Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance)

by Anderson, Cindy Roland

  The stained glass window over the altar looked strange with darkness behind it instead of the early morning light she was used to seeing during Sunday services. A small group stood near the carpeted steps of the raised platform where Pastor John preached on Sundays. Pastor John was easy to pick out, his nearly white hair shining in the overhead lights, but Mariah’s eyes shot to Riker, standing a head taller than anyone else.

  Her heart leapt at the sight of him, a reaction so pure and honest that for a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. The feeling of being in his arms came rushing back to her—safety, heart-stopping desire, breathless anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to hurry to him and wrap her arms around his waist, to rest her head against his chest and apologize. Feel the warmth of his hug.

  She started toward him, then stopped cold when she saw the woman standing by his side. It was someone she didn’t recognize, not someone in the bridal party. Her brown hair was loose around her pretty face, which showcased large eyes. She wore sexy black boots and a tight black dress that showed off her curves. More than one of the groomsmen was sending her appreciate looks, but they could have saved themselves the trouble; she only had eyes for Riker.

  Mariah’s stomach dropped, then dropped again when she saw they were holding hands.

  “Mariah!” Amy turned and ran down the aisle toward her. “Where have you been?”

  “We said six-thirty, didn’t we?” Mariah stammered. According to the clock on the wall, she was five minutes early.

  “Yeah, but everyone else is here already and I was afraid you’d forgotten.”

  “I wouldn’t forget your wedding rehearsal.”

  “Well, you’ve been so busy at the store,” Amy pointed out. She leaned in, her face anxious. “I’m sorry about Riker’s date, I didn’t know he was bringing someone tonight.”

  Mariah shot a look over Amy’s shoulder and met Riker’s eyes. He lifted his eyebrows, a coolly neutral expression on his face, and she looked quickly away. “Don’t worry about it,” she told Amy. “And his date can have my meal; I’m leaving after the rehearsal.” Her dreams of being with Riker evaporated, leaving a hollow pit where her stomach should have been. So he was a player after all.

  Amy’s eyes looked troubled. “But—”

  “It appears everyone’s here.” Pastor John surveyed the small group. “Why don’t we get started?”

  Quickly, he walked them through the procedure and they all crowded into the vestibule at the back of the chapel to wait for their cues. Just before the doors closed, Mariah saw Riker’s date take a seat in the front row pew.

  Stacie directed traffic. “Mariah, come stand next to the best man,” she ordered, obviously not noticing the distress on her daughter’s face. “You two will be the last ones out before Amy and Brad, and the flower girls and ring bearers, of course,” she amended.

  Mariah pressed her lips together and forced her face to be blankly pleasant as she took her place next to Riker. He wore jeans and a long sleeved gray t-shirt that matched his eyes. He needed a shave. Unbidden, the memory of his kisses flashed through her mind, the way his jaw had scratched against her fingertips, her cheeks, her lips.

  Her heart clenched and she bit her lip, ducking her head to focus on the carpet, rather threadbare and in a dreadful maroon color.

  “Hi to you too,” Riker muttered under his breath as they waited for Mariah’s mother to finish placing everyone.

  Mariah’s head whipped up. “What? Oh … hi.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t ignoring me.”

  “I wasn’t, I …” She trailed off; there was no use denying it. “Who’s your friend?” she asked instead.

  “Janessa,” Riker replied. “She’s new in town”

  Mariah wasn’t looking at him, but she could hear the smugness in his tone. She clenched her teeth as the smell of his cologne sent images of snowmen and wood-burning stoves and kisses tinged with chocolate swirling through her mind.

  “Do you want to meet her?” Riker asked.

  “Sure.” It came out weakly. She cleared her throat and forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’d love to meet her,” she said again just as the organ began playing and Stacie signaled for two of the groomsmen to open the doors.

  They stood stiffly side by side as the rest of the party proceeded slowly down the aisle. When their turn came, Riker held out his arm and Mariah grasped it, trying to ignore the despair pounding through her as her fingers pressed into his arm. She’d blown it.

  She walked stiffly by his side and yanked her hand away when they reached the front of the chapel to take their spots on opposite sides of the pastor.

  The organist changed the tune to “Here Comes the Bride,” and Amy and her father stepped around the corner at the back. They paused in the doorway and a loud sniffle came from the front pew. Aunt Janice was already crying and Mariah threw her aunt a sympathetic smile.

  Amy practically floated down the aisle, her face alight with joy. She and her father reached the front and stood facing the pastor.

  “Then I will ask who gives this woman in marriage, and Brad, you will answer, ‘Her mother and I do,’” Pastor John prompted.

  “Her mother and I do,” Uncle Brad parroted. He stepped back so Jake could take his place.

  On the other side of the steps, Riker stood still, hands crossed and his eyes focused on Jake and Amy. As if he felt her looking, he abruptly swung his gaze toward Mariah and their eyes locked for an instant. A fresh pang shot through her and she looked away, silently cursing herself for the color that she knew had sprung to her cheeks.

  “Mariah?” Amy hissed, making her jump.

  “What?” she whispered, staring at Amy’s hand, outstretched in her direction.

