“I was just going to ask you about that,” said Alec Ritchie. “We haven’t been able to check our emails all morning.”
“I’m guessing at least one of the local cell phone towers is down. Probably both.”
A general moan went around the room then. Apparently the guests could deal with the loss of the housekeepers a lot better than the lack of Wi-Fi.
“This is the price we pay for being out in such pristine wilderness,” Marshall added. “I suggest you chill and enjoy the freedom of being unplugged for a few days.”
“A few days?” Alec’s voice verged on panic.
“Since tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, it’s unlikely the Internet will be back up until after the holidays. Sorry, folks, but there’s nothing I, or anyone else, can do about that. Mother Nature is the boss out here.”
Eliza carried her dirty dishes to the kitchen, where she found the cook, Griff’s wife Betsy, struggling to keep up. “I hear you’re short-handed.”
“We sure are.” Betsy looked frazzled. Several strands of grey hair had escaped her bun, and the apron tied around her portly frame looked far from fresh. “But don’t you worry about that. We’ll get by.”
“How about I load the dishwasher for you?”
“No need for that, Miss.”
But Eliza could see that clearly that there was. Betsy was worn out from putting on a tea for fourteen people, and in another three hours she was expected to serve dinner to the same crew. “I manage a bed and breakfast. I know a thing or two about these things.”
“Do you? Well.” Betsy looked tempted to accept her offer. Then she shook her head. “But you’re a paying guest. It wouldn’t be right—”
“In normal situations, that’s true. But in an emergency, we all have to pull together.” Only after she’d said the words, did the meaning really penetrate. Up until then, she hadn’t worried too much about the blizzard. But as Marshall had said, they really were alone in the wilderness out here.
*
At five o’clock, Marshall was on his way outside, to go skating with Kevin, when he noticed Eliza emerge from the kitchen. He’d thought she must be up in her room, taking a nap, like a lot of the other guests.
“Everything okay?”
“I was just helping Betsy with a few things.” She glanced from his feet, to where Kevin was waiting impatiently by the back door. “Are you guys going skating?”
“Yes,” Kevin said, sounding impatient.
“I wish I could join you. But I didn’t pack any skates.”
“Not a problem. There’s a stash of them in the drying room. You’ll probably find something in your size. Want us to wait?” Marshall asked.
Poor Kevin looked like he was going to cry.
“You go ahead. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
Marshall would have preferred to wait for her. But that wasn’t fair to Kevin. The poor kid had been climbing the walls all day. Apparently, his parents had claimed it was too cold to go sledding earlier in the day. And now, they were engrossed in a riveting game of Scrabble by the fireplace.
So instead of offering to help Eliza with her skates, he gave her a headlamp. “Sun is down now and it’ll soon be dark. Wear this over your toque so you can see where you’re going. There are some lights down at the skating pond, so once you get there you’ll be okay.”
The wind tried to whip the door out of his grasp when Marshall opened it. He grabbed the collar of Kevin’s coat with one hand, then took a couple of hockey sticks that were leaning against the outdoor wall. He already had a puck in his jacket pocket. “Stay close to me, okay?”
Kevin nodded, and remained right by his side as they walked the path to the skating pond. Griff had just finished clearing off the ice and gave them a wave as he drove the tractor off to commence plowing somewhere else.
Marshall handed Kevin one of the sticks, then dropped the puck down on the ice. Kevin had obviously skated before and he took a quick lap around the pond, bringing the puck alongside of him at the same time. Soon they were passing back and forth, which thrilled the little boy.
In the dusk, the pine trees around them were just dark shadows, like a wall surrounding the pond. A few swirls of pink and light blue trailed after the departed sun, but mostly the clouds were shades of gray and black. The snow continued to fall, but thanks to the forest they were somewhat protected from the winds.
A minute later, Marshall saw a faint light emerge from the lodge and begin moving in their direction. Eliza. He couldn’t help feeling glad as she progressed toward them. It was a foolish thing, letting himself enjoy her company so much. But he couldn’t help being impressed with her. Her skill at cross-country skiing. Her thoughtfulness in helping Betsy in the kitchen. And now this, making time to skate with a little boy when she could have been indulging in a nap or a nice soak in the tub before dinner.
As she drew nearer, the overhead lights picked up the red of her jacket, then the gold of her hair. “I brought you a stick,” he said, skating toward her and holding out the extra one.
“No one told me I was expected to play hockey. I was just hoping I could skate without falling!” She laughed as she stepped tentatively on the ice. Her first few steps were wobbly.
“Let me help you.” He offered her his arm, and they made a slow circuit around the ice, while Kevin busily used a couple pieces of wood to construct a goalie’s net. Once that was in place, he began taking shots, and Marshall provided a little color commentary.
“Now, Kevin Ritchie’s got the puck, he’s working it past the blue line. No one’s open so Ritchie’s heading for the net…and wow! He shoots, he scores!”
Kevin whooped, took a jump in the air, then landed on his butt, laughing. “That was so much fun!”
They stayed out for almost an hour, he and Eliza taking turns in the net while the other acted as defense against Kevin’s offense. Finally, even Kevin admitted to being cold and they made their way back to the lodge, where Kevin’s parents were waiting for him.
