Page 123 of Inferno
Chapter 30
Nestled deep in the Rocky Mountains, the picturesque ski lodge was perched high on a bluff that overlooked rolling hills blanketed in sparkling snow. The day after Thanksgiving, the mountains would be filled with skiers zipping and swerving down the steep slopes.
But for today, the whitewashed landscape was stunningly beautiful and serene.
Inside the luxurious cabin, a cozy fire roared in the twenty-foot fireplace, and the sounds of festive holiday cheer permeated every room, along with the fragrant aromas wafting from the large kitchen, where dinner preparations were under way.
Mama Wolf bustled about with pots and pans, rattling off orders like an army general. The other occupants of the room—Dinah, Georgina, Winnie, Maya and Zora—obeyed the family matriarch’s commands without hesitation, and the result of the women’s combined efforts promised to be a Thanksgiving feast to rival all others.
Surveying the harmonious scene from where she stood at the picture windows in the living room, Prissy smiled contentedly. She’d been helping with dinner preparations when the appealing sounds of rowdy male laughter had lured her to the windows that overlooked the sprawling front lawn, where the menfolk’s smash-mouth football game had evolved into an equally competitive snowball fight.
As Prissy watched with quiet amusement, Manning nailed Magnum squarely in the chest with a huge snowball, drawing roars of laughter and sympathetic groans from the others. Grinning triumphantly, Manning pointed at his brother’s stunned face and declared smugly, “Payback for yesterday.”
Taking pity on his younger son, Stan sauntered over and draped a consoling arm around Magnum’s shoulders. As their heads bent conspiratorially together, Manning eyed them with a wary grin, bracing himself for any retaliatory sneak attacks. Meanwhile, Michael and Marcus snuck up behind Sterling and playfully tackled him to the snowy ground. Sterling bellowed with laughter as he wrestled with his sons, a sight that warmed Prissy’s heart and brought a tender smile to her face.
Lifting her gaze to the bright blue sky, she imagined that somewhere up in heaven, Bishop Wolf was looking down upon his descendants and beaming with pride.
“Beautiful sight to behold, aren’t they?”
Prissy turned to watch as she was joined by her mother, an attractive mocha-toned woman in her late fifties who was dressed comfortably in a burgundy cowlneck sweater and gray slacks that flattered her shapely figure.
Prissy grinned teasingly at her.“Uh-oh.Did Mama Wolf send you over here to get me?”
Dinah chuckled. “Actually, she gave me permission to come over here andjoinyou. Wasn’t that generous of her?”
Prissy laughed. “You know Mama Wolf doesn’t play around when it comes to her Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. I always feel privileged just to be allowed in the kitchen with her, since everyone knows she can whip up a feast in her sleep.”
“I know. I always learn something new when I cook with her.” Smiling, Dinah draped an arm affectionately around her daughter’s shoulders as they stared out the windows, watching as Mason chased after Theo, his gleeful shrieks ringing through the air as hemisfiredsnowballs at his retreating uncle.
Prissy smiled at her tall, ruggedly handsome brother, who was presently bundled up from head to toe like the others. “Theo’s looking more and more like Daddy everyday,isn’t he, Mama?”
“He is,” Dinah agreed with a soft, poignant smile. “I was just telling him that the other day. And the girls are looking more and more like you.”
“I know.” Prissy grinned. “Winnie was just complaining to me about that, saying how unfair it is thatshe’sthe one who had to carry the twins, eat for three and endure labor for over twenty-four hours. She said theleastGod could have done was allow her daughters to look like her. I told her not to be too mad at God, because the girls’ resemblance to me was His way of compensating me for never having any daughters of my own.”
Dinah smiled. “That should make her feel better.”
“I think it did.” Prissy chuckled wryly. “After reminding me that Maya and Zora would be spending their spring break with us, she joked that I’d be cured of pining for a daughter after a week of dealing with the girls’ temper tantrums and dramatic outbursts.”
Prissy and Dinah laughed.
As their mirth subsided, they resumed watching the snowball battle being waged outside.
Resting her head against her mother’s shoulder, Prissy sighed contentedly and declared, “I love Thanksgiving.”
“As you should,” Dinah murmured. “You have a lot to be thankful for.”
“I know.” Prissy smiled quietly, reflecting on the conversation they’d had earlier that morning when they went for a walk along the scenic trail near the cabin. Prissy had bared her soul, telling her mother everything that had transpired between her and Stan over the past several months.
At the end of their conversation, as they’d headed back to the cabin, Dinah had stopped and cradled Prissy’s face between her gloved hands as she gently pronounced, “Nothing will ever come between you and Stan, darling, because you belong together. We all remember that the day you met him was supposed to be your last day at the high school because I’d decided to transfer you to the girls’ preparatory academy, which was a better school. But then you crossed paths with Stanton on your way to class, and everything changed. I’ll never forget the way you came home floating on cloud nine, and you told me that you wanted to stay at the high school because you might have just met the man of your dreams.”
Prissy had grinned ruefully at her mother. “I was only sixteen. What did I know?”
Dinah had turned and gestured toward the cabin, where Stan had just stepped out onto the wide porch, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he quietly contemplated the scenicmountain view.
“Apparently,” Dinah said with an intuitive smile, “you knew plenty.”
As a cold gust of wind intruded upon Prissy’s reverie, she glanced around to watch as the menfolk spilled into the cabin—laughing, stamping snow from their boots and removing gloves, knit caps and heavy coats before making a beeline to the fireplace to warmthemselvesby the crackling fire.
