Chapter 5 - Snowfall Over the Montana Pines
The twin-engine puddle jumper descended through a thick blanket of silver clouds over the Gallatin Valley on Wednesday afternoon.
Outside the cabin window, the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Montana Rockies rose like ancient stone guardians above vast forests of frosted pines.
Maisie had slept against my chest in her baby wrap for nearly the entire flight, soothed by the constant drone of the airplane engines.
When we stepped out of the Bozeman airport, a large black SUV was waiting to take us deep into the mountains toward the private estate.
The lodge was nestled against the edge of a frozen alpine lake, built from massive hand-hewn cedar logs and towering sheets of glass.
Plumes of fragrant woodsmoke curled from two massive stone chimneys into the crisp, sub-zero afternoon air.
The heavy wooden front door swung open before we had even climbed the wide stone steps, spilling warm golden light onto the snow.
Lauren stepped out onto the porch wrapped in a thick cream cardigan, a wide, radiant smile lighting up her face the moment she saw us.
"You made it!" Lauren exclaimed, descending the steps to wrap Vanessa and then me into a genuine, bone-deep hug.
Before I could apologize for the mountain of baby gear stacked behind us, Lauren leaned down to look into the car seat.
"Oh, look at this precious angel," Lauren whispered, her eyes softening as she reached out a warm finger for Maisie to grasp.
"She has your eyes, Jenna, she is absolutely gorgeous," Lauren said, looking up at me without a trace of hesitation or judgment.
"Can I carry her inside while you get your boots off?" she asked, her voice completely free of performative politeness.
I felt the knot of anxiety that had lived in my shoulders for three months suddenly loosen and dissolve.
There was no heavy sigh, no sideways glance at the diaper bag, and no passive-aggressive remarks about crying ruining the ambiance.
Inside, the lodge smelled of roasted pine needles, cinnamon, rich butter, and cedar wood glowing in the massive stone fireplace.
Lauren’s husband Marcus was playing wooden blocks on the sheepskin rug with their four-year-old son Cameron, who looked up with a bright wave.
Lauren’s business partner Simone and her partner Beth were sitting at the expansive quartz island, sipping hot spiced cider.
May you like
"Jenna, put your purse down and give me that baby," Simone laughed, standing up to welcome us. "Marcus and Beth have baby fever anyway."
For the first time since my daughter had drawn her first breath, I walked into a room where her presence was celebrated as a gift rather than endured as a burden.
