Montana, Winter, 1933
At fourteen Millie Chase is orphaned, and living with her stepfather in a town that is a far cry from the life in Chicago sheâd once known. She sets out to find her motherâs friend, Ginny Baker, in nearby Yellowstone National Park. But when itâs Ginnyâs husband, Nate, she encounters, Millie has doubts. Still Nate seems the lesser of two bad options.
Nate Baker has built his life around his love for Ginny, his work as a winterkeeper in the Park, and minding his own business. But when he discovers Millie hiding out in the park, Nate sees no choice but to get involved. Of course, doing so could cost him his job in a time when jobs for fifty-year-old men are impossible to find.
Ginny gave up the upscale Chicago life sheâd known for life in the wilderness. But when her brother-in-law reveals she and her sister have lost their inheritance, Ginny sees no choice but to return to Chicago to salvage what she can. The fact that she is forty-four years old and has just realized sheâs pregnant throws more chaos into her life â and Nateâs.
Then Nate calls with news of finding Millie...
Montana, Winter, 1933
At fourteen Millie Chase is orphaned, and living with her stepfather in a town that is a far cry from the life in Chicago sheâd once known. She sets out to find her motherâs friend, Ginny Baker, in nearby Yellowstone National Park. But when itâs Ginnyâs husband, Nate, she encounters, Millie has doubts. Still Nate seems the lesser of two bad options.
Nate Baker has built his life around his love for Ginny, his work as a winterkeeper in the Park, and minding his own business. But when he discovers Millie hiding out in the park, Nate sees no choice but to get involved. Of course, doing so could cost him his job in a time when jobs for fifty-year-old men are impossible to find.
Ginny gave up the upscale Chicago life sheâd known for life in the wilderness. But when her brother-in-law reveals she and her sister have lost their inheritance, Ginny sees no choice but to return to Chicago to salvage what she can. The fact that she is forty-four years old and has just realized sheâs pregnant throws more chaos into her life â and Nateâs.
Then Nate calls with news of finding Millie...
Gardiner, Montana--March 1933
At her motherâs funeral, fourteen-year-old Millie Chase stood shivering in the snow-covered graveyard and watched as workmen lowered the casket into the hole theyâd managed to carve out of the frozen earth. A furry frost had already formed on the dirt walls. The minister said some words about dust to dust, but Momma wasnât dust.
She was a woman who strangers turned around to stare wherever she went. Looking at her made other people smile, and she always smiled back. She might even stop and talk to the personâask what kind of work they did or give them some compliment about how the outfit they were wearing was bringing out the color of their eyes. People always seemed to feel better after theyâd been with Millieâs mother--even for just a couple of minutes.
âMillie, just because our family has been blessed to enjoy the finer things in life,â Momma used to say, âthat doesnât mean any person you meet is any less valuable.
Never forget that.â
At the church service, Millie had seen her laid out on the white satin lining of the casket. She wore a lavender dress better suited for summer and somebody had put too much lipstick on her. Millie had resisted the urge to use the handkerchief she carried to blot it away. Nobody had asked for her opinion on what her mother might want to wear, but Millie knew she never would have chosen that dress.
Now as the minister took a step closer to the open grave and bowed his head, an icy wind whipped strands of straight brown hair against her cheeks, which had turned raw with the cold. Others followed his lead, but Millie just stared at that hole in the ground and the polished wood box with gilded handles that held the mother she would never see again.
Her father had been killed in battle during the war right before she was born. âThe Great War,â sheâd heard it called, although she never understood what could possibly be great about any war. He was buried somewhere in Europe. Momma had always promised that one day the two of them would travel there and say a proper goodbye.
But then three years earlierâwhen Millie was eleven--Momma had married Roger Fitzgerald and pretty much seemed to forget about traveling to say goodbye to Millieâs father. At first, she was okay, figuring Momma seemed so happy. Of course, that didnât last. She glanced up at Roger as he made a show of dabbing his eyes and then blowing his nose with a clean white handkerchief. She was not fooled, although it sure looked like others were. These last months while Momma got sicker and sicker, Roger had barely stopped by her room once a day. Now a woman Millie had seen at parties and suppers given by her mother and Roger touched his shoulder and then looped her hand through the crook of his elbow like she was staking her claim or something. Millie couldnât resist smirking and hiding a smile when Roger pulled free of the womanâs grasp before stepping forward and dropping three red roses on Mommaâs casket.
