Countdown to First Night: Winter's HeartSnowbound at New YearA Kiss at Midnight

by Jillian Hart

  “All part of the job.” He thought of the years between them, the different paths their lives had taken. The innocence of youth felt a world away, and yet the night didn’t seem as dark as she smiled up at him.

  “Sure, part of the job. But be warned, I’ll get back at you for this. When you least expect it.”

  “You owe me nothing.” He added, “For old time’s sake.”

  “Old times?” Her forehead crinkled, her rosebud mouth puckered up as she thought. “What does that mean? Hey, do I know you?”

  “Sorry, that’s classified information, ma’am.” Boy, he thought, did those big baby blues of hers reach into a guy. He’d never felt anything as powerful since the navy SEALs broke into his makeshift prison and rescued him. He tipped his hat and stepped back into the darkness. “You have a good night, now.”

  “But, wait, I—”

  “Remember, go right, one block over.” He backed off, boots crunching in the snow. “Your grandma’s house is on the corner.” He tossed her a smile and opened his car door. He didn’t smile often and it felt good. Very good. “See you around, Shelby.”

  He kept an eye on his rearview, making sure she pulled away from the curb all right. Just to be sure, he made a pass through the neighborhood an hour later. Her bright yellow four-door sat parked and dark in Mrs. Danners’s driveway.

  At least one of them had found their way home.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “CALEB IS OUT LIKE A LIGHT.” Shelby eased the bedroom door closed in the narrow hallway, wincing when the floor squeaked under her weight. “Riley finally went down, but she may be up later to climb into bed with me.”

  “That’s why I put you right here.” Her grandmother opened the door across the hall and flipped on the light. “Your old room.”

  “It looks the same.” Like stepping back in time. The drawn, ruffled yellow curtains had been here when Shelby was a child, matching the quilted bedspread on the four-poster bed.

  “I didn’t have the heart to change anything.” Georgia Danners patted at her curlers, pink against her silver hair. “Those summers having you here were some of my best. Besides, no one’s needed this room until now. So glad to have you here, honey, for however long you want to stay.”

  “You have no idea what that means to me.” Her granny had buried a husband over twenty years ago and her only child was Shelby’s dad. She ran a hand over the carving on the bedpost. “Being here is a sanctuary. We had nowhere else to go. Just when I thought I would have to lower my pride and accept assistance, you stepped in.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do much.” Georgia knelt to click the electric-blanket control on high. “I made a call or two. You’re the one came all this way and brought those two beautiful children with you. My great-grandchildren. I haven’t seen them since my trip down in July. They’ve gotten big.”

  “Bigger every day. I swear those two grow like weeds.” And she wanted them to grow up happy. That’s all she wanted. Times had got tough, but her father raised her to take the good with the bad and when the bad hit, to battle it down. “Just so we’re clear, Granny. I owe you, big-time. Where would I be right now if it wasn’t for you?”

  “Not in Colorado, that’s for sure.” Georgia plumped a pillow, ducking to hide what looked like a tear in her eye. “Now, settle in, get comfortable. I sure hope you’ll be staying awhile. I want lots of time to spend with my great-grandkids.”

  “That would be nice.” It must get lonely rattling around alone in this big old house, living with memories of people long gone. “Stop, you don’t need to turn down my bed. No fussing over me, got it?”

  “Can’t help myself, I guess.”

  She hugged her grandmother, thinking of the summers she’d spent here before her mother died and they’d moved from Denver to Houston. “Every memory I have in this house is a good one. Being here with you feels like a turn in the road, Granny. Like my luck just has to change.”

  “I know it, sweet pea.” Georgia pinched her cheek gently. “Now, let me fix some tea. You must be wound up after that long drive. A cup of chamomile will be just the thing to help you relax and fall asleep.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Holler if you need anything.”

  Life was a cycle of good times and bad. Shelby had to believe better times were coming.

  She set her cell phone on the nightstand so she’d remember to charge it. It was six years old and the battery was on its last leg. The framed photo next to the clock radio caught her attention. Her picture.

