Snow Furries (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 4)

by Susan C. Daffron

  “I promise I won’t tell.” He hugged her more tightly. “Do you want some tea?”

  “As long as I don’t have to get up. If you’re offering, I’m drinking.”

  Joel extracted himself and went to the kitchen. Kat slumped down on the sofa and closed her eyes. She really needed to call the motel and let Becca know that Mona wasn’t going anywhere. If Becca tried to come out here, she’d inevitably get her little car stuck somewhere. She should stay where she was, which had to be better than here. The idea of being at a motel with lovely hot running water sounded so decadent and wonderful. Being clean again…warm…mmm.

  Kat started awake and looked up into Joel’s face. He was leaning over her smiling and holding a mug of tea out to her. “Did you hear anything I said?”

  She took the mug. “Um, I may have dozed off. I was dreaming of a hot shower. It was so good to wash my hair. And now back here in real life, I just feel disgusting again.”

  He sat down next to her. “Sorry to kill the mood.”

  “I’m tired. But I’m trying to muster myself up to call the H12 and tell Becca to stay there until such time as a plow decides to visit our remote little corner of the world. Is Mona still okay?”

  “She and Chelsey are napping under their table in the hall.”

  Kat smiled. “That’s so cute that they’re friends now.” All Becca’s cautions had been worrisome, but Mona was easy to care for after all.

  “Do you want me to call the motel?” Joel stroked her cheek. “This quiet, raspy voice you’ve got going, while kind of sexy, is difficult to hear.”

  “I’m trying to speak up.” She coughed and took a sip of tea. “But it hurts.”

  “I’ll go downstairs and see if Cindy is done with the phone. Before she stalked off in a snit, she said that half the kids in Johnny’s class have some horrible cold or flu thing.”

  Kat leaned her head on Joel’s chest. “So what you’re telling me is that Typhoid Johnny has infected me with some first-grader plague?”

  “Well, probably not him, since he’s fine now. But maybe some child who drooled on a shopping cart at the grocery store. You haven’t spent enough time with little kids to be resistant to all those evil diseases that get transferred around the germ exchange.”

  She tilted her head up to look at him. “What’s the germ exchange?”

  “School.”

  “I’m doomed.”

  Joel got up and Kat leaned her head back on the sofa again. She closed her eyes and evaluated her physical state. Her muscles ached, she was inexplicably hot, and her throat hurt. Now that she’d thawed out somewhat, she was starting to feel seriously cruddy.

  Kat opened her eyes at the sound of shrieking and clattering canine claws. It was starting to get dark and the living room was bathed in twilight. How long had she been lying here? Rubbing her neck, she sat up and looked toward the stairs just as Johnny leaped up onto the couch next to her. Lori jumped up on the other side and gave her cheek a sociable slurp. Linus, Mona, and Chelsey put their muzzles in her lap as Tessa ran around the room.

  Johnny yelled. “I’m a fire engine. That’s my siren noise! Did you hear me?” He jumped around on the cushions next to her. “Kat! Where were you? Mommy called Joel a bad word. I’m not supposed to say it, but it means butt!”

  “I was outside plowing the driveway,” Kat whispered.

  “What? I can’t hear you.” He paused in his jumping. “Oh. This is your inside voice, right?”

  “Yes.”

  He sat down next to her and looked up at her with a sincere expression. “I built the best snowman ever! But then there was a war and he was demolished. I rode Linus into battle. But he got tired and had to lie down, so I fell off into the snow a lot. It was fun!”

  Kat gazed at Linus’s muzzle, which was resting in her lap. She ruffled his ears. “Good boy.”

  Joel and Cindy were in the kitchen apparently discussing food. Kat looked over Johnny’s head and heard Joel say “whatever” before turning around and heading into the living room. He leaned over the couch, lifted Johnny over the back, and put him on the floor. “Why don’t you go tell your mom what you’d like to eat.”

  Johnny ran toward the kitchen. “I want another Twinkie!”

