Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set

by Lucy McConnell

  Chet chuckled. “I have a bucket you can borrow.”

  “Thanks.” Cat squinted at Mercy. “What’s going on?”

  Sam stormed passed.

  Chet nodded.

  Sam grunted.

  Mercy ducked her head, and Cat took in the whole thing with eyes as big as a Thanksgiving Day balloon.

  “Tack!” Sam bellowed.

  Mercy flinched. Poor Tack.

  Chet’s fingers splayed against her lower back, and she took comfort from his firmness. He’d kept her safe. She exhaled and shook out her hands, which were clenched into fists.

  “Sorry about Sam,” said Chet. “He’s pushy and doesn’t know when to back off unless he gets a firm no.”

  “Good to know.” Mercedes’s smile was weak.

  Tack joined them at the register and rang up their purchase. Cat paid with one of the cash cards their grandpa had supplied to cover building materials and they walked together to the parking lot in time to see Sam spray gravel as he left.

  “Jerk.” Cat ran over to check her windshield.

  “My truck’s this way.” Chet gestured to the loading dock where his beat-up Ford waited.

  “Oh—um.” Mercedes chewed her lip. “I didn’t mean you actually had to take us to lunch.”

  Chet stuffed his hands in his pocket. “No, yeah, I mean, yeah.” He started for his truck. “Have a great day,” he said as he hurried away.

  When Mercedes climbed into the car, Cat hit her shoulder.

  “What was that for?”

  “You just killed our chances for another barbecue invitation.”

  Mercy rubbed her arm. “I didn’t mean to embarrass him.”

  Cat rolled her eyes. “Just because he’s not Mr. Muscles doesn’t mean you can’t go out with him.”

  “He’s got plenty of muscles,” muttered Mercy.

  Cat laughed. “I knew you looked! He’s gorgeous, right?”

  Mercy sighed. “All the more reason to keep my distance.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I invite him to Big C’s?” asked Cat as she started the car.

  “Of course not.” Mercy smiled so hard it hurt. “But I thought you were here to write, not date.”

  “I wasn’t the one who swore off men, you were.”

  “Just the good-looking ones,” reminded Mercy.

  “Lucky me, Chet’s as handsome as they come.”

  Mercy looked out the window as she said, “Lucky you.”

  “Ooooooh, you so like him.” Cat shoved her shoulder.

  Mercy continued to stare out the window, ignoring Cat’s giggles. Maybe she did like him, just a little. All the more reason to stay away.

  They split up at the grocery store. Mercy liked lots of spice and Cat liked to eat organic, but there was a lot of overlap with the two. They’d decided to take turns cooking dinner, and each had a recipe plan for the week.

  She was relieved to see that prices in Montana were lower than in Massachusetts. Her savings would last longer that way. With her initial money worries assuaged, Mercedes decided to concentrate on her shopping list.

  Paying attention to laundry soap and almond milk was harder than she thought. Things were organized differently here than they were in Boston. The foods didn’t fall into the categories she was used to. Take the syrup, for example: back home, it was on the cereal aisle. Here, it was with the Karo syrup and the baking supplies. As she grabbed a bottle of sugar-free maple and set it in her cart, she wondered if syrup wasn’t the only thing she’d been categorizing wrong. Take Chet, for example … he was so gorgeous, he made her insides melt. She would normally put him on the same shelf as Robert the Stalker and Jeremey the Cheat because he was seriously handsome. But he was a gentleman in every way, so maybe he should be on the cereal aisle with the guys who were good for her and were a part of a complete breakfast—er, life.

  She whipped a box of Wheat Chex into her cart and shoved the cart forward. This was dumb. There was no reason to consider dating Chet, but there were plenty of reasons not to. For one, she was not in an emotional state to start a new relationship. For two, she didn’t trust her radar. It had failed her too many times. And three, he hadn’t asked her out. Sure, he thought he was buying her lunch—and in truth, she’d kind of asked him. More like trapped him between Sam and a hard place. She picked up a package of frozen chicken. Nodding to herself, she decided she’d done him a favor by saving him twenty bucks at Big C’s.

