Snow One Like You (9 page)

Surprisingly, the door stood ajar on
her designated store. She’d expected it to be dark. It was not.
Overhead lights captured boxes, stacked high. Being unpacked by two
young women, pencil thin and designer dressed. There were rows of
assorted dress racks. And a floor-to-ceiling gilded mirror. The
lady in-charge spoke to a workman about pushing back a wall for the
dressing rooms. An electrician was rewiring for a
chandelier.

Allie studied the woman’s
profile, reflected in the mirror. Her blond hair was sleek, bobbed.
Her long, leather coat and stiletto boots, stunning and expensive.
Recognition hit, and Allie’s heart sank.
Victoria George
. The New York
designer had returned to Snowbound. Allie took a step back, just as
Victoria turned. They’d been introduced, once. Victoria stared
rudely, but couldn’t seem to place her. She saw Allie only as an
intruder. Allie saw Victoria as someone taking over a shop promised
to her.

“
I’m not open for
business.” Victoria waved her off. “Come back in two
weeks.”

Allie’s throat closed. She could
barely find her voice. “This is your shop?”

“
Boutique.” Victoria eyed
her sharply. “Who else’s would it be? My assistants. My garment
boxes. My designer apparel. High-end sportswear to my luxury
collection.” Her lips pursed. “Who are you?”

“
Allie Hartley.”

“
Ah…yes.” She snapped her
fingers. “Hartley’s General Store. I bought blueberry preserves
from you mother last fall. Sour, and tasted…old.”
Insulting.

Old?
Products moved quickly. Everything sold was well within its
expiration date. She’d never received a complaint. Until now. From
this New York woman.

“
Sorry to bother you,”
Allie managed. “I hadn’t realized the space was rented.”

“
You were looking at it
because?” Victoria suddenly laughed, as the answer dawned on her.
“Surely you weren’t seeking the space for yourself. General store
merchandise at the lodge?
Really?
Not cool.”

Allie took it all in. She couldn’t
wrap her head around the situation. Her hopes had been so high,
opening a second store. She couldn’t believe Rhys would change his
mind so suddenly, without consulting her. Something seemed
off.

“
Do you have a rental
contract?” Allie braved. Needing to know.

“
Nothing signed, only a
verbal agreement,” said Victoria. “Rhys offered me the space before
Thanksgiving, when we were together. We broke up, but after a month
of missing him, I’m back. For the shop. For the man. We’re having a
late dinner to celebrate.”

Allie’s stomach sank. Rhys had not
only switched shop owners, but dinner dates, too. Why hadn’t he
called her? Texted her? How long had Victoria been at the lodge?
From the look of the shop, several days. Time when Allie and Rhys
were apart.

Still, she had mixed feelings. She
never judged by appearances, more could be read into a situation
than was actually there. Rhys had always been honest with her.
She’d give him the benefit of the doubt, until she knew
differently. Had he wanted to break their deal, he would’ve done so
himself. Not had Victoria deliver the news. The woman was catty.
And found enjoyment in hurting Allie’s feelings.

Allie exhaled slowly. Tried to stay
positive. Misunderstanding or not, she needed time to think. Alone.
To pull herself together. She left Victoria to her cartons, garment
bags, and newly arrived workmen. She stopped by Reception on her
way out. Requested to speak with Rhys. She was told he was
snowboarding. Unavailable.

She left the lodge; collected her SUV
from the valet, and drove home. Slowly. It was snowing harder now,
but the road sign for cautionary conditions was not yet operative.
No blinking lights.

Reaching Snowbound, she entered the
general store. Went straight to her bedroom. Her heart hurt. A dull
ache. One she couldn’t shake. Sadness suggested she curl up, bury
herself under the quilt. Close off the world. Restlessness had her
changing clothes. Exercise would clear her head. Give her
perspective. Exhaustion would alleviate her pain.