  Kat closed her eyes. Oh perfect. The kid was riding a sugar high. No wonder he was screaming. Thousands of creepy chemicals were probably coursing through his tiny body right now. The couch cushion moved and she opened her eyes again. Joel was sitting next to her, gazing at her face intently. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “No. I feel like dirt.”

  “What?”

  Kat contorted her expression into a ‘yuck’ face.

  He leaned closer to her and cupped her cheek with his hand. “You’re really hot.”

  “I think you’re pretty cute too.”

  “Okay, I heard that. Thanks.” He laid the back of his hand on her forehead. “I think you have a fever.”

  Kat shrugged and moved her head away from his hand so she could lean on him. Closing her eyes, she heard his voice call to Cindy through his chest, which was sort of bizarre when you got right down to it. He gently moved her head, and Kat looked up at Cindy, who was leaning over the sofa.

  Cindy raised an eyebrow at her. “You look like crap. Yup, that’s the creeping crud.”

  “What did the doctor say when Johnny had it?” Joel said. “We can’t really get to a doctor. Is she going to be all right?”

  Cindy waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t be a Nervous Nellie. It’s a virus. The doctor pretty much said the typical ‘get lots of rest and drink lots of fluids’ thing. The fever burns it out, so it comes and goes pretty quick.”

  Kat tried to say, “Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” but it ended up more like, “Stphmmfntblurphf” mumbled into Joel’s chest.

  Johnny poked at Kat’s leg with his finger. “The doctor has one of those beeping thermometers. He put it in my butt! I can say butt, since it’s not a bad word like what Mommy said.”

  Cindy said, “You’ve told us about the thermometer many, many times, honey.”

  “I’m glad you have the other kind of thermometer, Mommy. I didn’t like the butt one. But I like saying butt!” Johnny sat down on the floor next to Mona and pointed at her tail. “Mona, look, it’s your butt!”

  “The glass thermometers are supposed to be more accurate,” Joel said.

  “Johnny, stop that. The dog knows where her butt is.” Cindy turned to Joel. “Yes, you used that old mercury thermometer of Mom’s for years. And I’m not dead, even after the chicken-pox episode.”

  Joel said, “That was unpleasant.”

  Kat pushed herself away from Joel and sat up straight again. She got up and went toward the bedroom. Joel followed her and closed the door behind him as she crawled into bed and under the covers. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair, pushing it back from her face. “I’m sorry you feel so bad.”

  Kat stuck out her tongue. “Ugh.”

  “I talked to the folks at the H12. Rebecca Mackenzie checked in and her stuff is still there, but she isn’t.”

  Kat sat up in bed and squawked, “What?” Where was she?

  Joel put his hand on her arm. “After the storm hit, the motel was overrun with people wanting rooms. Becca had told them she was going to check out this morning, so they knocked on the door and there was no answer. Nothing had been unpacked, and the bed hadn’t been slept in. They needed the room, so Becca’s luggage is in a storage closet. If we hear from her, they want us to call them.”

  Pulling her arm out from under his hand, Kat rasped, “Becca!” She curled her fist in frustration. “Mona!”

  “Mona is fine. You saw her; she’s sleeping on the rug.”

  Kat mimed the action of writing. Then shook both hands, encouraging him to move. Don’t just sit there!

  “Okay fine. Calm down. I think there’s a pad in the nightstand.” He rummaged around and handed her paper and pencil.

 
She wrote, “Where is Becca? What if she had an accident? Did you call the hospital?”

  “No. Do you think I should?”

  Kat nodded furiously. She scribbled, “What if something happened to her?”

  Joel put his hand on hers, pushing the pencil down. “I’ll call if you want, but I’m sure she’s fine. If she slid off the road or something, someone probably pulled her out. That happens a lot around here in the winter. Don’t worry.”

  Kat yanked her hand and the pencil out from under his and scrawled. “I am a worrier. It’s what I do.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Becca was tired of knitting. Her last skein of yarn was looking like a deflated balloon and it was only a matter of time before she had nothing at all to do. Except think about all the things she couldn’t do because she was trapped in this stupid cabin. The reality was that she hadn’t even started the appraisal and she had way, way too many things on her to-do list. She needed comps, legal descriptions, and every other form of data to finish the project. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t even seen the house yet. Pat was going to kill her when he found out she hadn’t done the inspection, much less taken pictures.

