A Wild Winter

The Georgian winter ball was turning back the clock, but had Donna moved on too far from her childhood love?

- LISA ALLEN

The moon cast a spotlight over the grand manor house. Crunching gazed up at the place she had once called home as memories snowballed towards her.

Lights twinkled in the windows, berries and leaves rambled around a set of tall oak doors, and a narrow stream glistened down towards the adjoining wood.

"Hey, no trespassing!"

Donna's head spun towards the thicket of sugar sprinkled pines and firs. Pacing towards her, with his trademark lumber jacket, was old school friend, Jack.

A silky black and white collie dog circled his ankles before bounding towards Donna.

"Jack?" Donna ran towards him, arms outstretched, her boots sinking deeper into snow. It must be nearly fifteen years since they'd last seen each other.

Jack wrapped Donna in a bear hug, his familiar scent as comforting as marshmallows toasting over a camp fire.

As they split apart, Donna realised it was the first time they'd ever embraced.

Donna's cheeks spotted pink as her gaze took in his larger frame, the stubble on his firmer jawline, the smiling splinters of facial lines giving away a lifetime spent outdoors.

Jack was a man now. Not the gangly teenager with whom she had spent her youth in these woods; climbing trees, learning forest crafts, drinking tea brewed over a tiny campfire beneath the stars.

"Lady Frances wasn't sure you'd make it back for the Winter Ball." Jack's gaze rested on Donna's and she recognised the twinkle in his eyes. Despite the past, he was glad she was here.

Donna smiled.

"You'll be attending too, I hope?"

"Do they let the likes of me in?"

Jack had grown up in a small cottage on the other side of the woods; his parents had looked after the land. and smallholding for Donna's family for decades.

After his parents retired it seemed a natural move for Jack to take over the reins as estate manager looking after the grand manor house grounds.