On a Snowy Night: The Christmas BasketThe Snow Bride

by Debbie Macomber

  “How’s it going?” she heard Pete ask Reid in a low whisper. The older man gave Reid a knowing poke in the ribs. “You going to score?”

  “The only thing Reid is going to score is a black eye if he so much as comes within twenty feet of me.” Jenna wanted every man in town to understand that right now. If Reid entertained any notion of a dalliance with her during the snowstorm, then he was in for more trouble than he’d know what to do with.

  “I’d rather kiss a rattlesnake than her,” Reid retaliated, inclining his head in Jenna’s direction as if there might be some other female in the vicinity.

  Addy laughed and slapped his knee. “I’d like to see you try.”

  Palmer and Pete laughed heartily. As they’d mentioned earlier, there wasn’t much entertainment in town, and they took their laughs where they could get them. Apparently they had a penchant for low comedy.

  “So—we going to eat or not?” Addy asked.

  “I’m starved.” Palmer rubbed his palms together eagerly.

  Pete stepped closer to the door. “See ya later.”

  “Be sure and thank Jake for me,” Reid said.

  “I will.” The door opened and closed, and Pete was gone.

  Addy and Palmer headed toward the pot of stew and waited impatiently while Reid washed four bowls and spoons.

  Now that she thought about it, Jenna realized she was famished, too. It was dinnertime and she hadn’t eaten all day.

  Reid placed a ladle in the middle of the table, and Addy and Palmer both grabbed for it. Elbowing each other, they fought for the top bowl; Addy won and dug into the pot of simmering stew as if it was his last meal.

  “Addy, Palmer,” Reid barked.

  The two older men froze, then glanced toward Reid.

  “There’s a lady present.”

  Addy scratched his beard and was about to argue, but changed his mind after Reid sent him a stern look.

  “Ladies go first,” Palmer said and reluctantly stepped aside.

  “You help yourself,” Reid instructed Jenna, stretching out his arms to hold back the two old geezers.

  “Thank you,” Jenna said, reaching for the third bowl.

  “Don’t be takin’ all the meat, either,” Addy grumbled.

  “Addy,” Reid said beneath his breath. “I can uninvite you.”

  Addy grumbled again, something she couldn’t hear. Then he said, “You take as much of that tender meat as you want, Miss Campbell. Just remember, some people got real teeth.”

  “And some don’t,” Palmer added.

  Jenna ladled a helping of stew into her bowl and picked up a spoon. As soon as she moved away, the two men landed on the stew like vultures on fresh kill.

  The old men ate standing up. They kept their faces close to their bowls and slurped up the stew. There were only two chairs at the kitchen table and they’d insisted the lady have one and their host the other. Moments later Addy and Palmer had gulped down their meals.

  “Good vittles.” Addy nodded and placed his bowl in the sink.

  “We hate to eat and run, but we better get home,” Palmer said, following his friend.

  “Goodbye, Addy, Palmer,” Jenna said. “I hope I didn’t take more than my fair share of the meat.”

  “It’s all right,” Addy told her kindly.

  “You gonna stay in town after the storm?” Palmer asked.

  “No,” but it was Reid who answered instead of Jenna. “I’ll have her out of here the first chance I get.”

  “I have no intention of staying a moment longer than necessary.” She cast Reid a look that informed him she was capable of answering questions on her own.

  “See ya,” Addy said.

  Palmer waved politely, put his wool cap back on his head and then the two of them were gone.

  When the door banged shut, the ensuing silence seemed deafening.

  Jenna finished her stew. Now that her stomach was full, she felt more relaxed, less irritated. She glanced at Reid and he immediately looked away.

  “I’ll do the dishes,” she said, hoping he’d view her offer as a gesture of peace.

  “No, I will,” Reid snapped. “Far be it from me to ask anything of you.”

  “Then you do them.” She was only trying to help.

  “You were the one who made such a fuss about cleaning up earlier, remember? I’ll take care of it myself.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of destroying your sense of order.” His housekeeping method consisted of accumulating piles of junk in every corner of the cabin.

  “Good. That’s the way I want it.”

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms.

  “Do you always have to have the last word?”

  She shrugged.

  He snorted.

  She coughed.

  He laughed.

  While he did the dishes, Jenna picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them, then dealt out a game of solitaire. She pretended not to notice when he’d finished and momentarily left the room.

  He came back carrying a thick paperback novel. He settled down in front of the fire with every appearance of comfort.

  Jenna had read the courtroom drama several months earlier and been enthralled by its twists and turns, marveling at the author’s ability to casually weave in elements that would later turn out to be of key importance. She’d read an interview with him recently and would have enjoyed discussing the book with Reid. His mood, however, didn’t encourage conversation.

  A half hour later, Reid went into the kitchen and she heard the coffeepot start to perk. He returned, standing behind her. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his presence.

  “Red jack on the black queen,” he said.

  “I saw that,” she muttered, although she hadn’t. She moved the cards around.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Please.”

  A few moments later, he brought her a mug.

  When he set it down on the table next to her, she said, “To answer your earlier question, I do know how to play cribbage. My grandfather taught me—but it’s been years since I played so I might be a little rusty.”

