Spring in Snow Valley

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  I was suddenly aware of too many pairs of eyes on me. “But when am I supposed to start a school?” I asked.

  “Sophie stipulated no time frame or deadline. When you deem it is right. Perhaps after your career on stage is over?” The lawyer gave a small chuckle. “I have no idea about matters such as the arts.”

  “I—I am completely bowled over,” I said softly. “It’s true that Aunt Sophie always attended Madame Dubois’ recitals, but I always thought it was because she tried to support every Snow Valley event, no matter how large or small—or the fact that I was her cousin’s daughter.”

  “I’m sure it’s all wrapped up together,” Sophie’s daughter told me, squeezing my arm. “I’m so pleased. I expected nothing less from my mother. And Snow Valley will carry on its tradition of inspiring young people in music and dance and art.”

  “I’m grateful and overwhelmed,” I told her. “And I’ve never inherited anything before in my life.”

  Small sounds of laughter broke out around the room and, after saying my goodbye’s, I found myself standing on the damp sidewalk, staring unseeing at a world that all at once had changed and yet stayed the same, too.

  A breeze came over the ridge of hills and I tightened my scarf around my neck.

  Alonso suddenly stepped up to me. “Been keeping warm in the Dove’s grocery waiting for you. Can we walk back to your house from here?”

  “It’s a little ways, but we can walk until it’s unbearable. Once the sun sets the temperatures will drop into the teens.”

  We took off at a brisk pace and the cold afternoon began to clear my head. Walking also worked off my pent-up energy and shock.

  Alonso took my hand and tucked it into his coat. It was a personal, romantic gesture but I was so cold I allowed it this once. And, for once, he didn’t prattle on, oblivious to my mood.

  “I heard rumors of an Easter Ball tonight,” he finally spoke up, in a voice that was remarkably Spanish, French, and Italian accent-free.

  “I like your real voice, Alonso,” I told him.

  “You do? So there’s hope for us?”

  “Um, no, I don’t think so. But you are a good dance partner and I feel safe when we do the lifts, and that says a lot.”

  He grinned. “I’ll take it for now. How about we go show off some dance moves tonight? I’m starting to understand Snow Valley. This town does holidays big.”

  “Very astute. Especially Christmas. You’ve never seen anything like it. Tree lighting, sleigh rides, Santa, Christmas Bazaar, Choir programs, you name it.” I didn’t mention the fall I’d taken a year ago during my Nutcracker solo dance. And James’ embarrassing rescue on the stage in front of the entire town.

  “Which means you come from a party town.”

  I laughed. “I guess you could call it that.”

  “I knew it all along, my pretty woman,” Alonso said, bringing me to him in a hug. “Dancing and partying are in your blood.”

  I stepped to the side when we neared the church grounds, aware of lights in the windows of James apartment in the back, and a second car in his driveway. “In a manner of speaking.”

  I was preoccupied the rest of the walk home and when we came through the front door my entire family was standing there waiting with baited breath.

  I spilled the news of Aunt Sophie’s generosity.

  “An inheritance,” Sam breathed. His eyes were bigger than Mom’s teacup saucers. “You’re rich!”

  “Hardly,” I told him. “Two thousand will barely get you first month’s rent and deposit on an apartment in New Orleans these days.”

  “But it would put down rent on a hall for when you want to turn your skills to teaching,” My mother said with practicality.

  “Meanwhile,” Dad interjected. “Save it, invest it, and your tiny nest egg can potentially become more much more than two months’ rent in several years from now.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “So now I need to figure out if I have a dress for the ball tonight. What’s in my closet, Mom?”

  “Oh, the dance will make a lovely activity for you young people tonight. Frankly, I’d forgotten about the Easter ball, even though it happens every year. Your father refuses to waltz.”

  “But I can do a mean jitterbug in the living room,” he said in protest.

  “That’s debatable.” My mother said under her breath as she motioned to Alonso to follow her in true Mom style so he could change in the hall bathroom.

