Summer in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance Anthologies Book 2)

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  Her eyes grew heavier and heavier. The book slipped from her grasp. The empty Dr. Pepper can rolled to the floor with a clatter but Becca was already in dreamland.

  Chapter 4

  “Cuddling up in front of the fire, his arms around her as he she snuggled against his strong, manly chest made tonight pure heaven.”

  — Rebecca Dash, Author

  Three hours later, Becca’s eyes flew open. Her heart thumped, as if she’d been startled awake. She was positive she’d heard a noise. At the moment all was quiet though.

  Had she been dreaming?

  Was it just the backfire of a car going by on their road? That didn’t make sense. The B&B at the end of the road.

  The rumble of a vehicle grew. Louder. And closer. Like it was right next to her window.

  Groggy, her head fuzzy with sleep, Becca peeked out through the blinds.

  Lights were flashing all over the side yard. Several big old diesel engine trucks with extended cabs—and a fire truck pulled into the small dirt parking lot on the western corner of the Victorian.

  A bunch of drunk guys off-roading at two a.m.?

  Becca threw a jacket over her pajamas and headed into the kitchen, now practically bright as day. Head-lights shone through the plate glass windows like beacons. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and the maddening lights. She let out a screech. “This is private property, you idiots!”

  Running now, she pushed through the swinging kitchen doors that led to the breakfast nook, through the connecting hallway to the front desk area, which was dark except for one small lamp Aunt Rayna left burning at night.

  The living area and foyer were also a shadowy twilight, although a second fire truck rumbled past the front door. She could see it through the wavy glass.

  Becca shot a glance upward, but the stairs and landing were quiet. Hopefully they wouldn’t have irritated guests in the morning.

  By the time she reached the opposite hallway her aunt was opening the door. “What’s all the ruckus, darlin’? Don’t they know we have to fix breakfast?” Even woken from a dead sleep, Rayna had a sense of humor. All Becca wanted to do was strangle a few truck drivers.

  And what were fire trucks doing out here anyway?

  “Oh, no,” she moaned. “Remember that burning smell from earlier? Is the house on fire?”

  Aunt Rayna shook her head. “There’s not a trace of smoke in the house. It’s coming from outside.” She linked her arm with Becca’s and they marched back to the kitchen to open the French doors to the outside patio. “Time to demand some answers—and kick some bootie off my property.”

  “Maybe we should call the police?” Becca suggested. It suddenly occurred to her that if there were five trucks or more they were sorely outnumbered. “Nobody is naturally pleasant in the middle of the night.”

  “You’re so right.” Aunt Rayna peered through the glass before unlocking the doors. “But I don’t think the police are needed. Hmm. I could wake our gentlemen guests, but I have one grumpy businessman, a pair of honeymooners, and one elderly old coot. Not sure they’ll be much help.”

  Becca cupped her hands and stared through the window. Men wearing big heavy yellow coats and boots were unloading from the trucks. Taking off their very distinctive hats. Firemen hats. Faces blackened by soot.

  She pulled away and stared at Aunt Rayna. “Where did they come from?”

  Rayna pursed her lips. “Only one way to find out.”

  Before Becca could protest her aunt yanked open the door and marched out into the chilly night in her slippers and billowing purple robe.

  “Oh, drats!” Becca exclaimed, following her with a massive eye roll. She should have pulled on some jeans. Combed her hair. There were men—young men—swarming all over their yard.

  Tall men. Chiseled men. Despite the dirt and soot on their faces, their awkward fire-fighting uniforms, they were all rugged and handsome and too cute for words.

  Becca pulled her robe tighter, just as Aunt Rayna threw a look over her shoulder and waggled her eyebrows. Becca groaned. She hissed, “Aunt Rayna! No shameless flirting in the middle of the night!”

  “Rebecca Dash, just go with it. Have some fun.”

  “My flirting skills are lacking even when I’m well rested and well fed.”

  Aunt Rayna’s laugh filled the night air as she stepped forward to the tallest man who was pulling off his helmet. Becca had no idea how Rayna knew he was in charge. Maybe he had some sort of secret insignia, but it was all gibberish to her.

