“Hey, Ellie,” the officer said, smiling. “Heard you’re in charge now. How’s your pa?”
“I have no idea. I was on my way to the hospital when this happened.”
Her words struck Bradley hard. Her father was in the hospital, yet she stopped to help him? His stomach turned and he felt small. “I am so sorry, Elinor. I had no idea.”
She glanced at him, those brown eyes smiling up at him. “Thanks for your concern.”
“Well, let’s get this sorted out so she can get to where she’s really needed,” the officer demanded. “Your name?”
“Oh, I am Bradley Aaron Wainwright.”
“I’m Officer Rudy Jackson. What happened?”
“Well, I came around the corner, and the fire truck was partially in my lane. I was startled, pulled the wheel to the right, hit black ice, spun, and went off the left side of the embankment. I slid down the muddy hillside into the pond.” He pointed to his rental at the bottom of the small hill.
“Lucky you didn’t slide all the way in. That cold water can kill within minutes. Ellie, what’s your take?”
“I was following behind the engine, so I didn’t see everything. He,” she said, pointing to him, “was suddenly flying down the slope.”
The officer looked her up and down. “And you went down and saved him, I assume? Seeing how you’re the only firefighter covered in mud, as well as soot.”
Her cheeks turned fire-engine-red, and Bradley could not help but chuckle.
***
Ellie glared at the handsome guy, whose height was barely a few inches more than her five-foot nine inches. Most men didn’t like a woman towering over them, unless she wore heels and a skimpy dress. They didn’t seem to like women in jobs they thought too masculine, either, at least not the men she’d grown up with in this small town.
She straightened her spine and threw her unburdened arm out toward the other men. “Rudy, you need to talk to the driver of the fire engine. Mr. Wainwright and I need to visit the paramedics.” She tugged on his arm and led him toward the ambulance.
“I told you. I am fine. Angry at the other driver, but I certainly do not need to go to the hospital. You do, I heard.” He reached for his precious leather satchel.
“Not yet, sir.” She stopped near the ambulance and turned to him. “Listen. Let them at least look you over. I have to write a report, since a town vehicle was involved. Besides, these are the same guys that transported my dad to the emergency department. I have questions for them, too. Please give me a break and let me hear if they can give me an update.”
“Fine. I do apologize for getting between you and your obvious concern for your father. I hope everything turns out fine.”
“Thanks.” She heard sincerity in his whispered words. She turned back to the dark-haired young paramedic who had joined them. “Hey, Johnny. This is Bradley Wainwright. Claims he’s fine, but the airbag gave him a bloody nose.”
“Okay. Let’s get you inside the heated back of our rig. Take a seat while I fill out the paperwork. Al, throw a blanket on the seat. He’s a bit of a mess.” Both paramedics chuckled.
“Be nice, guys. He’s had a hard day.” She plopped his bag on the rig’s floor at his feet. When she started shivering, she realized she was cold.
“Guess you got a little muddy, too. Here.” Al threw her a blanket.
“Thanks, Al. Take care of that city guy. He’s probably used to top-notch treatment.”
Wrapping the thick gray wool around her shoulders, she waited until after they finished with Mr. Wainwright, to ask them what they knew about her dad’s condition. She really did hope the driver was not injured. A lawsuit was the last thing the town needed. It was bad enough it hadn’t snowed since the first week of November. The Christmas Festival was going to be a disaster without snow.
“No snow, no festival, and no money coming in for new fire equipment. Bah, humbug,” she muttered.
“Did you say something?”
Startled, she stepped backward into two very strong arms. She turned, surprised to discover the driver of the wrecked car.
“Please excuse me, Elinor! I did not mean to surprise you like that. These men,” he said, pointing to Johnny and Al, “say I am free to go. My only problem is I have no idea where I am, and how to get to where I was headed.”
She smiled up at him. The paramedics had wiped the blood from his face and cleaned most of the mud from his forehead and neck. He was barely hurt, and that was one worry she could put behind her.