Dressed in a lavender turtleneck, a
pair of Black Hills pants, and hiking boots, she next collected her
thermal jacket, knit hat, and mittens, and headed for the barn.
Manfred and Maynard seemed surprised to see her. They wandered
over, seeking attention. Comforting her. Someday soon they would
set out on their own. Chances were they’d never return. No moose.
No Rhys. No store. She’d lost upbeat midway down the mountain. Life
looked bleak at the moment.

She pushed the back door open, left it
wide. The twins stuck their noses out. Didn’t go far. She had her
choice of activities. She kept her sports equipment in a gray-metal
locker. She decided on traditional snowshoes, hardwood frames with
rawhide laces. She liked them better than metal. Metal froze
easily. She fitted the snowshoes. She and the moose now had the
same footwear. The twins could walk over snow without sinking. A
quality called ‘flotation’ would keep her above ground,
too.

She snagged a trekking pole to measure
the depth of the snow. For safety’s sake. Then set out. Snowshoeing
was not easy for her. She wasn’t very athletic. It pressed her to
the limit. She had the concept down - to lift the shoes slightly
and slide the inner edges over each other. Just not the ability.
That didn’t stop her.

Halfway across the field, she heard a
snort. She glanced over her shoulder. Straggler moose. She let them
follow, through the gated fencing, and along the frozen stream. One
hour, and her legs began to cramp. Her breathing, labored. White
puffs.

She took a moment and
looked around.
No familiar landmarks. Dusk
approached. The woods were deep and darkening. Allie shook herself.
She’d been so caught up in snowshoeing, in keeping her balance,
she’d missed the increasing snowfall. It was coming down hard now.
She was fully covered with flakes. Even the moose looked
frosty.

They needed to return the way they
came. If she could find the path. Their footprints were no longer
visible. She attempted to turn around. With difficulty. Her nerves
pitched her sideways. She panicked. Sat down. Sank deep in a
snowdrift. Felt sorry for herself.

“
You guys know the way
home?” she asked the twins. Shivering. “I’ll follow.”

Neither moose took the initiative. Off
to her left, Manfred scavenged the bark off a tree. Maynard munched
a willow bush. Allie realized she was hungry, too. Famished,
actually. She’d missed dinner. Her stomach growled.

She jabbed the trekking pole in the
snow, and, with effort, heaved herself up. Her legs were wobbly.
Dampness soaked her pants. Her skin felt chafed. Now what? She
wondered. Night stalked the mountain. No moon or star in the sky.
The snowfall shed little light.

She had no sense of direction. She
wished with all her heart that she’d paid more attention to her
surroundings. Instead she’d moved in her own world, snowshoes
sliding, head down, bemoaning her fate. This was her own fault. She
needed to fix it.

Maynard plodded to her. He head-butted
her shoulder. Allie patted his neck. “I don’t know what to do,” she
confided in him, her voice shaky. “I wish-I wish-”

A muffled chugging caught her
attention. Had her listening carefully. The sound was distant, yet
distinct. The noise was coming her way. Until it stilled, as if an
engine idled.

“
Allie!
” Her name was being called. By a man. At the top of his
lungs.

“
Help!
” she shouted, her throat raw from the cold.

Maynard joined in, grunting
loudly.

“
Allie!
” Rhys, she was sure of it. He was closer now.

“
Here
,” she squeaked.

A headlight pierced the falling snow.
Her rescuer arrived on a snowmobile. The old Artic Cat from the
barn. Rhys cut the engine, hopped off. He stood before her in a
navy thermal jacket with white arm stripes. He removed his goggles.
His expression was hard. His gaze anxious. He slapped his
gloved-hands against his ski pants. His hands trembled.

“
You look like a
snowwoman.”

She blinked against the snowflakes. “I
f-feel like a snowwoman. F-freezing.” Her teeth
chattered.

He drew her to him. Squeezed what
little breath she had left right out of her. “Damn, Allie, you
scared the hell out of me.”

“
I scared myself.” She’d
never been more frightened. “How did you find me?”

“
Moose
droppings.”

“
Our boys know how to leave
a trail.”

