SNOWBOUND HEARTS: Chapter Five

With Anna cradled in his arms, Dwight sank down onto the couch, all too aware of the profound sorrow that was shaking her body.

Snowbound Hearts is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles.

Copyright © 2024 by Mina Beckett

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-7375127-6-9

Print ISBN: 978-1-7375127-7-6

Published by: CurtissLynn Publishing

Cover design: Shiver Shot Design

All rights reserved.

BEHIND THE WORDS

This chapter cranks up the emotional and psychological intensity, tightening the screws on both Dwight’s unraveling turmoil and Anna’s descent into the storm of grief, uncertainty, and danger.

rewrite this to say, we start with the reoccurring theme of Dwight—haunted by the past, by his wife Tamara’s absence, by the weight of the memories that fill his home. His grief is almost a living thing, something he carries with him in every quiet morning and every empty space. He’s accepted the sleepless nights, the dreams that leave him breathless and calling her name. But waking up to an empty bed? That’s a pain that never dulls.

I wanted readers to feel that hollowness with him, to understand that the house isn’t just where he lives—it’s a place filled with ghosts. And then, suddenly, there’s Anna. A living, breathing woman sitting at Tamara’s table, eating food made by Tamara’s mother. The guilt is immediate, sharp-edged, and overwhelming.

Then there’s the moment with Hogue—a turning point, not just for the story, but for Dwight. It’s one thing to suspect that Anna is tangled up in something dangerous, but it’s another thing entirely to have a dying man grip your shirt and force a promise from you. Protect her. Those are the last words Hogue utters, and just like that, Dwight is drawn even further into something he never wanted to be a part of.

What I love about this chapter is how layered it is. There’s grief, guilt, tension—but there’s also something shifting beneath the surface. Dwight’s irritation at Anna, his resistance to change, even his reluctance to be pulled into whatever mess she’s running from… it’s all tangled up with something he doesn’t want to name yet. And that’s attraction.

From Anna’s perspective, this is the moment where she really starts to see Dwight for the man he is—protective, honorable, deeply wounded. And while grief might be what connects them at first, there’s something else, something neither of them are ready to admit just yet.

And then there’s Lael. God, I love Lael. She’s the kind of character who keeps everyone grounded, including the reader. She’s strong, no-nonsense, and she refuses to let Dwight wallow in his grief. She pushes him, not cruelly, but with the kind of love that only comes from someone who sees him. She’s a mother figure, but more than that—she’s a force of nature. And the best part? We’re only just beginning to see what makes her such a dynamic character.

Chapter Five is the bridge between what was and what will be. It’s grief, love, tension, and the slow unraveling of a mystery that’s only getting deeper. And as much as Dwight hates it, something is happening—he’s starting to care.

More to come in Chapter Six! 💕

CHAPTER FIVE

Dwight had come to terms with the sleepless nights, the bad dreams that left him gasping in the darkness, calling out Tamara's name. But what he couldn't get used to was the hollowness that awaited him each morning. The gut punch of waking up to an empty bed, the crushing truth that Tamara was gone.

These days, he dressed in solitude within the confines of their once-shared bedroom. The room, alive with their laughter and whispers of love, now echoed with the deafening silence of her absence. The vacant spot next to him in bed and the untouched pillow, served a constant reminder of the void she’d left behind.

He remembered the morning rush, the good-natured battle for the bathroom sink, the playful dodges and turns in front of the mirror. Those once annoying morning routines had become so precious to him now and were moments he'd give anything to relive.

As he stood before the mirror, combing his hair, he could almost see her next to him. Those were the times when a simple brush of the arm, a quick catch of the eye, could turn into something more. Something intimate and special, stolen moments of love in the quiet before dawn.

His reflection stared back at him, a single figure in the mirror. An emptiness beside him where Tamara once stood, her laughter and smiles just a phantom now. He longed for her, for those days, for the love that once filled this room. Each morning was a reminder of what had been, amplifying the silence that now ruled.

But this morning was different. He woke up to a new reality, one where another woman - Anna - was in his house. She was sitting comfortably at Tamara's table, eating food made by Tamara's mom. The whole thing felt wrong, like he was looking at a picture that was somehow off. Like he’d defiled his late wife’s memory’.