Snow One Like You (6 page)

A dare, given the gleam in his eyes.
To touch him, or not. A fraction of a second, and her fingertips
scored the last two clips. She hooked him, only to have her palm
press him intimately. He went hard for her. He stretched beyond her
open hand. Rhys Forester was large. Very large.

She heard him moan. Swallow. His eyes
dilated. “Stop, before I can’t.” She released him.

The café was close, separated by an
alley. Rhys pulled on his gloves, then helped Allie with her
jacket. Skipped his own. Snow crowded the front door, the porch.
Drifts impacted the steps. He gave the door a shove, then walked
ahead of her, clearing a path with his boots. She descended behind
him.

“
Walk slow,” he said.
Despite the fact he’d cleared the sidewalk earlier, a stiff breeze
sifted new snow banks. Glancing down on her tennis shoes, he
realized snow would get inside her Converse. “Piggyback?” he
offered, giving her his back. She hopped on. Wrapped her arms about
his neck. Snuggled against him. He clutched the back of her thighs.
They moved forward.

Allie sniffed. Her nose was cold.
“Could you jog?”

He stopped. Twenty feet from the café.
“You ask a lot for a free ride.”

She rocked her hips. To keep him
moving. He released a sharp breath. “Boner, Allie” She immediately
stilled. He kept to his original pace.

He unloaded her at the café. Swatting
her bottom as she entered. Making her jump. She grabbed a seat at a
table near the front window. She liked looking out. Granny welcomed
them with steaming mugs of coffee.

Outside, sun on snow glistened. A
bejeweled winter. Snowplows circled Town’s Square, but hadn’t
cleared Main Street. Where there was a will, there was a way.
People showed up by snowmobile, horse and sleigh, on skis. One mug
of coffee led to a second. A box of pastries was passed around.
Rhys chose a glazed doughnut. Allie went with Boston Cream.
Conversation was as spirited as the holiday. Customers lingered.
For hours.

Guy Nash from the police department
made an appearance. Rhys waved him over. He joined them. “Mountain
road remains block,” he stated. “Snowmobiles are to be used only
for emergencies. I can’t get you back to the lodge
today.”

Rhys shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.
“Hartley’s are hospitable.”

Guy looked from Rhys to her, then back
to his buddy. No raised eyebrows or twitch to Guy’s lips. Rhys
wasn’t fooling him. Or anyone, for that matter. Allie was the only
Hartley at the general store. Her parents’ vacation was scheduled
long in advance. Guy knew it, and so did the entire town. Yet no
one commented. The town folk were tight. Observation, speculation,
rarely led to gossip. Feelings seldom got hurt.

Allie and Rhys had palled
around since their first steps. Platonic was believable. It had
served them well thus far. Only Granny Flannery had witnessed
their
snow angels
.
It was winter. Children and adults played in the snow. It was an
eight-month pastime. For now they were friends.

Allie glanced around the café, looking
for the box of doughnuts. One more wouldn’t hurt. She spotted the
box between Granny’s nephews, the Gallagher brothers. Both men were
big and beefy, and owned the local lumber yard. Manners were not
their strong suit. Had Allie called to them to pass the doughnuts,
they would’ve asked her which one, and tossed it to her. So she got
up, and headed toward their table.

The café was filled to bursting.
Standing room only along the walls. Generations gathered. Newborns
to great-grandparents. Familiarity and happiness held hands.
Couples married, and went the distance. Divorce, unknown. Smiles
were broad, and laughter abound. She spoke to everyone. Slow to
reach the doughnuts.

“
Allie, how’s my girl?”
asked Phil Gallagher when she reached them.

Phil was the older of the two, and had
called her ‘his girl’ for as long as she could remember. He liked
her, and made a point of letting her know at every opportunity.
Humored over his persistence, she gave him a peck on the cheek. He
grinned, and patted his knee. There was nowhere else to sit. She
hadn’t planned to be that sociable. She remained
standing.

She widened her gaze on the white
pastry box. “Any left?”

“
One, and he’s been saving
it for you,” groused Pete, the younger brother. “I reached for it,
and he shut the top on my hand.”

