Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set

by Lucy McConnell

  Holding back his angry bird joke, Sam scooted through the door. Broken eggs coated the wood floor, making it a slippery mess. “Hey. Hey,” he cooed as he wrapped his arms around Cat to shield her from the hens. Tucking his cheek next to hers, he caught her fruity scent.

  Cat buried her face in his neck, clutching his jacket to hold him close. Her breaths were ragged, like she was trying not to cry. He used his teeth to pull off his right glove and tangled his fingers into her soft honey-colored tresses, cupping the back of her head. Sam had never felt hair so silky. He had the overwhelming urge to pull it free from the collar of her coat and let it slide through his fingers. He settled for making small, soothing circles on her neck with his fingertips.

  The chickens were bound to calm down once they realized Cat wasn’t going to pluck them bare. He wasn’t so sure his racing heart would calm as easily. Holding Cat was a novel experience akin to the first time he’d approached a beehive. Exciting, somewhat dangerous, with the promise of something sweet.

  Cat’s breathing evened, but she shook like a sapling in a storm. Sam pulled her tighter, forgetting about chickens and bees and focusing on the woman tucked into his arms. She fit nicely against him, and she somehow smelled of peaches. He liked peaches.

  She moved her head to his shoulder. Man, did he love peaches.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Around them, the chickens kept their feet on the ground, and a few settled into the roosts.

  Cat leaned into Sam—relaxing in his strong and protective embrace. She’d recognized his voice when he came through the door and had unashamedly thrown herself into his open arms, seeking shelter from one raging chicken.

  “I was collecting the eggs and Bessie went nuts. I hate that chicken. If she wasn’t Mercedes’ only Red, I’d take great joy in making her into chicken noodle soup.”

  Sam chuckled, the sound deep in his rather impressive chest. Sure, the guy had on a few layers, but a girl can tell when a guy is built well. Besides, this wasn’t the first time Cat had noticed Sam’s physique. She’d also noticed the way he kept his dark hair short and the way his cobalt-blue eyes said much more than his words. So far, her covert glances had been from a safe distance. Sam was one of her first friends in Snow Valley, and all those months ago she’d made sure he knew she only wanted a friend.

  As up close and personal as they were right now, and with his clean-shaven jaw brushing her forehead, she was noticing a whole lot about Sam that she’d never seen before. Things that made her think staying just friends was a hasty decision. Like the way he made her feel safe, even in a coop full of crazy chickens. She shuddered again, thinking of their sharp beaks and long claws.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered.

  Sam laughed. “Yeah, I’m a real dragon slayer.”

  Cat pulled slightly away so she could look him in the eyes, not willing to be out of his arms while they were still in the coop. “Chickens are direct descendants from dragons. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that.”

  Sam shook his head. His face was serious, as if he believed her, and his eyes danced with laughter. “I had no idea.”

  Cat crinkled her forehead. “I’m pretty sure it’s true.”

  “They both lay eggs.”

  “And have wings.”

  “And I’ll bet dragon skin feels like chicken skin.”

  “I swear Bessie breathed fire.” Cat grinned.

  “Let’s hope not.” He widened his eyes and looked around in mock fear. “This is a wood coop.”

  Cat slapped his shoulder. “Get me out of here before she goes off again.”

  “Of course, my lady.” Sam tipped his hat, and Cat’s stomach did a little flip. Rationalizing her reaction to him as having been perfectly natural under the circumstances, she hurried through the door and into the winter sunshine.

  She flipped the latch to keep the devils inside where they belonged and then hunched forward. “I’m such a chowderhead. I forgot the eggs.”

  Sam shook his head. “I doubt there were any that survived.”

  “Stupid Bessie.” Cat scowled. “I was going to make pumpkin bread.”

  “Now I’m upset at Bessie.” Sam matched her posture, which looked ridiculous on a full-grown man. “If I catch her, will you cook her up?”

  Fighting a smile at seeing such a tall, strong man looking silly on her behalf, Cat asked innocently, “Did you think you were getting some of my pumpkin bread?”

