Stranded For The Holidays

A few years younger than Jonas, Zach was a skinny beanpole of a fellow. With a bottomless stomach and NASCAR aspirations.

“Once you’ve filled your belly, cousin, there’s this broken-down vehicle on our—”

“I heard about your stranded snow princess.” Zach snickered.

Jonas could probably thank his mother for that. After dinner, he’d seen her on the phone.

He grimaced. “Her name is AnnaBeth Cummings. Did Aunt IdaLee tell you what happened?”

“Nope. When Miss GeorgeAnne opened the hardware store this morning, she told me. She’s doing a booming business selling snow shovels and sleds. Apparently, Miss GeorgeAnne, Aunt IdaLee and Miss ErmaJean had a conference call last night.”

Flashing back to how ErmaJean the elf had overheard Hunter’s Santa wish, he bit back a groan. “Don’t tell me those old women are already conspiring.”

“You definitely have a bull’s-eye painted on your back, cuz.”

“She’s not my snow bride,” he growled.

“Better you than me, dude. You don’t know how happy I am to not be you.” Zach gave a less-than-sympathetic laugh. “But no can do on towing the car today. The mountain road won’t be clear ’til tomorrow. Until then, for better or for worse, the snow bride is all yours.” He chortled. “Did you see what I did there? Better or worse?”

Jonas clenched his teeth so tight his jaw ached. “We’ll see how hard you’re laughing when I tell Aunt IdaLee it was you playing with matches that caught the Christmas tree on fire that year.”

“I was six!” Zach huffed. “Don’t go getting your spurs in a twist. Whatcha so afraid of? You got no call to be so—”

Jonas ended the call and scrubbed his face. Was he scared of the flatlander? The thought of her emerald-green eyes was like a punch to his gut.

Yep, ’fraid so. Something about AnnaBeth completely addled him. Call him a coward, but a little fear was healthy, right?

He headed toward the stalls. The sooner he could get AnnaBeth on her merry way, the better off he’d be. Until then?

If he had to stay outside all day, he’d do his best to avoid her. Out of sight, out of mind.

Famous last words?

It was the light filtering through the gingham curtain that awakened AnnaBeth. Curled beneath the gorgeous blue-and-white quilt, she felt as cozy as a cat. And as reluctant to move.

A kaleidoscope of yesterday’s events bombarded her memory. Scott and MaryDru. Her frantic flight, the snowstorm and the subsequent rescue by Jonas.

Grabbing her recharged phone off the nightstand, she discovered multiple texts awaiting her. Frantic messages from MaryDru, Scott and at least a dozen from Victoria.

A message from MaryDru said, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to fall in love with Scott. Please don’t hate me. Where are you, A.B.?

She sucked in a breath. As if she could ever hate her beloved baby sister. And she knew MaryDru would’ve never set out to hurt her. Nor Scott, either.

AnnaBeth scrolled farther down the feed. Another one from Mary Dru. Tell me you’re okay. I’m so worried, A.B. Please call. Scott and I will never see one another again.

Not at all what AnnaBeth wanted. MaryDru’s happiness was why she’d run away in the first place.

She opened Scott’s message.

Contrite, sincere Scott. Taking the blame for waiting so long to be honest with himself and her. Begging for her forgiveness. Promising to never see MaryDru again if AnnaBeth would just come home.

Sinking onto the pillow, she closed her eyes. Scott had been a fixture in their lives. The son her father always wanted. Like a brother to her. She now suspected that had been the problem all along.

Yet when he’d looked at MaryDru at the church...

Perhaps no one would ever look at AnnaBeth that way, but she wouldn’t stand by and allow MaryDru to miss her chance at true love.

Rolling onto her stomach, AnnaBeth texted Scott. Nothing to forgive. I want you both to be happy. Don’t give up on MaryDru. Tell her I’m safe and well.

She hit Send. There. That would hopefully get them talking to each other again.

The chain of messages from Victoria mocked her. But without a fortifying cup of coffee, no way she was up to facing those. She turned off the phone.

With one glance at the bedside clock, she threw off the covers. After donning jeans and one of her favorite sweaters, she padded downstairs in her stockinged feet, eager to lend a hand, but she found Deirdre almost finished with breakfast preparations.