“
A cake doughnut,” from
Phil. “Your favorite, Allie.”

She liked cake, but preferred cream
filled. She looked to Pete, and swore he drooled. He didn’t hide
his hunger. There was clanking in the kitchen, as Granny Flannery
fired up the grills. She was in her element: a spontaneous brunch
for sixty. Nothing fancy. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and marble French
toast. Unlimited refills on coffee. The local pastor and several
members of the choir would assist her in the kitchen. Christmas
carols would be sung.

She knuckled the box toward Pete. “All
yours,” she said.

“
Marry her, bro,” Pete
teased Phil. He downed the doughnut in two big bites.

Phil heaved a sigh. Kept a straight
face when he said, “I’d ask her, if there was a spark of a chance
she’d accept. She made snow angels with another fella. Lucky
guy.”

Allie froze to the spot. “Snow
angels?” she was almost afraid to ask.

Phil winked at her. “That’s how Granny
saw it. She had cataract surgery last month, when she went to visit
her daughter in Montpelier. She kept it low-key. She can now spot
the first snowflake on the highest mountain peak.”

A bit of an exaggeration, but Allie
got the message. She wasn’t aware Granny had the surgical
procedure. Twenty-twenty vision. Which meant she saw everything.
Including them.

It had started with a snowball fight.
Followed by melting snow. And ended with their imprints in the
snow. Her backside and Rhys’s knees on either side of her hips.
Embarrassment heated her face. She fanned herself. Changed the
subject. “How’s Monica Carlton?” she asked Phil about the woman he
was dating.

Phil tsked his teeth with his tongue.
“We’re on, we’re off.”

“
She’s a nice lady.
Smart.”

“
She’s a teacher. She’s
always instructing, even on a date.”

“
I’m sure there’s something
you could teach her.” She appealed to his male ego.

The corners of his mouth tipped. “A
few things, maybe. Outside school.”

Allie walked back to her table, sat
slowly. Guy had left on official police business, and Karen and
Walter Rhimes were presently talking with Rhys. They all knew each
other well. Walter was a plumber. His wife, a wild life
rehabilitator at Snowbound Refuge.

She heard Walter comment, “That was
some blizzard. Snow got so heavy on the roof of my tool shed, one
side caved.” He looked at Allie. “How’s your barn holding
up?”

“
Just fine,” she returned.
Walter had plumbed the structure for running water early in the
fall. Allie no longer had to lug buckets of water from the store to
the barn. “No water lines have frozen.”

“
Your moose?” from
Karen.

“
The boys ventured outside
this morning,” said Rhys. “They have no problems plowing through
the snow.”

“
Have you seen Randolph?”
Walter referred to the sole reindeer that wandered the mountain. On
occasion, came into town.

Allie and Rhys both nodded. “Spotted
him near the courthouse building last week,” said, Rhys. “For all
our mayor’s complaints, he’s the first to shake his fist at a
motorist who honks to scare Randolph off the road.”

“
Randolph doesn’t scare
easily,” said Walter. “He has a way of looking at people that says
he belongs and we’re trespassing.”

Allie grinned. “Did you see
the new yellow sign on State Road 40 near Ridge Road?
Reindeer Crossing
.”

“
Warnings are good,” said
Walter.

Karen noted, “You’ll be bringing
Manfred and Maynard to the refuge in the spring.”

Allie’s stomach sank. “It’s
time.”

Karen was kind. Practical.
Knowledgeable. “Moose basically live a solitary existence. Once
rehabilitated and released, the twins will separate. They’ll
travel, and eventually mate.”

“
Will they get along with
Randolph?” Allie wondered.

“
It’s a big mountain
range,” said Karen. “They may never cross paths.”

“
Will they return for a
visit?” Not very realistic, but Allie hoped so,
nonetheless.

“
Maybe,” said Karen. “No
promises.” She touched Allie’s arm. “Trust me, they will enjoy
their freedom.”

“
Who wants brunch?” Granny
Flannery crossed to their table, circulating plates. All four
raised their hands.

Coffee mugs were topped off and
everyone dug in. Soon, full stomachs and smiles wrapped up their
meal. Walter wiped his mouth with a napkin, then asked, “What’s
next?”

