The sun was warm and pleasant, after the horror of the snow-blanketed Christmas world, it was completely welcome, as well. She'd spent most of her time there crammed into her tiny cottage, refusing to move from the bed where the sheets and blankets were piled and a fire was roaring.
She felt the sundress lightly caressing her skin, and the pressure of an arm around her middle. Paying more attention now, she could sense the added warmth of a body curled up behind her, being the big spoon.
Her eyes still closed, Betsy smiled. His voice was familiar and sweet. She didn't want to open her lids just yet, afraid that it would all be a dream and she'd still be stuck in frozen hell. But she could smell flowers and hear birds, and her dreams were not usually so vivid.
"Yes, Sam?" She decided talking was safer than eye-opening.