Snowed In At Snowflake B&B: The perfect heartwarming Christmas romance to curl up with in 2020!

by Kellie Hailes

  ‘Skating weather?’ Reuben took a step back, his face screwed up like she’d just told him she thought it was a good idea to get naked and roll about in the snow. ‘Lucky we don’t have skates then, isn’t it? Or a rink.’

  ‘But we do. And we do.’ Sam punctuated each affirmation with a nod of her head. A peaceful way of telling Reuben that this was happening whether he liked it or not.

  He continued to look at her like she had a bug on her face.

  ‘Fine, we kind of do. Last I remember, skates were stored in the stables, and we have the pond out back. It’ll be well and truly frozen over. All we have to do is clear the snow, throw some water over it to get it to set in a nice flattish way, and it’ll be fine for a bunch of non-competitive types who really ought to be getting out the house to have a blat on.’

  ‘Blat? Blat would insinuate speed of some sort.’

  ‘Fine,’ Sam huffed. ‘A shuffle. We’d be shuffling.’ She mimicked a slow and wobbling skate, complete with pinwheeling arms that steadied herself before continuing to skate.

  Reuben shook his head, his repulsion at the idea replaced with a roll of eyes and a hint of a smile.

  ‘So who will be doing the shovelling? I don’t want to ask Flo and Matilda—’

  Sam went to tell him off for his blatant sexism, but stopped as Reuben held his hand up, indicating he wasn’t finished talking.

  ‘They insisted on helping you with the dishes and clean-up last night. They’ve done their bit – more than their bit considering they’re guests. And I wouldn’t want to put it on Harry in case he put his back out, and Stefan does not seem the type to want to do outdoor work.’

  ‘He might surprise you?’ Sam knew the answer to that the moment the words spilled from her mouth.

  As did Reuben if his raised brows were anything to go by.

  ‘You’re right. He wouldn’t. But I can. I’ve helped do it in the past.’ Sam half-walked half-skipped over to the boot room, threw on her coat, scarf and hat, pulled on her boots, then grabbed Reuben’s old-fashioned but-oh-so-him black, woollen peacoat and threw it in his direction. ‘There you go. Pop that on. Get some appropriate footwear and meet me out by the pond.’

  Without waiting for him to throw an excuse her way she headed out into the great white yonder and shut the door behind her.

  She closed her eyes as the sun hit her face and she breathed in the crisp, fresh air. Some people said sunshine washed away the stains, made things clean again, but to Sam’s mind a good winter snowstorm did it better. The lawn and gardens were unblemished. Even the animal life hadn’t imprinted it with their marks. Before her was a brand-new story with new chances and new opportunities, just waiting to be taken.

  Sam placed her hands on her hips and promised herself that she wouldn’t let the opportunity being presented to her go.

  By the end of the guests’ stay she would have shown Reuben she was worth keeping on. That she was part of Snowflake B&B.

  Determination saw her power forward through the snow towards the shed next to the stables where the garden tools were kept. She pushed the old, sticky door open with a press of hand and shove of shoulder. Goose bumps prickled up beneath her warm clothing as a whoosh of cold air greeted her. A sign not to get overexcited about the chance of permanent work at Snowflake B&B? An omen that her silly little burgeoning crush on Reuben was a Very. Bad. Idea?

  Sam let out a ‘pfft’ of self-disgust. She’d only just promised herself she’d embrace opportunities and take a chance on life, and here she was not a few minutes later already looking for reasons to hide, to back off, to keep the status quo.

  She rifled through the tools until she found the two flat square spades then hefted them out and dragged them behind her until she reached the pond, where a rugged-up Reuben was jogging on the spot and rubbing his gloved hands to keep warm. Curls of grey hair peeked out from beneath his navy beanie and two pink spots shone high on his cheeks. The crazy combination of old-man hair and youthful-lad cheeks tickled Sam. Made her want to touch a lock of his hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. To place the palms of her hands against his cheeks to see if they held as much heat as the colour indicated.