  She paused in the middle of the aisle, remembering Chet’s face when she told him she wasn’t going with him. If she’d done him such a big favor, why did he look dejected at her dismissal? She opened the door to the frozen veggies and stuck her head in as far as it would go, hoping the cool air would clear her brain. The glass fogged up, so she didn’t see Cat approach.

  “Freezer head, already?” said Cat.

  Mercy leaned out and let the door fall shut on its own. “No! I need stir-fry veggies.”

  Cat sighed. She lifted her right hand and said, “I solemnly swear that I will not ask Chet out.” Her hand dropped. “There, do you feel better now?”

  Mercy cocked out her hip. “It wasn’t about Chet. I wasn’t doing freezer head. And yes, for some dumb reason that makes me feel better.”

  They locked eyes and dissolved into giggles like two little girls. Once they caught their breath, Mercy sagged against the door. “I wanted to go with him. Ugh, I’m such a chowderhead.”

  “Yep.” Cat grabbed her cart and started toward the dairy at the end of the freezer section.

  Mercy caught up quickly. “I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”

  “Yep.” Cat opened the door and pulled out a carton of mint cookie ice cream.

  “Why am I so shallow? When I meet a good looking guy, I fall hard and fast. I’m such a sucker.”

  Cat put the ice cream in her cart and faced Mercedes. “You’re not shallow. You have an artistic eye and that eye is drawn to beauty.”

  “You think that’s all it is?”

  “If it wasn’t, you’d still be with Jeremey the Cheat. You may be attracted by looks, but when it comes to falling in love, you need more than a pretty face.”

  “And big biceps.” Mercedes nodded.

  “A chiseled jaw?” Cat grinned.

  “Of course! And a thick head of hair.”

  “Let’s not forget a good set of pectorals.”

  “Oh, we can’t forget those.” They burst into giggles again.

  Mercy gasped for air. “Okay, we’re both shallow.” She slowed down as they neared the checkout counter. “Really, though, I just want someone who treats me like Dad treats Mom.”

  “Someone who will pull your chair out.”

  “And help me with my coat.”

  “Give you his coat, if you forgot yours.”

  They both sighed.

  Cat looked at her pointedly. “A guy who faces down a giant for you.”

  “Yeah, a guy like that.” Mercy hated to admit, Chet was the best-looking guy this side of the Mississippi and he acted like he had no idea. His quiet confidence unnerved her. He had to have a weakness; every guy did. Well, she wasn’t about to spend the summer looking for it. She resolved to be a good neighbor and nothing more.

  Cat tapped her finger against her chin. “Gee, I wonder where you could find a guy who fights giants?”

  “I hear they live way out in the country and are basically legends, like Bigfoot.” Mercedes unloaded her cart first.

  “Really? I hear they drive beat-up Fords and hang out at the feed store.”

  The red-headed clerk gave them a funny look.

  “You know the next move is on you, right?” Cat put the ice cream on the conveyor belt.

  “Okay, first of all, I’m not about to make any ‘moves’ on the guy. Second of all, I should apologize. I think I embarrassed him.”

  “Ya think?”

  Mercedes rubbed her finger over the small lump that remained from the bee sting. “What am I supposed to do?”

  Cat
waved a bag of chocolate chips at her before sending it for a ride down the conveyor belt toward the bewildered clerk. “Mom always said baked goods are the best way to make amends.”

  Mercy rolled her eyes. “You want me to bake him cookies?”

  “Or a cake.”

  “Hey, gear down there, turbo. I’m not sure he’s cake material.”

  “Cookies it is.”

  Mercy narrowed her eyes. “You’re being awfully insistent here. Are you sure you’re not interested in him?”

  Cat gave her a mischievous smile. “Oh, I’m interested all right.”

  Mercedes heart snagged. She wasn’t going to pursue Chet, but for reasons unknown, she didn’t like the idea of her sister dating him. “Really?” she asked, her voice sounding far away, like the floor was swallowing her.

  Cat laughed. “Yes! The man has a bucket. Do you even know the value of a good bucket? Since you lost ours at the feed store, you had better make nice and get back on Chet’s good side.”

  “Wha—? You little …” Mercedes shoved Cat down to the end of the conveyor, where the groceries piled up. She grinned. “Start bagging.”

