Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set

by Lucy McConnell

“Is that the going rate for slaying a dragon?”

  Cat giggled. “I believe it’s dinner and a chocolate cake.” She’d make him a dozen chocolate cakes, one for every month of the year. Then she’d make sure they weren’t interrupted so the next time he leaned in to kiss her…

  Sam opened his mouth and then closed it again. He frowned at his almost empty cup before saying, “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

  “Okay.” Cat shrank into her seat. Despite the heated moment they’d shared, their rhythm felt off. She was planning to leave in a couple weeks, but what if there could be more between them than the occasional heated exchange? Would she be able to leave knowing she hadn’t at least tried with Sam? Would he become her one that got away?

  For some reason, that stupid blank paper came to mind, and she remembered the resolution Grandpa had written in for her.

  Create romance.

  She could give it a try—if only so she could leave Snow Valley behind with a clean slate. Cat considered Sam. He’d already refused her invitation to dinner. There wasn’t much else going on as of late. In Montana, winters were for sticking close to home.

  Another minute ticked by.

  Did Grandpa have any idea how hard real life romance really was? Candlelight dinners—with Grandpa upstairs—weren’t exactly romantic. And shakes, though fun and delicious, weren’t exactly inspiring passion.

  Come on—you’re a romance writer, for Pete’s sake. Sitting with Sam, not knowing what to say was ten times worse than staring at a blank sheet of paper and not knowing what to write. “Congratulations again.” Cat gathered her garbage. The shake she hadn’t really wanted was gone—used to fill in the strained silences.

  “Thanks. This was really nice of you. You’re a good person, Cat.” Sam’s words were warm and kind, melting away some of Cat’s uncertainty.

  “Hey, anytime you buy forty acres.”

  Sam smiled. “Let’s hope that happens a lot in my life.”

  She folded her coat over her stomach and clamped her elbows close to her side. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye.” Sam held the door, and they were once again where breath froze in the air and conversation was difficult. They both did a quick wave goodbye in the bank parking lot and dove for their vehicles.

  Cat shivered as Chet’s truck came to life. . “Brrr.” Cat had a small economy car. Great for life in Boston—not so great for snow-packed roads. Grandpa had a truck he drove into Billings this afternoon. Chet had a spare truck that he loaned Cat as needed.

  She’d just stopped at the one light on Main Street when her phone rang.

  “Hi, Grandpa.”

  “Hi, pumpkin. I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  “What?”

  “Is Aiden still out for winter break?”

  Aiden was Chet’s teenaged nephew that they borrowed for projects every now and again. “I think so. He has this week off.”

  “Will you see if he’s interested in earning some money?”

  Cat snorted. “He’s always interested in earning money. Plus, prom is coming up.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “Oh, to be young again.”

  Cat couldn’t share the sentiment. Her prom date had gotten drunk in the first hour, thrown up in the punch bowl, and got them both kicked out of the dance. To top off the night, he got handsy, and she had to get self-defense insistent because no wasn’t making her point. She’d rather share a quiet meal at home than have another date like that. Although, even getting a quiet dinner with a guy was turning out to be harder than she thought. Sam’s hesitancy bugged her.

  “Pumpkin?” Grandpa’s voice broke through her haze.

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, I took a job doing some work for Sam, and I’m going to pick up the supplies. Do you want me to pick up a pizza while I’m in town?”

  Town meaning Billings, not Snow Valley. Pizza was one of the few things Cat missed about Boston. “Yes!”

  “You got it.”

  “You’re too good to me, Grandpa.”

  “You’re easy to be good to.”

  They said goodbye and Cat was left, musing over the conversation. What did it say that the only things she could list about Boston that she missed were her parents, pizza, and Tony’s gelato?

  Her flight left in less than two weeks, and she hadn’t even thought about packing. A move across country should take some time to plan. Instead, she wanted to spend every minute in Snow Valley as if it were her last. Working with Grandpa and Aiden would bring her stay full circle and be just perfect.

