Snow crunches as I head to my car; it’s melted a little from the warmer temperature of the past week but still covering most of the ground. It’s rare that we have this much snow in November. In the city, I’m not a fan of it. Molly has made a mess every single day after our runs in the past month. But here, it gives an even more magical element to this place. Like we’re truly in another world. The view is one of my favorite things about coming here.

Because of the milder temperature, some parts of the gravel driveway have melted while others are still icy, creating a dangerous path for me and my pretty-but-horribly-useless boots. Thankfully, I get to my car in one piece.

Today was a heavy day of work, more emotionally than mentally. I’ll enjoy doing nothing while petting May’s little head tonight.

Once I’ve put my bag at the foot of the passenger seat, I start the engine.

Except nothing happens.

I try, then try again, but despite all my best efforts, the sound of my motor drowning remains the only thing I hear.

Crap.

How will I get back to my girls?

I remove the key, then put it back in and try again for what must be the tenth time. No luck. Slowly, I move my hands to my lips, exhaling through my nose. Shit.

This is so embarrassing. I need someone to help me, but then again, the last thing I want is to go back there and ask for it when I’m supposed to be helping them.

Luck is seemingly on my side tonight because just as the thought appears, a knock comes from my car window. Jumping, I turn and find Aaron there, hunched. He motions for me to open the door.

“You okay?” he asks once I’ve obliged, his five-o’clock shadow darker in the fading daylight.

“Sure,” I say, only half sarcastic.

Ignoring me, Aaron says, “Heard some not-so-great noises from the house, so thought I’d come see.” He dips his head toward my hood. “Need a hand?”

Do I want to crawl into a hole right now? Absolutely. But what choice do I have?

With a small nod, I get out of the car.

“Be right back,” Aaron says before he jogs to his car and drives it next to mine.

He’s not dressed in his usual outdoor clothes. With a long black wool coat, a navy crewneck sweater and chinos, he looks more like the man I met this summer than the lumberjack I’ve seen around the place in the past two weeks.