The blanket slipped off one of her shoulders, and he reached out and gently pulled it back up. He tightened it beneath her chin. “Go find out about your father, then come back so we can talk?”
“You want to talk? To me?” Dear Lord, he smelled great. Even wearing a suit covered in mud and decaying leaves, the aroma of triple-milled soap and something earthy came through loud and clear. Her heartbeat sped faster and her fingers tingled.
“Yes, Elinor. I need you to give me a hand.”
He wanted her hands? She could envision hours in a soft bed using her hands to discover every hidden taut muscle and long, hard—
“What? I mean, okay. Thanks. I’ll be right back.” She wanted to kiss his cheek simply because of a short yet startling hot daydream. She shook off the urge, because her dad’s condition was a bigger worry. “Wait for me?”
He nodded and raised the brown satchel’s strap to his shoulder. His suit was ruined, but she could tell it was once an exquisite dark gray. He slipped his glasses back onto the bruised bridge of his nose. His white shirt and black silk tie were smudged. His shoes were a soggy mess, but fine Italian leather was evident.
“Your feet must be freezing. Why don’t you hop into my truck? There’s an old blanket in the back seat. Can you cover the front cushions? I need to talk to the paramedics and my crew.”
Once again, he simply nodded, then limped away. She hoped the limp was due to his mud-filled shoes. The view from here was just as nice. The made-to-order suit fit his toned, muscular form, and in no way deterred her thoughts of what hid beneath.
Sighing, she returned to the ambulance and spoke with Johnny. “Can you give me an update on the Chief?”
“He’ll be fine. Looks like a bad sprain, but they were taking him down to x-ray when we got this call. Are you okay? The guys said you slid all the way down the hill on your—”
“Yes, I’m fine. Get out of here!” They laughed together. The paramedics and the firefighters got along well because they met during accidents and sick-person calls. The town was so small they only ran two ambulances, with three different crews and half were volunteers. The fire department had only about twenty men…and her.
“Are we going to pull this car up? Don’t think Gilman Garage’s tow truck can handle this,” Greg asked, standing near his flatbed truck, piled high with tied Christmas trees.
“I think my pickup can handle it.”
“Your father’s truck, you mean,” an older firefighter, the one who’d been driving the fire engine said, with a very obvious sneer.
“Dad is out of commission, and he appointed me Chief. The truck belongs to the town. I will take care of it until he’s back on his feet. Now, get the men back to the fire house and get ready for the next call. Greg will help me.”
Even Andy glared at her, but no one said a word. She stood quietly as all the men returned to the fire engine, turned off the lights, and headed back down the road. She joined the police officer near her bumper, which sported a heavy-duty tow hitch.
“We going to tow this?” the officer asked.
“Yep, but just to the top of the hill. Mac Gilman and his tow truck can collect it later. You keep the traffic lanes clear, and Greg can work the cable, okay?”
Both men nodded. She noticed Bradley spreading the blanket over the front seats. He climbed into the cab and nodded to Greg. Greg started the tow winch motor and returned to the front of the vehicle. He worked the cable controls while she slid down the hill for a se
cond time.
This time, she pulled a hook attached to steel cables. She was already wet and muddy, so she knelt behind the back bumper of the rental car and hooked the cable to the rear axle. She opened the driver’s door, turned the key, and put the vehicle in neutral. Returning up the wet hillside, but keeping her distance in case the cable snapped, she guided Greg as the hoist slowly pulled the vehicle up the slope.
Once the car was in the road, she opened the door, and turned the wheel as Greg helped push it until it was out of the travel lane. Bradley hopped from the pickup and watched as she knelt and unhooked the cable.
“I always assumed that was man’s work. You surprise me every time you move. Where did you learn all this?”
“Dad.” She was surprised her throat closed and no more words would come out. Worrying about her dad was a given. He would be fine, but if he couldn’t lead the firefighters for some time, everything…including the Christmas Festival, was on her shoulders.
“How is he?”
“I’m not sure. They have to do more tests on his injured ankle. I want to get there, but not until I clear the scene.”