“Young man, you need a shower before dinner.” Tina removed her son’s jacket, hats and mitts, while her husband took off the skates.
“But, Mom…”
“No arguing.” Tina took her son’s hand and led him out of the drying room. Alec hung back for minute to talk to Marshall and Eliza.
“Thanks so much for taking Kevin skating. He’s quite a handful, our son. Sometimes Tina and I wonder if we brought the wrong baby home from the hospital.”
Marshall was so taken aback by this, he didn’t know what to say. Kevin seemed like a pretty normal seven-year-old boy to him. “It was fun.”
“Right.” Alec laughed, as if to imply that there was no way this could be true. “Well, thanks again. We’ll see you at dinner.”
Marshall put away the skates he’d just removed from his feet. Sitting on the bench opposite him, Eliza was still shaking her head. “What is that man’s problem?”
“You see all kinds in this job,” Marshall replied.
“I guess so.”
She still hadn’t taken off any of her gear. She was probably exhausted.
“Want some help taking off those skates?”
She laughed. “That would be awesome. My fingers are so cold I still can’t feel them.”
“Rub them,” he suggested, as he dropped to his knees in front of her and started working on the laces. Meanwhile, she pulled off her toque, sending her blonde hair in disarray. He felt his breath catch.
“I can’t feel my toes, either.”
Once he had the skates off he gave each of her feet a brisk rub. “You need a hot bath.”
“That sounds so lovely. At least we’ve still got hot water. And power. When do you think this storm is going to finally end?”
He didn’t say anything at first. The hot water and power wouldn’t last much longer if the propane delivery didn’t come tomorrow. The truck had been scheduled for today, but that hadn’t happened. As for the weather… “According to the Satellite radio, we�
�re in a bit of a holding pattern. The blizzard’s probably going to hang around another day or so.”
“But—” She frowned. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”
He nodded. They were in for a white Christmas all right. More white than any of them had counted on.
Chapter Four
‡
For dinner that evening they had baked salmon, rice and several different salads. Dessert was hot cherry cobbler, served with vanilla bean ice cream. Eliza couldn’t believe how much of the delicious food she was able to pack away. She’d had a very active day, though, so she supposed she needed the extra calories.
She was just finished her tea and was about to go help Betsy with the clean-up, when Buck’s wife, Bonnie, came to join her, bringing along her cup of steaming hot tea. Eliza could smell the peppermint from across the table.
Bonnie had a broad, round face, that didn’t seem to match her lean, tall body. Her smile was friendly as she leaned over the table and tapped Eliza’s mug of coffee. “You looked so familiar. And finally, at dinner tonight, it hit me. You were on the Jane and Ty Morning show, weren’t you?”
Eliza felt instantly uncomfortable. “Yes.” She tried to stand up, but Bonnie kept talking.
“I thought so! You wrote that blog that went viral. Decorating Bramble House for Christmas. Where did you get the idea to put a different themed tree in every room? I’d just love to see that. Do you ever open Bramble House up to visitors?”
“Only our bed and breakfast guests.”
“Well, you should think about serving tea, like a real restaurant. There are plenty of us in Marietta who would love a chance to get a good look at that house. I mean the history alone…”
“That is an idea,” Eliza murmured. She could just imagine the uproar from Aunt Mable if she dared mention the idea. Again, she made to leave the table, but Bonnie Brackett wasn’t finished. She continued talking as if they were old friends.
“And John Urban! That was a surprise. You must have been so thrilled when he called into the show. And then booked into your bed and breakfast for the holidays!”
If I was thrilled, do you think I’d be here, Eliza wanted to say. But she just nodded.
“Imagine a man like that wanting to come to Marietta, Montana for the holidays. I told my friend Nina there had to be more to the story. Like, maybe you’re old friends?” Bonnie narrowed her eyes. “Or maybe he’s an ex-boyfriend—you’re certainly pretty enough to catch the eye of a man like that.”
Of all the people to make a random guess—and be right. Eliza simply didn’t know what to say.
“Well,” Bonnie said, obviously not one to let a sleeping dog lie. “Which one is it? Old friend or ex-boyfriend?”
“I—” She spotted Marshall then. He’d been coming toward her, then had suddenly paused and turned around. How much had he heard?
*
Marshall felt a little stunned. He knew he wasn’t the kind of guy Eliza Bramble would give a second look to. But the two of them had had moments. That talk about his accident and the way his family hadn’t been there for him. She’d looked so sympathetic, as if she knew what that had felt like for him. Then, skating with his arm around her waist. They’d seemed to move so well together, and he was just the right amount taller than her to make it all feel so natural. Then later, after he’d helped her out of her skates, when he’d been rubbing her incredibly narrow feet in his hands…he’d thought she’d given him a look.
But he must have imagined it. All of it. Because a woman who had dated someone like John Urban wasn’t just in another league. She was playing a totally different sport.
“Marshall!” Eliza had left the table and was walking toward him.
Too late he realized he was standing randomly in the middle of the dining hall, like a wild animal who’d been hit with a stun gun. “Um, yeah?”