  He folded his arms. “I am taking care of a whole herd of cattle. And cows are way bigger than the chickens. I figured if you get pumpkin bread, I should too.”

  Can snorted. “You can have the cows. If I promise to make you pumpkin bread, will you feed the flock?”

  Sam shook his head. “Not for bread made without eggs.”

  She sighed, thinking of her ruined contribution to the Bauer family New Year’s party. Spending the night with several couples and their children who varied in age was much different from how she would spend the holiday if she were back in Massachusetts.

  In Boston, she’d be headed out with friends or quite possibly on a date with one of the single men from church. She’d been much more social in the city, always running here or there with a friend or her sister. Moving to Snow Valley to follow her dream of becoming an author had been a change in everything from location to culture. Here, she tended to hole up with her laptop, pushing herself to get the next book done. For the most part, she was content. But when the Christmas Ball, barn dance, or bonfire rolled around, she thought having a life wouldn’t be so bad. “It’s just as well. I don’t know what I was thinking volunteering for this.”

  “You’re a good sister.” Sam cuffed her shoulder.

  Cat fought a sigh. She liked the feel of being held by Sam much more than palling around. For just a moment she wondered if she asked, if Sam would follow her back into the chicken coop and they could pick up where they’d left off. And why not? There was an undeniable current running between them back there—and a homicidal hen.

  She dashed the idea of steeling away with Sam for a while at the thought of facing Bessie again. Her at the foul fowl doubled. “I should get a stinking medal.” She pulled a piece of eggshell off her jacket and made a face. “My sneaks are covered in—” Cat lifted her leg to inspect her shoe. “Ew.”

  Sam removed a feather from her hair.

  She laughed. “I’m a mess.”

  “A beautiful mess, though.” Sam tossed the feather to the side as easily as he’d tossed out the compliment. Yet his sincerity shone through. She stared at him, wondering what to say. Had he felt the flux of attraction too? Nervous, her brain froze like a tongue on a metal pipe in the middle of January. How on earth could she write words for over a dozen fictional characters, and yet she couldn’t come up with one intelligent thing to say right now?

  I really need to get out more.

  “I’d better check the water.” He headed towards the back fence, his boots leaving a trail of something she’d rather not name in the snow.

  “Thanks again!” Cat called, pleased that she’d been able to get that much out.

  “No problem.” Sam grinned over his shoulder, cutting a fine figure in his cowboy hat, heavy work coat, and jeans that looked like they were made just for him.

  Cat hurried into the house, where the woodstove blazed. Stripping down to her long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans in the mudroom, she hurried to the kitchen window to watch Sam. His movements were sure, and he looked like the star of a western romance, leaning against the fence with one foot resting on the bottom rail.

  A true city girl, she’d found that the cowboy look had grown on her since moving to Snow Valley. So much so that she’d strayed from her best-selling Regency romance books and started writing a ranch romance.

  The hero was giving her trouble though. She wanted a man hard and weathered by life, a gunslinger unafraid to fight but who hesitated because he knew he’d win. He had to be rugged and yet tender enough to
capture the damsel’s heart.

  Watching Sam brought inspiration pounding at the door, and she headed for her laptop. After a couple hours of hammering out the word count, Cat had more than saving her from chickens to thank Sam for today. Maybe she’d make him that pumpkin bread after all … all she needed was three eggs. Darn that Bessie! With a goofy smile on her face and several layers of clothing, she headed out to Dove’s Grocery.

  Chapter 2

  As far as first dates go, this one wasn’t too bad. New Year, new record—right? Sam smiled.

  Roxy was strong, independent, smart, and pretty with her button nose and Julia Roberts lips. She was one semester away from a bachelor’s degree. “What are your plans after graduation?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “I want to find a way to work from home so I can be a mom someday.” Turning, she drew a smiley face in the moisture on the window.

  This is where Sam usually got into trouble. He wasn’t sure if she was throwing out a hint or just making conversation. He hoped it was the latter. Roxy was the perfect farmer’s wife. He was jumping the gun, as this was their first night out, but Sam was done with casual dating. And what better place to start his own Snow Valley romance than at the New Year’s bonfire?