He nodded to Millie, indicating she should do the same, then stood next to her while the other mourners tossed in small sprigs of juniper and sage. How come Roger didnât know Momma never liked red roses, she wondered. Never really cared for roses at all. But heâd ordered them special.
The cemetery sat on a hill that overlooked the town. Beyond the small cluster of buildings that were the shops and other businesses of Gardiner, Millie could see the
Roosevelt arch that marked the entrance to Yellowstone National Park. She could see the railroad station as well. She wondered if Roger would send her back to Chicago, where she and Momma had lived before they met him. But she had no relatives there any moreâand as far as she knew, neither did he, so probably not.
They stayed until the cemetery workers started to fill the hole, the dirt pelting Mommaâs casket like last nightâs icy snowstorm had tapped at Millieâs bedroom window. Afterwards, she had little choice but to go back to Rogerâs house. As far as she was concerned, he wasnât even her stepfatherâjust a man Momma had married, so what was she supposed to do now?
As they walked away from the grave, Roger placed his large hand on her back and steered her toward the shiny black car that reminded her of pictures of tanks sheâd seen. Gus, his chauffeur, saw them coming and opened the rear door. After they entered, he closed it with a firm click. Nobody else in Gardiner had a chauffeur, but apparently Roger felt he needed somebody to drive him around because he was this bigshot businessman.
Millie wasnât sure what he did exactly, just that Momma had said he was going to get a government contract and make a lot of money. Thatâs why theyâd moved to Gardiner. He had an office where he went every day, and Momma had told Millie he bought businesses that were struggling, brought them back to life and then sold them for a lot of money. Back in Chicago after they were first married, Momma had been real proud of Roger, making him out to be some kind of hero. But Millie realized she hadnât heard her talk much about that since theyâd moved to Montana.
As Gus drove away, Millie twisted around and craned her neck to see the grave and the few mourners still gathered there, talking to each other like they would if they were in a shop downtown. Nobody was watching as the cemetery workers continued shoveling dirt to fill the grave.
Couldnât anybody even wait to see her fully buried?
âSit still,â Roger snapped. He lit a cigar and blew out a stream of foul smoke before picking up the folded afternoon edition of the newspaper left for him on the seat. Millie scooted as close as possible to the door, making herself small so he might forget she was even there. It didnât take long to make the trip from the cemetery to the three-story house on the hill, the largest house in Gardiner. It was the kind of house Millie had seen pictured in books about fairy talesâthe house where the evil witch residedâthe house to avoid passing by crossing to the other side of the street. It was late in the afternoon and every window glowed with light, the way Roger liked it. Heâd bought the place right after moving the family to Gardiner from Chicago. Millie remembered asking Momma how come just about everything was changing. How come Rogerâs business was all of a sudden in Montana instead of in Chicago? Had he run out of failing businesses to buy back there? It sure seemed to her like, with all the closed and boarded up shops all over the city, there were still places that could use some help.
But they moved to Gardiner, and Millie remembered him telling Momma how he hated coming home to a dark house. Sheâd gotten the message and always made sure every lamp in every room on every floor was on as the sun set.
Of course, now Momma wasnât there, so it must have been the housekeeper, Clara, who had made sure the lamps were all lit. The people who had been at Mommaâs funeral were supposed to come back to the house after. Millie had seen Clara and a couple of other women hired to help her preparing a lot of food, setting up chairs and polishing glasses and silver serving dishes before she and Roger left for the church. Clara didnât even get to come to the service to say a proper goodbye.
