Snowbound with Mr. Wrong (Snowflake Valley)

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Snowbound with Mr. Wrong (Snowflake Valley) Page 3

by Barbara White Daille


  No response. No bright icons flashing on the screen. Not a single musical tone. Not even a halfhearted vibration. He shook the phone—as if that would do any good. “Shoot. I must’ve forgotten to charge it.” He shoved the cell phone back into his pocket, then grabbed the cordless phone from a table near the fireplace and hit the on button. Nothing happened. “The phone’s dead. Maybe it’s the battery. Isn’t there another extension in the kitchen?”

  After taking only two steps in that direction, he caught the look on Lyssa’s face and braked to a stop. “What’s going on?”

  “The snowstorm hit sooner than expected. We’ve all got to get out of here in a hurry.”

  Now he noticed the activity of the other adults around them. They were quietly rounding up kids and putting them into jackets and hats and mittens.

  When Lyssa slipped away again, he stalked over to the window, pushed aside the thermal drapes, and stared through the glass. Though it was only mid-afternoon, he could see nothing but a cloud of sun-sparkled white flakes swirling in the wind.

  Okay… Think this through.

  The airport was an hour away from Michael’s lodge and out of the path of the anticipated storm. No trouble with the main roads en route, no problem with getting to the airport to catch his flight on time. All he had to do was find a way to get off this mountain.

  He looked through the window again and groaned. As fast as the snow was falling, calling a cab wasn’t going to be an option. He needed another escape route.

  He turned and began making the rounds, hitting up one parent or designated driver after the next, asking only to hitch a ride down to the valley. But one after another told him they’d carpooled with extra kids and didn’t have room for another passenger.

  He was stuck here. Unless…

  Lyssa had come back into the room. He hurried over to her. “You’ve got a car, haven’t you?” he demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll drive me to the airport?”

  A long moment of silence left no doubt about her reply.

  Was this her way of getting back at him for things not working out between them? He didn’t take any pleasure in the thought. And he had no time for games. “Come on,” he urged. “I’ll pay you.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I know you don’t have any kids to take home, so what’s the problem?”

  “I do have kids to take home. Amber’s responsible for several of them, and she left them in my care.”

  Good thing, he realized suddenly. As eager as he was to get off this mountain, he didn’t need to be alone with her in a car or in this lodge or anywhere else.

  “Before I can leave,” she added, “I have to store the leftover food, put out the fire, and close up the house.”

  “I’ll help you.” Anything to get moving.

  “You can handle the fire, I suppose,” she said grudgingly. “But take off that costume first, please. It’s a rental, and we can’t risk singed fur.”

  He started undoing the hook closures down the front of his jacket, his fingers clumsy in his haste to get out of the suit. And out of here.

  “Nick!” Quickly, she covered his hands with hers.

  The warmth of her fingers suddenly made him even more ready to shed this costume, to pull her closer and—

  A loud gasp from Tommy cut off his thought mid-fantasy. Getting wrapped up in Lyssa had made Nick forget the kids were still standing there. He turned in time to see the boy give a ferocious tug on Mollie’s arm. The girl was forced to bend down far enough to let the younger kid whisper into her ear.

  “Not here, Santa,” Lyssa hissed, directing his attention back her way. She closed the one hook he’d managed to open and glanced around the room.

  Along with the Terrible Trio, another handful of kids stood staring at him as their moms or dads or drivers buttoned their jackets. He should’ve known Santa would always be the star of the show.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “I left my clothes upstairs, anyhow. Be right back.”

  Two steps later, something on the floor moved beneath his foot, then skidded a handful of inches, and finally shot out from under him. He went down, wrenching his ankle in the clunky Santa boot and landing on his butt with a thud that seemed to jar the room.

  Under his breath, he muttered a very un-Santa-like word.

  Now, even the adults in the room stopped to stare at him. Beneath his snowy white beard, Nick flushed. They couldn’t have heard him, could they?

  “Are you all right?”

  Lyssa’s voice held concern but no reproach. Good. She couldn’t have heard his choice word, or he’d certainly have gotten a lecture from her. And if she hadn’t overheard him, no one else would have, either.

  “I’m just dandy,” he said through gritted teeth. “Who the heck set that booby trap?” He looked across the floor to see the battered remains of what, a little while ago, had been a brand-new fire engine.

  “It was an accident, Nick,” Lyssa whispered.

  “Sure. Tell that to my ankle.” He shifted, winced, and—by a natural connection of ideas—looked over to the kid who had last held the trap.

  Tommy gulped and scooted behind Mollie.

  “Nick!” Lyssa whispered. “You can’t take this out on him.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered, his pride now hurting almost as much as his ankle. “What do you take me for? After all, the kid’s only in kindergarten.” A couple of the parents inched closer, but he waved them away. “No problem, people. All Santa’s extra padding—I mean, weight, of course—took most of the fall.”

  The adults went back to dressing the kids and urging them to the door. The room began to empty. The Terrible Trio continued to stare.

  “Let me help you up, at least,” Lyssa offered.

  She knelt and slid one arm behind his back. The spice-scented perfume she wore floated in the air. Her hair brushed his shoulder. Her mouth was close to his cheek.