  “How’re your parents doin’?”

  “They’re recovering from the holidays. Both my brothers brought their families this year and stayed for a week. The house is in complete disarray, but we loved every minute of it.”

  “Sounds like a great holiday.”

  “It was.” Her voice held a note of longing.

  Four years his junior, Sam had missed Roxy in high school. When they’d bumped into each other at Dove’s Grocery on Christmas Eve, it was pretty hard to overlook her flirtatious giggle filling the frozen foods aisle.

  Sam parked next to a minivan in the open field. His tires sank an inch into the snow, the sound cutting of their conversation. “Let’s set up our seats, and then I’ll find some hot chocolate.”

  Roxy bounced her knees and rubbed her mittens together. “Get me close to a fire—it’s freezing.”

  Sam grinned as he slung two camp chairs over his shoulder and offered his arm. Roxy took it with a shy smile. He had her situated and comfortable in no time.

  “I’ll be right back; you good?” he asked.

  She nodded, tucking her hands under her thighs.

  Sam paid twenty bucks for the two hot chocolates in Styrofoam cups. “Thanks, Mr. O’Hare.” He handed over the folded bill. The man’s wife had undergone a hip-replacement surgery and all proceeds from tonight were going to pay medical bills. “Keep the change.”

  “Thank you, Sam.”

  Sam nodded once before heading back to his seat. There was quite the crowd this year, and he had to weave in and out of people.

  One end of the twenty acres of pasture was set apart as a snowy football field with pickup trucks lined up on the sidelines, their lights illuminating the players. Chase and Adam Moon were out there quarterbacking opposing teams. The brothers had a history of competing, but they were keeping it friendly tonight.

  Porter Wilson and Jace McAllister were the running backs. No one moved all that fast, since they were wearing snow pants and heavy coats. The game was more for fun—a way to work off some energy after being cooped up inside. Spring football was where the gloves came off.

  The middle of the pasture was dedicated to the hot chocolate booth as well as an area for Dutch oven cooking. Cobblers were always a favorite.

  “Hey, Sam,” called Susan Bauer.

  “Hi.” Sam lifted a cup in greeting to Chet’s older sister.

  “Apple cobbler cake made with apples from your trees.” She pointed at the cast-iron pan settled atop glowing pieces of charcoal.

  “Then you know it’s goin’ to be good.” Sam grinned.

  “Stop by for a piece later on.”

  “Will do.”

  The final section of the field had three giant bonfires lighting up the night. Camp chairs circled each, scattered like blankets at a spring picnic. The heat from the fires could be felt from ten feet away, and no one settled a chair too close.

  Spying Roxy, Sam carefully stepped around the group. He was making his way to the inner circle when someone bumped him from behind and he had to step quickly to the side to avoid spilling the hot drinks on his gloves.

  The girl who had bumped him landed in the empty seat next to Roxy. They both squealed and threw their arms around each other’s necks.

  “Amy! I didn’t know you were in town,” exclaimed Roxy.

  Not wanting to interrupt their reunion, Sam hung back, positioning himself behind Roxy. Caught up in their reunion, neither girl noticed him. Shrugging, he took a sip of his cocoa. Just right. Kind of like tonight. Sam grinned.

  The bonfire tradition started during the Great Depression. Residents were living out of their gardens and killing cattle to fill the soup pot and save on feed. The simple act of gathering to ring in the New Year with neighbors who were hurtin’ as much as you were fortified the residents of this close community. They toasted leaving the old year, praying for brighter times in the new.

  Sam held the same prayer in his heart. Some refused to see his growth and treated him like the clueless boy he’d once been. Like Luke, who had punched him last spring when he’d flirted with the new massage therapist in town.

  Sam shrugged it off. Over time, his quiet confidence had won him a few good friends. He had his eye on a piece of property adjacent to his. While he had enough to support himself, he’d need more land to support a family. If he stayed the course, it might even win him the affections of the sweet woman who waited for her hot chocolate.

