Snowed in with the Single Dad

by Melinda Curtis

“Like I’m chopped liver,” Sophie mumbled.

  “You can take off, too, sister dear.” Shane’s tone turned smarmy. “You aren’t serving on the town council.”

  “Oh,” Sophie huffed. “Don’t try to turn the mess you made yesterday into something it’s not.”

  “That’s right.” Mitch appeared at the check-in desk. “You’re sitting in as an honorary, temporary member.” He wore a thick blue jacket and knit cap, a sure sign he was headed outside. He cradled multiple pairs of snowshoes, which he’d offered to loan to Laurel and Sophie. “Oddly enough, I find myself agreeing with Shane on one note.” His dark gaze landed on Laurel. “Laurel should go home.”

  Laurel’s heart twisted in her chest. All Mitch’s words of encouragement. All the times she’d felt seen... She’d thought after they’d banded together against Shane that Mitch would stop trying to get rid of her.

  What did it matter? As soon as the truth was out, Mitch wouldn’t look at her the same way. He valued truth and integrity. The circumstances of how she became pregnant were proof she couldn’t meet his high standards.

  She held her head high, refusing to let him see how much his words hurt. “Home? I don’t know where that is anymore.” Since Laurel had had to vacate the condominium she’d lived in before she came, the one owned by the Monroe Holding Company. “Maybe this is my home now. I mean, not this inn, but Second Chance.” She glanced at Shane. “Isn’t there an unoccupied cabin I can move to? Me and my dress, that is.”

  Everyone fell silent. Even Alexander and Andrew stopped counting spokes to stare at her.

  “Why is everyone looking at me?” Oh, the irony. Now wasn’t the time to miss being an overlooked shadow. “Sophie said I should stay until I knew where my heart lay.” Laurel tried not to look at Mitch. She really did. But...

  It was those babies, plain and simple. They looked at Mitch with longing.

  And Mitch? There were mixed messages in those dark eyes.

  Laurel’s chin notched higher.

  Gabby entered the room. “Dad, can I have my phone?”

  “No.” Mitch didn’t turn to face his daughter. He kept staring at Laurel, an indecipherable look on his face.

  Gabby didn’t give up. “Dad, when can I have my phone?”

  “When I can trust you again.” But Mitch said it while he scanned Laurel’s attire—a thin blue boatneck sweater and leggings made out of gray sweatshirt material. “Laurel should go home. Today.”

  Laurel’s hands knotted into fists and those fists landed on her hips. “Because my wardrobe is a bad influence on Gabby? Didn’t you just tell me yesterday that I needed to be happy about my pregnancy? Did you ever stop and wonder if maybe I’d be unhappy if I went back to Hollywood?”

  For once, Gabby didn’t speak. She watched their exchange with interest.

  But she wasn’t the only one interested in their argument. Everyone was watching.

  “Let’s set aside your happiness for a moment and think about your daughters’.” Mitch set the snowshoes on the planked floor by the door. “What’s best for your babies might not include hiking through the snow at six thousand feet.”

  Laurel frowned. She’d expected a fight about her stylishly bad influence on his daughter, not a safety lecture.

  Shane gestured toward Mitch with his coffee cup. “He’s got a point.”

  Sophie snorted. “Neither one of you has been pregnant, so what would you guys know about it? I mean, just look at her.” Sophie gestured at Laurel. “She’s in her prime and so healthy. I bet she could climb any mountain out there, right?”

  Zeke didn’t take his eyes from Sophie. “Right,” he breathed.

  “Oh, boy,” Shane mumbled. His words unlocked the freeze on the twins.

  Alexander ran to Shane, grabbing his legs. “Let’s find trouble.”

  Andrew followed. “Lots and lots of trouble.”

  Shane barely kept his coffee from spilling.

  “There’s a town council meeting in an hour,” Mitch said without relinquishing his intense regard of Laurel. “Plenty of time to sled or build a snow fort outside.”

  “Boys, we’re being dismissed.” Shane saluted and began bundling the twins in their jackets. “Which is good, because this isn’t our fight. I’ll tell Holden you’re staying here for now, Laurel.”