  “Are you saying you’d be willing to play?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  “All right.” He opened a drawer and brought out an exquisite hand-carved playing board.

  Jenna picked it up and examined it, impressed by the fine workmanship.

  “My father made that nearly thirty years ago,” Reid told her.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful one.”

  An almost-smile flickered, then faded.

  He shuffled and they cut for the deal. Reid easily won the first game. They decided to play a second one.

  “How long have you lived in Alaska?” she asked as she gathered up her cards.

  “Born here.”

  “In Snowbound?”

  “No, Fairbanks.”

  He certainly wasn’t forthcoming with details.

  “There’s just your sister and you?”

  “Yup.” They laid down their hands, counted back and forth, and each moved the pegs forward.

  “I envy you having a sister,” Jenna murmured. As an only child, she’d often dreamed of what it would be like to have a sibling. Her parents’ marriage hadn’t lasted long. Her father had moved on, remarried and apparently had other children. He’d never kept in touch with Jenna. It had just been Jenna and her mother—between marriages, of course!

  “Then you can understand why I feel about Dalton the way I do. He used Lucy. She was young and naive and she fell right into his trap. He’s a womanizer of the worst kind—seduce ’em and throw them away.”

  Jenna counted to ten before she spoke. “I think it would be best if we didn’t discuss Dalton.” She’d need to make her own judgments about the man. She would, once she’d met him for herself, but until then she’d go by what she knew of him from their Internet relationship.

  Reid glared at her, then handed her the deck. “Yo
ur deal.”

  “Okay.” She shuffled the cards and dealt. “My mother must be worried sick. I told her I’d phone as soon as I landed.”

  “I saw you on the phone.”

  “I’ve already explained that I was calling the man we decided not to discuss.”

  “You phoned Dalton before your mother?”

  “Why, yes. I was concerned. He said he’d be waiting for me and he wasn’t. I didn’t know what to think.”

  “Maybe his not showing up was a clue to the kind of man he is.”

  Jenna slapped the cards on the table. “We weren’t going to discuss Dalton, remember?”

  Reid cut the deck with such frenetic movements, it was a wonder the cards didn’t go flying in every direction.

  Jenna turned over the top card and flung it down. She hated being put in a situation in which she had to defend Dalton, but Reid refused to drop the matter. “Dalton Gray is one of the most intelligent, sensitive men I have ever known.”

  “He seduced my sister.”

  “So you say.” When she had the opportunity, Jenna would speak to Lucy herself.

  Reid stood forcefully as if he could no longer sit still. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about Dalton.”

  “I don’t. Now please sit down.”

  He hesitated before lowering himself into his chair. They finished their second game and played a third. Reid won all three. Jenna yawned. She was tired, upset and although she was trying to look on the bright side of her situation, it was difficult.

  “I think I’ll turn in for the night,” she said.

  “I will, too.”

  While Reid put the cribbage board away, Jenna stared out the window. It was still snowing hard and nothing was visible outside except swirling white. The wind howled and moaned with the pounding storm.

  She closed the bedroom door, secured it with a chair and undressed. The room was bitterly cold; obviously the generator-run furnace couldn’t keep pace with the falling temperature. She figured that once she was covered by the down comforter she’d be warm. Snuggling under it, she turned off the light on the bedstand.

  Her mother drifted into her mind, and Jenna wished there was some way to reassure her. Then she remembered that Addy had mentioned a phone at the pump station. Turning on the light again, she climbed out of bed and opened the bedroom door. Reid glanced up from his chair, where he sat reading.

  “There’s a phone at the pump station?”

  He looked at her a moment, then nodded.

  “In the morning, I want to phone my mother.”

  “All right.”

  He’d surprised her; Jenna had expected him to argue.

  “Thank you,” she said, turning back to the bedroom.

  “Jenna…”

  She looked over her shoulder.

  “It depends on the severity of the storm.”

  “I’m going to talk to my mother,” she said with determination. Nothing was going to keep her from making that phone call.

  “Let’s not borrow trouble. I’ll do everything within my power to get you there. You have my word on that.”

  He sounded sincere and she desperately wanted to believe him. “Thank you.”

  A half smile formed, one of regret. “I apologize for this. It was never my intention to keep you here for more than a few hours.”

  “I know.” She didn’t blame him entirely. Well, he’d had no right to kidnap her, but his reasons for doing it were obviously sincere; he’d wanted to protect her from whatever fate had befallen his sister, supposedly at Dalton’s hands. Not that Jenna’s life was any of his business…And she couldn’t blame him for the storm. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She started to close the door.

  “If you get too cold, you can open the door and let some warm air in. I’m not going to attack you.”

  She pondered his words and shook her head. “I’ll rest easier with it closed.”

  He grinned and she thought he said, “Me, too” but she wasn’t sure.

  Surprisingly, Jenna fell into a deep sleep soon after she settled back under the covers. She didn’t know how long she slept before being startled awake by a loud booming noise. It sounded like an explosion of some sort or something huge crashing down. The cabin shook with the reverberation.

