SNOWBOUND HEARTS: Chapter One

His heart felt just as frozen, numb and heavy in his chest. It was still fragile, as though one wrong move could make it fracture.

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

When I sat down to write the excerpt of Snowbound Hearts, it was meant to be a passage from a script actor Morgan Prescott was reading. Kara, the woman he was falling for in Hollywood Cowboy, had convinced him to audition for the movie. In crafting Chapter One, I was stepping into the world Morgan was discovering—a story within a story. By then, I was so immersed in Snowbound Hearts that I knew this chapter had to capture the heart of Dwight’s journey. It needed to set the tone for a story rooted in love, loss, and the quiet, powerful act of healing.

Though Dwight’s wife, Tamara, is no longer alive, her presence lingers in every corner of his life. That felt important to me. When we lose someone we love deeply, their absence doesn’t silence the connection we shared. Instead, we often find ourselves continuing the conversations we once had—whether aloud or in the stillness of our thoughts. That’s where Dwight’s heart remains, bound to the love he shared with Tamara. Her unexpected passing didn’t diminish his devotion; it lives on in the quiet moments he holds close, honoring her memory in the way only true love can.

Including Tamara as a thread in the story, even in her absence, felt like the truest way to honor Dwight’s character and the magnitude of his grief. It shows how much he loved her and how much he still honors her, even while wrestling with the challenge of moving forward. I wanted readers to feel the weight of his emotions—the tears, the heartbreak, and the overwhelming ache that comes with losing a piece of your soul.

At the same time, this connection to Tamara is what ultimately helps Dwight find his way back to love. Through her memory, she gives him permission to let go, to trust his heart again, and to open himself to a future he didn’t think was possible. This chapter is just the beginning of that emotional journey, and my hope is that it resonates with anyone who’s ever loved and lost someone so profoundly.

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CHAPTER ONE

There were no certainties in life other than death. No promises constructed by a grand designer.

No scheme.

No plan.

There was only the here and now. That’s what Tamara had always said.

Sweet, sweet Tamara.

The plane of existence where Dwight Murtagh, his wife Tamara, and his son, Liam, had once lived in harmony was now a distant memory.

Lost to the past.

An indistinct dimension of time in which one’s life persisted only in the vague and fading recollections of bittersweet moments, forever etched into the vastness of the ages.

The past held no structure, no form. No life. It was simply a torturous reminder of all he’d lost to death’s unyielding grip. It floated in and out of Dwight’s mind in the murky twilight of sleep, enveloping his heart with its icy tendrils and squeezing sometimes so hard he thought he might die.

But he hadn’t. Not yet.

Like a carefully choreographed performance on a staged set, life, with all its senses and emotions, continued to unfold. Second by second, time would shift from that dreadful here and now, to gone.

A hard blast of Arctic wind barreled into Dwight’s midsection, causing him to hunch over and seek refuge deeper within his sheep-skin coat. He trembled slightly, pulling firmly on the reins of his buckskin steed, Bane, steering him, along with the pack mule, Moose, back towards the safety of home. His intended three-day trip to the supply cabin at the cattle station had been abruptly shortened by the rapidly darkening skies and the imminent storm.

Over the past hour, the whimsical snow flurries of the afternoon were steadily increasing. Soon they’d transform into a tempest of snow and eventually, ice. The powerful storm front that national weather channels and local meteorologists had been warning the inhabitants of Copper Creek about had launched its relentless crawl across the expanse of the Rocky Mountains and now descended upon Dwight’s tiny corner of the world. The Sweet Surrender Ranch.

The name was a bitter irony, for surrender was a luxury Dwight could no longer afford. He’d had to forge ahead, not just for himself, but for Liam. Despite the boy’s tender age of six, they’d learned to navigate the uncertain landscape of life, seeking solace in each other’s company as they confronted the emptiness left behind by Tamara’s passing.

It’s been two years, Dwight, her gentle, guiding voice reminded him.

“Two long years, honey.”

Let me go.

Grief constricted his chest with such force that he thought his heart might cease to pump. He couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. “I can’t,” he whispered.

The bitter wind snatched his tears and transformed them to ice. They clung there beneath his eyes, frozen, brittle crystals glinting in the faint light of the setting sun. His heart felt just as frozen, numb and heavy in his chest.

It was still fragile, as though one wrong move could make it fracture. He guarded himself against the memories that now felt sharp as shattered glass. Even a small reminder of happier times could pierce through his defenses and break what remained of his spirit into countless shards of pain. His tears, though seldom and always released in private, were a physical reminder of the anguish now solidified within him.