“Will you tell me what happened? Unless I’m prying.”
“No, it’s okay. I am still in some bit of a shock. He was reaching for a hose another firefighter carried, when an explosion threw them both to the ground. They were lucky, actually.”
“Good Lord! Of course, you need to go see him.”
Greg asked, “We all set here?”
“Yeah, thanks. Why are you heading up this road? I thought you left for Montpelier to sell that flatbed full of Christmas trees.”
“Got there and the tree lot refused delivery.”
“Dear Lord! Why?”
“Look around, Chief. No snow means folks aren’t really thinking about Christmas. I have no idea what to do with these.”
“There must be something you can do.”
“I thought about donating them to the festival, but how will a bunch of plain Christmas trees make any money? I really depend on tree sales for a big chunk of my income. Someday I’ll get that maple sugar house up and running.”
“Let me think about this. There must be a way to raise money using the trees. It is such a nice gesture, but you mustn’t be forced to donate all of them. Can you give me a little time? Dad’s in the hospital and I don’t know how he’s doing.”
“I heard some of the others talking about it. He fell off the roof?”
“He reached for the fire hose that Andy was holding while on the ladder, and an explosion sent the ladder to the ground. Dad fell on Andy. Andy’s shoulder hurts, but dad’s ankle is sprained or broken.”
Bradley placed a hand on her shoulder. “He fell off a roof? I thought he was just knocked off his feet. I am so sorry.”
“Thanks for the concern. A lovely family now has no barn, just a pile of smoldering rubble. I find in life there is always someone else having a worse day than myself.” She turned to Greg. “Thanks for the help. I will call you about the tree idea once I get cleaned up, get this guy settled, and have a chance to visit Dad.”
She waited for Greg to start up his rig. Waving to Officer Jackson, his returned wave meant he knew the situation was finished.
“If you’ll get back in the truck, I’ll take you somewhere. Not sure where. Where were you heading?”
“Montreal.”
“Yikes. That’s still quite a distance from here. It’s kind of late to travel, even if you had another car. I can take you to a Bed and Breakfast so you can clean up.”
Mr. Wainwright had no car, ruined clothes and, if his blue lips were any indication, was getting chilled. She wanted nothing to do with Sean Peabody, the owner of the only B&B in town, because she’d made the mistake of dating him. Once. She met him after he became a volunteer firefighter. He asked her out, and after a lovely dinner at a pub in the next town over, had driven to a quiet lookout spot off the Interstate. Unfortunately, he turned all hands, mouth, and teeth.
Realizing that what they had was a totally one-sided relationship, she had him bring her right home. Regrettably, his was the only inn with available rooms within walking distance of Main Street.
She instructed Mr. Wainwright to haul himself and his scant luggage up onto the blanket in the cab, while she stood in front of her dad’s truck and looked up at the cloudless sky above the tree-lined road. The slick surface would only get worse until the town’s sand truck found its way to this end of town.
“May I ask where you live?”
“New York City.”
I wonder what Mr. Wainwright will say when he discovers there are no rental car agencies within thirty miles.
She jumped up into the driver’s seat and started the engine. She also wondered if he knew how different the next day or two might be. No fast food restaurants or five-star fine dining establishments here. No bars open until the wee hours and certainly no gentlemen’s entertainments. She winked at him and said, “Welcome to Snowflake Valley.”
Chapter 3
Bradley settled in the seat in the huge red pickup truck with his leather satchel on his lap. Elinor started the engine and turned the knob on the heat controls to high. A blast of cold air quickly turned wonderfully warm. He could almost feel his fingers. He feared his toes, inside drenched socks and sodden leather shoes, were a lost cause.
“Seatbelts,” his companion ordered.
Bristling, he did as she demanded and let the heat from the vents warm his damp skin not covered by muddy clothing. Even his eyebrows hurt from the cold. The radio picked up a country tune that spoke of long-lost love and a big red truck. He was currently sitting in a big red truck enjoying the heating unit. That was all. No romance on the highway, unless he could return to his scheduled trip. Spending one night in some little Vermont community might not be too bad. Anything would be better than sitting in these muddy clothes another minute.