  At the familiar sensation of her pulse starting to race, she took a deep breath and plopped the knitting down in her lap. She glared at Jack, who was sitting at the table with a stack of pine cones. He’d been sitting there for ages. “What on earth are you doing with those things?”

  “Sorting. And eating. I can get seeds out of some of them without heating them.”

  Becca got up and walked over to the table to get a closer look. “You mean the pine nuts? At least that’s a food I’ve heard of. I think you use them in pesto, right?”

  He looked up from the tiny pile of seeds. “Yes, although I doubt we’ll find any fresh basil lying around here at this time of year.”

  “How many did you eat?” She pointed at the pile. “That’s it? After all this time?”

  “I ate a few. This is most of them though. It’s kind of slow going.”

  Becca stalked back over to the couch and flopped down onto it. “You must have the patience of a saint. I’m losing my mind here. Isn’t there anything we can do to get out of here? I have so much work to do.”

  “Not really. Just relax. Think of it as a vacation.”

  “Relax? I can’t relax! I have to work. There are so many things on my list I have to do. And I have a deadline. Today is Thanksgiving, November twenty-third. I only have until December first to get this entire appraisal together. Pages and pages of stuff. And I haven’t even seen the house. It might be buried under twelve feet of snow by now for all I know.”

  Jack waved a pine cone at her merrily. “I’m sure it will work out.”

  “No it won’t. I know it won’t!” Becca put her hand on her chest, trying to will the vise-like tightness to go away. Her heart was thundering and she gasped, trying to breathe, but it wasn’t working. Not again. Please no. As her vision began to blur, she whimpered slightly, then slumped down on the sofa, raising her hand to her throat. It was closing up. What if she couldn’t breathe at all? She was going to die out here in the middle of nowhere. She’d never finish this stupid appraisal. Pat would be so disappointed. And she’d never fall in love, never have kids, never have anyone love her. She couldn’t die! There were too many things she hadn’t done yet.

  There was a distant thump as a chair moved across the floor, but it seemed strangely far away to Becca. Maybe dying was like a tunnel. Wasn’t she supposed to go to a light? Where was the light? What did it mean if there was no light? Uh-oh.

  The couch cushions moved and there was pressure on her upper arms. Becca opened her eyes, but everything was blurry. Jack was pulling her up to look into her face. “What is going on?” He shook her gently. “Look at me, Becca!”

  Becca took a deep breath. Then another. Her vision cleared and she threw her arms around Jack, squeezing her eyes shut and hugging him as hard as she could. He smelled like Christmas. Happy memories of sitting around the tree on Christmas morning, opening presents and laughing with her family flashed through her mind.

  He pushed her away and looked into her eyes. “What just happened? You were talking even faster than usual. Then I heard you make this horrible little squeaky noise and you disappeared behind the back of the couch.”

  “I was thinking about everything I have to do and then it felt like I might be having another anxiety attack. That completely freaked me out because I can’t get to a hospital this time. I started to think I might die. Everything kind of went downhill from there.”

  Jack shook his head. “Stop. Just stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “Stop thinking about the future. Or the past, for that matter. Close your eyes and just listen to my voice. Now tell me, what is happening right this second?”

  “What? Nothing. I’m just sitting here with you. That’s the whole problem. I have so much to do!” Becca’s eyes widened and she put her hand to her chest again.

  “You’re thinking about the future again. Stop it. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. What is happening here right now?” He glanced down at Frank. “For example, from my perspective, I can tell you that right now Frank is falling asleep because he’s starting to snore. The cabin is warm, smells like roasted lodgepole, and I’m still hungry. That’s what I’m feeling and noticing right this second in this tiny cabin twenty miles north of Alpine Grove. How about you?”