  “Captain Ward, is that you?” she trilled.

  The man in question was at least six foot five and when he took off his hard hat, his hair was a tousled dark color, shaggy below his ears. Blue eyes pierced the night. Becca found herself blushing. She hoped the darkness hid her pale, no-makeup face and colorless blond eyelashes. Captain Ward gave a chuckle. “The one and only, Miss Dash. At your service.”

  Becca rubbed her eyes which felt like sandpaper. “At your service in the middle of the night? Is there a fire? I don’t see one.”

  The firefighter extended his hand. “You must be . . . Becca . . . Rebecca. Which do you prefer?”

  “What manners you have,” Becca said under her breath.

  Everything about him was eye candy, from his features and blue eyes to his easy smile and broad shoulders. Even his voice was great. Deep with a melodic timbre. Captain Ward was devastatingly handsome but he didn’t strut around like he knew it. Vanity was missing. Which was refreshing.

  Becca tried not to be charmed by him. She was way out of his league. A guy like this would have a model hanging on each arm. He wouldn’t look twice at her.

  “Um,” she realized that she hadn’t answered him. “Whichever. Becca, Rebecca, I answer to anything. Even “hey, you.’” She shrugged noncommittally, trying not to be so easily charmed. After all, she had to get up in three hours and fix breakfast! How dare these firefighters come carousing into their yard, their private property? “How do you know my name?” she asked next.

  “Rayna—your aunt. She told me you were coming this summer. We go way back.” He gave the owner of Starry Skies a look under the brim of his hat when he returned it to his head.

  Aunt Rayna shook her head as though his words were silly. “Becca, this is Wade Kinsella. He was just hired on as Fire Chief. Came from Idaho Falls. He was getting a bit crowded over there in that big ole city.”

  What was with the chit-chat? Becca wondered. Goosebumps rose along her arms. It was cold in the foothills in the wee hours of morning. Even in summer.

  Aunt Rayna sniffed the air, lifting her head. “You got yourself a forest fire close by?”

  “Started two days ago,” the captain replied. “Looks like a rogue campfire ‘bout twenty miles from here.”

  “I smelled it earlier,” Becca spoke up. “When I was locking up, but the burning smell has gotten stronger.”

  “Are we in any danger here?” Rayna asked. “Do we need to evacuate?”

  “No, wind is coming from the east and so the fire is moving west away from here. Traveling slow, which is a good thing. We’ll probably have it out in a week or so—if the weather holds.”

  “Heard a forecast for rain.”

  “That would help slow things down.” Wade Kinsella ran a hand through his messy hair. “The rainstorm a week or so ago wasn’t nearly enough after such a dry winter and spring.”

  The other men, about ten of them, had shed their gear and were now unloading the back of the pickup trucks with what looked like sleeping bags and personal duffle bags”

  “So . . .” Becca dragged out the word. “What are you doing here at the B&B?”

  A sheepish look came over the captain’s face. “We were hoping, Rayna—and Becca,” he was quick to add. “We could bunk here. On your lawns. We have tents. We even have our own portable showers and latrines.”

  “Oh, my, you certainly come prepared,” Rayna said with a laugh. “I was going to say that I’m not sure my plumbing system wo
uld accommodate ten more people.”

  “There’s a night crew on the mountain right now. Came to the closest place I knew for some shut-eye.”

  “Smart thinking.” Rayna paused, glancing about the crew and the yard. “Okay, boys, set up your tents along the edge of the property back there from the road, or guests are going to think a band of vagabonds suddenly took over Starry Skies. Bad for business,” she grinned.

  “We’ll even fix you flapjacks,” Becca volunteered. Then inwardly kicked herself. She was much too self-conscious to be serving a dozen men between twenty-one and thirty-five. They’d probably come to breakfast without shirts or something. Their underwear hanging out.

  Becca Dash did not have any brothers of her own and the whole species often spooked her—despite the many lab partners she’d paired up with over the years.

  “Whatever possessed me to say that?” she whispered in a fierce tone as she and her aunt made their way across the patio and back into the house.

