Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance)

by Anderson, Cindy Roland

  “I—I don’t know what to say,” Caitlin had said.

  “While you’re in Montana, make yourself available to the local doctors too. See what other pregnancy situations are going on.” “This has a Wild West feel to it. Don’t all hospitals have the necessary equipment and training?”

  Susan had laughed. “You wouldn’t believe the stories I hear about traveling nurses going out to small towns throughout Wyoming, Montana and Nebraska. Brutal winters and tiny clinics.”

  “On second thought, maybe I don’t want to be stuck in the outback.”

  “It’s not Australia, but maybe close.” Susan had laughed. “Do you know when the baby is due?”

  “Early March.”

  “Guess we need to process this quickly then. We’ll do the paperwork tonight when I see you during your shift.”

  * * *

  A week later, the paperwork had been filled out and processed and Caitlin was landing at the Billing’s Montana airport in an hour. She drummed her fingers along her leg, staring out the airplane window at a land covered in snow and frost. A few days earlier, she’d gone shopping with her mother for a heavier coat, muffler, gloves, hat, and thermal underwear.

  “I’ll look like a snowman in all these clothes,” Caitlin had said when she saw herself in the mirror.

  Her mother inspected Caitlin’s figure. “Goodness, how do the women in Montana ever attract a man?”

  “I’m not going to Snow Valley to attract a man, Mother! I’m going to become a more experienced midwife and help out dear cousin Rayna.”

  That last part was only a little bit sarcastic.

  “You’ll love Rayna. Enjoy your time away from all the heartbreak of Stefan, sweetheart.”

  “Please don’t say his name. I’m trying to forget.”

  Mom nodded, kissed her, and then produced her charge card. Generous parents were certainly a blessing.

  When Caitlin was trying to pack for two months—and keep it to only two suitcases and a carry-on—she kept having the nagging idea that she was forgetting something.

  Searching through the piles of paperwork and bills, Caitlin found Madame Tallulah’s predictions in bold, black marker. Feeling only slightly silly, she folded it up and tucked it into a side pocket of her handbag.

  “Let’s see just how good you are, Madame Tallulah Alabama,” Caitlin had muttered.

  Later that night, she’d handed off the keys to her apartment to her parents who were going to keep watch over it. “No wild parties, okay you two?”

  A sudden tug came at her heart when she hugged them goodbye. She’d miss them. Miss the city. Despite that, her eagerness to get away from the memories of her ex-fiancé was rising. Hopefully, when she returned to San Francisco, she could put Stefan Rivas behind a closed door forever.

  When her Delta flight touched down on the tarmac, Caitlin thought, “Madame Tallulah’s Prediction #2 has come true.” She’d taken a trip to a place she’d never been. Somewhere so different from San Francisco she could be in a foreign country.

  People traveled for work all the time. The woman had merely made a lucky guess.

  After securing her luggage from Baggage Claim and the keys to the rental car she’d reserved, Caitlin hauled her stuff into the trunk.

  Her stomach was in her throat when she pulled out of the airport and set off for Snow Valley with a map from the very nice Hertz Rental car man. His snowy white hair and friendly, country wink, reminded Caitlin of her dad, and that just gave her a wave of homesickness.

  The landscape was blindingly white from a fresh storm. The snow matched the thick white fur coat she’d bought.

  For the next hour Caitlin saw stunning mountains and valleys while passing through a few small towns. And she saw snow. And more snow.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  Where were the international restaurants? The street vendors and musicians? The sparkling windows of the office buildings and high-rises? The salty tang of the ocean on a breezy day.

  “It is quiet and peaceful,” Caitlin said aloud. “Maybe I need some meditation time without all the distractions of the city.”

  But would so much quiet time make her grieve for Stefan even more? Tending to Rayna who was on bed rest wasn’t going to be terribly exciting or challenging. Hopefully Snow Valley had a library, but she’d grabbed her Kindle with her just in case.

  Deep down, Caitlin knew that she could read a hundred romances and her heart would still have a great big hole in it.