  Amy wiggled in the seat. “I just got in today, and I’m leaving Saturday to fly back to Nevada. I just came to introduce my fiancé to my parents.” Whipping off her glove, Amy brandished an impressive diamond. “Danny is a chiropractor and is opening his practice just outside of Las Vegas.”

  Another wedding. The epidemic spread. Someone was making good money on engagement rings lately.

  “How exciting. Is he here?” Roxy craned her neck, looking beyond Amy.

  “Yeah, he’s playing in the football game.” She rolled her eyes. “I had to come find you. Who are you here with?”

  Roxy ducked her head. “Sam Miller.”

  Amy’s bubbly exterior popped. “Why?” she asked, her tone suggesting there was something wrong.

  Sam lowered his brow. A phrase his mom had repeated played through his head. Those who eavesdrop are bound to hear things they don’t want to.

  “No one else asked, and I wasn’t about to miss out on the bonfire,” replied Roxy. “Besides, he’s a gentleman, and I know he won’t expect anything out of me at the end of the night.”

  “You should have just come alone … I mean, Sam?” Amy reprimanded Roxy.

  Sam’s shoulders dropped, the drinks suddenly heavy in his hands. Once again, he’d played the game without knowing the rules—and he’d lost. This time stung more than others had. Probably because he’d thought Roxy saw the man he’d become.

  “It’s not like I’m marrying him,” defended Roxy.

  Ouch!

  “Can you imagine?” Amy broke into giggles.

  Roxy wasn’t laughing. She shifted in her seat. “Speaking of marriage, when’s yours?”

  “This summer. I’ll send you an invitation.”

  “Send it to my parents’ house. I’ll be done with school by then.”

  “Sounds good. I’d better get.” She hugged Roxy once more. When she stood, she almost bumped into Sam—again. “Oh. Hey, Sam.”

  “Amy,” Sam replied without a smile. If he hadn’t overheard their conversation, he wouldn’t have remembered her name. He probably should pretend like he hadn’t heard her, but he had.

  Amy scurried off, her face red, though Sam wasn’t sure if it was from the heat of the fire or from a worry that she’d been overheard.

  Roxy had the same flushed look on her face.
Perhaps, she too was worried he knew what she’d said.

  “Here’s your cocoa.” He thrust the cup in her general direction and sat down in the recently vacated camp chair.

  “Thanks.”

  Roxy’s smile appeared genuine. But how was a guy to tell? “I hope you like it.” It cost me more than you’ll know. He wasn’t thinking about the twenty bucks—he was thinking about his hope that tonight would be the start of something great. He stared at the crackling fire as he took a long drink from his cup, unsure what to say now. They’d had a good conversation going before he’d left for drinks. His desire to continue had been doused by the knowledge that Roxy was using him like a fill-in-the-blank date.

  They watched the flames in silence for a few minutes. “Do you mind if we call it a night?” he finally asked.

  “But it’s only ten-thirty.” Roxy looked confused.

  Sam was at a loss. Was he supposed to play along with her charade? Is that what people did on dates? If girls didn’t want to go out with him, they should say so up front. It would sure save him a lot of time cleaning out his truck and a good chunk of money on dinners in general.

  “Sam!” called Kyle Linwood from a few feet away. Kyle was the high school gym teacher and coached the baseball team. Sam had gone along as a team chaperone and assistant coach when needed.

  Relieved to have the pressure off, Sam waved as Kyle and Cameron made their way through the crowd, holding hands.

  Roxy said hello to Cameron. “Can I ask you a couple questions about the Miss Snow Valley pageant?”

  “I’m not really involved,” replied Cameron, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.

  “But you’ve coached before, right?”

  “Yeah. What do you want to know? I’ll be happy to help if I can.”

  Roxy began firing questions at Cameron about evening gowns and judges. The guys tuned out with the words “talent competition.”

  “How’s it going?” Kyle tipped his American Ninja Warrior baseball cap toward Roxy, indicating he wanted to know about the date and not Sam’s orchard.

  Sam shrugged.