âWhatâs that?â Roger rattled his newspaper and leaned toward Millie as he stared out the window on her side. He spoke in that voice he used when he was about to explode. It had fooled Millie and Momma early onâthat voice. It wasnât loud or even mad. No, it sounded like he was just asking. But now Millie knew, so she sat as still as possible. She followed his gaze and saw a single candle burning in the upstairs tower window that had been Mommaâs room. No other light in that roomâjust a flickering flame.
Gus pulled the car to the curb and got out. He glanced up at the window before coming around to open the door for Roger and followed him up the walk, leaving the car door open. âI guess Clara thought maybeâŚâ
âClara is fired,â Roger said. âNow get somebody up there to get rid of that damned candle and turn on a proper light.â
They both seemed to have forgotten all about Millie, so she stayed where she was, trying to figure out her next move. She hadnât lived in Gardiner long enough to make many friends, and once Momma started getting sick, she always rushed home from school to see if she was any better and keep her company. For her whole life up to now, it was just Momma and herâeven after Roger came along, and truth be told, Millie liked that fine. She just wished they could go back to how things used to be.
Before Momma married Roger, they had lived in Chicago where they had a nice house, plenty of money, and lots of friends. Mommaâs parents owned a bunch of hotels and when they died, the hotels were sold, and Millie heard Mommaâs friend and lawyer tell Momma that sheâd never have to worry about money ever again. But then right around the time she met Roger, stuff started to happen. Millie didnât really understand it but knew there was something to do with banks and the stock markets and such. She also knew that Momma was worried. Then one night while they were still in Chicago, Momma went to a party. Roger was there. Millie sometimes thought theirs was what the movie magazines called a whirlwind romance because not six weeks later, Momma and Roger were married.
At first Roger moved into the house with them. Then one day, Momma told Millie the house was going to be sold and they would be moving to their ânew lifeâ in Montana. She seemed happier than sheâd been in some time, so Millie was okay with itâat first. She wasnât crazy about Roger, but then he didnât seem all that fond of her either. Momma assured them both that in time they would be âhead over heelsâ for each other.
Well, that sure never happened.
Things went along all right for a while, but then just a couple of months after they moved, Momma and Roger started arguing--shouting at each other. Best Millie could figure out, Roger had taken some of the money left by her grandparents and lost it.
âThatâs not your money,â she heard Momma tell him one night. She had taken to sitting at the top of the curved stairway that wound itself up from the fancy first floor to the second, where their bedrooms were, and on to the third, where her room was.
âWeâre married, in case youâve forgotten,â she heard Roger respond.
âThat money belongs to Millie,â Momma shouted. Millie had never heard her so upset. âItâs for her educationâher future. Weâve already lost so much, Roger, and who knows how long this recession will last? You had no rightâŚâ
And then Millie heard something that sounded like a crack, followed by a silence so scary, she was all the way down to the second-floor landing when she saw her mother leave the front room, holding her cheek. She didnât make it three steps before Roger grabbed her arm, twisted it hard behind her back and pulled her close, so his face was right next to hers. âDonât ever walk out on me,â he said.
That was the first time Millie had heard that voice.
And although it was not the last time she saw bruises on Mommaâs arm or neck, she never saw or heard Momma stand up to Roger again. Of course, it was just a few months after that night that she started to get sick. And once she did, at least Roger didnât hurt her any more.
Now Millie watched from the back seat of the car as Roger and Gus entered the house, leaving the front door wide open in spite of the cold. She heard Roger giving out orders and saw people rushing around. A few seconds later, the candle went dark and lights came on in Mommaâs room.
With Momma gone, along with both sets of grandparents and her Dad, it would be just her and Roger and the servants. But heâd fired Clara and she was the one Momma had told Millie she could lean on. She was just about to get out of the car and go around to the back door to go inside so she could avoid Roger when she saw Clara hurry down the driveway, clutching her purse and a paper shopping bag.
Millie scrambled from the car and chased after her, the patent leather shoes Roger had insisted Clara buy as part of her outfit for the funeral slipping and sliding on the skim of ice that had formed on the recently shoveled sidewalk. âClara!â
Clara looked back at Millie, then up at the house and hurried on. âWait!â Millie tried to catch up, but Clara waved her off and quickened her step. Her boots gave her traction and she was able to put distance between them before Millie could catch up to her.