  ‘Here you go. Get shovelling.’ She thrust the tool at him, then shoved hers into the snow, tossing it to the side until she’d reach the layer of ice.

  Clear and blue. Perfect. Or as perfect as you could get if you didn’t have an auger on hand to measure the ice’s thickness.

  ‘Is it safe?’ Reuben crouched down and rapped the ice with his cushioned knuckles. ‘Will we fall in?’

  ‘Without a measuring tool there’s no guarantee, but I was taught by Bob that if the ice is a clear blue you should be fine. If it were white, I’d be less inclined to give the go-ahead, especially with six of us on here.’

  Reuben pushed himself up. ‘Well then, that’s a no from me. I’m not flailing around on this pond here if the guarantee is no guarantee at all. And I can’t be letting my guests skate on it either. What if they fall in or hurt themselves? They could sue me and I can’t afford for that to happen.’

  Sam sunk her top teeth into her lower lip and tried to figure out a solution. Reuben had a point. Even if he had enough money to buy the B&B it didn’t make him a gazillionaire. And Stefan did seem the type to sue if he even got a bruise on his bum, let alone pneumonia from falling into an icy pond. Still, there was that thing called personal responsibility and freedom of choice…

  ‘What if we got them to sign something? Or say a vow in front of each other? That way if anything happens there’s proof it was their choice to come on the pond, and they did it knowing the risks?’

  ‘It seems too simple…’ Reuben shook his head. ‘I can’t have anything go wrong. It would be the…’ He trailed off and the troubled look that haunted his eyes every now and then returned.

  There was something he wasn’t telling her – possibly a lot of things he wasn’t telling her – Sam realised. Though despite only knowing each other for a few days, in a strange way she felt like in those few days they’d reached a silent understanding of each other. Seen each other’s flaws and worked with each other to make up for them, to smooth over difficult situations.

  But was this a difficult situation? Sam didn’t think so, especially when there was one easy way to find out.

  Before she had a chance to overthink her decision she stepped out onto the pond. Took another step. Another.

  Waited for a splintering. A crack. A wobble underneath her feet.

  The pond remained stable underfoot.

  Feeling brave, or at the very least, stupidly cocky, she took another few paces, intent on walking from one side of the pond to the other.

  ‘What are you doing? Are you barmy?’

  She ignored the panic in Reuben’s voice. Refused to let it fuel the nerves skittering through her veins.

  ‘What if you fall in? What if I can’t get to you? What if you come down with hypothermia? Or drown? Or something just as bad?’

  ‘Then I’ll sue you.’ Sam threw the joke over her shoulder and continued forward.

  ‘You wouldn’t. Please say you wouldn’t.’

  How was it possible that Reuben sounded more scared than she when she was the one crossing a pond that may or may not be solid ice? Did that mean his financial situation was less stable than… well… this pond? Was he in dire straits? She made a note to step up her progress with the website beyond scratching down a few ideas, and look at the cost of advertising on social media sites. Even if things weren’t as catastrophically bad as Reuben’s tone would suggest, it wouldn’t hurt to give the business a marketing boost sooner rather than later. And a few shots of guests skating on a pond in a winter wonderland could go a long way to helping pique people’s interest in staying at Snowflake B&B.

  Sam shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t sue, you or anyone else for that matter. I’m not the kind of person to blame another for my own stupidity.’

  ‘So you acknowledge what you’re doing right
now is stupid?’

  Sam reached the far edge of the pond and let out a long sigh of relief. The air plumed in front of her.

  ‘I’m pretty sure it’s safe.’

  ‘And I’m pretty sure you’re crazy.’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Maybe. But my craziness is going to give our guests a lot of fun, memories to remember, all that sort of thing. But, yeah, I’d get them to promise not to sue you if anything goes wrong, and only let two on at a time. Just in case.’

  She turned to see Reuben, his face white as a sheet, his gloved hands clasped tightly to his chest.

  ‘Were you really that worried about me?’

  ‘More like worried about what I’d do if you fell in. I’m not much of a swimmer.’

  ‘Well, lucky for you the pond’s only a few feet deep. So shall we continue shovelling?’