“I was thinking of helping Betsy with the cleanup. Are you in?”
“Uh, sure, that’s a good idea.”
“That Bonnie is something else,” Eliza said quietly as they made their way past the tables to the arched opening that led to the kitchen. “She was grilling me like I was a suspect in a murder investigation or something.”
Slowly his wits were coming back to him. “Knock on wood. That’s all we need to make this trip complete. A mysterious death.”
She laughed. “Like one of those murder mystery dinners.”
It cheered him, hearing her laugh. He was pretty sure she liked him, at least. But then, he’d always been good in the role of ‘friend.’ “By the way—excellent idea to help Betsy. She must be exhausted by now.”
And she was. They found her sitting on a stool, her head resting on the butcher block counter normally reserved for food preparation. She looked stunned. Around her was the detritus of the evening meal. “I don’t know where to start,” she admitted. “I’ve never had to cook for so many guests without any of my hired girls to help.”
“You start by getting a good night’s rest,” Eliza said. “It’s still snowing out there, so tomorrow isn’t likely to be any easier.”
“Eliza’s right,” Marshall said. “We’ll take care of this. And in the morning you can keep things simple. Boiled eggs and toast will do just fine. People will understand.”
Betsy sniffed. “Boiled eggs and toast my eye. But—are you serious about the offer to clean up?”
“We insist.” Eliza was already scraping dishes to go into the dishwasher. But before she could load then, Marshall shook his head.
“We should do the washing up by hand,” he said. “We’ll use less hot water that way.”
“Oh.” She went still for a moment. “Is it as serious as that?”
“Better safe than sorry,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
They worked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Is it true what Bonnie said? Did you really date John Urban?” It was probably gauche of him to ask. But he had to know.
She sighed. “It was before he was famous. We met in California. I was working for one of the wineries near Sonoma, and he came in for a tour. He had a gig at one of the restaurants in town, and that night I went to hear him. I thought he was…really talented.”
“By talented, I suppose you mean hot.” He passed her a large pot he’d just finished washing.
She took the pot, dried it, put it away. “Yes. That, too.”
“So,” he said, trying to sound casual, “How long did you guys date?”
“In California? Just a few weeks. And then he got the idea to go to Nashville and I, well, I quit my job and went with him.”
“Wow. Impulsive.”
“My family thought I was crazy. I got a lot of e-mails telling me I was making a big mistake.”
“But, you went.”
“Yes. And like my family warned me, it was a mistake. Not just big. Huge.”
He kept washing dishes, keeping his eyes on his task. “What happened?”
“At first he was sweet. We hung out together, and he wrote songs. Most of the ones from his first album he wrote when we were—” She hesitated. “—hanging out.”
By hanging out, he guessed she meant in bed. And the idea of that, well, it bothered him. It made him kind of want to punch the guy. And he suspected she hadn’t even got to the worst part yet.
“And then John got his record deal, and things started changing really fast. He kept telling me he loved me, but he was gone more and more of the time. I had a job at a restaurant, and at first he would always be there to walk me home after the late shift, but that stopped. He gave me excuses, and I believed him. And then a mutual friend—actually his bass player, so not my friend at all, more like John’s—took pity on me and told me John was sleeping with, like, a dozen different women. And I was the only one who hadn’t figured it out.”
Marshall swore.
“Exactly. I asked John why he hadn’t simply broken up with me rather than sneak around behind my back. He gave me some lame story about how I’d always be
special, because I was the one he was with when he wrote all those songs. Blah, blah, blah.”
She was trying to make light of it, but Marshall could see tears gathering in her eyes. She paused, wiping them away with the back of one hand.
“What an asshole.”
“I know. I really do know that. But the crazy part is I can’t seem to get over him. I still cry when I hear him singing on the radio.”
“If that’s true, then why are you here? Why didn’t you stay in Marietta so you could see him again?”
She took a deep breath. “I left because I’m not strong enough to resist him. Whatever he wants from me, he’ll get.”
“You’d go back to him? Even after he cheated on you?”
“I’m afraid I would.”
“That’s real messed up, Eliza.”
“I know. But you asked why I’m here. And that’s the reason.”
Chapter Five
‡
It’s Christmas Eve, Eliza thought, first thing the next morning. She was still lying in bed, eyes closed, snuggled deeply into the covers. It was cool in the room. They’d all been asked to set the heat in the rooms as low as they could possibly manage, so she’d turned hers off.
The room was so cold, she could see her breath.
And it was still snowing outside.
God, how long would this storm last? Last night, after they’d finished cleaning the kitchen and were sipping wine by the fire, she’d asked Marshall if he’d ever known a blizzard to last this long.
“It’s rare,” he’d said. “But it happens.”
She couldn’t believe all the things they’d talked about last night. She’d told him everything about her and John. Probably way more than he wanted to hear. And he’d told her more about his family.
He’d had a twin brother, and when they were nine-years-old that brother had become sick and died. It had happened around Christmas time. Their parents were already divorced, his mother had been tired after a long week at her new job at a bank. When Dean, his brother, came down with a fever, she’d treated it with Tylenol and sent him back to bed.
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