Snowfall

by Suzanne Cass

  When they pulled into his driveway, he told her to stay where she was. Then he ran around and tugged the door open with a chivalrous twist of his wrist. He was so sweet.

  She followed Wyatt up the wooden porch steps and through the front door. As Wyatt closed the door behind them, she heard a scrabbling sound. Something gray and fury came hurtling down the hall toward them. She recoiled into Wyatt’s chest.

  “What is that?” she squeaked.

  “Sorry, I forgot to warn you about Rekker. He’s Levi’s tame raccoon.” Wyatt moved between her and the animal, trying to shoo him away.

  “No, don’t, he’s cute. Can I pet him?” Stella got down on her knees and cautiously reached out a hand.

  “You can try,” Wyatt said with a cynical lift to his eyebrow. “Cat can pet him, but not me. Maybe he prefers women.”

  The raccoon came forward and stood up on his hind legs to sniff her outstretched hand. His whiskers tickled her fingers, and she giggled. Then she gently ran her palm over his ears and down his silky fur. He seemed to like it, as he raised his paws again, as if begging for more.

  “Little traitor,” Wyatt muttered.

  Levi appeared through a door at the end of the hallway, Cat half a step behind him, and Stella stood. Even though she knew Wyatt lived with his brother and Cat, she hadn’t expected them to be here. Which was probably a little naïve of her.

  “Oh, hi,” she said, not sure if she should be embarrassed that they were here, witnessing her and Wyatt’s first date. But was it even the date? She didn’t know.

  “Hey, Stella, good to see you,” Levi called down the hallway. “I’ve got the patties in the oven, all ready to go, just like you said.” His gaze shifted to Wyatt, and there was a question mark in the lift of his eyebrow.

  “Thanks, bro.” Wyatt grabbed her hand and towed her up the hall behind him. To Stella he said, “I’ve got a couple of quick things to do in the kitchen, then our picnic will be ready.”

  She wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to a picnic in the cold and dark. But as they rounded through the kitchen door, she could see Wyatt had gone to a lot of trouble. There was a large backpack on the table, half-filled with containers of food, and the makings of a meal still scattered on the countertops.

  She loved poking around in other folks’ kitchens. Perhaps it was because food was so important in her life. If she’d been alone, she may well have opened cupboards to see how they kept their kitchen provisioned. For her, it was like peering into people’s souls; a kitchen could tell you a lot about a person. But this was Levi and Cat’s kitchen, not Wyatt’s, so she probably wouldn’t learn much about him, anyway.

  Wyatt bustled between the oven and the countertop.

  “You’re in for a treat tonight,” Cat said, leaning against the door frame, her blonde hair spiked and blue eyes sparkling. She seemed to be enjoying this. “Wyatt spent hours in the kitchen this afternoon creating a special burger just for you.”

  “Really?” Stella tried to peer around Wyatt’s back, to see what he was doing with the patties he’d taken out of the oven.

  “Cat, you’re supposed to let Wyatt tell her that,” Levi scolded. He went over and slipped his arm around her waist, taking the sting out of his words.

  Cat merely shrugged. What everyone else thought never bothered her.

  Stella heard the crumple of paper, and then Wyatt turned with two wrapped burgers in his hands. They looked exactly like they might’ve come straight from a fast-food joint, and she laughed as she remembered she’d said she wanted to taste one of Wyatt’s burgers. If they’d been in France, she would have expected candlelit tables, soft music, and an expensive restaurant. But this was Wyatt, always doing something unexpected.

  “I’ve got some heat pads in here, to keep the food warm,” Wyatt said, tucking the burgers into the top of the backpack. “Are you ready to go?”

  Stella nodded, even though she had no idea where they were going, or how they were going to get there.

  “It’s a five-minute walk down to the river,” he told her. “I’ve got a flashlight for both of us.”

  Stella sucked in a deep breath. “It sounds like an adventure.”