  I set my overnight bag on my old bed with a thud, and then sank into the mattress. I was going to the Easter Ball. Which struck me as kind of funny. The sort of dance the teenagers got into, although it was actually a family dance for the whole town.

  And . . . I had two men I’d be trying to appease. Maybe I’d just hang out at the refreshment table and inhale a few hundred calories.

  I was both nervous and terrified to see James in person. I rubbed at my fourth finger on my left hand, still feeling the imprint of the diamond he’d slipped on that finger three weeks ago exactly.

  I’d given the ring up freely. I had no right to feel cheated. It was my own doing.

  But my heart felt like it was bursting with a sorrow I couldn’t explain.

  Chapter 13

  After a quick power nap so I wouldn’t fall asleep on the dance floor—I swore I’d never take another red-eye flight again—I took a shower, taking turns with Sam and Alonso in the bathroom as we all got ready for the dance, although I sneaked into the master bath to finish my hair and makeup.

  Mom had made a pan of chicken enchiladas and a salad so we all ate in turns, going in and out of the kitchen, Dad entertaining Alonso with stories about Snow Valley that were outlandish and completely untrue.

  Alonso ate up the tall tales, hook, line and sinker.

  “Dad’s taking you fishing,” I said when I came downstairs to borrow Mom’s black pumps since I’d forgotten to pack a pair of dressy shoes.

  “We’re going fishing?” Alonso said. “Sounds great. Is there a Snow Valley lake around here?”

  Dad gave me a look that told me to shut up. “Um, the lake is closed right now,” he told Alonso. As if you could pack up an entire lake and cart it away like a traveling carnival.

  I spit out my Dr Pepper and grabbed a bunch of napkins.

  “What’s so funny?” Alonso demanded.

  “Nothing, nothing,” I said, trying to look innocent. “But I do have to admit that you are entertaining in your own way, Alonso.”

  The man beamed happily.

  An hour later, the three of us were parking at the Snow Valley Cultural Center.

  “You look sharp, Sam,” I told my brother. He was wearing one of Dad’s suits with a crisp red tie and a rakish black hat.

  “Thanks, sis.”

  Alonso pouted and I added, “You look nice, too. Although how you happened to pack a dress shirt and leather jacket without knowing the local itinerary is a miracle.”

  “I’m hoping for a miracle tonight, ma cherie.”

  “Well, keep praying,” I advised him.

  “You are such a coquette, Jessica.”

  I smiled prettily. “One thing I’ve never been known for is sweet, but I’ll take the coquette part.”

  The hall was decorated with pink streamers and snowy white tablecloths in celebration of the Easter season. Bowls of Easter chocolates and eggs made up the centerpieces for those who wanted a place to sit and watch. The Ladies of Snow Valley—not an actual organization—but it was how I’d always referred to the stalwart moms and grandmas who catered church dinners, baby showers, and funerals from their very own kitchens—had brought oodles of food. The long tables groaned with potluck main dishes, salads, and desserts by the dozen.

  “We shouldn’t have bothered to eat dinner beforehand,” I said.

  Sam’s eyes lit up. “Food!” And he was gone. As if he hadn’t eaten in a week, rather than an hour.

  The DJ did a great a mix of current popular songs for
the high school crowd—where Sam took off, not wanting to be seen with his sister and Alonso—and a few oldies thrown in for those who wanted to waltz and foxtrot. A couple of swings, then a sensuous Latin number.

  “Ah, we get to reprise the rumba, mi chica,” Alonso said, pulling me close just as I spotted James across the hall.

  My heart stuttered inside my chest at the sight of him in deep conversation with Mr. Buster Write, Sophie Morris’ long-time neighbor. Probably analyzing the funeral or whatever Mr. Write wanted to hash out. Alonso swung me about, tightening his grip on my hand. When I glanced back again Buster had disappeared, but a young woman with long blonde hair was now chatting James up. They were laughing about something and my heart twisted into a pretzel.

