John slowly lifted himself off the edge of Bella’s bed and looked down at his daughter. Her long, dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks. She turned in her sleep, cuddling her favorite soft toy close to her chest.
They’d spent the day with his brother, sliding down one of the hills on his ranch, making snowmen and Christmas angels, and anything else Bella wanted to do. After more than one game of Scrabble and a dinner of homemade pizza, Bella had arrived home tired, but happy. She’d pulled on her pajamas and crawled into bed, ready for the beginning of her favorite book.
John had read Anne of Green Gables so many times that he could almost recite the whole story word-for-word. They’d only just made it to the end of chapter four before Bella fell into a deep sleep. He kissed the top of her head, pulled her blankets up so that she didn’t get cold during the night, and tiptoed out of her room.
Halfway along the hallway, he reached down and turned the night-light on. The soft pink glow lit the way to the bathroom. It gave Bella a sense of security, an independence she wouldn’t have had without it.
He looked at the book in his hand, then back at Bella’s room. He didn’t want to risk waking her up, so he took it into the living room and left it on the coffee table.
It was eight-thirty on Sunday night. Snow had been falling for the last four hours, coating everything with a deceptive picture-perfect veneer. Regardless of what they’d have to do tomorrow to dig their way out, it was the kind of evening that he’d always enjoyed.