  His heart gave a mighty, uneven thump.

  Maybe that fall had damaged more than his ankle…

  “I’m okay,” he muttered. “I can handle it.” His entire right foot throbbed, but it was nothing compared to that erratic heartbeat. He needed to get away from Lyssa.

  He rose, balancing on his left foot, and took a deep breath before shifting his weight to his right foot. “I’m fine, see?” He took a cautious step. Pain shot through his ankle. As his injured leg threatened to buckle, he flung his arm around her shoulders. She staggered, then braced herself.

  Dang. His fantasy had involved sweeping her off her feet, not attempting to knock her to the ground.

  He looked around and saw with relief that no one had noticed. Everyone was too busy bundling up.

  Lyssa wrapped her arm more firmly around his waist. It felt both comfortable and strange. Comfortable, because when they were dating she’d often slipped her arm around him as they walked together. Strange, because he’d never before had so much bulk between her arm and his body. This Santa suit had to go.

  “I’m okay,” he confirmed. He took a couple of tentative steps forward to show her. This time, he managed to stay upright. “You do what you’ve got to do, and I’ll get upstairs to change.”

  “Okay.” She stood frowning and biting her lip.

  Her concern surprised him. Till this point, he hadn’t seen any indication that she still cared about him. Of course, her worry could be focused on their situation in general, and he might only be a fool for believing her concern included him.

  “Go,” he urged, not wanting her to have to witness his weakness any longer. And definitely not wanting her to see if he happened to fall flat on his face.

  “Okay,” she said again and headed toward the lodge’s kitchen.

  After gritting his teeth and steeling himself against the pain, he began limping off in the opposite direction as quickly as he could go.

  Which wasn’t very quickly. Or at all gracefully.
>
  And his progress sure as he— heck wasn’t going to be free of un-Santa-like language much longer.

  Chapter Three

  “Are we all ready?”

  The group standing around Lyssa nodded. Still, she frowned as she led her three—or should she say four?—charges through the front doorway and out into a biting cold wind. Up to this point, the kids had cooperated without a murmur. So had Nick, but she didn’t know how long he would be able to handle his frustration over his ankle.

  A ring of tall pine trees surrounding the lodge provided some shelter from the elements. Not enough. This afternoon’s snowfall had already crept up to cover the first couple of steps as well as the path to the driveway.

  When she’d arrived earlier, vans and SUVs had lined both sides of the drive. She had been forced to park at the end of a long row of vehicles. Now her car stood alone in the whirling snow, its hubcaps in danger of disappearing.

  So might they all, if they didn’t leave soon.

  Nick had stopped on the porch beside her, his jaw set.

  “Do you want to change your mind about attempting the trip to the car?” she murmured. “I can come back to pick you up.”

  “And lose more time?” He shook his head. “I’ll make it.”

  Inside the lodge, she had watched him hop down the stairs from the second floor, where he’d gone to change out of his Santa costume. That trip alone looked like it had nearly done him in. She couldn’t imagine how much pain he was in by now or how he was going to get to the end of the driveway and her car.

  “You’re sure nothing’s broken?”

  “I’m sure. Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.” He hobbled to the edge of the porch and stood looking at the swirling snow.

  “You’re right. At this elevation, whiteout conditions could hit in seconds, then who knows how long we’d be stranded here on the mountainside.” As if to underscore her statement, a ferocious blast of frigid air sent snow plummeting from the branches of a nearby tree.

  Almost out of sight down the lane, the last of the vehicles filled with partygoers disappeared in a swirl of white. The drivers left behind nothing but quickly vanishing tire tracks and a faint winking glow of taillights.

  “Woo hoo, let’s go!” Tommy cried, jumping from the edge of the porch onto the snow-covered path at the foot of the steps.

  Brent stood staring in front of him as if he hadn’t noticed the snow. Mollie observed Nick. Her face wore the same level of concentration Lyssa had seen when she had spent some time volunteering in her sister Callie’s classroom. Tommy, at least, was treating this as an adventure.

  Lyssa hoped it would stay that way for them all.

  Nick acted as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. What could be so important that he would risk flying in this weather? If the airport would even allow planes to take off—which she seriously doubted would happen for a while. But of course, when it came to a moneymaking opportunity, everything about it would be important to Nick. It was his single-minded attention to business that had put an end to their relationship before it had truly begun.

  Inside the lodge earlier, after changing out of the Santa suit, he had come back downstairs again and taken care of the fire. To her surprise, the kids accepted his appearance without a word, although Brent had raised his eyebrows for a second before retreating behind his bored expression again.

  “Tommy, you come back here,” Mollie demanded, hurrying after the younger boy.

  Brent followed the pair.

  Halfway down the steps, Lyssa paused, looked toward the kids, then back at Nick. She swallowed a sigh. She didn’t want to be near him, let alone have to touch him again. But they had to get out of here, and obviously, he was in even more pain now than he had been earlier. She wished she’d thought to check one of the medicine cabinets in the lodge for aspirin.

  In any case, he wasn’t going to get off this porch without her help.