  “The goodness of your heart.”

  “Guess pancakes are cheap. What’s ten more dozen?”

  “That’s the spirit, my girl!”

  Chapter 5

  “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

  — An old saying Rebecca Dash steals for her romance novel

  Except it wasn’t just ten dozen hot cakes flipping on the griddle. It was also five pounds of extra bacon and a gallon of orange juice. Thankfully, Becca found an extra bottle of syrup hiding in the back of the pantry.

  Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, Becca found herself awake by six when the sun shot through the window right at her eyes. “Oh,” she groaned, rolling off the bed and into the shower. A good hot one.

  She scrubbed her hair—it smelled faintly of smoke—and found herself blow drying the mess and then fluffing it into a few waves. When she found herself adding a bit of color to her cheeks and mascara she slammed the brush down on the counter. Who was she dressing up for? Nobody lived in Snow Valley that she was interested in.

  Course, nobody lived back home that she was interested in either.

  Her love life sucked. To the max.

  But there was no point in looking like death warmed over, right?

  Besides, she reasoned, there was a willowy blond newlywed who would be meandering through the breakfast nook. And Becca didn’t want to look like a homeless person next to the girl.

  She told the mirror, “Stop being ridiculous and go fix breakfast for seven people and twelve mountain men.”

  So she did.

  The sun was just rising over the distant hills when she flipped on the kitchen lights. Everything was in order, just as she’d left it the night before. Becca glanced up through the big windows to the west. The sun was a strange reddish color. Must be the smoke in the air, although the sky wasn’t particularly hazy. Mostly high, thin clouds.

  The biggest shock was the backyard filled with an array of orange pop-up tents. Becca counted seven pitched askew across the lawns.

  “The flower beds better not be mangled,” she muttered. “We have appearances to keep up.” She figured the two lovebirds upstairs would want a romantic walk about the property later before heading into town for the concert this evening. Or heading back to bed.

  Becca shook her head. Stop it, she ordered herself.

  Just then the flap of one of the tents opened and Captain Wade Kinsella emerged. He stood at the entrance and stretched his arms with a yawn.

  And caught her staring.

  Wade gave a big smile and waved.

  Becca shrank back, mortified. And promptly got to work, her face burning with embarrassed that he’d caught her looking through the windows at their makeshift campsite.

  When Aunt Rayna rushed in thirty minutes later, crying, “I overslept, I overslept!” Becca had the bacon and sausage already sputtering in the frying pan, and was mixing up the pancake batter.

  Rayna clapped her hands in relief. “You’re an angel.”

  Becca gave her a weak smile. “Well, I didn’t get up on time either, but it’s only 7:30, we’re still okay. Maybe our guests will take their time coming down.”

  “Bet our hottie firefighters gotta get back to it,” Rayna said with a grin. “Although Wade told me they weren’t due back up the trail until closer to ten after getting here so late.”

  Just hearing Wade’s name made Becca feel a flush run up her neck. He must think she was a complete idiot. Whatever.

  “Here, Rayna,” Becca said, handing over a laminated cardstock Starry Skies Bed & Breakfast Menu. “I finished this yesterday but didn’t get a chance to show you with all the unexpected guests and evening snacking going on around here.”

  “Ha!” Rayna agreed.

  Becca liked to noodle around with the computer and had designed a new menu for the summer. It had a ribbon border of deep purple edged in green.

  “This is gorgeous!” Rayna exclaimed, running a finger along the words and the ribbon. “You’re a genius—and an artist. I love it.” A moment later, she smacked her forehead. “The crepes! I forgot to take them out of the freezer.”

  “Already done. Besides, we won’t serve them until the end, at least an hour from now. But I’m glad I got the strawberries washed and sliced last night. They’re perfect this morning in their sugary bowl. ”

  “What would I do without you?” Rayna said, giving her a quick kiss on her hair.

  “You manage just fine all year without me. And,” Becca paused. “It’s actually been two years since I’ve been here.”

  “I’ve missed you dreadfully, too, sweetie, but I know you couldn’t pass up that internship.”