  Speaking of Grandpa … there should be more men in the world like her grandpa. Men who said what they meant and meant what they said. Men who loved the women in their lives more than they loved themselves. She wanted to scream out to the world: where have all the good men gone?

  Wait, wasn’t there a song about that? She did a quick search while she waited for the light to change. Pressing play, she jammed out to “Holding out for a Hero” from the movie Footloose, which she found hit too close to home.

  When the song ended and silence descended on the cab, a quiet voice inside said, Sam is one of those good guys.

  Dropping her head to the steering wheel, Cat fought the urge to withdraw from the university and set up a permanent residence in Montana. In the end, it was the thought of disappointing her dad that kept her from backing out. After all, nothing was sure when it came to Sam. It was just a feeling. Her head was usually a good guide, and she decided to plunge forward. Time to pull out the suitcases.

  Chapter 7

  That evening, Sam left his boots in his mom’s mudroom and made his way into the kitchen. The room was bathed in golden light from the setting sun. Leave Snow Valley? He mentally scoffed at the idea. Not when there are sunsets like this.

  A fresh pan of cinnamon rolls sat on the stove. Light and extra cinnamonie, his mother’s rolls were legendary. Sam helped himself, laying two rolls on a plate and slathering them in butter. Thirty seconds in the microwave, and he had a plate full of amazing in front of him.

  And yet, he couldn’t get excited about eating. Cat had offered dinner. He’d eaten her cooking enough times to know that whatever she served would be worth feeding a thousand chickens for—and he’d turned her down.

  Had he gotten so big in the britches that he assumed even Cat was after him? Cat was one of the best friends he’d ever had. She was honest enough to tell him that the fauxhawk he’d tried before Christmas was not working for him. She was kind enough to bake and deliver bread for people when they were sick. She was funny enough to turn a phrase that had him laughing even days later. And he’d passed on an evening with a friend because his stupid dating instincts were in the middle of rebooting.

  Only, his way of thinking about Cat wasn’t exactly in the realm of friendship. Holding her to his chest and wrapping her in his arms that day in the chicken coop had awakened feelings inside of him that he’d never known existed—at least where Cat was concerned. And today in Big C’s, when Cat had been close enough to kiss, he’d considered it. He’d searched her eyes for a reason he shouldn’t kiss her, and had come up empty-handed.

  Maybe he should have skipped the whole dating thing and just gone for the kiss. Right! And time is found in little bottles on the bottom of the sea, and his dad had a money tree in the backyard.

  Still … kissing Cat was an idea that held his interest as he worked through the sweet rolls. He’d been ready to ask her out on a real, honest to goodness date, and then she’d called him her friend.

  The dreaded friend.

  The phrase iced over his invitation like a freeze ray, and so he sat here eating cinnamon rolls for dinner.

  His mom wandered in halfway through the second helping. “I thought I heard you. How’s it going?”

  “Good. Where’s Dad?”

  “He fell asleep in his chair again.” Mom poured herself a glass of milk and sat across from him. “I saw ya at church on Sunday. You had quite the gro
up gathered round.”

  Sam leaned back. “Not what I was looking for, I’ll tell you that much.”

  “They were pretty girls.”

  “Yep. But I’m playing hard to get.” Funny, he hadn’t given Roxy or what-was-her-name another thought after leaving the church on Sunday.

  Cat, on the other hand …

  His mom smiled. “What are you thinking about?”

  Sam blinked. “Just running over the list of things to do before the workers pull in.”

  “I don’t think so. That was not a work look. That was a sweetheart look.”

  Sam ducked his head and cut another piece of roll. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He prayed she’d drop it.

  Mom plucked at a frayed spot on the placemat. “We appreciate having you around, Sam. Your dad is proud to have you as a partner.”

  Relieved, he replied, “I’m proud to be a Miller.”

  Setting her glass down, she contemplated it for a moment before speaking again. “He’s not as young as he used to be. I think that’s hard on him, knowing he can’t keep up with you.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it….”