  “Paper or plastic?” asked Cat.

  Mercedes rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you like a sister.”

  Cat placed the shortening in the bottom of a bag and piled two packages of milk chocolate chips around it. “Like, the best sister ever.”

  “Second best,” Mercedes pointed to her chest. “World’s best sister—right here.”

  The clerk’s ponytail flicked. She looked slightly annoyed at the sisters’ banter. Mercedes paid, and they made their way back to the car, where they tried to find space for all the groceries.

  Slamming the hatchback closed, Cat said, “The sooner you’re on Chet’s good side, the better.”

  Mercedes ducked into the passenger side. “Why’s that?”

  Cat slid behind the steering wheel. “I just realized we don’t have room in this car for lumber.”

  Mercedes flipped around to take in the grocery bags piled high and blocking their view out the back.

  “Sure wish we knew a guy with a truck …” Cat lifted her shoulders.

  “And all this time I thought you were concerned about my happiness.”

  Cat winked. “Your happiness is my happiness.”

  Mercedes rolled down the window to let in the cool air. She knew Cat was just teasing her about the bucket and the truck. Cat was the first one there when Jeremey the Cheat broke Mercy’s heart. There was no way she’d want her to risk it again unless she was pretty sure of the guy. They picked up speed, heading out of town, and the wind rushing through the open windows made it hard to talk, which suited Mercy just fine. She had a lot to think about. The first thing she needed to decide was if the syrup went on the cooking aisle or the cereal aisle …

  Chapter 7

  That evening, Chet finally got around to unloading his truck. He’d put off the chore in order to spend some time on the tractor and hopefully avoid thinking about Mercedes. When she’d slipped her arm through his, something inside him shifted.

  He’d dated on and off since high school, enjoying the Christmas Ball, school dances, and dates sledding or horseback riding. But no one had ever lit a fire inside him the way Mercedes had. The way she’d talked about them going to lunch felt as natural as sliding on his leather work gloves. It just fit. Her brush-off stung, and he was embarrassed enough to never leave his ranch again.

  Chet threw a bag of grain over his shoulder with a grunt and hauled it into the barn. He dropped it in the corner of the tack room and went back for the next one.

  Whitney and Aiden pulled in, a cloud of dust drifting away as they came to a stop. Chet raised his free hand to wave before disappearing into the barn. It wasn’t long before Lady Morgan, Aiden’s border collie, trotted in. She practically sat on his foot, waiting for a scratch behind the ears. Chet petted her and sent her off to explore the barn. He’d left her a bone and knew she’d find it soon.

  Aiden came in and went straight to the tack room for a lead rope. “S’up.” He nodded to Chet.

  “Not much,” Chet replied.

  Aiden pulled Chet’s horse, Goldie, out of her stall. Together, Chet and Goldie had gone all the way to the high school rodeo finals Chet’s senior year. They didn’t take the calf roping title, but Chet was offered scholarships from several college scouts. He’d completed his associate’s at Utah Valley University. At home for the summer, he’d broken his collarbone and tore a ligament in his roping arm when a stack of hay rolled off the back of the feeding truck and pinned him. He lost his scholarship and had to move home permanently, but felt lucky to be alive.

  Goldie still had a few good competing years in her, and Chet was happy to see her get a workout.

  Whitney led Old Grey from his stall. She was here to make sure Aiden didn’t get hurt and to give him pointers. A champion team roper, she was stiff competition, even for Chet in his prime.

  “Hey.” She smiled at him over the back of Old Grey.

  He nodded and went out for another bag.

  He came back in as Whitney threw a blanket over Old Grey’s back. “Did you get the de-wormer I asked for?”

  Chet threw the sack down. He was supposed to pick up de-wormer for Lady Morgan at the IFA. He looked at his truck. If it hadn’t been loaded before his run-in with Mercedes, he probably would have forgotten the feed. “Sorry.”

  Whitney tossed one of Mom’s old saddles onto Grey and said, “No biggie. I’ll go tomorrow. How was your day?”

  “Fine.”

  “Well, it looks like it’s about to get a whole lot better.” Whitney nodded her head toward the open barn door, where an egg carton of a car pulled to a stop.