  She looked into his eyes, which were an especially dark blue. This was stupid. But he really seemed to mean it. “Okay, fine. I’m closing my eyes. And I guess, um, I suppose I’m hungry, too. And I noticed that you smell like a Christmas tree.”

  “It’s an occupational hazard. What else?”

  Becca shrugged slightly, her shoulders moving under his hands. They were warm and comforting. “You have large hands.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “I need something to do.”

  He squeezed her shoulders gently. “That’s the future. Stay in the present. Right now.”

  “Ugh. I don’t know. Okay, I love these socks. They make my toes happy. And there’s a little crumbly noise that the wood in the wood stove sometimes makes. It reminds me of standing around a fire pit at the beach.” She opened her eyes. “I’m stuck. I can’t think of anything else.”

  “That’s fine.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “How do you feel?”

  She took an experimental breath. The tightness in her chest was almost gone. “Better. But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “No. But you can’t do anything about the past or the future. We’re here right now. We can heat up some soup to deal with the hunger problem we both have. But that’s pretty much it. All those other things are just a bunch of stuff you can’t do anything about.”

  Becca didn’t know what to say. It was true. Annoyingly true. “But I want to do something about it!”

  The serious look in his eyes softened. “Everybody does. I have so many things I wish I could change, but I can’t.” He dropped his hands into his lap. “And certainly not right now when I’m stuck in a cabin miles from anywhere.”

  Becca leaned back on the sofa, suddenly exhausted. “Are you saying I have to meditate or something? Because I tried that and I’m really, really bad at it.” The other people lying on the floor in yoga class didn’t need to know she was calculating property valuations when she was supposed to be clearing her mind.

  “I’m just saying it helps to pay attention to what you’re thinking. What you think affects how you feel.”

  “So I should just get all Zen and pretend that I’m all happy and cheerful all the time?” She made a sardonic face at him. “Give me a break. I’m not going to turn into Miss Inner Peace all of a sudden.”

  “No doubt. But if you stop letting your thoughts get out of control, you might stay out of the hospital.” Jack got up and started back toward the kitchen. “It’s ju
st a suggestion. I’m going to heat up some soup.”

  Becca sighed and picked up her knitting, noting the sensation of the soft wool under her fingertips. He did have a point. The hospital experience was definitely not one she wanted to relive.

  It was a quiet afternoon as Becca knit and tried not to focus on how embarrassed she was about melting down in front of someone she barely knew. Now, in addition to thinking she was incompetent, Jack also probably thought she was completely nuts. At this point, her ex Tony wouldn’t be the only one who considered her a head case. In the unlikely event they ever met, the two men could compare notes. Wonderful.

  Although her ego was battered, Becca had to admit that Jack had been so kind to her, it was difficult not to start to like the guy. Talk about seeing her at her worst. She was unwashed, poorly dressed, mentally unstable, and hungry. This was really not the way to impress a man.

  Later, Jack brought the soup to the table as Frank bounded around next to him. “Sorry Frank, you got what you’re getting already. The mini-raviolis were it.”

  Outside, the light had almost disappeared behind the trees. Soon it would be completely dark again. Becca got up from the couch with a sigh and tried not to think about facing another long night of pitch blackness. She sat down and made an effort to focus on the soup. “This smells way better than it should. Canned soup was never so good.”

  Jack took a sip of soup. “I know. Live it up.”

  They ate quietly and the meal ended all too quickly. Becca stared down at the empty bowl. It was amazing how ravenously you could consume hot soup when you hadn’t eaten much all day.

  Jack put down his spoon and looked across the table at her. “It’s getting dark. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’m trying to run with the whole inner peace, live in the moment thing. Even when the moment kind of stinks.”

  He laughed. “Good. But I’ll light the candles, just in case.”

  She watched as he moved to the kitchen and got the matches. He lit the candles on the table and the light reflected in his eyes as he sat down.

  Becca leaned forward, crossed her arms, and rested them on the table. “So you know every bad thing about me, including what I look like after not showering for way too long. My hair is a disaster and I’m pretty sure I smell bad now, too. So now tell me about your life. How did you get all Zen?”