  “How about tell Holden we need her here?” Sophie helped her kids into their boots. “I know I do.”

  Facing Mitch, Laurel widened her stance, like a boxer preparing for a long round. “I’m not giving up on my dreams by choosing to stay.” It would be impossible to pursue her career as soon as her news broke. “I’m going across the street, not climbing Kilimanjaro. I know when you first met me I was weak with morning sickness, but I’m okay now.”

  “When I say you should go back to California, I only have your best interests at heart.” Something hard in his gaze softened. “Those dreams of yours will be harder to reach from Idaho.”

  Try impossible.

  “Oh, wow. This is awkward.” Gabby smiled, looking anything but uncomfortable. “Privacy boundary breached. My dad has the hots for a guest.”

  Laurel’s cheeks had never heated so fast. Shane snagged Andrew’s jacket zipper halfway up, and Sophie fell over trying to put Alexander’s boot on.

  “Gabby,” Mitch cautioned.

  The teen refused to acknowledge his warning. “How did this happen? A few days ago, you didn’t even like her.” Tossing her strawberry blond hair, Gabby gave Laurel a sweeter than sweet smile. “No offense, Laurel.”

  “None taken,” she choked out.

  “Gabby!” Mitch said louder, turning to face his beloved ray of sunshine.

  “Dad.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest and arched her brows. “You can buy my silence. Any old time.”

  “With your cell phone,” Mitch guessed.

  “I’m going to hire that girl someday.” Shane hustled the twins outside. “She’ll make a great negotiator.”

  “If she survives her teenage years,” Zeke added, half under his breath.

  Sophie mumbled something about needing to impart safety rules and followed Shane and the twins out the door.

  “I will not be blackmailed.” Mitch raised his voice higher than his hunched shoulders. “A cell phone requires maturity.”

  “I can be mature.” Gabby was yelling now, too.

  Laurel was reminded of the shouts of her parents, her mother berating Ashley when she didn’t land a job, her father chastising her older brother when he didn’t make the basketball team. She hated confrontation, but she couldn’t move. Not her feet anyway. The only thing she could move was her lips. “Stop this.”

  They didn’t hear her.

  “I’m growing up fast,” Gabby announced. “Everyone says so. Everyone but you!”

  “You’re growing up too fast,” Mitch retorted. “Which some might take to mean you’re too big for your britches!”

  “Please stop.” The walls closed in on Laurel.

  “I’m going to look up what that phrase means later.” Gabby frowned. “Along with themes for spring weddings because you do want to marry Laurel before the babies come, don’t you?”

  “Gabby!”

  “That’s enough!” Laurel shouted, stepping between them. “Be quiet. Both of you. You’re upsetting my girls.” She laid a hand on her belly.

  Gabby smiled like a satisfied cat, and Mitch continued to scowl at his daughter, but they’d stopped hollering at least.

  “Let’s begin the conversation again,” Laurel said in a calm voice. “This time using your indoor voices. Mitch, I think I can decide what dreams to pursue and what dreams to put on the back burner in order to be a good mother.” Although she appreciated his consideration. Too much. “And thank you for offering to loan me snowshoes. I could use a little exercise and Sophie could use the com
pany.” She pinned Gabby with her gaze. “And you, girlfriend. When you’ve done something wrong and get caught, like running a red light or smuggling contraband—” meaning her cell phone “—you have to serve the time. Which means your father needs to establish an end date for your infraction.”

  “When she turns eighteen,” Mitch murmured.

  “Dad!”

  These two...

  “Remember my babies. Please.” Laurel held up her hands and turned to Mitch. “Counselor, your suggested, reasonable length of punishment is...”

  Mitch chewed on Laurel’s peacekeeping proposition to the limits of Gabby’s patience—who, by the way, hadn’t faired any better with her knitting with Odette than Laurel had. “A month.”

  “Two weeks,” Gabby countered.

  “Two weeks on the condition you disable all social media apps upon repossession.” Mitch answered so quickly he must have been considering his terms last night while he paced.

  “Deal.” Gabby smiled, a real one this time. She ran over to her father and hugged him. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too, honey,” Mitch said gruffly, patting her awkwardly.