  Chet hurried around Grey and picked up the bit. “You go talk to them.” He gave Whitney a gentle shove.

  “What?” Whitney faced him with her hands on her hips. “No. I doubt they drove to your house to see me.”

  Chet looked up to the heavens, hoping inspiration would strike. There had to be a way to get out of talking to Mercedes. He didn’t want to relive or recount his humiliation.

  “Hello?” Mercedes called into the barn.

  “Hey, come on in,” called Aiden.

  Chet threw him a dirty look he didn’t see.

  Mercedes walked slowly into the barn, taking in the open tack room door, the horses poking their heads over the stall doors to see who was here, and Lady Morgan chewing on a bone in the corner.

  Chet groaned. She looked amazing. He’d never survive this. Whitney pinched his arm, and he jumped away from her and into Mercedes’s line of sight. Brushing the horse hair off his shirt, Chet slowly made his way over to where she stood holding a plate in her hands. Cat was nowhere in sight.

  “What brings you out this way?” he asked.

  Mercedes tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She glanced at Whitney and her cheeks colored. “I, um, made you some cookies. To say thank you for this morning.”

  “Sweet.” Aiden rubbed his hands together.

  Mercedes laughed. “Sorry, they’re for Chet. You can’t have one unless he says.” She passed the plate to Chet and looked quickly down.

  Was she embarrassed about today or were the cookies bad? He decided to wait to try them until she’d left, just in case. When he looked back at her expectant face, he knew he couldn’t get out of tasting them in front of her. He picked the smallest cookie and tried to look nonchalant as he took a half-bite. Darn it all if they weren’t soft and warm.

  Aiden reached for a cookie, and Chet pulled the plate away. “Nope—mine.”

  His possessiveness earned him a smile from Mercedes.

  He took a big bite and savored it, taunting Aiden, who tried again and just missed when Chet stepped back. They tousled, and the cookies slipped around on the plate. “Okay, back off and you can have one.” Chet glared at Aiden.

  Aiden took his cookie and inhaled it. “Those are so good,” he said with his mouth still fu
ll.

  “How can you tell? You barely tasted it.” Whitney shared an eye roll with Mercedes.

  “Dude, what did he do to earn those?”

  Mercedes gave Chet a small smile. “He faced a giant.”

  Warmth flooded through Chet as their eyes met. He couldn’t bring himself to look away.

  “Come on, cookie monster, we’re burnin’ daylight.” Whitney clicked her tongue and Old Grey followed her out the door.

  Aiden took advantage of Chet’s distraction to swipe another cookie. He untied Goldie’s reins from the hitching post and followed his mom out to the corral, leaving Chet and Mercedes alone.

  “Thanks for the cookies,” Chet said, hoping to head off any uncomfortable silences. “I’m going to hide them in the house so Aiden doesn’t eat them all.”

  Mercedes chuckled and fell in step beside him. Chet wasn’t sure he liked the idea of her hanging out. He tended to do stupid things when she was around, like think about kissing her or invite her to lunch. He hadn’t actually invited her, but she’d rejected him nonetheless.

  Mercedes broke through his thoughts. “Thank you for your help with Sam.”

  “It was no trouble. Glad I could help.” He opened the back door. “Hang on just a second.” He left her outside; it was just safer that way. Opening the oven, Chet slid the whole plate in and shut the door. Not the most imaginative hiding spot, but it would at least slow Aiden down.

  He stepped out the door and found that Mercedes had moved so she could see the roping pen. Whitney rode up on the roping dummy and let her loop fly. It landed true with a thwack. Chet grinned.

  “She makes it look easy.” Mercedes nodded her head in Whitney’s direction.

  “She was Best in State.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  They watched Aiden take a turn—and miss. He shook his head and re-coiled his rope.

  “It’s like a painting.” She gestured her hands to include the yard, the barn, the corral, and the field beyond.

  Chet shrugged. “It’s home.”

  Mercedes got a faraway look in her eye. “Strange, but it feels like a home to me, too. And it’s nothing like Boston.”

  “You can come over anytime.” His eyes dropped to her lips and then jerked back up to her eyes. “I mean, if you want to.”