He took the coffee to Eliza and found her folding up the blankets they’d used that night. She accepted the mug with a smile. “Thank God Betsy hasn’t run out of coffee, yet.” She took a sip then moved to one of the windows. “It looks lighter today.”
“Yes.”
“Once the snow stops, how long will it take to plow the roads?”
“Somewhere between eight to twelve hours,” he guessed.
Her face fell, as she realized that even in a best-case scenario they would be stranded for another night. The prospect for Christmas was as dismal as ever.
A few minutes later, they heard pounding on the stairs, and then Kevin rushed into the room. He stopped at the tree, and his shoulders slumped. “He didn’t come.”
Behind him, his mother and father were entering the room at a much more relaxed pace.
“Kevin,” his father said, in a tone that spoke of limited patience.
“I know. You told me Santa couldn’t come. But I thought he might.” Kevin poked at some of the ornaments on the tree.
“Stop that, Kevin, before you break something,” said his mother.
The Arbuckles were down next, followed by the Bracketts, the teenaged girls, and then the Kellys. Sydney was limping, but other than that, appeared fine. Marshall examined her ankle and found only slight swelling. Definitely, just a sprain. That was good news, at least.
Despite Marshall and Betsy’s predictions, there was no complaining when Betsy served the waffles and strawberry preserves for breakfast, along with maple syrup, which Betsy had warmed on the stove so it would soak deliciously into the waffles and melt the creamy butter.
They lingered over breakfast, but once it was over, there were still too many hours left to the day. Everyone was tired of board games and reading. But what could they do? No way was Marshall going to suggest skiing.
Kevin was the first to complain. He tugged on his mother’s arm. “Will you go sledding with me?”
“Oh, Kevin. It’s so cold outside.”
Marshall glanced at Eliza. He could tell she was on the verge of stepping in and offering to take Kevin sledding. He was at the same point.
“I wish I had a brother to play with.”
Tina rolled her eyes. “You have a sister. Why don’t you ask Anna to play Scrabble with you?”
“I hate that game. Why can’t we ever play a game I like?”
“Oh, Kevin.” Tina sighed and happened to glance in Marshall’s directions. Perhaps she saw something in his eyes, something that nagged at her conscience, because for the first time all holiday, she suddenly gave in to her son. “Okay. We’ll go upstairs and brush our teeth and when we come down we’ll all play whatever you want.”
“You will?”
“Yes. Me, Daddy and Anna. All of us. So what do you want to play, Kevin?”
“Hockey!”
“No way,” piped up his sister.
“Anna,” warned her mother.
“But I don’t want to play hockey.”
Marshall could tell from Tina’s expression that she was wavering. He didn’t usually involve himself in family situations, but this time he couldn’t stop himself. “Maybe Christmas is a good time to do something, not because it’s what you want, but to make someone else happy.”
The room fell silent, and Marshall became aware that everyone in the room had been listening to him, not just the Ritchies.
“That’s a wonderful sentiment, Marshall.” Eliza was the first to speak. “I think I’d like to play hockey, too. If that’s okay with Kevin.”
“I’ll play, too,” Anna conceded.
Surprisingly, Buck was the next to come onside. “I haven’t laced up a pair of hockey skates in years, but in college I played center. And Bonnie and the girls used to figure skate. Count us all in.”
“Well, I don’t even know how to skate,” Alec said. Catching his wife’s frown, he added quickly, “But I’ll play goalie if I can wear my boots.”
“I’ll be goalie for the other side,” piped up Mary Arbuckle. “And Ted can play defense.”
“I can?” asked Ted, mildly.
“Why not?” Mary said. “I think we’ve all got a bad case of cabin fever. The fresh air will do us good.”
“And it’s not as cold or windy out today as yesterday.” Marshall had just checked the outdoor thermometer, visible from one of the windows. “In fact, it’s only a few degrees below freezing.”
“What about the Kellys?” Eliza asked. “I’d hate for them to be left out.”