  Reuben picked up his spade and skimmed it across and under the snow in answer, and tossed is aside like it was light as a feather rather than wet and heavy.

  Were there muscles under those chunky jumpers he was so fond of? Sam shook her head and focused on the job at hand. Reuben’s muscles were out of bounds. Just as his financial situation was.

  Despite herself, she glanced sideways and watched as more snow was flung to the side with wild abandon.

  Out of bounds. None of her business. But a girl couldn’t be blamed for being a touch curious…

  A good hour and a half later – with a drink stop in between thanks to Matilda popping out with mugs of hot chocolate for them – the job was done.

  ‘What a team we make.’ Reuben raised his hand for a high five and Sam returned it with enthusiasm.

  The pond was clear, the skating surface was… well… not the smoothest, but it would do the trick.

  ‘Now we need skates. Shall we head to the stables and search them out?’ Sam pulled her beanie off as she stomped through the snow. All that physical work combined with the mild sun on her back had seen her warm up nicely.

  ‘I know you said you spent a lot of time here, but I get the feeling you know this place as well as I know the back of my own hand.’ Reuben easily kept pace with her, even though he’d taken charge of both the spades, which he’d slung over his shoulders.

  ‘That’s because I do.’ Sam left her answer there. She knew she was being obtuse, but it was enough that Reuben knew she and her brothers had spent a lot of time here; he didn’t need to know how much time or the reason why.

  They entered the stable and Sam made a beeline for the far stall where she’d last seen the skates.

  ‘I can’t wait for summer to open this place up and air it out.’ Reuben’s sniff filled the silence. ‘So musty. I should probably move my files and paperwork and whatnot out of here.’

  ‘They’re not in the house?’ Sam entered the stall and saw a tower of boxes stacked next to the skates. ‘Why’d you leave your papers out here? There’s probably a family of mice making themselves at home in amongst all that.’

  ‘At least it’s good for something.’

  There was no missing the bitterness in Reuben’s voice. Whatever was in those boxes held no joy for him. Were there out of necessity.

  Sam side-eyed them as she began to sort through the skates, efficiently pairing them up and setting them by the door. Reuben had disappeared to who knows where. Did seeing the boxes cause him that much pain it hurt to even look at them?

  She reached for the last of the skates that was sitting by the boxes and tugged. It didn’t give. She ducked down and saw that the back of the blade was caught under the bottom box.

  She gave it a good yank, freeing it while sending herself tumbling back, along with the top box that had been balanced precariously on top of the others, sending its papers scattering across the floor.

  ‘Oh bugger,’ she muttered, debating whether or not to call Reuben in to clean up the mess.

  If being near the boxes had upset him, would seeing the contents really get to him? Make him sad, or worse, angry?

  Better to tidy up the mess herself, she decided, than deal with an upset man.

  She turned the box over and began placing the papers carefully back in, trying to keep them orderly so that if Reuben needed to go through them one day he wouldn’t be dealing with a jumble of information.

  Sam did her best to ignore what was printed on the papers, but it was hard to miss words like ‘lawyers’ and ‘divorce’ and ‘division of assets’ and amounts of money that would take her decades to earn.

  Despite herself, she did a quick calculation and realised that whatever Reuben had been left with had been funnelled into buying the B&B, leaving not much else. Which meant he had to live on whatever his books made, and whatever came in from the B&B, which Sam knew couldn’t have been much since he’d only just opened it recently, and business had hardly been booming.

  She dumped the papers into the box and picked up the last few stapled-together pages. She scanned the front page – knowing she shouldn’t, but after what she’d just seen she was concerned that Reuben’s talk about being sued weren’t coming from a general dislike of dealing with lawyers and paying money unnecessarily, but from a place of worry that if he were sued he’d lose everything.

  It didn’t take long to understand what she was seeing. A contract. From his publisher. With a due date. Three weeks away.

  Sam wasn’t a writer and knew nothing about the publishing industry, but she was pretty sure that at this point in time Reuben ought to be chained to his computer, not shovelling snow or swanning about in the stables.