  Taking a narrow two-lane road off Highway 94, Caitlin slowed as the curves grew tighter. Ranchland as far as she could see. Drifts of snow taller than her car.

  Twenty minutes later she saw a “Welcome to Snow Valley” sign and breathed a sigh of relief as she made the final turn into town.

  Caitlin passed rodeo grounds and the high school. Turning onto Main Street she cruised past the public library, a Dove’s store, Tina’s Bakery, and further down, the Snow Valley Community Church. A sign outside the church read:

  There are Some Questions that can’t be Answered by Google.

  This little town had a sense of humor. She decided to explore a little further, slowing the car when she spotted an unusual wooden sculpture in front of the elementary school. It was a ring of life-like children playing; two boys and two girls in various poses of running, jumping, and swinging.

  One of the girls hung upside down on the monkey bars, her hair cascading past her shoulders in perfectly crafted tendrils that looked incredibly real. Their features were lifelike. The sculpture of wood and metal, with touches of bronze, was a combination of a classic and modern technique.

  Someone in this town was an artist. Caitlin was impressed. More likely, it was commissioned by an outside artist.

  The next instant her neck whipped around when she saw another sculpture, this time in front of the town park. A beautiful whorl of swooping, polished oak formed into a tree complete with branches and leaves.

  Seeing the sculptures made her want to cruise further to see if there were others, but nothing came to light when Caitlin realized that she was in the town center and needed to pick up a few things at a drugstore before heading to the B&B.

  Craning her neck, she slowed to read the storefront signs, hoping for some kind of store like Walgreen’s. It wasn’t long before she spied a Dove’s variety store and pulled into the parking lot.

  She’d just wrangled herself out of the car and began navigating the snow and ice in the parking lot. Caitlin hadn’t gone more than two steps before she was wobbling on an icy patch when an obnoxiously loud sound broke the peacefulness of the late afternoon.

  She whirled around, trying to find the source and clutched the hood of her car to keep from falling. Definitely the roar of an engine, and not a lawnmower, but no planes were passing overhead.

  Seconds later the culprit came speeding into view. A dually truck with gigantic double tires and a double cab made a quick left into the parking lot of Dove’s.

  The truck swerved on the icy entrance and headed straight for her.

  “Watch out!” Caitlin screamed. Then she proceeded to do the most stupid thing ever. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, still screaming bloody murder.

  Snow Valley women probably drove trucks and flatbeds and horse trailers and all she could do was trip on her high heels while trying to purchase hairspray.

  Why hadn’t her mother mentioned that she’d need snow boots! She was so cold she couldn’t feel her feet any longer.

  The driver slammed on his brakes, his truck squealing like a stuck pig. The enormous red vehicle slid sideways to avoid impact, coming to a stop two inches from her nose.

  Heaving with terror, her heartbeat was like thunder in her ears. Madame Tallulah had assured her she wasn’t going to die, right!

  Then Caitlin glanced down at her brand new white fur coat and screeched again.

  The truck’s tires had collided with the parking lot pond of slushy, brown snow. She’d been showered in a
gush of dirty water.

  “Ah-ah-ah!” Caitlin screamed. “My coat!” Her jeans were also soaked through. The freezing temperature suddenly felt like twenty-five below zero.

  Her brand new white coat was covered in slimy mud. If the driver behind the wheel of the obnoxious truck wanted to skyrocket her anger to a ten on the Richter Scale, he couldn’t have done anything more aggravating.

  The truck door opened and slammed and the driver came around the hood of his still rumbling vehicle. She swore she’d be deaf in another sixty seconds. Couldn’t the man turn off his engine?

  He was tall and wide-shouldered, wearing a heavy brown coat and a scarf around his neck. A black knitted cap pulled over his ears and Caitlin estimated that he was somewhere between thirty and thirty-five years old. Some jerk out joy-riding through puddles. Remarkably, he was parked in the stall next to her—perfectly aligned, too.

  “What the heck are you doing, woman?” he yelled.