“I’ll bundle up and keep score,” Sydney offered. “I don’t want Jason to miss the fun. He used to play when he was a little boy. He really loves the game.”
It was a surprisingly generous move from a woman who’d been nothing but difficult up until this point of the trip.
In fact, Marshall reflected, for some miraculous reason everyone seemed to be on their best behavior today.
They divided into teams—the Sleigh Bells: Buck, Bonnie, Eliza, Jason, Anna and the Brackett twins, and the Red-Nosed Reindeer: Marshall, Kevin, Tina, Alec, Bob, Mary and Griff.
Besides keeping score, Sydney also timed the periods and was given the power to call a penalty if she witnessed a play not in keeping with the holiday spirit.
Kevin was so excited he couldn’t stop talking. He planned out plays with Marshall, Ted and Mary, cheered on his father every time he stopped a shot, and called out for a pass just about every ten seconds. “I’m free! Here! Here! Pass it to me!”
For once, his parents had the good sense not to tell him to be quiet. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying their son’s good mood, and when he managed to score a goal, after a sweet set-up by Marshall and Ted in the first ten minutes of the first period, everyone cheered wildly—even the players on the other team.
Marshall was glad he and Eliza were on opposite teams—it gave him a good opportunity to keep his eyes on her, and he couldn’t help himself from doing it a lot. Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink in the brisk winter air, and she had the same athletic grace on skates as she had on her cross-country skis. Marshall had always been drawn to women who loved the outdoors and sports, but Eliza had something special he’d never seen in anyone else.
He couldn’t put words to it, but it was there in the way she made Anna and the twins laugh with a silly joke. And it was there when she hugged Kevin after his goal, and consoled her own goalie when she managed to score on herself.
More than a few times he went after the puck, just because Eliza had control of it. It gave him an excuse to be near her, close enough to see the tiny star earrings that dotted each of her delicate ear lobes, to make out the individual lashes that framed her lovely, bright eyes.
It was shortly after the first hour, that Eliza suddenly stopped skating. Marshall, who was paying more attention to her than the puck, watched as she held out her hand, then looked up at the sky.
“Hey, everyone. It’s stopped snowing.”
Marshall turned his gaze skyward. She was right.
“It’s true,” Bonnie marvelled. “The snow has finally stopped. I can even see the sun peeking out from behind the clouds.”
“Yay!” Kevin cheered, and even several of the adults let out a whoop.
Ten minutes later, they were stripping off hats and scarves as the sky became clearer and the day warmer. Marshall was sweating as he worked to set up Kevin for his next goal. By the time the game was over most of them were playing in just their sweaters. The Red-Nosed Reindeer were declared the winners and everyone shook hands and clapped one another’s backs good-naturedly.
“That was a heck of a lot of fun,” Buck declared. “And take a look at the scenery. I had no idea this place was so beautiful.”
Marshall lifted his gaze. It was stunning how different the world looked in the sunshine.
Snowflakes glistened in the pristine landscape. Rugged mountain peaks, formerly shrouded by the storm, rose dramatically on every side. Above, not a single cloud marred the shocking blue
of the sky.
The contrast from just twenty-four hours earlier was remarkable. Eliza obviously felt the same way. She skated up to him, stopping herself with a hand planted on his chest. “Doesn’t even seem like the same world today.”
“I prefer this version.”
She laughed. “Oh, me, too. I can finally appreciate how gorgeous this spot is. Look at all the mountains.”
He named a few of the more prominent peaks. A crowd gathered around him, as people listened with interest to what he had to say. Somehow he lost track of Eliza and didn’t see her again until later when Betsy served hot cocoa and marshmallows around the fire.
Marshall made a point of sitting next to Kevin’s sister. “I think Kevin was more excited when he saw you score than he was for his own goals.”
Anna looked at her brother and smiled. “Yeah. He’s a sweet kid in some ways, isn’t he?”
“He sure had a fun time today. Playing hockey with him was the best Christmas gift you could have given him.”
“I never thought of it that way. But you’re right.” She hesitated a moment, then went to sit next to her brother. “Hey Kev. Want to see who can roast the darkest marshmallow?”