  “You’re supposed to take my bouquet,” Amy prodded.

  Mariah’s blush deepened as she reached out for the imaginary bouquet, remembering she’d be holding her own bouquet too and would have to juggle them. Why hadn’t they thought to bring something to practice with?

  She thought she heard Riker chuckle softly in amusement and steadfastly ignored him.

  “I’m going to take off,” Mariah told Amy after the rehearsal. The smells coming from the multipurpose room were tempting, but she couldn’t face another hour, another minute, in Riker’s presence. He’d gone to Janessa as soon as the rehearsal ended and they were sitting side by side in the pew, their heads close together as they talked. The sound of his laughter wrenched her heart.

  “Okay.” Amy’s eyes flashed toward Riker and she wrapped Mariah in a hug. “I’ll see you at home later.”

  Mariah got her coat and left the church, hurrying across the snow-packed parking lot to her car. She considered going back to the boutique, but changed her mind. Right now the only thing she wanted was a long, hot shower and then to hopefully fall into a deep enough sleep that she didn’t have to think or feel or care anymore.

  “Mariah!” Riker’s voice cut through the frosty air.

  Instantly her nerves were on high alert. She spun to face him. “What?”

  He’d come out without his coat and was already shivering.

  Good, served him right.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “You’re not staying for the dinner?”

  She hesitated, then sighed. “Why? So I can eat dry chicken and limp salad while I watch you and Miss Little Black Dress make goo-goo eyes at each other?” It came out with more venom than she’d expected, but he didn’t flinch.

  “Well, you think I’m a player, so I decided I’d better live up to my reputation,” he said casually.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “If it bothers you, why don’t you say so?”

  She stared at him coolly. “No, not at all. I knew what you were from the beginning; I’ve been expecting this.”

  He swept one hand across his jaw angrily. “Mariah, come off it. This is more than a fling and you know it.”


  “No, I don’t know it. Don’t you think you should probably get back to your date?”

  Riker muttered a curse word under his breath and turned, stomping off across the parking lot back toward the church.

  Hands shaking, Mariah unlocked her car and slid behind the wheel. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to … what? Run after him and tell him it was all a misunderstanding and she was sorry? But it was too late now.

  Chapter 14

  His truck crunched through the snow as Riker pulled up in front of the boutique, his blood already pumping. His throat felt like he’d swallowed a pinecone. He looked through the windshield, trying to see in the store windows, but the reflection of the early morning sun made it impossible to see anything.

  After the rehearsal dinner last night, he’d taken Janessa home and then spent the next four hours driving aimlessly around. Okay, so maybe inviting a date to the rehearsal dinner had been a bit much, but it seemed to have worked—Mariah had obviously been jolted. And Janessa was just a friend, so there was no guilt or obligation there.

  He rubbed his gritty eyes, hoping Mariah had had as restless a night as he’d had.

  The front doors were unlocked, but Mariah was not at her usual place behind the counter. He took in the front room in one glance and didn’t see her.

  “Mariah?” The chime on the door would have alerted her to his presence, even if she was in the back. He waited a bit longer, but when she didn’t appear, he moved toward the door separating the two rooms. “Mariah?”

  The storeroom was darker than the main room, lit only by a few dim bulbs. Cardboard boxes of merchandise were piled in the middle and tall shelves full of even more stuff stretched to the ceiling. No wonder she wanted to knock down walls.

  “Mariah?” He walked around the boxes. The door to the restroom was ajar and the light was out. Riker pushed the door open. “Hello? Mariah, where are you?”

  Her car was parked on the side street, so he knew she was here. Fighting the unease building in his chest, he pushed open the back door leading to the alley, squinting against the sudden stab of light reflecting off the snow.

  Mariah stood at the end of the alley. She wore a pair of tightly fitting jeans and her white snow boots with and a green shirt in a checkered print. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and her dark hair tumbled long and loose around her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing a coat.

  “Mariah!” he called.

  She spun when she saw him and the look on her face sent his heart plummeting. He jogged toward her through the ankle-deep drifts. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she said in a choked voice. “I can’t find Lana Turner. Last night I was in such a hurry to get to the rehearsal that I forgot to lock the window we leave usually open for her. When I got here this morning, she wasn’t there.” Her eyes traveled frantically up and down the alley.

  “Don’t panic, we’ll find her,” Riker said, thinking fast. “Let’s go get your coat and then we’ll start looking.”

  “What if she’s gone?” Mariah’s eyes were huge with fear.

  “We’ll find her,” Riker said again firmly. He put his arm around Mariah’s slim shoulders, turning her gently toward the door of the boutique. “Come on, you’re freezing. Let’s get your coat.”

  She wore the same pink coat she’d been wearing the day they met, when he’d scared her in the forest outside his cabin. Cute, but hardly warm enough for a Montana winter. They moved along the alley, calling and looking in stairwells, behind boxes and dumpsters, anywhere a cat could hide, but there was nothing.

  “Where is she?” Mariah asked in a voice tinged with panic.