The moose had helped, Rhys had to
admit. His search ran on adrenalin, and raw male instinct. A man
searching for his woman. He’d been desperate to find her. Relief
sank bone deep when he’d heard the squeak of her voice. It was time
to get her home. Get her warm. Before she caught her death of
cold.

He hunkered down, unlaced her
snowshoes. Eased them off. Her legs were stiff. He gave each one a
quick rubdown, then helped her on the Arctic Cat. He hooked the
snowshoes on the back of the snowmobile. Climbed on. Settled his
goggles.

He keyed the aging Cat. It gave a
chug, then punched. Streamlined. The headlight picked up the fading
snowmobile tracks. “Let’s go, boys,” he called to the twins. They
headed home. The moose brought up the rear.

Rhys realized, as they neared the
fence gate, that Allie had walked in a circle. The heavy snowfall
had misguided her. Had it been daylight, she would have managed to
turn herself around. Easily found her way home.

They reached the barn. The twins close
behind. He parked the snowmobile inside the door, closed off the
elements once the moose arrived. The barn was warm. Allie, shaking
cold. He eased her off the Arctic Cat. Tucked her to his side. It
was slow going into the store. Once in the mud room, he tugged off
his outerwear, then started on hers.

“
Foolish, woman,” he
muttered as he removed her knit hat, brushed snow from her
eyebrows. “Never put me through that again.
Never
.”

“
Put
you
-” her voice broke. She was having
difficulty speaking. He saw the hurt and disappointment in her
eyes. “Victoria,” said it all.

He unzipped her jacket, drew it off
her shoulders. Next came her turtleneck. He left on her bra. This
wasn’t a sexual rubdown. He needed to restore her circulation. He
rubbed her, neck to waist, fast and steady. The bluish tinge left
her skin. She slowly warmed beneath his palms.

His jaw was set, his chest tight, with
the knowledge she’d been hurt. Humiliated. It never should have
happened. Allie was his best friend. His lover. The situation
could’ve been avoided, had he been warned. He had not.

“
Victoria blindsided me. No
text. No call. No email. Her timing was perfect for her, but bad
for me. I was miles away from the lodge, snowboarding on the
western slope, when she arrived. Limo and moving van.”

Hope lighted her eyes. “She showed up
today, not Monday?”

“
You thought she’d been
there all week?”

She nodded. “Victoria accomplished a
lot in a very short time. She was about to take out a
wall.”

Rhys swore beneath his breath. He
dropped down, tugged off her hiking boots, and then removed her
winter pants. He kicked them aside. He rubbed her legs with the
force of his anger. Allie winced slightly, he gentled his touch.
“Reception paged me when I returned to the ski shop. Diane at the
front desk indicated Victoria had settled in the shop I’d reserved
for you. She further mentioned you’d come and gone.”

“
I was uncomfortable,”
Allie confided. “Embarrassed, too. Victoria was confident the space
was hers. Honestly, I tried to believe-”

“
Believe harder next time,”
said Rhys. “Trust in me. Victoria is pushy, convincing, and used to
getting her own way. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“
You once offered her a
store,” she recalled.

“
Only in passing. Nothing
was ever negotiated or confirmed. She crossed boundaries, and is
gone now,” he assured her. “She won’t be back. The store stands
empty. Swept clean. Waiting for you.”

He took her hand, then, led her down
the hallway to her bedroom. He helped her into a pair of flannel
pajamas. Tucked her into bed. Added an extra quilt. Then lay down
beside her. He kissed her forehead. The tip of her nose. Her chin.
Her lips, ever-so-lightly.

He had one final issue to address with
her. “Snowshoes, Allie? Really? Your worst choice ever. You’ve been
snowshoeing twice. Both times with me. You’ve room for improvement,
babe. Taking off in a snowstorm, major mistake.”

“
It wasn’t snowing that
hard when I left,” she defended.

“
The weather is
unpredictable,” he said. “We don’t measure snowfall in inches, but
in feet. You had no protection.”

“
I had Manfred and Maynard
with me.”

“
Comforting. I give them
points for pooping.”