  “Me?” Caitlin sputtered. “Me? You just tried to kill me!”

  “I was trying to park and you were in the way.”

  Caitlin stared at him, flabbergasted. Royally pissed was a better way to describe her mood now. “In case you’re completely blind, I’m standing on the pathway to the front door. This piece of concrete is not the parking lot.”

  The man squinted under the glare of the sun sparking off the snow. “Is that your purse in that puddle of mud?”

  Horrified that she’d dropped her handbag in her moment of terror, Caitlin snatched it up, flinging more drops of mud on her coat. “Does this town have a police force, or a sheriff?”

  “Sheriff Carter,” he answered automatically. “But why would you need him?”

  “Because you tried to mow me into a snow bank? Because I almost got embedded into the glass doors of the store? Because my brand new expensive coat is ruined, and because you’re lucky I’m not dead, or lying in blood with broken limbs!”

  Her rant fell on deaf ears. “Nobody wears that kind of thing around here,” he said with a shrug. “You’re better off with a fleece jacket and a pair of long johns underneath those ineffective designer jeans.”

  “Your truck running me over has nothing to do with seeking advice from a Snow Valley clothing consultant.”

  “What’s a shopping consultant?” he asked.

  “Exactly what the name implies,” Caitlin said shortly. “Does this rinky-dink backwoods place have a dry cleaner?”

  “Hey, we might be small, but we aren’t some rinky-dink backwoods holler like West Virginia.”

  “Pardon me for not knowing the geography better.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “Why—” Caitlin was speechless again. “You are—that was—rude. You must be incapable of recognizing sarcasm when you hear it.”

  “I recognize it, but I didn’t appreciate it, ma’am.”

  “I’m not a ma’am.”

  “I apologize, miss, I didn’t mean to offend. My mama tried to teach me manners, but sometimes they fly out of my head. But here’s a warning. If you continue to run around in fancy jeans and high heels, tomorrow or the next day I’ll be finding you frozen solid as a Popsicle in the fields.”

  Was this guy for real? “I haven’t scheduled walking into empty fields on my calendar yet,” she told him stiffly.

  He had the nerve to grin at her. “You’ll be missing out. Snow Valley’s finest scenery is in our hills. Pretty as a picture.”

  “I’ll wait for spring, thank you very much.”

  “Suit yourself,” the man said, shrugging again. He nodded and then proceeded to brush a foot of snow off the hood of his vehicle. When he finally reached in to switch off the engine, Caitlin could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head as she strode into the store.

  Quickly, she found the right aisle for the few sundry items she hadn’t been able to fit into her suitcases, and paid for the purchases. The sooner she was out of here, the better.

  Caitlin tried to salvage her dignity when she spotted the man headed toward the cash register by ignoring him. She spun on her heel and hauled herself out the door, tossing her purchases into the seat next to her and squealing her own tires as she peeled onto Main Street again.

  Chapter 5

  Caitlin’s anger cooled when she finally left the town center. Passing side streets with neighborhood homes, she tried to get her heart rate to return to normal. She dearly hoped her coat wasn’t ruined.

  After more ranchland and thickets of snow-frosted evergreens, she kept driving and checking her phone map. A mile later, Caitlin saw the sign for the B&B at last.

  Starry Skies Bed & Breakfast

  Try our Big Sky Breakfast—You won’t go hungry the rest of the day!

  Rooms available.

  Ski lifts only thirty minutes away.

  Giving her Altima more gas, she hauled up the slope of the final hill and parked in an empty space close to the front door.

  “I made it.” She took her hands off the steering wheel, not realizing how tight she’d been holding on, and stared up at the house.

  The hotel was a Victorian-era house remodeled into a charming Bed & Breakfast.

  The kind of place she saw in magazines. The property was quaint and inviting with lawns covered in drifted snow. The walkways had been shoveled and an enchanting white porch ran the length of the house. Rocking chairs and rugs and hanging flower pots—minus the flowers in January, of course.