  “There’s a place I want to show you. I hope you enjoy it.”

  As she pulled her knit cap and gloves out of her pocket, Wyatt handed her a thick, hand-knitted, woolen scarf. “I thought you might need this.”

  “Thank you.” She took the proffered scarf and wrapped it around her neck. It was so sweet, him thinking of her. “Can I carry anything?”

  “There’s a Thermos of hot chocolate over there.” Wyatt pointed to the countertop. “Can you manage that?”

  “Of course I can.”

  As she picked it up, Wyatt gave her one of his rare smiles and her heart jolted in her chest. Suddenly, she didn’t care that she was about to go out into the freezing wilderness and picnic in the dark. All she cared about was the fact she was going to be with Wyatt.

  As they were about to walk out the back door, Levi said abruptly, “Oh, I nearly forgot. Your buddy came looking for you again. The same guy who was at the New Year’s Eve party.”

  Wyatt stopped, his hand on the door handle. He turned around slowly, his face thunderous.

  “What did he want?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  WYATT FROWNED. TONY had been here, at the house, looking for him? That slimy weasel. Why hadn’t he turned up when he said he was going to? Wyatt had been so tempted to take a look at the bulky package, wrapped in brown paper, in Tony’s backpack. But time and circumstance had gotten in the way, and somehow he’d never had a chance. Now he wished he had. Waiting for Levi’s answer, he tried not to grind his teeth. Stella glanced up at him, a question in the purse of her lips.

  “He didn’t say what he wanted, and I don’t know if he’s coming back.” Levi let go of Cat’s waist and stood up straighter.

  “How did he seem?” Wyatt persisted.

  “What do you mean?” Levi leaned both hands on the table and glared at Wyatt, while Cat watched the exchange with interest.

  “I dunno. Was he happy, sad, in a hurry?” Wyatt really wanted to ask if he looked agitated or scared, but he didn’t want to worry Levi.

  “It was hard to tell. He’s not my friend, after all.” Levi stared at him, and the tension in the room ramped up. He must’ve sensed there was something else going on.

  “Never mind,” Wyatt turned away, reaching for the door handle again.

  “Look, bro, he didn’t say much. He mentioned that he’d been around to see you at work, and you weren’t there, so he dropped by here, just in case.”

  Jesus. He didn’t need Tony meddling in his affairs. And he didn’t want Tony going around to his place of work asking questions, either. It was bad enough he came round to his house, making Levi and Cat suspicious. Stella was still looking at him, eyes wide. So, he put Tony and all that he entailed to the back of his mind. He was going on a picnic with Stella; that was all that mattered right now.

  “It’s all good, I’ll catch up with him another day. Come on Stella, let’s go, before our food gets cold.”

  She followed him silently out the door, and he tried to shake off the unease Levi’s words left behind. He flicked on his flashlight, and Stella did the same behind him. He liked the fact she didn’t ask questions—because she must have plenty—but she was keeping them to herself. There was a hidden gate cut into the high, wooden fence running along the rear of Levi’s house. Lifting the latch, he let them both through, and closed it again. A faint trail ran downhill, across a patch of cleared land, and disappeared into the dense undergrowth. Levi and Cat had made a private walkway down to the river. It’d become his favorite place; he went there nearly every day.

  Was he being a complete idiot for taking Stella down there? He’d been so happy, when she agreed to come to dinner with him, it was the first spot that’d popped into his mind. He wanted to share it with her. This was what he loved, and this was who he was. He felt safe
r outdoors in the wilderness. No one to tell him what to do, just the animals and the wind sighing through the trees to keep him company. What if she hated it? Didn’t like the cold or the dark, or both? She was a city girl, and probably used to the finer things in life.

  He glanced quickly behind, to make sure Stella was following him. She’d done extremely well enduring their night spent caught in the blizzard. After her initial shock and horror at their predicament, she’d been accepting, almost embracing the experience as some kind of new adventure.