  She recognized herself as that nine-year-old. Blond pigtails trailed over her skinny shoulders, her nose and cheeks had freckled from the sun. She straddled that old red bike Granny kept in the garage. Two other kids near the same age grinned with her at the camera. Talia from down the street and the boy who’d lived next door with his grandmother.

  She remembered that boy. She studied his dark blue eyes. His dark shock of hair sure looked familiar. She took a closer look.

  It couldn’t be. What were the chances? Pulling herself away from the photo, she padded quietly past the closed bedroom door where her kids slept. That handsome deputy and his rumbling, smoky voice. She should have recognized his smile. Who would have thought he’d still be living in this small mountain town, the first boy who’d ever stolen her heart?

  “Shelby, I’m just puttin’ on the kettle now,” Georgia called down the hallway from the kitchen. “Should be ready by the time you’re done.”

  “I’ll be quick.” She plucked her winter coat off the coat tree by the front door and shrugged into it. “You wouldn’t happen to have any oatmeal cookies?”

  “I made ’em just for you.”

  “Lucky me.” She burst out into the icy night. The air burned her lungs as she hurried down the snow-covered porch steps. She’d just bring in a few vital suitcases—things they would need for morning—and leave the rest for tomorrow. In the silence, she heard a footstep on concrete.

  Uh, what was that? And why hadn’t she noticed exactly how dark it was out here? Something moved just out of sight of the porch light. The falling snow made it even harder to see. She caught a glimpse of a man’s shoulder, his arm, and took a step back. Exactly how much crime did Snow Falls have these days? Not that she felt in peril. No, that wasn’t the reason her heart jammed up in her throat.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Officer Handsome lingered at the edge of the light’s glow. “Just on my way home.”

  “Deputy Winters. Your shift is done for the night?”

  “Yep. Work two to ten. Not a bad shift.”

  “And you live nearby?” She tugged gloves out of her coat pocket, fitting her hands into them. “Or do you usually wander around in other people’s yards at night?”

  “That’s my cruiser right there.” He nodded behind him to the open detached garage of an old-fashioned two-story. Her grandmother’s neighbor. “I was heading in when I spotted you. Didn’t think to tell you that spare won’t take you far.”

  “Don’t I know it. It’s as bald as an egg.” She squinted through the darkness at him. “Guess I’ll need a new tire.”

  “No kidding.” He hesitated, not coming closer. “If you get over to Gleason’s Service and Tires, mention my name and he’ll give you a good price.”

  “Thank you, Ronan.” Saying his name felt good. He’d been the new boy to town, a quiet but steadfast companion one summer long ago. “Didn’t think I’d remember, did you? But it came to me.”

  “Surprising. I’m not the boy I used to be.” He quirked one eyebrow, smiling. “It’s too bad, too. Didn’t live up to my potential.”

  “You still have a self-deprecating sense of humor, I see. What else is the same, Deputy?” She leaned against the hood of her car. “Still living with your grandmother?”

  His smile faded. “She pass
ed away.”

  She felt like an idiot. “Oh, Ronan, I’m sorry. I just didn’t know. Granny didn’t say a word.”

  “She wouldn’t. She and my gran were close. Hard to talk about.”

  Still, Granny should have said something. “Your grandmother raised you. That had to have been a hard loss.”

  “It was,” he admitted. “She’d been sick for a long while, so I know she’s in a better place. Out of pain. With my grandfather.”

  Ronan might think he was hiding his feelings, but she felt them as if they were her own. Strange how twenty years evaporated as if they’d never came between them.

  Maybe once kindred spirits, always kindred spirits. How about that. Shelby laid her hand on his arm. “How long has she been gone?”

  “Three years.” In the half light she saw him wince. “She fought it for a year, then she was gone. She left me her house, likely because of all my cousins, I was the one she felt sorry for.”

  “Felt sorry for you? Maybe it’s because you were the one she raised herself. Maybe she did it because she loved you.”