  “I know. I guess I wanted to say thank you from me, too—for being there for my man. It means a lot to a woman.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “We worry about our guys.”

  “I’ll always be here, Mom. There’s nothing out there that’s better than what’s here.”

  She patted his hand and then took her glass to the sink. “I’m going to see if I can move my sleeping bear into bed. Good night.”

  “Night.” Sam rinsed his plate, then put it and his mom’s glass in the dishwasher before heading out.

  On the short drive home, his mind wandered. It sure would be nice to come home to a kind word and a warm set of lips.

  Peach lips.

  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to capture a hint of peach as if Cat were sitting next to him. The wheel lurched in his hands, jerking him back to the present.

  Sam swerved, righting his truck on the icy road. His heart rate spiked at his near collision with a snowbank. He needed to focus. And he needed to keep his thoughts on the straight and narrow before he ended up swerving into dangerous territory—on the road or with Cat.

  Chapter 8

  Cat yanked the wrench and gave a grunt. The darn slip nut wouldn’t move. “Aiden!” Her voice echoed around her in the cabinet under the sink.

  “Yeah?” Aiden answered from somewhere in the room. Cat couldn’t see much lying on her side, the upper half of her body in the small cupboard.

  “I need your muscles.”

  “Oh yeah.” He lay down on his side and scooted his head in across from her. “I come in, guns a-blazin’.” He grabbed the wrench and flexed his biceps before loosening the slip nut.

  Cat snorted a laugh. She should be used to the things that come out of Aiden’s mouth, but he’d caught her off guard more than once today.

  When she and Mercedes moved to Snow Valley, Aiden volunteered his time to help Cat and Mercedes fix up their grandpa’s house. The now-seventeen-year-old had wormed his way into their hearts as the little brother they’d never had, and they couldn’t get rid of him if they wanted to. Not that they wanted to. Aiden was a crack-up, and though he was awfully proud of himself, sometimes his muscles came in handy. A fact that the teenage football player loved.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  “Not now. Thanks.”

  “’Kay, I’m gonna finish painting, then.”

  Grandpa was next door, doing the same repairs to a sink that Cat was doing to this one, and Aiden had been given the task of repainting the front rooms. The bunkhouses were long rectangles divided by cinderblock walls. The paint had long ago started to peel off the brick, and Sam wanted them scraped and painted. Aiden, with the energy of a teenager, was the perfect one to tackle the project.

  “So, when are you getting married, Cat?” asked Aiden. He liked to throw that one out there every once in a while just to see what she’d say.

  “A week from Tuesday.” Cat yanked the bucket under the open pipe to catch the foul-smelling gunk that oozed out. Covering her nose, she scooted out of the cupboard and sat up, only to find Aiden and Sam staring at her like she’d grown horns.

  Her heart jumped with something akin to happy panic at the sight of Sam in his work clothes. That man knew how to fill out a jacket. Why hadn’t she heard him come in?

  The guys exchanged an incredulous look. Aiden opened and closed his mouth. “For real?”

  Cat scoffed. “No.” She stayed on the floor, knowing she’d have to go back under the cupboard in a moment.

  Aiden fell against the wall he’d just finished painting, his hand over his heart. “I thought you’d fallen for one of those online stalker guys who promises to marry you and then sells you to human trafficking rings.”

  “For real?” Cat made a face. “Hey, you’re getting shirt on that paint.”

  “I’m …?” Aiden jumped off the wall, spinning in an effort to see his shoulder blade and resembling a puppy chasing his tail.

  Sam shook his head and crouched down in front of Cat. “Why is it smart men become idiots around you?”

  Cat shrugged. “Because I’m stunningly beautiful and can fix a kitchen sink?” She patted the messy bun on top of her head. She knew for a fact that there were all sorts of sections falling out, and she probably had paint in half of it.

  Sam’s smile was warm and oh so inviting. “There is that.”

  Cat bit her lip, wondering if that was her beauty or the fact that she could install a new kitchen sink.