  A lot of money had been poured into this place, including a loving hand with a streak of finesse. How had Rayna financed it so many years ago? Caitlin racked her brain trying to remember what her mother’s aunt and uncle did for a living, but she couldn’t remember. Still, this was Montana. Either they were wealthy ranchers, or they had oil fields.

  Caitlin popped open the trunk and hauled her luggage out, finding a dry spot on the stone paving. Just ahead was a double front door with glass insets.

  At the same moment she swung her backpack over one shoulder and rolled the largest suitcase toward the porch staircase, the sound of an approaching vehicle made her turn.

  On the entrance road to the Bed & Breakfast, a monstrous red truck gunned it up the final slope of the hill, its engine ear-splittingly loud.

  Caitlin’s jaw dropped as the obnoxious red truck from Dove’s pulled in to park right behind her own rented vehicle.

  When the driver jumped out of his truck and saw her, they stood stock still, staring at each other. How in the world did this maniac driver know she was headed to the Starry Skies?

  “You again? Are you following me?” Caitlin demanded over the noise of the engine.

  He stuck his hands on his hips and a slow grin spread across his face. Amused was the best word to describe his cocky expression. “You might be the prettiest girl I’ve seen in a long time, but why would I be following you?”

  “How did you know I was coming here?”

  “I didn’t. How did you know I was coming here?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I got here first.”

  “You coming or going?”

  “Obviously, I’ve just arrived.” Caitlin’s voice rose. “I was trying to get my luggage inside when you decided to run me off the property again.”

  He laughed. “Why would I do that?”

  “Can you please turn off your engine?” she snapped.

  “Sorry.” He jogged around the hood of the truck and then reached inside the cab. The sudden silence was a welcome relief.

  “Guess you’re staying at the Starry Skies, then?” he asked, brushing snow from his gloves and sending a plume of flakes into the air. “Where you from?”

  “San Francisco. That’s my rental car parked in a clearly marked spot bumper-to-bumper with your monster truck. I’m assuming Rayna is here?”

  “Did you make your reservation through her or Wade?”

  She squared her shoulders. “I don’t have a reservation. I’m Rayna’s cousin.”

  Understanding dawned on his face. “Ri
ght. I should have caught that when you said Frisco.”

  Caitlin prickled at the ignorant reference to her hometown. “Only outsiders call it Frisco. It’s San Francisco. Or The City.”

  He stifled another grin as he lifted both of her large suitcases at the same time, one in each arm, and hauled them up the front porch stairs. Her jaw dropped. She’d paid extra at the airport because her luggage was over the weight limit but he’d picked them up as though they weighed nothing.

  Caitlin’s breath came like clouds of smoke in the frigid air. She swore he was laughing at her. Maybe she had sounded a bit snobbish telling him off about her hometown’s proper name.

  “You coming?” he said, glancing back at her. “Your feet will soon be glued to those pavings and then we’re going to have to get a chisel to un-stick your toes. Believe me, you don’t want frostbite. Your skin turns black. Toes start breaking off . . .”

  Caitlin heard the laughter in his voice and wanted to punch him.

  He opened the front door and carried her luggage inside. Somehow, he’d even grabbed her backpack. Caitlin had no idea it had slipped off her shoulder.

  When she crossed the threshold into the Starry Skies beautifully trimmed foyer, Caitlin glanced back at the truck that had nearly run her over and stuck her tongue out. Then she slammed the door and shook off the snow from her coat, livid at the mud stains splashed straight down the front of it.

  “Hey, I saw that,” the man said.

  Caitlin played dumb. “Saw what?”

  “Do you go around sticking your tongue out at big red trucks on a regular basis?”

  “Only when they’re inhabited by smirking Montana drivers.”

  “Good comeback.” At the front desk, the man rang the bell and swiped off his knit hat. A shock of thick auburn hair was on display and he ran a hand through to smooth out its unruly mess.

  Caitlin sucked in her breath. His hair was wavy and beautiful. She knew girls who would kill for that color hair. And paid plenty for it at the hairdresser.