At that moment Marshall sensed someone watching him. He glanced to the side in time to catch Eliza’s approving smile. Obviously, she’d overheard the little exchange with Anna.
“Playing hockey was fun,” she said, coming to join him on the rug next to the fire. She sat so their hips were just inches apart, stretching out her long legs so he could see her red wool socks. Little bells dangled from the ankles.
He gave one of the bells a tap, and it made a tinny, jingling sound. “Cute.”
“Aunt Mable gave them to me last Christmas.” Her face went a little sad. “I hope she’s not too upset that I bailed on her this year.”
“If it’s any consolation, you made a lot of peoples’ Christmas happier by being here. Including mine.”
“That’s a nice thing to say.”
“I mean it. The past four days would have been very difficult without you.”
“Oh, I didn’t mind helping out in the kitchen. I do a lot of that at Bramble House. And it was an emergency situation, right?”
He nodded, even though that wasn’t quite what he’d meant. Sure her help with the chores had been appreciated, by him as well as Betsy. But it was more her attitude and her cheerful presence that he’d been talking about. She’d been good for moral. And not just the guests.
But he didn’t know how to tell her any of that.
“I think you, Betsy and Griff are the ones who should take the credit. You all did an amazing job under the circumstances.”
“I didn’t do much, but I agree with you about Betsy and Griff. They sure worked hard. Which reminds me, it’s almost time for dinner. I should go help in the kitchen.”
He started to rise, but Eliza stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. “Believe me, I already offered. But Betsy wouldn’t let me. She said she has it handled. I wonder what she’s going to serve?”
“I know it won’t be turkey. But whatever it is, it already smells great.” He wished Eliza hadn’t removed her hand from his arm. Her touch had felt wonderful. Now that the snow had stopped, it seemed likely they’d be able to leave, as scheduled, tomorrow. Which was good, of course. But he needed to make sure he would see her again. Before he lost his chance.
His mouth dry with nerves, he forced himself to speak up. “I hope I’m not out of line—but I’d like to see you again. When we’re back in Marietta.”
She gave him a quick, surprised look, and then smiled. “Oh, you mean to go skiing, and to meet your friends? Sure. We should do that. I need to broaden my social circle. It’s my New Year’s resolution.”
That wasn’t quite what he’d meant. But maybe it was a good thing she’d misunderstood. Now that he thought about it, he must have been crazy to think she would ever go out with him.
He could still feel his ears burning with embarrassment five minutes later when Betsy rang the bell for dinner.
Chapter Nine
‡
The serving of Christmas dinner could not have been better timed, Eliza thought, as she took her place at the table next to Ted Arbuckle and across from Mary. It had been dark for about an hour now—at this time of year in Montana sunset was around five o’clock—and dozens of candles glowed on the tabletop. Betsy had put out festive place-cards and fortunately Eliza found hers at the opposite end of the room from Marshall’s.
Eliza had a lot of respect for Marshall. And she liked him very much.
In other circumstances she would have been happy to be his friend and hang out with him.
But she sensed he felt more for her. And that he’d been trying to ask her out, earlier, when they were sitting by the fire.
He was too nice of a person for her to lead on. Nor did she want to out-and-out reject him. Avoiding him seemed the kindest option for now.
The delicious aroma turned out to be beef stew, which Betsy served family-style from several beautiful china tureens, two placed on each of the long tables. Fresh baked bread and creamy butter, as well as assorted pickles and olives accompanied the meal. There was no salad as Betsy had long since used up the supply of fresh lettuce, tomatoes and other perishables. Lots of vegetables had been added to the stew, however. Chunks of turnips, carrots, onions as well as colorful green peas and golden corn kernels from the freezer.
While not a traditional Christmas feast, Buck Brackett declared it was the perfect meal to follow a rousing game of hockey.
Remembering all the times he’d complained about “not getting his money’s worth,” Eliza had to glance at Marshall and smile.
