, she left them in the seating area that was only thirty feet from the incoming passengers’ door.

“Hattie?”

She glanced to her left only to get a shock. Mason’s dad, Jerry Brown, stood alongside her, holding out his arms for a hug. “Girl, it’s been ages since I last saw you—though I hear you and Fern visit all the time.”

“True. I can’t get enough of her shortbread cookies.” Fern was Jerry’s neighbor. She was getting on in years, and Hattie enjoyed chatting with her. What she didn’t enjoy was passing Mason’s old house. The mere sight reminded her of happier times, which was why she hustled by, carefully avoiding a possible meeting with Jerry. The last thing she wanted was to hear about his son. For hearing about Mason would only serve as a reminder of how much he was missed.

He laughed. “That makes two of us.” His smile faded. “Addressing the elephant in the room, how’re you and your folks coping? Both your sister and Alec gone...” He shook his head. “One helluva blow.”

“Yeah.” She swallowed back tears. “I’m here to pick up Alec’s parents.”

“I’m grabbing Mason. It’ll be damn good to see him, though I wish our visit was under happier circumstances.”

Mason will be here? Now? As in the next thirty seconds?

Considering her sister had just died, fashion hadn’t topped her priorities. Hattie wore jeans, a faded Green Bay Packers sweatshirt a patron had left at her bar, and she’d crammed her hair into a messy bun—as for makeup, it hadn’t even occurred to her. Jeez, what is wrong with you? Why are you worried about how you look?

She shook her head, suddenly feeling jittery.

Sure, she’d known Mason would be coming for the funeral, but she’d assumed they wouldn’t run into each other until Saturday. This was too soon. What would she say or do?

Whereas moments earlier grief had slowed her pulse, panic now caused it to race. She couldn’t see him. Not yet.

And then an airline representative stole all options for possible escape by opening the doors. In strode Mason. Out went her last shred of confidence.

She took a few steps back into a shadow. With luck, Mason wouldn’t even see her.

The plan proved simple, yet effective, as Mason and his dad were soon caught up in their reunion.

Two strangers entered the terminal, and then Alec’s parents. What were their thoughts about Mason having been on their flight? Or were they so absorbed in their grief, they hadn’t noticed?

“Cindy? Taylor?” Hattie waved them over. “Hi. How was your flight?”

Cindy’s eyes appeared red and sunken, her expression hollow. Taylor didn’t look much better.

“It was fine,” Taylor said, “but we’re ready to call it a day.”

“I understand. Should I get a cart for your luggage?”

He shook his head. “We don’t have much.”

“Okay, well...I’ll grab the twins, and we’ll be on our way.” Awkward didn’t begin to describe the moment, especially when she accidentally glanced in Mason’s direction, but he turned away. Purposely? She hoped not.

* * *

SUNDAY AFTERNOON MASON shoveled for all he was worth, but still couldn’t keep up with the mid-October snow. Located on the eastern shore of Prince William Sound, Conifer was known for impressive snowfalls. As an oblivious kid, he’d spent hours happily building forts and snowmen and, if he’d been really ambitious, even tunnels. Now he needed to dig out his dad’s old truck, carefully avoiding the passenger-side door, which was barely attached to the vehicle after it had been rammed by an angry plow driver some ten years earlier.

His dad’s trailer was dwarfed by towering Sitka spruce. Mason used to like playing hide-and-seek in them. Now, having grown used to the open sea, the dark forest made him feel trapped.

It had been six long years since he’d been home.

Best as he could remember, he’d once enjoyed the whisper of wind through the boughs. Today, the world had fallen silent beneath the deepening blanket of snow. If pressed, he’d have to admit the evergreen and ice-laced air smelled damned good. Fresh and clean—the way his life used to be.

“This is the last place I expected to see you.”

“Same could be said of you.” Mason glanced toward the familiar voice to find little Hattie Beaumont all grown up. He’d seen her in the airport when he’d come in, but with Alec’s parents having been there, the timing was all wrong for any kind of meaningful conversation. That morning, at the funeral, hadn’t been much better. “Not a great day for an afternoon stroll.”

“I like it.” At the funeral, he’d been so preoccupied, he hadn’t fully absorbed the fact that the former tomboy had matured into a full-on looker. She was part Inuit, and the snow falling on her long dark hair struck him as beautiful. Her brown eyes lacked her usual mischievous sparkle, but then, given the circumstances, he supposed that was to be expected. “Feels good getting out of the house.”

“Agreed.” He rested his gloved hands on the shovel’s handle. “Snow expected to stop anytime soon?”

“Mom says we could see ten inches by morning.”

“Swell.” Around here, pilots flew through just about anything Mother Nature blew their way, but a major storm could put a kink in his plans to fly out first thing in the morning.