  “Ahh...” Zeke sniffed as if he was touched by the father and daughter hug, although from his smile Laurel knew that wasn’t the case. “Who needs TV when I’ve got drama at the inn?”

  Gabby’s cheeks blossomed with color, but she didn’t run away. She took Laurel’s hands. “You know I’m okay with you and my dad, right?”

  “Umm...” Laurel wanted to disappear. “Thanks, but we’re just friends.” The look Mitch gave Laurel just then made her heart pound. Was she wrong about the friend thing?

  “I’m off to do schoolwork.” Gabby smiled and skipped into her room.

  Laurel cleared her throat.

  Mitch’s gaze was intense. A flutter grew inside her chest, urging her to lean into Mitch’s embrace. They’d agreed not to talk about the attraction between them, but apparently that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be aware of it.

  Friends? It didn’t feel like it.

  “I’m going to escort you across the street to your destination.” Mitch disappeared into his apartment. “You’ll need poles, too.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do,” he called back. “Sometimes snowshoes take a while to get used to.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Ella had conquered the skill when she was here.

  Mitch gave Laurel a small, yet determined smile. “But I have the keys to those buildings. If I... If you let me accompany you, I’ll shovel the snow and unlock the doors.”

  “That’s an offer a single lady can’t refuse,” Sophie said, having stepped inside. She turned so only Laurel could see her, and mouthed, He’s a keeper.

  Sophie misunderstood. Mitch was indeed a keeper.

  He just didn’t want to keep her.

  * * *

  “SNOWSHOEING IS LIKE ICE-SKATING,” Laurel said, snowshoeing behind Mitch.

  “Snowshoeing is nothing like ice-skating, Laurel.” Sophie brought up the rear. “It’s more like walking on water.”

  The sun glittered off the snow bright enough to blind Mitch, had he not been wearing sunglasses. He walked sideways up the mountain in his snowshoes, stomping down snow so the women could safely follow. The slow pace allowed him to dwell too much in his head.

  Laurel’s announcement that she wasn’t leaving town weighed on him.

  Red-carpet dress designers didn’t live in small, remote towns. Harlan had spoken proudly of Laurel’s gentle nature and creative talent. And babies... Babies needed readily available medical care. He still had no responses to his ad for a town doctor. She couldn’t stay. It wasn’t safe and she wouldn’t be happy.

  “When I say snowshoeing is like ice-skating,” Laurel sounded like something had worn thin—her patience or her stamina, “I meant I don’t like either one.”

  Sophie laughed, the sound an echo of her children’s laughter as they raced down Sled Hill with Shane.

  Mitch stopped climbing and turned, searching Laurel’s face to see how she was holding up. Her cheeks were rosy. Her blue eyes bright. She looked fine. She looked happier than she’d been ever since she’d arrived in Second Chance.

  Laurel caught Mitch staring and waved him off. “I’m chirping, Counselor, not giving up.”

  Chirping. It was a term Harlan used to use when he was venting about something.

  With the beginnings of a smile, Mitch began to tell Laurel as much. Until he realized he couldn’t share that. If he was going to uphold the nondisclosure agreement, he’d have to watch everything he said.

  Mood dampened, Mitch resumed his climb, noting Roy heading toward them.

  “Given the Lee family founded this town and were related to Grandpa Harlan...” Sophie gulped in air. “We should come naturally to snowshoeing.”

  “Says the woman who hasn’t worked out in years,” Laurel teased.

  “Don’t judge.” Sophie didn’t sound as if she minded being baited. “You’ll see how hard it is to parent twins and exercise soon enough.”

  A part of Mitch wanted to smile, to enjoy their banter. But he had to put some distance between them and honor his promise, even if it seemed Harlan wasn’t able to honor his.

  “Morning.” Roy had reached the mercantile. “I bet you could use a hand.” He had a shovel strapped to his back, same as Mitch.

  Mitch wasn’t going to refuse. Several feet of sloping snow blocked each door. “If you dig out the mercantile, I’ll dig out the trading post.”

  “It’s beautiful up here,” Laurel said. “Cold. But beautiful.”