He noticed his rescuer’s hands as she deftly steered around the remnants of his rental car. Her fingers were long and thin, too delicate for the muddy, sooty jobs she worked at. Her personal scent was barely discernable, but his body responded to the pleasant fragrance of girly soap under all that dirt.
Having his body react to her scent alone, meant he was definitely overdue for a holiday. He looked out the passenger side window while willing his awakening body to relax. Then he noticed the lack of snow. He was in Vermont, far north of the center of the state, he assumed, but where was the white stuff all the ski slopes advertised?
He did not care, of course. Hopping off the plane and finding a minimal amount of snow and blue skies at Logan Airport in Boston was why he had not hesitated to rent a car. His mind had settled on the beautiful redheaded corporate head-hunter he might hire to find a replacement for himself.
Being rich ought to mean no longer having to work, right?
When the road curved around an open grassy area, he spotted a herd of deer sprinting across the unseasonably green meadow. Did deer sprint? He had no idea, but with their white tails sticking up like flags of surrender, they were pretty. He would never consider hunting such a beautiful creature. He didn’t hunt at all. Nor did he fish or camp. His idea of traveling was sleeping in five-star hotels with room service. He doubted such a place existed within one-hundred miles of Snowflake Valley. All he wanted right now was to get dry and warm.
The trunks of the trees lining the opposite side of the road were thick and solid brown, but they looked like the kind you would find on the cover of a holiday magazine. Could they be maple trees? Oak? Others had green spiny branches. Pine or spruce? Something that stayed green all year? A grove of trees he recognized as paper birch caught his eye. He knew a little bit about the great outdoors, but something about the scenery felt wrong.
“Where is all the snow?”
She seemed startled that he’d spoken, as if she had forgotten a stranger sat in the truck with her.
“Sorry, I was thinking of dad. Snowflake Valley hasn’t had a flake fall
since November. It is unusual, to say the least. The ski areas farther north are doing fine, and Canada is enjoying a white-out as we speak. The weather station’s latest forecast looks bad, as well.”
“You want it to snow?” He had crashed outside of a town he hadn’t even seen on the map on his phone. Icy roads and thick forests were enough nature for him, but she wanted a blizzard?
“Of course. We rely on tourists. Listen, Mr. Wainwright, I’ll drop you off at the inn, so I can go get cleaned up and check on Dad at the hospital. You’ll like the B&B. It’s just off Main Street.”
“I am sure I will. Please call me Bradley. After what we have shared today, I believe we can continue on more intimate terms.”
“Okay. Um, you can walk to everything from the B&B. Sean will feed you dinner and breakfast, of course, but you might like to check out the café in the bookstore and the other shops. A clothing store, perhaps?”
Looking down at his ruined suit, he curled his toes in the thoroughly drenched shoes and nodded. “I packed light. Underwear, socks, my laptop, and papers…erase that. No papers.”
“I did apologize for that.”
He smiled. Elinor was really being very neighborly, something Mona tried to instill in all the executives and other employees. His rescuer was going out of her way to see him taken care of, but was it because she did not wish him to file a lawsuit?
“You sound very familiar with the B&B. Do you live there?”
“No. I live with my dad. I kind of dated the inn’s owner, Sean Peabody. Didn’t end well.”
She had turned her attention to the growing lines of traffic. Snowflake Valley’s downtown had come into view. Holiday lights sparkled in the low light of dusk. Cars honked and drivers waved to people who walked two-by-two along the sidewalks. Were they window shopping? Who in their right mind would stroll in this weather? Since he was without a vehicle, he assumed he would be joining them soon. Dry clothes would go a long way in brightening his mood.
A single blinking light hung over a crossroads. His rescuer kept speeding along while he winced at the full logging truck that lumbered in the other direction. The road was only two lanes, and they passed about a dozen storefronts sporting windows decorated for the Christmas season. The aroma of fresh-baked bread wafted through the truck, making his stomach growl.
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