  “Yeah . . . ” Becca’s voice trailed off as she got out the crepe pan and set it on the stove in preparation for warming up the circles of dough.

  “What is it?” Aunt Rayna gave her a quick glance while keeping one eye on the firefighters who were now beginning to emerge from their orange tents and check their trucks. “I need to offer showers to them. And we’d better pack a dozen lunches.”

  “Good thing we just did that huge shopping.”

  “The shopping was for our current guests, not twelve unexpected firefighters.”

  “Captain Kinsella is mighty, um, good-looking.”

  Rayna grinned. “That he is.”

  “Is he married?”

  “Not unless he got hitched recently.” Aunt Rayna began pouring pancake batter on the heated grill while Becca poured hot syrup into two pitchers.

  “How old is he?” She couldn’t help asking.

  “I believe he’s somewhere in his thirties, but not sure.” Aunt Rayna said with one famously arched eyebrow.

  A twinge of disappointment twisted at Becca’s chest. She saw herself in the china hutch mirror and suddenly wished she was older and more sophisticated. “Guess he might be a little old for me.”

  “Too old, too young, what does it matter if the man is right? What about Nick Walton?”

  “Haven’t seen him yet this summer.”

  “Well, you’ve only been here a few days. There’s plenty of time. We got a hot, lazy summer ahead of us.”

  “Why should I worry about seeing him?” Becca felt unkind saying it, but it had been two years since she’d seen Nick.

  “Just sayin’,” Aunt Rayna said with a quirk of her lips.

  “Nick Walton is just a kid here in Snow Valley. Why would I be interested in him?” Their friendship had always been just a summer friendship. A friendship that stayed here in Snow Valley, never spilling over into their real lives. At least her real life. No letters or phone calls or text messages.

  Rayna’s platter of pancakes rose higher as she flipped another half dozen over when they bubbled, crisping around the edges. “I’m not saying you would be. But I don’t want you stuck here at the B&B twenty-four/seven either.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Rayna said, covering the flapjacks in the warmer while Becca quickly arranged spicy s
ausage links and bacon on their respective platters.

  “Let the boys in,” her aunt told her.

  Becca slid open the glass doors and was suddenly surrounded by the firefighters, all ranging in age from early 20s to late 30s. She was immediately overwhelmed by the testosterone, blue jeans, plaid shirts, and boots. The deep voices, the tousled hair, the height and shoulders and muscles.

  And their enthusiasm for homemade food.

  “Leave some for the paying guests,” Becca murmured, and Rayna lightly punched her in the arm.

  She gave up trying to keep names straight after figuring which one was Jacob, David, Pete, Wendell, and Tom. Wade sat at the head of the long trestle table and Becca couldn’t take her eyes off his sparkling blue ones. There was mischief and teasing in them, as well as a sultry sexiness. She shivered, bringing out another pitcher of orange juice.

  The biscuits were a hit. They always were when they dripped butter and honey.

  And when the strawberry crepes arrived in all their glorious whipped cream and sugary glow the guys were groaning with delight.

  Elmer and Adelaide Cook arrived in the midst of the meal. Becca showed them to their own small table on the far side of the dining room.

  “It’s buffet style so please just help yourself,” she said. “Can I bring you juice or tea or coffee?”

  “Two coffees and two juices,” Mrs. Cook said, adding, “And oh, my, when did the fraternity arrive?”

  “A bit loud, aren’t they?” Mr. Cook grumbled.

  “They’ll be leaving shortly,” Becca told them. “Actually, they’re firefighters. A fire broke out in the hills about twenty miles from here.”

  Mrs. Cook was instantly alarmed. “Do we need to evacuate?”

  “Oh, no. It’s almost contained. Captain Wade is a friend of Rayna’s so they set up tents last night and we’re feeding them for a couple of days. They finally got a shift break.”

  “Hmm, I see. Your sign says that deer are known to gallivant in the yard during breakfast,” Mrs. Cook added, peering through the window at all the tents and trucks littering the flower gardens and sweep of lawn. “Instead we get firefighters gallivanting about the yard.”