  Alonso did a new move with a spin and I stepped on his toes. “Careful, my sweet, you’re not paying attention to me.”

  “Uh, sorry,” I muttered. “I guess we need to be careful we don’t sprain an ankle on this slippery floor with opening night less than two weeks away.”

  “Maddox would never forgive us.”

  “Although Lily and Matt, our seconds, wouldn’t mind for a second. In fact, they’re probably secretly rooting for us to have an accident so they can steal a few moments of fame, such as it is.”

  “So sardonic, my love.” Alonso pulled me closer and his lips brushed against my forehead.

  “Hey, buddy, cut it out.”

  He swept me into a corner so we were on the far outskirts of the dancers rather than in the middle. “I can’t help it if I’m interested in you, Jess,” Alonso told me. “I know we tease each other and I call you all sorts of endearments, but my feelings are real. Can we stop being buddies and go out on a real date?”

  His confession stopped me in my tracks. My arms dropped to my sides, but Alonso’s hand stayed on my elbow and his head bent low over mine so we could hear each other speak. “But—but you’re such a flirt, Alonso. With everyone. How can I take you seriously?”

  “It’s the only way I know how to get attention. That’s why I came to Snow Valley. I didn’t want to lose you to your Pastor James without telling you how I feel. I think I’m in love with you.”

  “Surely not—” I stopped, realizing that Alonso was wasn’t joking any longer. “This is—I don’t know what to say.”

  “Please just say you’ll give me a chance before you run off with anyone else.”

  “You mean James Douglas.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not so sure James wants to run off with you anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Take a look, my pet.” Alonso said with a bluntness I’d never heard before.

  He turned my shoulders so that I was staring out over the crowded hall. Past the couples. Past the rambunctious youngsters and their parents who were wrangling them. Past the teenagers dancing in groups and goofing off.

  James wasn’t standing by the punch bowl any longer. He and that blonde woman had sat down together and were still talking as if they’re lives depended on what they were saying to each other. “Your pastor is deep in conversation with another woman. And I doubt if he’d conduct church business or listen to confession at a social event.”

  “So what if he’s talking to one of the members of his congregation? James does that for a living.”

  “But if I’m not mistaken, that woman is madly in love with him.”

  “You’re crazy,” I said, lightly punching him in the arm. “You’re just making that up to irritate me.”

  “I can see it all over her face and in her body language. And I’m a pretty good judge of body language.”

  “This is silly. It doesn’t mean James’ feelings have changed. He proposed barely three weeks ago.”

  “And got turned down, may I remind you? James is a pastor. He’s the kind of man that wants a woman by his side, through thick and thin, bad times, good times. At home and helping him with the flock while he’s the shepherd. Devotion, darlin’. You need to think about it.”

  “He’s too good for me,” I whispered. “I think I’ve always thought so, from the beginning.”

  “He’s moving on.”

  “I hate that expression.”

  Alonso sighed deeply. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Jessica. But you need to face reality. You need to figure out what your feelings are and you can’t keep stringing James along, or me.”

  I glanced up into his face, wondering whether to believe him. Were his feelings for me sincere, or merely due to the fact that he was a big flirt?

  “Partners gotta stick together,” he added simply.

  Under my eyelashes, I gazed across the room at James again. Who was that woman? I’d never seen her before—until the funeral this morning. Even then, I hadn’t liked the way she stared up at James at the podium, her eyes never wavering. She must be new to town, but James hadn’t mentioned her. He usually kept me up-to-date with the news of Snow Valley. So why hadn’t the mentioned her?

  Because he had to conceal his feelings? Because he was entertaining romantic thoughts about her? I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to go home.

  A little girl with bouncy ringlets and wearing a pale pink dress with ribbons and lace came running across the floor and launched herself into the woman’s lap. The young woman nuzzled the child’s ear, tickling her and making her laugh while that mass of long blond hair fell across her face. James greeted the little girl with tenderness and my heart ripped into a hundred pieces.