  “I have two words for you.” Mitch stopped long enough to look back at Laurel, smiling despite his best intentions to remain detached. “Snow pants. Make that three. Sensible snow pants.”

  Sophie was wearing them. Laurel was not. If she fell in the snow, she’d get wet and be chilled to the bone.

  “Here’s the thing about snow pants.” Laurel sounded like she was winding up for a lecture. “No clean lines. No silhouetted shape. There’s nothing aesthetically pleasing about them.”

  “It pleases me to be warm.” Mitch returned to the business of clearing snow, which only served to overheat him in his snow pants.

  Finally, Mitch cleared the snow away from the trading post door, dug a key out of his pocket and opened the lock.

  “You might want to step back in case any ‘varmits’ come scurrying out.” Roy had reached them, leaving a compacted trail from one building to the next. “Be careful, ladies. And don’t forget to have Mitch unlock the mercantile.” Spry as a man thirty years his junior, Roy headed downhill, taking the path Mitch had made earlier.

  Laurel reached Mitch’s side, or as close as she could with her snowshoes on. “Why are the doors kept locked?”

  Sophie grabbed a corner log for balance as she joined them. “Is this like Area 51? Top secret and classified stuff for Second Chance?”

  “The door stays locked in winter to keep animals out. And locked in summer to keep the curious out. There are no secrets here.” Mitch felt bad saying that. There were secrets in Second Chance aplenty, but they were kept by residents, not in any cabin. He opened the door and steadied the women while they removed their snowshoes.

  “It’s dark.” Sophie stepped inside first, her voice thin and uncertain.

  “The snow is blocking the small windows.” Mitch wedged the door open to allow as much natural light inside as possible, not to mention a clear path to escape if anything bigger than a mouse had somehow gotten inside. He dug in his backpack and handed them each a flashlight.

  “Here’s to finding a da Vinci!” Sophie ventured inside.

  “You came prepared.” Laurel looked at him the way she had in his SUV right before she’d kissed his cheek.

  Mitch’s heart beat
a little faster, even as his head cautioned him to consider all moves carefully. “I’ve been inside before.”

  “And you didn’t want to shovel all that snow for nothing.” Laurel hesitated on the porch with him, mischief lighting her eyes. “Sophie wouldn’t go in if she couldn’t see.”

  Mitch got lost in the depth of her blue gaze. “About what Gabby said...”

  Laurel leaned in closer. “About you having the hots for me?” Her eyes sparkled. A guarded sparkle, but a shine nonetheless.

  He nodded, mouth suddenly dry.

  “Look at this! Laurel, you need to get in here.”

  Neither Laurel nor Mitch budged.

  “We already knew we had a thing,” Laurel allowed in a whisper. “I don’t think it’s progressed to the hot stage. I don’t even think pregnant women can be hot.”

  Except for her leggings, Laurel was bundled up like a permanent Second Chance resident—hat, gloves, serviceable jacket and snow boots. The teal scarf she’d knit was wrapped around her neck like thick ribbons of frosting on a cupcake. Her blue eyes were bright, her cheeks had a rosy glow and she’d announced her intention to stay in town.

  Who cared if she hadn’t embraced the concept of snow pants?

  But she’s supposed to leave, a quiet voice in his head reminded him. A voice that sounded like Harlan’s.

  Mitch set aside legal considerations, promises made to old friends, and smiled at the beauty before him. “You don’t think this thing has progressed? You don’t think pregnant women are hot? Why, Miss Laurel, you thought wrong.” He succumbed to an inclination he’d had for weeks. He bent and kissed Laurel. It was a relatively chaste kiss, but it managed to jolt his system like too many shots of espresso.

  Laurel gasped dramatically and drew back. “What was that for?”

  If taken at face value, her words might have given him pause, perhaps establishing a regret or two. But Mitch factored in her slightly breathless tone of voice, the dazed look in her eyes and the upward tilt of her lips.

  He smiled and breathed the fresh mountain air, feeling as spunky and mischievous as Gabby had earlier. “That was just to see if we have the hots or not. That kiss could have been a dud.”