  Footsteps met her ears. She quickly stuffed the contract back in the box, then pushed herself up, skates in hand, instinct telling her it was better to pretend she’d not seen a thing.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this.’ Reuben strode into the stall, bundled up the rest of the skates and strode back out. ‘I can’t believe you managed to talk me into it. Honestly, Sam, you’re either going to be the death or the making of me.’

  ‘Making of you, of course.’ Sam kept her voice light and bright as she trailed after Reuben. Her tone at odds with the uncertainty that tightened her gut.

  Was Reuben in financial trouble? On the verge of it? And why wasn’t he holed up in his study writing with a deadline so close? Was all this talk of writing a book just that? A load of talk, and no action? Or was he writing at night when she and the guests were asleep?

  Fear clawed at her heart as the ramifications of Reuben’s potential failure hit her. No money meant no Snowflake B&B, which meant no chance of her staying close to the place she loved most in the world.

  No, not on her watch. Reuben might not be open to talking about his problems, but who needed talk when action could change everything?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Squeals and whoops and the odd Stefan-sounding expletive met Reuben’s ears as he followed Sam towards the pond, mugs of tea in hand for the skating couple.

  ‘Finally.’ Stefan’s face on seeming them was the picture of relief. ‘I swear I’ve nearly broken my ankle ten times. Get me off this death wish.’

  Flo laughed as she took a final lap of the pond, gliding in a way that made it appear effortless.

  Reuben wasn’t so sure. He’d only skated once before in his life on a school trip, more moons ago than he cared to count, and while he’d managed to stand up straight for the entire, torturous time, he’d not been able to get his limbs to figure out how to shush-shush-shush along the ice in the elegant way that Flo was currently demonstrating.

  ‘Thirsty?’ Sam addressed Flo as she alighted and sank down onto the waterproof-backed picnic blanket that Sam had found in the stables, and thoughtfully set down so everyone could easily change in and out of their footwear without getting their bottoms wet.

  ‘Very.’ Flo yanked off her skates and pulled on her boots then took the mug from Sam. ‘It’s been a while since I skated. It’s reminded me of muscles I’d long forgotten I had.’

  Stefan dropped down beside Flo and pulled off his own skates
. ‘Are you saying I don’t give you enough of a workout?’

  Reuben looked away as the two giggled then kissed. He caught Sam’s eye and could see she was thinking what he was thinking: the sitting room couch was definitely out of bounds. Now and forever. Flo and Stefan may be an odd pairing, but it appeared they made up for their differences in other areas.

  ‘Tea?’ He offered the mug to Stefan once the kissing sounds had ceased.

  ‘No hot chocolate with marshmallows?’ Stefan wrinkled his nose.

  ‘We ran out of marshmallows to go with the hot chocolate and didn’t want to deprive you of that magnificent combination by only serving you hot chocolate, but if you’d like to ski to the local village to buy some more, you’re more than welcome.’ Sam smiled sweetly at Stefan. ‘I would, but I’ve dinner to make, and Reuben’s next job after this is to go over my ideas for the B&B’s new website. Isn’t that right, Reuben?’

  If it were possible to appreciate anyone more in that moment, Reuben didn’t think he could. Once again Sam had stepped in and made his life easy.

  As she did.

  All the time.

  From the moment she’d turned up on his doorstep.

  His heartbeat seized as it hit him – he was making the same mistakes all over again. Letting a woman do everything for him. Appreciating her help, when really he ought to be putting in just as much effort. If not more, since this was his home and business.

  ‘That I am, and then I’m revamping the booking calendar, and I’ve got to give the kitchen sink a good scrub,’ he added, deciding cleaning the kitchen was a good starting point to helping Sam out more. ‘So if you’re still wanting marshmallows I’m sure I can fit pulling out skis into my schedule for you so you can…’

  ‘It’s all good, tea is fine.’ Stefan set his mug down, then got up, offered his hand to Flo and pulled her up with such enthusiasm, they crashed together, taking the opportunity to wrap their arms around each other and hug in that intimate way couples still in love did.