The winter night had descended faster than expected. One moment, it was still warm outside; the next, freezing temperatures took hold. Window panes were laced with frost and a thin layer of snow. The fireplace crackled quietly as owls hooted outside. The cat napped on the rug in front of the fireplace. Even the wooden floors felt cold against bare feet.

Good Lord, James was cradling his baby girl against his chest. Two blankets covered himself and Abigail. She slept peacefully, all bundled up. There wasn't much to do about the situation. The house sat on a large property, not exactly equipped to handle winter. Then again, nobody expected such a harsh winter in New Mexico—not this quickly, anyway. And the central heating barely worked, so that needed replacing too...

God, this could have gone smoother if James had actually listened to your concerns about the heating not working properly.

Not that he minded his current position—he was quite cozy in his armchair. But he understood your concerns now, very much so. Especially with an almost one-year-old who had a tendency to walk just to get into trouble. Like father, like daughter.

The night was getting worse. James hoped the snow wouldn't stick so he could get out tomorrow to grab supplies to fix the central heating... or at least call someone on the landline to come and fix it.

Then came the sound of footsteps. You, of course. Always quiet in those socks but still audible enough not to startle him or Abigail. A tray in your hands. Two bowls of—

"Rice pudding?" James questioned quietly, raising an eyebrow. "Either I've won the lottery or you're going to scold me into the next year."

Because you didn't just make it on a whim. It had to be a special occasion or James had to beg for it. Not to mention, Abigail loved it. So... yeah, James was pretty sure you were going to scold him for something, and he'd get the cold version of the dessert by the time you were done... Great.