Summer in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance Anthologies Book 2)

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  The light turned red and Jace made a right turn onto Center. A loud horn honked and Jace glanced in the rearview mirror to see the red BMW barreling at him from behind. Swearing under his breath, he swerved out of the way and hit the curb before screeching to a stop. Both he and Kellen jerked forward until the seatbelts locked and threw them back against the seat. The BMW’s tires squealed as the driver barely missed him and came to rest a few yards in front of his truck.

  “You okay?” Jace asked, looking over at Kellen.

  Kellen appeared to be stunned. Then a wide grin broke across his face and he laughed. “That was the most fun I’ve had since I came home.”

  Jace was so taken aback by Kellen’s laughter and playful quip that he wondered if he should thank the California driver for running a red light, instead of calling the sheriff. Then he thought about the other possible scenarios that could have happened. Like getting T-boned by the car or pushed into oncoming traffic. Just thinking about it made him mad.

  “Hang on.” He opened his door to climb out. “I’m gonna go see what this idiot was thinking.”

  “Uh, Jace,” Kellen said as he gawked out the windshield. “Could you also get her number while you’re at it?”

  Chapter 2

  Jace closed the truck door, took a few steps, then stopped and stared at the girl walking at a fast-paced clip toward him. Her long blond hair hung nearly to her waist and swung side to side in time with the sway of her hips. Even though oversized gold aviator sunglasses hid her eyes, Jace could tell she was pretty. While eyes were Jace’s thing, Kellen had always been a leg man. And this girl had nice legs. Tan, long and showcased by a pair of cut-off jeans.

  Seeing how cute she was Jace decided he might cut her a break and not call for law enforcement. As she drew closer, the irritation melted away and he offered her a friendly smile. “Hi.”

  She stopped in front of him and whipped off her sunglasses, revealing light-blue colored eyes filled with…anger? “I can’t believe you pulled out in front of me!” she snapped. “What were you thinking!”

  Wait a minute. She’s mad at me? Suddenly she didn’t look as cute.

  “What are you talkin’ about? You just ran a red light!” He jerked his thumb toward his truck. “Without my evasive driving, you could’ve seriously injured me or my passenger.”

  “I did not run a red light. It was still yellow when I went through the intersection.”

  “Lady, I don’t know what color you thought you saw, but that light was red.”

  She stomped her foot. “It was yellow and since I was approaching the intersection when it changed, I had the right of way.”

  Jace ground his teeth together, determined not to respond with another no-it-was-red statement. This conversation was ridiculous and going absolutely nowhere. He dug into his jean pocket and pulled out his phone, intent on calling the sheriff’s office. He cursed under his breath when he noticed the time. Baseball practice would start in less than an hour and Jace still had to take Kellen home.

  “Look, as long as we’re both okay, let’s just call it even.”

  Her aquamarine eyes narrowed and he was sure she was going to argue with him. “Fine,” she said, slipping her sunglasses back on. She pivoted on her heel and marched toward her sports car.

  Jace watched her walk away, noticing—much to his annoyance—her fantastic legs again. Just before she got inside her car, she looked back over her shoulder and slid her sunglasses down her nose. Even from where he stood, he could see a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “For the record, Hay Boy, the light was yellow.” She flashed him a smile before climbing into her car.

  Ahh! What an aggravating woman. He hated the vanity license plates on his truck that Kellen had given him a couple of years ago. More than one person in town frequently referred to him as Hay Boy. Why couldn’t the plates say something like Horse Lover?

  Stomping back to his truck, Jace climbed in behind the wheel. “Women,” he said, watching her car drive away. “If I ever see that one again, I’ll ride Dark Angel bareback.”

  Kellen gave a low whistle. “Geez, Jace, you don’t need to commit suicide just because she shot you down.”

  “She didn’t shoot me down.” But shooting something sounded good about now. “I didn’t ask for her name or her number. I’m not into princess-type girls.”

  “Even if she’s hot?”

  Jace pulled away from the curb and glanced over at Kellen, surprised how talkative he’d become, especially about a girl. He’d also lost the surly attitude. For now. “If you were so interested, why didn’t you get out and ask her for her number?”

  There was an audible silence and Jace wondered if he’d pushed Kellen too far. Despite the kid’s defensive attitude, Jace was determined not to treat him like an invalid. Kellen was the perfect candidate for a lower-limb prosthesis but refused to even consider one. After going through rehab, and progressing to the use of crutches, a few weeks ago Kellen had just decided he was done and had relegated himself back to the wheelchair.

  “Yeah,” Kellen finally said, the bite back in his voice. “I’m sure a girl like her would go for a one-legged cripple.”