  Bolting upright, she screamed.

  It happened a second time, closer, louder. Terrified, Jenna screamed again.

  “Jenna! Jenna!”

  She heard Reid on the other side of the door, which was secured by the chair. The door rattled and just when she’d managed to find the lamp and turn it on, the door splintered, falling open.

  Reid stumbled into the room. “What’s wrong?”

  She stared at him, hardly able to believe her eyes. He wore long underwear and his hair was disheveled.

  “What’s wrong?” he repeated.

  “Something fell on the cabin!” Surely he’d heard the racket himself.

  Reid placed his hands on his hips. “You mean to tell me I broke down my own bedroom door because you’re afraid of a little thunder?”

  “That was thunder?” In the middle of a snowstorm? Jenna had never heard of such a thing.

  “And lightning. It occasionally happens in snowstorms.”

  “I…I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “It happens,” he insisted.

  Jenna was in no position to argue. “I didn’t know what it was.” Now she felt like a fool.

  Grumbling under his breath, Reid examined his shattered bedroom door.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “The thunder woke me out of a sound sleep.”

  “Your screaming woke me. Scared ten years off my life. I didn’t know what to think.”

  “All I can do is apologize.”

  Reid paused and wiped a hand across his face. “Want a glass of whiskey to settle your nerves? Personally I could use one.” He leaned over and picked up the two pieces of the broken door and set them aside.

  Jenna had never been much of a drinking woman, but as Reid had said, there were times a person needed something to settle the nerves.

  “I think it might do us both good.”

  Chapter Seven

  Reid hurriedly pulled on jeans and a shirt. Next he took two shot glasses from the kitchen cupboard, plus a bottle of his finest single malt Scotch. After the fright Jenna had given him, he needed a stiff drink. He wasn’t sure liquor would help, but he needed something, and from the look on Jenna’s face, so did she. Silently Reid cursed himself for ever having brought her to Snowbound. If he came out of this unscathed, it would be a miracle, he thought grimly. But on the other hand, he refused to deliver her or any woman to Dalton Gray.

  He poured them each a finger’s worth and carried both glasses into the living room. Jenna sat at one end of the sofa, her feet on the cushion’s edge, chin resting on her bent knees. She looked small and shaken. A surge of guilt shot through him. He wanted to apologize again, but restrained himself; there were only so many times he could admit he’d been wrong.

  “Thanks,” she whispered when he handed her the drink.

  Reid sat at the opposite end of the sofa and stared straight ahead. He wasn’t good in this kind of situation. If he’d been able to think of some reassuring words, he would’ve said them. “Lightning during a snowstorm is rare, but like I told you, it does happen.” That was the best he could do. Reid glanced in her direction and saw her squint as she swallowed her first sip of Scotch.

  “You do this often?” she asked.

  “Drink or hijack women?”

  A slight smile played across her lips. “Both.”

  “You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought here.” The last one, too. He’d learned his lesson.

  “I don’t mean to be disagreeable, but I’m not flattered.”

  Reid wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or the fight she’d given him, but he found that amusing.

  “You’re actually quite nice-looking when you smile.” Jenna cocked her
head to one side and stared at him. “At least I think you are. It’s difficult to tell with your beard.”

  Reid’s hand went to his face. His beard was so much a part of him he didn’t ever think about it. On the tundra, a beard was protection against the elements, as much protection as his hat or gloves. He explained that.

  She took another sip, shuddering dramatically. “You like this stuff?” she asked.

  “I’m not much of a drinker, and I don’t often touch hard liquor,” he said. “But there are occasions that call for it.”

  “Occasions such as having ten years shaved off your life?”

  “Exactly.”

  She stared down at the shot glass as if she had no idea what to say next. Reid spent a great deal of his time alone and readily acknowledged that he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He found himself puzzled by the fact that he wanted to know more about Jenna. He couldn’t understand why a woman who, from all outward appearances, was savvy and intelligent would link up with a rat like Dalton Gray. It didn’t make sense. But sure as hell, the moment he mentioned the other man’s name, Jenna would leap to Dalton’s defense.

  “Are you enjoying the novel?”

  Reid’s gaze fell on the thriller he was currently reading. “Very much.”

  “I read it a while back. The ending will surprise you.”

  Reid held up his hand. “Don’t tell me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of ruining it for you, but I definitely predict you’re going to be surprised.”

  “Did you figure it out?” he asked. He didn’t mean to be smug, but he’d pegged the killer from the fourth chapter, and all the evidence since that point confirmed his insight. The novel was a courtroom drama in which one attorney’s skill was tested against that of another. The case had gone to the jury, and the man being tried was clearly innocent. “Jones did it,” Reid said.

  “Jones?” Jenna had the audacity to laugh at him. “He’s the prosecuting attorney.”

  “I know who he is. No wonder he’s working so hard to convict Adam Johnson.”

  “Oh, puleeze.”

  “That’s what all the evidence tells me. Why else would Jones be covering his tracks the way he has?”

  She shook her head. “To be fair, I thought it was him, too. At first…”

  “You mean it isn’t?”