  This woman had a daughter, and she did not act as though she were still married. But James appeared comfortable and at ease with the woman and her daughter. This woman and her child fulfilled the need James had to take care of someone. She’d be his perfect preacher’s wife. An instant family.

  A moment later, James rose, murmured a casual goodbye, and then scanned the party crowd.

  When his eyes lit upon my face, I turned partway, blinking to clear the sudden tears.

  “He’s coming over,” Alonso said, dropping the foreign pet names for once in his life.

  “Do I have red eyes?” I said with panic.

  Alonso shook his head. “The lights are too low. You look perfect, beautiful.”

  James strode closer and I gave him a wavering smile.

  “I’ll be at the food table when you need me,” Alonso said.

  I barely heard him because suddenly James was there, taking my hand. “May I have this dance, Jessica?”

  I couldn’t speak, just nod, and then suddenly I was in his arms, his hand around mine, warm and firm. I hadn’t realized I’d missed him so much. The last few weeks had been so awkward. I wasn’t good at pretending things were normal after a misunderstanding or a fight—or “no” to a marriage proposal. Not that it had ever happened before.

  “I’ve been worrying that you’d hate me,” I finally said. “I know I’ve been difficult on the phone. I just didn’t know what to say to you after—you know.”

  “Even if we never marry, Jess, I’ll always love you. You’ve been my best friend these last fifteen months. You make me laugh. You keep me on my toes. I think you have a soft heart inside you. Even if you keep it hidden under a tough exterior.”

  “I hope that’s a compliment.”

  He chuckled softly. “It is.”

  “When you left New Orleans it occurred to me that I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call me again. Were we together or had we just broken up?”

  “For many couples, a “no” means just that. No more. ”

  I took a breath, trying not to get emotional. “And tonight, I realized that you’ve moved on.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The woman over there. The one I’m trying not to give dagger eyes to.”

  “You mean April Murphy?”

  I shrugged, trying not to lose it. “You two seemed really intense a few minutes ago.”

  “Her husband died recently. In combat. He was a Marine.”

  “That’s awful,” I exclaimed in a low voice. “H
ow tragic for her and her daughter.”

  James nodded. “It’s been difficult, but she’s a tough woman and she’s making plans on how to get her life back together.”

  I swallowed hard. “I have a feeling those plans might include you. Alonso said she’s in love with you.”

  James had the decency to look surprised, but he didn’t deny it.

  “You’ve felt it then.”

  “We’ve had some nice conversations, but I’m also her spiritual advisor at the moment.”

  “How convenient that Pastor John is out of town right now.”

  “Don’t be catty, Jess.”

  His blue eyes focused on me with an intense scrutiny and shame crept up my neck. “I’m sorry. See? I’m not a very nice person.”

  “It’s actually nice to know you’re a little bit jealous.”

  “I have no right to be. I think I’m losing you and I have no idea what to do about it.”

  “Let’s just enjoy the music and not worry about it right now. It’s not like I’m going to run off and marry April next month.”

  “But it’s crossed your mind.” My voice actually broke a little bit. “She’d make the perfect pastor’s wife.”

  “She’s pregnant,” James suddenly blurted, but I had a feeling he hadn’t meant to tell me that.

  After a moment of surprise, I said, “I won’t say anything. Who would I have to tell?”

  “It’s her husband’s child.”

  “I didn’t think anything otherwise, but she has a long, hard road ahead of her with two babies. She doesn’t look much older than me, and a woman who’s so young and with small children needs a husband. You would be the perfect man, James. How convenient for her to move to Snow Valley and meet her new husband so quickly and easily. The Pastor Dude.”

  He laughed at the title Sam always gave him. What I used to call him before our relationship got serious. “What if I told you that I’d quit the ballet company so we could marry and actually live in the same town?”