But Marshall didn’t return the smile. He didn’t seem to have appreciated Buck’s turnabout, at all, but was staring down at his plate.
Eliza felt an uncomfortable pang of guilt. Was she the reason he was feeling so downcast?
If so, it couldn’t be helped, she told herself, resolutely taking a taste of the stew and finding it every bit as delicious as it looked. So why, then, was it so hard for her to finish even one small serving of it?
For dessert Betsy brought out a flaming Christmas pudding, served with a choice of brandy or hard sauce. Most everyone tried a little of each.
“How on earth did you bake all of this?” Eliza asked Betsy when she also set out a tray of Christmas baking—butter tarts, shortbread cookies and chocolate fudge.
“It’s all from the freezer—I baked it weeks ago. I’ve been saving it so we’d have something special for Christmas Day.”
Along with dessert there was a cheese tray and port, and Eliza felt that it would have been impossible for anyone to feel deprived or disappointed in any way.
Mary Arbuckle agreed with her. “Betsy has really outdone herself with this dessert.”
“The stew was delicious, too,” Ted added. “Really, given the circumstances, we’ve eaten very well this week.”
“I suppose you’re disappointed you didn’t get to ski as much as you expected?” Eliza asked.
“Not really,” Ted admitted. “We just wanted to unplug and relax for the holidays. And we’ve certainly done that!”
“Ted and I don’t get much time together during our regular, working days,” Mary said. “So when we’re on holiday, we tend to stick to ourselves. I have to say, though, I really enjoyed the hockey game today. It was fun.”
“I agree,” Eliza said.
“That Marshall sure is a nice man,” Mary continued. “Are the two of you…?”
“No!” As soon as she’d voiced the denial, she had a sense of being watched, and turned in time to catch Marshall looking her way. Surely, he couldn’t have overheard their conversation, but her cheeks grew warm and she had the illogical feeling of having betrayed him in some way.
Now that dinner was over, she considered slipping away to her room. It would be cold, but she could crawl under the covers and avoid any potential faux pas where Marshal
l was concerned.
But then Jason Kelly suggested they sing Christmas carols, and everyone seemed to think that was a wonderful idea. Jason sat at the piano, which up to this point only Kevin had attempted to play, and only then for a few short minutes before his mother demanded that he stop.
Without the aid of sheet music, Jason began playing fluently, the melody slowly evolving into the familiar We Wish You a Merry Christmas. The lively tune encouraged people to gather around. Sydney went to stand beside her husband, resting her hand on his shoulder as she sang along. The rest of them settled on the nearby sofas and chairs. When Marshall went to sprawl on the rug by the fire—the same spot the two of them had been before dinner—Eliza deliberately chose a chair some distance away.
They sang about Rudolph next, and then Frosty the Snowman, tunes that Kevin appreciated and sang in a loud, off-key voice that Eliza found delightful.
Jason segued to some quieter songs next. Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire was followed by the wistful, I’ll be Home for Christmas.
Eliza found herself remembering her childhood years watching movies in the bedroom on Christmas morning, while her family lounged by the pool, enjoying their tropical vacation. She’d especially loved The Miracle on 34th Street and must have watched it about twenty times, at least.
She’d dreamed of having a traditional Christmas herself one day, but only recently, since returning to Marietta, and opening Bramble House to guests, had the dream come true.
She supposed that was why she’d gone all out this year, decorating the house and starting her Christmas blog. She’d been making up for all the non-Christmases of her youth.
But with hindsight, she much preferred Christmas this way. With snow and trees, home-made baking and carols.
Jason played the religious standards next, Away in a Manger, Silent Night, We Three Kings. When he began the opening chords to the vocally-challenging O Holy Night, everyone grew silent, except for his wife.
Sydney had a beautiful, soulful voice that reminded Eliza of Sarah McLachlan’s. Shivers of delight tingled up Eliza’s spine as Sydney carried the tune to the climactic and emotional peak, before softening into a reverent conclusion. She noticed Jason glance up at his wife, tears glistening in his eyes.
Snowbound in Montana Page 8