“
What do you suggest?” from
his wife.

“
Spontaneity. We keep
Christmas going,” said Allie. “A progressive holiday party along
Main Street. Next stop, the general store. I’m offering
cookies.”

Karen clapped her hands.
“Love the idea. After Hartley’s, we can go to
Treasures
.
Alma
Ward makes the most wonderful Christmas punch, which she serves in
a carnival glass punch bowl. Matching cups.”

Allie visited the antique shop. Often.
She was partial to carnival glass, colorfully patterned with a
shiny, metallic, iridescent surface shimmer. The punch tasted
festive sipped from the vintage glassware. “I’m in,” she said.
“Rhys?”

He leaned back on his chair, stretched
his long legs under the table. He rolled his tongue inside his
cheek. Was slow to nod. Not nearly as enthused as she. “I’m there,
too,” he finally agreed.

“
Cool,” said Walter. He and
Karen left the table to spread word of their next stop. Arms pumped
and there was clapping. Everyone was ready to move on. Including
Granny Flannery. Numerous people had assisted cleaning up her
kitchen. Donations filled an enormous pot used for cooking chili. A
show of gratitude for her serving brunch on Christmas
morning.

Allie slid two fingers under one strap
on his suspenders, snapped it back against his chest. “Where’s your
enthusiasm?” she asked him.

He slid his arm around the back of her
chair, closed in, and whispered, “I’m selfish. I’d wanted to spend
the day with you, alone.”

Alone. She liked the sound of that.
“Surely they won’t stay long.”

Allie and Rhys left the café ahead of
the others. He again piggybacked her to the store. More quickly
this time. They hurriedly packed up cardboard boxes, leftover from
the previous night. When they’d started to restock, but hadn’t
finished. The progressive party soon arrived.

Brunch at the café hadn’t slowed
anyone down. Despite having just eaten, there was room for soft
sugar cookies. And small paper cups of milk. Allie pulled out all
the stops. She filled serving trays with oversized cookies, shaped
like Santa Claus, Frosty the Snowman, sleighs and trees.
Masterpiece cookies, thought Rhys. She’d decorated each cookie with
an eye for detail. From Santa’s raisin buttons to the green-frosted
garland on the sleigh.

Two hours passed, and people were
still as wound up as when they’d first arrived. Rhys played host.
He circulated, chatted, and was cordial. He caught up with each
person. His friends wanted to share their business ventures and New
Year’s resolutions. Life was good in Snowbound.

He discovered that Pageturners Book
Store was expanding its children’s section. Also adding a corner
bin for a used books exchange. Invitations had gone out to favorite
best-selling authors, in hopes of local book signings and select
readings from their novels.

The Pottery Paint Shop welcomed a
seasonal studio potter that worked in earthenware. The Pottery 101
class was experimenting with new glazes. The owners had purchased a
new kiln. The previous one left the clay half-baked.

All That Glitters would soon host a
line of designer jewelry by Parisian Clarissa Rainier,
internationally renowned for her gold artistry. Rings and
bracelets.

Rhys kept one eye on Allie, as he
listened to the changes and expansions. The news was exciting. The
town moved solidly into the future. He confirmed enlargement of
Forester Lodge. Architectural plans were drawn. Six suites were to
be constructed on the south side, overlooking the ski slopes. A
view like no other.

He wished Allie would mention her new
mountain gift shop. To share, and take part in the excitement. His
parents would agree. There was no doubt in his mind. Specifics
could be ironed out after the holidays. The first of the year was
almost upon them. He cleared his throat, and dropped a casual hint
that they had formed a business partnership. That hint circulated
the room in under a minute. Stopping with Allie. A shrieking
halt.

Cheers and congratulations sprang, and
her eyes rounded. Color pinched her cheeks. She sent Rhys a look of
consequence. He went with an innocent shrug. Her glare darkened. He
hoped she’d try to get even. A feisty Allie was a fun Allie. She
wouldn’t stay mad long. He’d introduce her to make-up sex. She’d
forgive him, once he kissed his way down her body. He could be very
persuasive.