  “Maybe.” His lips curved upward.

  “The house is dark.” She pointed in the direction of his windows instead of looking a second longer at his mouth. She removed her other hand from his sleeve and took a step back. “It must mean no wife and kids. No one waiting at home for you.”

  “A bachelor at thirty. Only one girl ever got close to my heart, and she was you.”

  “Right. I forgot how funny you could be.”

  “I try.” Not that he’d been kidding. “Let me help you unload your car. That is why you’re out here, right?”

  “And why you came over. To help.” Realization crossed her face, and her hand landed on his sleeve again. A squeeze of gentle appreciation.

  If only she knew what that did to him. His chest ached with emotions he didn’t want to feel, emotions he never thought he could feel again.

  “Might as well make myself useful.” He broke the connection as fast as he could. “You’ve had a long drive, you’ve got to be tired.”

  “And you just finished working. You must be tired, too.” Her chin went up defiantly. “I can do it myself.”

  “What was I thinking?” He held out his hand for her keys. “That you would have outgrown your stubbornness?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Deputy.” She unlocked the back passenger door. The light on her slender shoulders accentuated her graceful movements. “I’ve honed my stubbornness over the years. I’m afraid it’s become gargantuan.”

  “Is that so?” He opened the car door before she could. This close, he could see the faint freckles across her dainty nose and the threads of vibrant blue in her irises. Summery eyes, he used to think of them. He swiped a snowflake off her satin cheek, holding his feelings still. “I’m sorry you’ve had to do so much on your own. Let me get this for you.”

  “Tempting.” Exhaustion lined her face. She blinked up at him. “I have a no-leaning policy.”

  “A what?” Leave it to Shelby to confuse him. She’d dazzled, intrigued and puzzled him as a ten-year-old. No surprise she could do the same to him as a grown man.

  “I don’t lean on anyone. It’s easier that way.” She plucked a small suitcase off the floor behind the driver’s seat. “I do what needs to be done and I get through it. It’s worked so far.”

  “Seems like you’ve come on some hard times.” He gentled his voice. “Things might be easier if you let someone help you every now and then.”

  She hid a lot behind her pride as she raised her chin. “Last year we lost our home. A little house Paul and I bought right after our honeymoon.”

  “That had to be rough.” He covered her hand, the one gripping the suitcase. The news didn’t surprise him. “You’re here because you have nowhere else to go.”

  She nodded, her hair bobbing, catching snowflakes. “We couldn’t pay our January rent, so here we are. It’s hardest on the kids. I’m trying to turn it into an adventure. A trip to see Granny, and where we go after that is a surprise. An adventure.”

  “You’re not staying?” Thank God. This woman was like a punch to the gut. He’d taken enough hits.

  “No way can I impose on Granny a second longer than I have to. I’ve been applying for jobs like a madwoman. Not that receptionists are in great demand, but I’m good at what I do. In the meantime, I take whatever I can get. Minimum wage, but it adds up.” She didn’t seem to realize he’d finessed the suitcase out of her tight grip as she leaned in to grab a little pink suitcase from the backseat. “Why am I telling you all this? You have an effect on me, Ronan Winters. You always have. I open up to you like to no one.”

  All sorts of questions filled his head, questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. She knelt to grab a backpack off the car floor. “It’s going to be nice having you for a neighbor again, Ronan.”

  “Likewise.” He stole the keys from her. “Now, what do you want from the trunk?”

  “Just the big navy suitcase with the broken handle.”

  She closed the car door absently, hardly aware of the cold wind driving through her coat. He paced out of the porch light, a shadowed figure with mile-wide shoulders. Yes, the boy she’d loved as a child had grown up to be a fine man. “Now I owe you twice.”

  He hiked up the trunk lid, disappearing from view. “This isn’t the first time you’ve owed me big-time. Remember how you used to make it up to me?”

  “Sure, but isn’t it a little cold for that?”