  “Watch out, the trail gets steep here.” He stopped and offered her his hand to help her down the rocky slope. She took it, and he felt the buzz of connection flow up his arm. “Not far now,” he promised.

  “I can hear the river,” she replied. “Doesn’t it ice over in the winter?”

  He kept hold of her hand, even after the trail flattened out. “Around the edges it does, but it’s too deep and fast-flowing in the middle to freeze all the way over. You’ll see what I mean in a minute.”

  The sound of rushing water got louder, and all of a sudden, the oppressive, dark forest opened to reveal the night sky. The Bitterroot River was about three-hundred feet wide here. In some places it was shallow, gurgling over rounded rocks and through fast-flowing rapids, and in other places it was deep and dangerous. Like this spot he’d brought her to tonight. He could sit by the river for hours, letting it wash away his cares and his petty worries.

  “There’s a little beach over here.” He pointed his flashlight to the left. The beam of light picked out the pile of sticks and brush, surrounded by a ring of rocks he’d laid earlier this afternoon, waiting to be lit.

  He stopped at the boundary of the small, pebble beach, placing his backpack on the ground. “Wait here a second.”

  Dropping to his knees, he pulled out a lighter and set fire to the dry tinder. Almost immediately, flames licked skywards. He made sure he’d laid the fire just right, so it’d catch quickly. It was something he was good at, after all his time spent alone in the forests around his reservation. Then he unzipped the backpack and drew out the thick blanket he’d packed on top. The food was still warm, and he quickly arranged it all on the blanket.

  “Come and sit down.” He patted the spot next to him.

  Stella had her head tipped back, staring at the stars, and when she looked down at him, he could see them reflected in her eyes. She crossed her legs and settled in beside him, and he pulled out another blanket from the bottom of his backpack, wrapping it around her shoulders.

  “Oh, thank you. This is much nicer than I was expecting. You’ve thought of everything.”

  “Did you think I was going to make you freeze in the dark?”

  He caught the flash of her white teeth in the dimness as she smiled. She was sitting so close, if he leaned toward her slightly, their shoulders would touch.

  “The truth?” She gave a soft giggle. “I really didn’t know what to expect. But this is lovely.” They locked gazes for a second. “What about you? Do you have a blanket?”

  “I’ve got another one in my bag. But I’m tough; I don’t feel the cold.” He gave her a cheeky grin. After so much time spent outdoors, it was true. He’d much rather feel the sting of an icy wind on his cheeks and know he was alive, than be cooped up inside. Which was one of the many reasons being locked up for two years in prison had just about killed him.

  “You must be starving,” he said, handing her one of the packages he’d wrapped up in the kitchen. It was late, and he was hungry; his stomach had been rumbling for more than an hour now. But it was worth the wait, so he could eat with Stella.

  “What in it?” She asked, unwrapping the paper and lifting the burger to her nose, inhaling deeply.

  “It’s something special I concocted for you. I hope you like blue cheese,” he asked, suddenly worried.

  She laughed. “I’m French, remember? Of course I do.” She took a large bite. “Mmm, what is that sauce?”

  “It’s a beetroot relish I made the other day. There’s also grilled peppers, and baked eggplant.”

  “It’s delicious,” she mumbled through a mouthful. “When you said you liked to experiment with food, I wasn’t sure what you meant, but this is superb.”

  “Thank you.” It was nice to hear praise for his food, especially from her.

  “Do you make this at your burger joint?”

  “No.” Wyatt gave a cynical grunt. “Bryce isn’t the most imaginative cook. To him, a burger is a burger. He’d think I’d gone mad, if I suggested adding blue cheese.” Wyatt grimaced at the idea. He liked Bryce, respected him for giving him a chance. Even though Wyatt was acquitted and found innocent, people still judged him. They couldn’t see past the fact he was an ex-con. At least Bryce had the decency to study Wyatt’s credentials.

