Luke was aware of the music first. Someone was singing in a high sweet voice, and he sighed, feeling the warmth and smelling the fragrance of baking bread. The last thing he remembered was trying to stay awake as the cold soaked into his bones. Was this Heaven? He stirred, and a deep ache in his arm snapped him back to reality. His beloved Bible was very clear that there were no tears or pain in Heaven, and he opened his eyes.

He was in a small room lit with candles. A row of dolls in red parkas sat on a shelf over hooks that held an assortment of clothing with patterns in zigzags and snowflakes. On the floor were several pairs of low boots made of fur with felt tops in bright colors. Luke examined his injured arm and found that someone had made a good job of splinting it. He was about to get up when the singing stopped.

A tall blond woman came into the room. She had long thick braids and deep blue eyes, and she wore a swirling blue dress and red boots. "Good! You are awake at last." She had a curious lilting accent and she smiled brightly at her unexpected guest.

Luke smiled back and held up his arm. "I want to thank you for this, Mrs…"

"Kristiinná Hämäläinen." She chuckled as Luke's lips moved soundlessly, trying to encompass the strange sounds. "Please call me Kris. And you are?"

"Lucas McCain." He suddenly looked alarmed. "How long have I been here?"

"Only since this morning. My sons Mihkil and Jorgen found you. They feared you were dead, you were so cold and still." She shook her head disapprovingly. "Trappers! What honest man sets out traps that any can fall into? It is indeed fortunate for you that we decided to get a Christmas tree."

"That's what I was after. I saw the most beautiful tree but I had a fall and…" He held up his bad arm with a rueful expression. "I'm grateful for your care but I have to be going. My son Mark will be very worried about me. I was supposed to be home last night."

"You cannot possibly go yet, Mr McCain." Kris came over to feel Luke's forehead. "You were almost frozen when my sons brought you in and you are feverish now." He made to protest and she shook her head. "It is no use arguing. Tell me where your home is and my sons will go and tell your family what has happened."

"I have no family but my boy." Luke was struck with a chill and his teeth chattered.

"There, you see?" Kris pulled the blanket closer around him. "It takes time to get warm again. Rest now, and I will bring you something to eat."

She left the room, returning with a bowl of soup and two little girls with long braids like their mother. "These are my twins, Maren and Karen. They wish to help care for you."

"Well, that's very nice of them." Luke sat up in the bed, pushing the pillows behind his back. "If your sons could come in, I'll tell them where to find my place."

Kris smiled. "They have gone already. Mihkil said the track of your sledge would be easy to follow." She put the bowl of soup on the table next to the bed. "Now eat. Your boy should be here soon."

Luke's eyes stung. The combination of concern and bossiness reminded him strongly of Margaret and he reached for the spoon to hide his emotion. One of the little girls hurried forward to hold the bowl for him. "Thank you." He tasted the soup. "That's very good."

Kris nodded approvingly and left the room, singing as she went. Luke ate half the soup, waited patiently while the girls changed places so they both could have a turn holding the bowl, then finished it. "Your mother is a very good cook."

"She is the best," said one of the girls.

"I think Silva is almost as good, Maren," said Karen, the other girl.

Maren reflected. "It is true Silva makes very good squeaky cheese."

"Squeaky cheese?" asked Luke.

"When the cheese is grilled just right, it squeaks when you eat it." Maren sighed. "No one can make the cheese squeak like our big sister Silva."

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?"
Karen held up seven fingers. "There is Silva. She is the oldest of us all. Then there are our brothers, Mihkil and Jorgen and Klemma and Simit. Finally there is us. Our father says a big family is a happy family."

Luke's face clouded, remembering how he and Margaret had hoped for a lot of children. "I have one boy. His name is Mark."

Maren patted his good hand. "He must be a very good boy."

"I think so." The big man smiled a little. "How do you know?"

"Because you love him so much. My mother has no brothers or sisters and she says that one can be just as good as many if there is love."

"Your mother is a very wise woman."

Kris hurried in. "Mr McCain, my sons have returned. They bring your boy!"

Mark was right behind her. "Pa!" Luke held out his good arm and the boy ran forward, hugging his father tightly as Kris hurried her daughters from the room.