  “It’s never too cold for that.” He snapped the trunk shut and moved through the shadows, a shadow himself—a dark curve of face, the faint line of his arm and the blur of his boots in the snow. “Believe me, I’m going to expect payback.”

  “Some things never change.” She met him at the foot of the stairs where the light wrapped them in a golden glow. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

  “Be hard not to.” He lifted the heavy suitcase easily, setting it at the top of the steps as if it weighed nothing. “So, where is this temporary job of yours?”

  “At your aunt’s bakery. They needed extra hands for the New Year’s Eve celebration.”

  “For First Night?”

  “Yes, and Granny talked them into hiring me.”

  “I’m guessing she didn’t have to talk too hard. I’ll put in a good word for you, too. Make sure Aunt Jules goes easy on you.”

  “Don’t kid me, Deputy. I know what you’re up to. You want me to owe you one more time.”

  “Yep, that’s it. Three times now. Your debt to me is piling up. You know what that means.”

  “I do, and I’ll come looking for you tomorrow. Consider it fair warning.” She glanced toward the light in the window and thought of the children she needed to check on and Granny waiting to share a pot of tea. She didn’t know why she went up on tiptoe to kiss Ronan’s cheek. Slightly rough from his day’s growth, he smelled like snow and warm man and shampoo. Nice. Her palms were damp as she stepped away.

  “What was that for?” His dark fathomless eyes met hers.

  “For old times’ sake.” She tightened her hold on the backpack and small suitcase so she wouldn’t drop them on her way up the steps. “Nostalgia. Auld lang syne. All that.”

  “And back at ya.” She heard what sounded like tenderness in his gruff voice. The wind rose just enough to hide anything else he might say. Two steps took him out of the fall of light and he was only a shadow, then darkness, then nothing at all.

  Yet her heart continued to feel his presence after she’d hauled in the suitcases and closed the door.

  Granny peeked into the hallway in her fuzzy yellow robe and matching slippers. “The tea is ready. Come warm up. You look like an icicle.”

  “I feel like one.” She shook her head, as if that would scatter her thoug
hts enough to get Ronan Winters out of them. No such luck.

  After all the hardship of the past few years, it heartened her to be reminded of that simpler time.

  She shrugged out of her coat, hopeful in a way she hadn’t been in a long while.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I GOT A TEXT FROM Ronan this morning,” Jules Barker commented from behind the counter of Sweet Delights. The bakery smelled like fresh cinnamon from the rolls Shelby was icing and chocolate from the cupcakes Jules rescued from the oven. “He told me you two went way back. I didn’t know you hung out with him.”

  “One summer when I was nine. Ancient times.” Shelby dipped the pastry brush into the sugar icing and painted it across the still-warm rolls. “I thought you knew.”

  “No, that was about the time I was finishing my master’s at the University of Washington.” Jules eased the pans onto the prep table to cool. “Business management. I worked in Seattle for a while managing an ad agency. That all changed when I came home one Christmas and ran into someone I used to go to school with.”

  “Ah, so the love bug bit?”

  “One big love bug. The biggest.” Jules closed the oven door with her slender hip. Her dark hair was swept back in a tight, high ponytail, the blue bandanna she wore accentuated her dark blue eyes—the exact shade of Ronan’s.

  Ronan. Her heart skipped a beat. Probably from mortification. She really had kissed him. A blush warmed her face. What must he be thinking of her?

  “Dan used to be this quiet, serious kid in high school. You’d hardly notice him.” Jules tossed the oven mitts on the counter and paused to peer out the door to the shop area. Faint sounds of shoppers, the ka-ching of the cash registers and the whir of the espresso machine filtered through to the kitchen. Jules nodded to herself. “He came in to pick up his mom’s Christmas-cookie order. She’d been too busy with his sick dad to do her holiday baking. The first moment I set eyes on him, it was like being struck by a meteor. Ka-boom.”

  “Been there. Done that.” Wasn’t looking to do it again. “That’s how it was for Paul and me. Love at first sight. It’s too strong to fight.”