  Bryce had belonged to a biker gang, back in his youth. And he still had the tattoos to prove it. He was gruff and a little surly, but always kept his beard neatly trimmed, and his kitchen sparkling clean. Wyatt didn’t mind if Bryce wasn’t innovative. He ran a strict kitchen, cooked traditional burgers that the locals loved, and made a satisfactory living. He was a good man, and in some ways, he was a man to look up to. If Wyatt could have a life similar to Bryce’s, then perhaps he could be happy, or at the very least content.

  “This is amazing. I’m sure Bryce would change his mind once he tasted it.” Stella held the burger up and scrutinized it, turning it from side to side. “You could serve this in any gourmet restaurant. It’s perfect. The meat patty is incredible. What do you put in it to make it taste so good? And look at the way the cheese melts down the outside.”

  He took a bite of his own burger and watched her face by the light of the fire. It came alive when she talked. The French were more animated than Americans, and he loved to watch her face, read the expressions that crossed her features as she spoke. Warm breath came out in a drift of steam, and his eyes were drawn to her mouth. He no longer heard her words, merely concentrated on the movement of her mouth, the way her lips curved upward.

  She stopped talking, pursed her lips and focused her gaze on him.

  Uh-oh, she must’ve asked him a question, and he missed it. “Sorry, what?”

  A sexy smile passed over her face, almost as if she knew what he’d been up to. “I asked how you found this place. I would never have thought to come here, not in a million years.”

  He shrugged. “I spent most of my teenage years hiking and camping out in the woods. It’s easy for me to be outside. These places are everywhere, if you stop and look. It’s one of the reasons I never moved far away from these mountains.”

  “Your life has been so different to mine,” she admitted. “I grew up in the city streets. My mother never took me camping, she hates the outdoors.” Stella stated it like a fact, but Wyatt also heard a note of regret in her voice.

  He already knew a little about her childhood, from their time together during the blizzard. Knew she had no brothers or sisters, and no father in the picture, either. Understood that her relationship with her mother was complicated. But most mother-daughter relationships were complicated, weren’t they?

  “But I wouldn’t change my life for the world, because I love being a pastry chef, and I love working at Stargazer. And I love being here with you.”

  He wasn’t sure how to respond. It was true; they were two different people, and maybe this dinner had been a mistake. Perhaps they’d decide they really were completely unsuitable. There was the fiancé, for one thing. Was he truly out of the picture? Or was there a chance it was merely a hitch in their relationship? And if he was still in the picture, where could they possibly go from here? But there was something about Stella that called to him. He didn’t know what it was, and he couldn’t explain it. All he knew was that she made him feel better when she was around. More as if he belonged, and less like he was living his life on the fringes of society.

  Stella finished the burger and wiped her mouth with the crumpled paper.

 
He took the paper from her fingers and said, “I’ve got warm, homemade brownies, and hot chocolate in that Thermos you carried down. Would you like some?”

  Stella groaned. “My stomach is about to pop, but that sounds so good, I have to try some.”

  He unwrapped the brownies. The heat pad inside the backpack had kept them warm and gooey. This was a recipe he’d perfected, using Levi and Cat as guinea pigs. Cat had complained she was putting on weight since he’d moved in, but she never refused the offer of a brownie. Wyatt poured the milky chocolate into two tin mugs.

  Stella got to her feet, and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Then she picked up her brownie in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other and wandered toward the edge of the river. Surprised, he grabbed his own mug and sweet treat and followed her.

  “I need to stand up, to shake all that food down,” she laughed.

  “Are you warm enough?”

  “I’m perfect, thank you.” She tilted her head to look up at him. Now they were away from the fire, there was only starlight to light her features. Her soft, gray, knit cap sat low on her forehead, covering her ears and framing the oval of her face. And the scarf he’d lent to her was tucked up tight under her chin, making her look soft and inviting. She took a step toward him. “Actually, I’ve never felt warmer.”