Millie stood there watching the housekeeper hurry away. She had no idea where Clara lived.
âMillie, he wants you inside.â She hadnât heard Gus come after her, but now he put his arm around her shoulders and guided her back toward the house. âPeople will be coming soon,â he added, and the way he said it, Millie thought he meant it to make her feel better. It didnât.
An hour later, the house was full of Rogerâs friends-
-people Millie didnât really know. Since theyâd moved to Montana, Momma had lost touch with pretty much everybody they used to know back in Chicago. They never came to visit, and Millie and her mother had only gone back once, the Christmas just after they had moved away.
Now with Mommaâs dying a few days ago, everything was happening so fast Millie wasnât even sure if anybody had told her Chicago friends.
Once inside, she stood with Roger while a line of strangers touched her face or stroked her hair and told her how beautiful Momma wasâas if she didnât know that. After a while, nobody was paying her any mind, so she climbed the stairs. The door to Mommaâs room was halfopen, and she went in, closing it behind her. The first thing she did was turn off the overhead light, leaving only the small bedside lamp lit. Momma hated that ceiling lightâ said it hurt her eyes. She sat down at the dressing table and lined up the bottles of perfume, lotions and rouge pots. In the mirror, she saw the closet door ajar, Mommaâs clothes hanging in perfect alignmentâthe way Roger liked. Roger had his own room down the hall, but Millie knew he came to Mommaâs room several nights a week before she got sick to have what Clara had told her were ârelations.â
Clara had blushed beet red and drawn her lips into a tight line as if she had just eaten a sour pickle, before adding, âAnd that, young lady is all you need to know.â
Millie walked to the closet and sat on the floor, scooting back until she was surrounded by the scent of Momma that clung to her clothes. She unbuckled the patent leather shoes and kicked them off, then pulled Mommaâs favorite fur coat from its satin hanger and made a sort of nest for herself. Downstairs, she could hear her stepfather laughing, and someone was playing Mommaâs grand pianoâthe only thing Roger had agreed to let her bring from the house in Chicago. Whoever was playing it wasnât nearly as good as Momma was.
Being a young girl in the winter of 1933 with a recently deceased mother and an abusive step-father in a town you barely know could seem like a hopeless situation. However, Milly is not a girl without some intelligence and imagination. It is not long before she makes an escape, with a plan to find her motherâs estranged friend Ginny. Ginny lives with her husband Nate, the winterkeeper at Mammoth in Yellowstone National Park. Unfortunately, Ginny has gone to Chicago to help her newly widowed sister.
The novel develops a wonderful wintery setting of Yellowstone and the nearby town of Gardiner Montana. Descriptions are vivid and familiar to those who may have visited the park.
There was a different kind of peace that came with the start of a new winter day in Yellowstone â a kind of promise, it seemed to him. The way the light and shadows played over the snow-covered landscape, the silence interrupted only by the song of a bird...
It also highlights the potential dangers of winter with severe low temperatures, extremely deep snow, and potential snowstorms. It is a challenging environment for Milly who walks up the snowy hill from Gardiner to Mammoth and finds no one in the area in early evening with temperatures dropping quickly.
Throughout the book, the first-person viewpoint changes from Milly, to Nate, to Ginny. We see into the thoughts and emotions of the characters as they struggle with their situation. Milly must convince Nate to not return her to the abusive step-father. Nate likes his quiet life, and he is reluctant to change or get involved with other peopleâs problems. Ginny feels torn between returning home to the husband she loves or helping her pampered sister who must deal with the financial ruins of her life during the Depression.
As the story evolves, we wonder if there is any way to resolve the differing wants and needs, and to provide a satisfying ending. The path to happiness is not clear.
As a young adult book, this would be very entertaining for the intended audience. It may provide an eye-opening understanding of adult issues that young people might face as they get older; âhow do my actions impact those around meâ. It is also set in a historical time period that few books illuminate for younger generations. I think it would also be appreciated by many adults who enjoy books with great character development in an interesting setting.