  “We won’t give up.” Riker wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they rounded the corner and continued down the street, past snowbanks piled high on either side of the sidewalk. Mariah seemed to huddle deeper and deeper into her coat as the search progressed with still no sign of the cat.

  “Has she gotten out before?” he asked.

  “She comes and goes through the window,” Mariah replied. “But she always comes back at night and I lock her in.” Her voice sounded so forlorn, it cut him to the quick.

  They rounded the corner onto the next street and saw the pile of white fur lying on the side of the road at the same time.

  “No!” Mariah shrieked. Shrugging off Riker’s arm, she ran toward it.

  “Mariah, wait!” Riker cried, running after her. He didn’t want her to see it, but she got there before he could stop her.

  The cat’s body was almost hidden by the drifts, white fur blending with white snow along the edge of the road. She was lying on her side, curled almost as if she were asleep but for the glassy aquamarine eyes, which remained wide open. Blood pooled beneath her head, soaking her fur. She was stiff and frozen and very obviously dead.

  Mariah gave a little cry and Riker didn’t even think. He wrapped his arms around her and spun her around, away from the cat. She buried her face in his coat as sobs shuddered through her.

  “She must have been hit by a car,” Riker whispered against her hair. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

  Mariah clung to him, shaking. “I left the window open,” she said, her voice muffled by his coat. “I never leave the window open.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Riker said firmly. “Mariah, it’s not your fault.”

  She cried for several more minutes and he simply held her, doing his best to keep her warm and murmuring words of sympathy. Finally, she raised her tear-streaked face to look over his arm at the cat and a sharp feeling of helplessness twisted in his stomach. He wanted to promise her anything, a whole army of cats, if it would take that look off her face. But he knew another cat wasn’t what she wanted at the moment. He smoothed one hand down the back of her silky hair. “How can I help?”

  “Could you … I know I should probably call animal control and have them come for her. But I can’t … where will they take her?” She trailed off and swallowed hard.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Riker promised. “I can bury her out by my house, back in the trees.”

  “That would be nice. Thank you.” Mariah looked up at him with a wan smile. “I have something at the store to wrap her in.” With a sigh, she pulled away from him. “You probably think I’m an idiot, falling to pieces over a cat.”

  Riker reached out and caught one of the tears that ran down her cheeks with his thumb. “I don’t think that at all,” he said gently. “I think you have a warm, open heart and you made her life better, even if it was only for a little while.”

  For a moment, they stood in the cold, eyes locked. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go. But this wasn’t the time.

  “I’ll be right back,” Mariah finally said.

  He watched her walk toward the store and turn the corner into the alley. After a few minutes, she came back with a long strip of shimmery white fabric, a shawl of some kind.

  She handed it to him and Riker squatted next to the cat. He draped the shawl over its body, then lifted it into his arms, pulling the shawl tight so the cat was completely covered. It was remarkably light.

  “Lana Turner,” Mariah murmured softly, staring at the shawl as tears trickled slowly down her cheeks.

  They turned and began making their way back down the snowy street and Riker kept the cat’s body tucked in his arm on the opposite side of Mariah, shielding it from her the best he could.

  “Do you want to come with me?” he asked when they reached his truck.

  She bit her lip, eyeing the wrapped bundle. “Maybe it’s better if I say goodbye now. I don’t want to see her put into the ground.” She worked her fingers into the folds of the shawl, freeing a bit of the white fur. “Bye, kitty,” Mariah whispered, running her fingertips lightly over the fur. “I love you.”

  Watching Mariah’s grief made Riker’s throat tight. He stood patiently in the cold while she finished stroking the fur, then gently tucked it back inside the scarf. When she’d finished, he g
ave her a quizzical look and she nodded.

  “I’ll bury her today,” he said. “If you ever want to visit her, just say the word.”

  * * *

  Mariah watched Riker settle the cloth wrapped bundle carefully behind the cab of the truck, where it would be sheltered. She didn’t want to believe Lana Turner was gone, even though she’d seen the cat’s body, seen the blank stare. They’d had so little time, only a few weeks really. The boutique would be so empty without Lana curling around her ankles, napping in the corner, or jumping up on the counter to startle her when she was trying to concentrate on bookkeeping.

  “Do you need to call Amy?” Riker asked, turning back to her.

  “I’ll tell her when I get home,” Mariah sighed. “She never really bonded with Lana like I did though. I guess that’s good; I don’t want her to be upset tomorrow.”

  He reached out and she stepped willingly into his embrace. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

  She nodded against his chest, but her tears fell just the same.

  Riker tightened his arms around her and dropped a kiss on her head and a feeling of comfort washed over her, bringing a small measure of relief. He was so kind and gentle, she could relax when she was in his arms.

  But he was also strong—strong enough to dig her car out of snowdrifts and hunt wildcats and take her ice fishing. And strong enough to love her when she was so unsure and afraid. He wasn’t going to break her heart.

  He was safe.

  She raised her face from his chest. “I’m sorry I was rude last night.”

  “I’m sorry too,” he said. “I was mad about what you’d said, and trying to rub it in. Janessa is just a friend; we’ve never even dated.”

  “So she’s not …” Mariah let it trail off.