“Deirdre, I’m so sorry. I meant to help with breakfast, but I overslept.”

Jonas’s mother stirred the pot on the stove. “After yesterday, I’m sure you were completely wiped out.” After setting the ladle on a ceramic spoon rest, she replaced the lid on the pot. “And not only physically.”

AnnaBeth wrung her hands. “But I wanted to do something to repay you for your generosity.”

Deirdre’s gaze scanned her face. Her eyes were kind. “No need to repay us. It’s our pleasure to have you here for as long as you need us.”

AnnaBeth wasn’t so sure. Despite Jonas’s words last night, she seemed to get on his last nerve. Maybe if she could manage to stay out of his way as much as possible for the duration...

“I’m not so sure your son would agree with your open-ended hospitality, Deirdre.”

“My son doesn’t mean to come off so harsh.” She glanced out the window that overlooked the barnyard. “As a child, Jonas was always my quiet little guy, but after what happened with Hunter’s mother, he’s become so withdrawn.”

What had happened with Jonas’s wife? She wouldn’t dream of prying. Especially not with her own life in such disarray.

“It’s not healthy for him or Hunter.” Deirdre’s chin trembled. “I’m afraid Jonas has lost the ability to trust, to hope. He tries to hide it, but underneath the gruffness, he’s unhappy.”

AnnaBeth’s heart contracted. “I’m sorry.”

His mother swiped her finger under her eye. “I don’t mean to unload on you like this, but you’re very easy to talk to.”

AnnaBeth nodded. “I get that a lot. I suppose I have the kind of face that invites confidences. And I promise I’d never breathe a word of what you’ve told me to anyone else.”

“I sensed that about you immediately.” She cupped AnnaBeth’s cheek. “I think your ability to empathize is a rare gift. Your family must be so proud of you.”

AnnaBeth’s eyes moistened. “My family is complicated. And what happened yesterday will only make things worse.” She blinked away the tears.

Deirdre squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, honey, for what you went through yesterday. It must have been a painful blow losing your fiancé.”

“It’s not that.” AnnaBeth fingered her earring. “You see, I never loved Scott.”

Deirdre threw her a startled look. “You knew you didn’t love him?”

She took a quick breath. “Jonas and Hunter are blessed to have you. You’re also very easy to talk to.”

If only her real mother hadn’t died. If only Victoria had been like Deirdre Fielding, how different would her life had been?

Deirdre took off the lid and stirred the oatmeal on the stovetop. “Church has been canceled due to the snow. We’ll have our own service here at the lodge.” She stopped stirring. “But don’t feel obligated to participate if that’s not something you’re interested in.”

“I’d love to celebrate the Lord’s Day with your family, Miss Deirdre.”

Yet thinking about the uptown congregation which she’d fled from so ingloriously, she winced. Her father must have been livid at having to send home the wedding guests. Not to mention Victoria’s undoubted complete mortification.

AnnaBeth desperately needed a distraction. “How about I set the table?”

“Thank you, honey. That would be a help.” She opened a cabinet door and removed a set of porcelain bowls. “You know where to find the utensils.”

“Breakfast for four?” Pulling out a drawer, AnnaBeth tried for a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Where is everyone?”

“Jonas is in the barn. And Hunter is getting in his roping practice on the terrace.”

She stopped counting spoons. “Roping?”

Deirdre ladled the steaming oatmeal into a bowl. “At last year’s championship, he won second place in his age division. He’s determined to win first place in March.”

She nudged the drawer shut with her hip. “There’s a roping championship for four-year-olds?”

Deirdre set the bowl of oatmeal on the red-checked place mat. “There sure is.”

After placing the spoons at each place setting, she began folding the napkins like Victoria had taught her. “He’ll win a trophy, I guess?”

Deirdre returned to the table with another bowl. “Not a trophy. A silver rodeo belt buckle.”

“For real?”

“Rodeo buckles mean bragging rights, even for a four-year-old.” Deirdre transferred a container of blueberries into a pottery bowl. “Hunter is simply following in his dad’s footsteps.”

“I didn’t realize Jonas was a rodeo champion.”

She handed AnnaBeth the bowl to put on the table. “Not in roping, but before Hunter was born Jonas spent a few years on the rodeo circuit as a bronc buster.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.