They clambered out of the sled and pulled on snowshoes.

Zac held Holly’s hand as she tackled the snow, sliding and stumbling as she practiced this new art. She fell, giggling, and Suka was by her side in a moment, tail wagging furiously, nudging her to get up. Zac scooped up the little girl, set her carefully on her feet and then did the whole thing over again when she stumbled.

“He’s good with her.” Robyn hauled a backpack out of the sled. “Patient.”

“Yes.”

Robyn secured the backpack and stepped closer to Alix. “This probably seems like a strange request—” she cleared her throat “—but I’d love to hear more about Christy.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything. I haven’t seen her since she was three years old.” Her voice shook. “It was...” She stared into the forest, and Alix waited.

Should she prompt her? Had she changed her mind about talking about it?

“Don’t feel you have to—”

“I’m sorry.” Robyn gave her a brief, awkward smile. “I’ve trained myself not to think about it. It’s not easy to talk about.”

Alix had no idea what to say.

“Family is often difficult. Complicated.”

“You sound as if you know.”

It was Alix’s turn to feel awkward. To her, family equaled pain. She wondered if Robyn was the same. “I’m no expert on relationships, I can tell you that.”

“Me, neither. It was at Christmas, did you know that?”

Alix shook her head. She was pretty sure Christy didn’t know, either.

Christmas. Was that significant? The festive season was often a tense time for families, of course, but she’d always had a feeling the rift between Elizabeth and Robyn was of a long-standing nature.

She watched her breath form clouds in the air and zipped her coat a little higher. “You asked me about Christy. She loves Christmas. Always has.” What else was she prepared to say that didn’t feel like a betrayal of confidences? “She’s kind. Generous. Loves clothes. She’s artistic—” she frowned “—she works as a graphic designer, but you can see her artistic talent in everything she does from a table setting to decorating Holly’s bedroom. She has style. She’s incredibly organized, likes everything to be a certain way. Ends her day making a list for the following day...”

Robyn nodded. “Her mother was the same.”

“She likes things to be perfect,” Alix said and thought about the conversation with Zac, “and that’s not always easy to handle. She’s loyal. And gentle. She hates any sort of confrontation. When a kid in school stole her lunch, I was the one who got a black eye getting it back. If you’ve upset her, she’s unlikely to tell you unless you press her hard.”

Robyn pulled up the hood of her coat. “And Seb?”

Alix was still deep in her own thoughts. “Sorry?”

“Is Seb good for her?”

Alix saw Zac glance at her and knew he’d heard the question and was likely listening to her answer. “Yes,” she croaked. “They seem happy together.”