  “What is that smell?” Sam made a face.

  “Your P-trap,” replied Cat. “Here, take this someplace far away and dump it out, will you?” The pipe had finished dripping so she handed him the bucket full of six months of sludge.

  Sam held it at arm’s length. “Dragon slayer to chicken whisperer, and now garbage man—am I being demoted?”

  Cat smoothed her hand down her pant leg. “I prefer the term Renaissance man.”

  “Great, now I’m in tights,” Sam grumbled on his way out the door.

  “How’s it coming in here?” Grandpa clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he came through the front door.

  Cat wiggled back under the sink. “I’m almost finished with this, and gunslinger over there is done with the wall.”

  Grandpa groaned as he got down on the floor next to her legs. “Looks good, pumpkin.”

  “I learned from the best.” She and Mercedes had often helped their grandpa with repairs on the apartments back in Boston.

  “I’m about ready to head home. We’ve finished what I had on the list for today,” said Grandpa.

  Cat positioned the pipe and tightened the slip nut before handing the wrench out to Grandpa to put in her toolbox. “What’s on the list for tomorrow?”

  “We’re going to build closets.”

  “Sweet.” Aiden wrapped the foam paint roller in a plastic shopping bag and then removed it from the stick.

  “By the time we’re done with you, you’ll be able to build a house,” Grandpa held out his hand, and Aiden pulled him off the floor—with another groan. His knees weren’t what they used to be, and he often iced them before going to bed. Cat had asked, but Grandpa hadn’t been to see a doctor yet. She frowned. What would happen if she moved home and Grandpa needed knee surgery? Mercedes and Chet could help … she supposed.

  “Great, I’ll build a house for me and Cat,” Aiden said.

  Cat shook her head.

  “You want to marry my girl?” Grandpa growled.

  Aiden didn’t have the good sense to look scared. “Ya-huh.”

  “What happens if Cat wants to live in Boston?” asked Grandpa.

  “For Cat, I would move to Boston. Wait—are you moving?” Aiden looked like he was about to grab her around the legs and beg her not to go.

  Cat held
up her palm like she was stopping traffic. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words I’m leaving out loud. In truth, the closer it got to her departure date, the more she wanted to stay. She hadn’t even booked her flight. At this rate, she’d be paying double, and she didn’t even care. “I’m not exactly sure where I belong right now.” The feeling of Sam’s arms around her enveloped Cat, making her believe that there was one place she belonged. She stared at the floor, not wanting that moment to evaporate.

  Aiden wiped his brow in an exaggerated show of relief. “If you go, there won’t be any beautiful women in my life.”

  “Don’t let Karina hear you say that.” Cat elbowed him in the stomach.

  He looked around as if she had walked up behind him. “Don’t get me in trouble.”

  “You get yourself in trouble.” Cat gathered the rest of her tools and put them in their assigned spots in her toolbox. Having a task to focus on kept her from feeling guilty for not telling Aiden the truth. Once she told him, he’d tell Whitney, and then the whole Bauer family would light up her phone, and she couldn’t handle the goodbyes, not yet.

  Sam came back in with an empty bucket and a sour look. “That. Was. Disgusting.”

  Cat laughed as she took the bucket from him, noting that not a speck of the goo remained. He must have rinsed the bucket with snow. That was nice.

  “We’re packing up and ready to head out.” Cat watched Sam as he took in the wall and the new plumbing. Grandpa and Aiden carried supplies out to the truck. She should be helping them pick up, but things seemed easy with Sam today, and she wanted that to last.

  On second thought, her clothes and skin were grungy. “Which section is your land?” She pointed right and then left.

  Sam took her hand in his and pointed behind her.

  His touch did funny things to her mind, and all she could think to say was, “Oh.”

  Sam’s eyes took on a semi-seductive quality. “Do you want to see it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Great.” He perused her jeans and sweatshirt. “Do you have anything warmer?”

  “My coat’s over there.” Cat picked up her toolbox.