  “You can’t put all your weight on me, but I can at least give you some support till you’re on solid ground again. Well”—she glanced down at where the steps should be—“flat ground, anyway. I don’t know that it will be solid for very long.” She slipped her arm around his waist.

  After a second’s hesitation, he draped his arm around her shoulders and reached for the porch railing with his free hand.

  For a moment, more or less snuggled against him, she closed her eyes and imagined the two of them together…somewhere by themselves…somewhere back in time…

  Then she opened her eyes, literally, to cold reality. She was letting her emotions get the better of her only because of the seriousness of their situation.

  Ahead of them, apparently feeling no anxiety at all, Tommy ran back and forth across the drive, kicking up loose snow.

  Nick hopped from one step down to the next, putting most of his weight on his good foot to give her a break, she felt sure. When they finally reached the ground, she could sense his reluctance to let go of the rail.

  “You stay here. I’ll bring the car over.”

  “I can make it.”

  “I wasn’t worried about your making it. I’m concerned about the kids,” she said, giving him a chance to save face. Although why she should worry about his macho pride, she didn’t know. “Brent can come with me to help clear off the windows, but I want the younger ones to stay with you.”

  His response to her ploy hung in the balance for a moment, until he finally nodded.

  “Tommy,” she called, “please come back here. And you, too, Mollie.”

  The little girl reached them first, and Lyssa spun the same story she’d just told Nick. “Watch out for these guys, okay?”

  “Okay,” Mollie agreed.

  Over the girl’s head, Lyssa saw Nick’s wry smile. He hadn’t fallen for her trick for a minute.

  Lyssa explained the situation to Brent, who shrugged and began loping toward her car. She followed, then took one quick glance over her shoulder. Both Mollie and Tommy stood with their arms folded, looking Nick up and down as if assessing his condition.

  Or checking his disposition, which didn’t seem a bit happy at the moment.

  If she’d thought more clearly and quickly, she would have insisted he wait on the covered porch, out of the storm. Of course, he would have argued. She suspected only the pain he’d felt when hopping down the steps had let her get her way. Otherwise, she would never have convinced him to stay put while she went for the car.

  She thought of other battles she had lost to him and suddenly felt some pain of her own.

  She needed to head to her car, and yet, she couldn’t help but stand there for a moment, watching him. He towered over both children, who were still checking him out. He wore a down parka and fur-lined gloves but didn’t have anything on his head. Snow studded his dark hair with white crystals.

  He began to turn, slowly and cautiously, in her direction. Before he could catch her staring at him, she hurried away, her feet nearly going out from under her in her haste to get moving.

  That would be all she’d need—to get hurt, too, and be unable to drive. Then neither of them would manage to get their group down the mountain, back to civilization and safety…where she would take Nick to the airport. Watch him board a plane. And never see him again.

  Lyssa’s heart gave a funny little twang, and she realized a simple fall in the snow could never hurt her as much as she hurt already.

  …

  If they never made it off this mountain, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying on Lyssa’s part.

  As a corporate troubleshooter, Nick recognized competence when he saw it. He had to—reading people accurately made up a good part of his job. And he had to admit, Lyssa drove her car expertly on the snow-covered lane leading from the lodge to the main road. Considering the way she had dumped him last summer, showering her with compliments wasn’t something he felt inclined to do. Still, he had to tell her the truth.

  She shrugged off his words. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”<
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  “You come up here often to ski?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He wondered about the strange note in her voice, but now wasn’t the time to pursue it. They’d lost a lot of daylight since Lyssa had had to backtrack for him and the kids.

  Who was he kidding? She’d had to return for him.

  He’d had the fleeting thought that she wouldn’t have come back if he’d been there alone. But he had shoved the thought aside, knowing it came from his own lack of control over their situation. As upset as Lyssa might be with him, she would never have abandoned him or anyone else.

  The vehicles that had left the lodge before them were long gone. At this point, the five of them might be the only people left on the mountain.

  The incline of the driveway and the snow-hail mixture that had already built up on its surface made the going treacherous. More than once, the small car had skidded toward the edge of the drive. It slid that way again now.

  And, again, little Tommy bounced forward against his seat belt and shrieked.

  “Hey, kid,” Nick said over his shoulder, “could you keep it down back there?”

  The boy was only yelping with excitement, he knew, but that didn’t make things any easier for Lyssa. He could see her gloved fingers gripping the steering wheel and her unblinking gaze focused through the windshield. The car’s headlights gleamed against swirling snow as she fought to bring all four wheels back onto the lane.

  He wanted to reach over and cover her hand with his to offer support and reassurance. But she couldn’t afford to have her concentration broken.

  For the ninety-ninth time, he cursed himself. Inside the lodge earlier, he’d been so aware of Lyssa—so unaware of his surroundings—he’d never noticed the kid’s toy truck on the floor just a yard away from his feet.

  “Miss Lyssa,” Tommy said in a tiny voice, “are we going to get home by Christmas?”

  “Of course, we are,” Mollie answered for her. “That’s three whole days away.”

  “But how is Santa Claus going to get back to the North Pole?”

  Nick looked at the kid, who sat staring at him in return, his brown eyes wide.

 

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