  Jace knew better than to placate Kellen with empty words like how lucky he was to still have most of his leg, let alone surviving when no one else had. While it might be true, it had changed the kid’s life. The girl he’d been dating before he left for Afghanistan made it clear she wasn’t interested in helping him recuperate. She had run off with some bull rider she’d met at the rodeo. It had crushed Kellen’s already low spirit.

  “You’re way more than someone with a below knee amputation. If you would just—”

  “Save it, Jace. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Kellen slumped in his seat, staring out his window. The drive to the ranch took twenty minutes. Since getting Kellen to come with him to town was progress, Jace figured he’d give the kid a break and not say anything else.

  Turning on the radio, Jace mentally prepared himself for baseball practice. Coaching a team of eight and nine year olds was challenging. Especially since he rarely had help from any of the dads. It was worth the effort, particularly for little Kyden Pearson. He was one of the only boys without any kind of male figure in his life.

  For some reason Jace connected with the child. Maybe because he knew what it felt like to never know who your father was. But unlike Jace’s childhood, Kyden had a wonderful mother. Victoria was everything his mother wasn’t. She baked homemade cookies, volunteered at Kyden’s school, and made sure her little boy was fed, clothed and loved. She was perfect and available and quite possibly in love with Jace—at least that’s what he’d heard from other people.

  So what was holding him back? He wasn’t getting any younger and, despite his rotten childhood, he wanted to get married and have a couple of kids.

  Victoria had never said she loved him, and their relationship had never moved beyond being friends. Still, Jace knew if he wanted to take their relationship to the next level, Victoria wouldn’t be against it. But whenever he thought about doing just that, he’d get a knot in his gut that made him feel as immobile and panicked as a calf getting roped in the tie-down event at the rodeo.

  He rolled back his shoulders and decided not to worry about it right now. He’d see Victoria at baseball practice. More than likely she’d invite him to dinner and he would probably accept. They seemed to eat together about once a week. Nothing needed to change. They could stay friends and he could keep helping Kyden.

  After they’d driven a few miles out of town, Jace saw something that made him believe there might be justice in this world after all.

  “Would you look at that.” He pointed out the red BMW, pulled over to the side of the road with a deputy’s cruiser behind it, flashing lights and all. “I wonder how fast he clocked her going?”

  Kellen straightened up as they made a slow drive by. “I don’t think he pulled her over for speeding. Looks like a flat to me.”
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  Jace’s satisfaction was immediately sapped when he noted the deputy was changing the tire while the princess stood by and watched. She wasn’t wearing the sunglasses and when she looked up, their eyes met. Immediately her gaze narrowed, recognition and disapproval evident in those baby blue eyes.

  Flashing a smug smile her way, Jace tipped the brim of his cowboy hat before picking up speed and heading home.

  “Too bad we didn’t get here first,” Kellen said, twisting around so he could still see the BMW and its owner. “We could’ve helped her.”

  “We?” Jace snorted. “You’re telling me you would’ve gotten out and helped change the tire?” If that were true, he’d bag practice and turn around right now to offer their aid.

  “Shut up, Jace. You know what I mean.”

  “The thing is, Kell, you could do it.”

  This time it was Kellen’s turn to snort a laugh. “Right. And just how am I supposed to do it with one leg and sitting in a wheelchair?”

  “Well, you have crutches.”

  Kellen made another derogatory sound before he said, “Tell you what. How about you change a tire using crutches? Oh, and let’s make sure we tie up one of your legs so you can’t cheat and step on your foot.”

  Jace shot him a glance, noting the look of anger imprinted on Kellen’s face. Actually it was a fair challenge. Maybe Jace should take him up on the offer. If he could do it then he’d feel better about pushing Kellen harder.

  “Okay. How about this weekend?”

  Kellen shifted in his seat and this time when Jace looked over at him, the kid was wearing a smirk. “You’re on.”

  “What are the stakes gonna be?”

  “If you can’t do it then you’ll have to stop bugging me about getting a prosthesis and leave me to my wheelchair.”

  “And if I can?”

  There was a lengthy pause. Finally, Kellen blew out a big breath and said, “Then I’ll get the stupid fake leg and learn to walk on it.”

  Jace grinned, feeling happier than the day he’d won the national bareback competition when he was in college. If Kellen learned to walk with a prosthetic, then Jace might consider riding Dark Angel at the upcoming annual Snow Valley Founder’s Day Rodeo.

  ***

  Catherine eased her foot off the gas pedal as she approached the turn for her uncle’s house. A mixture of relief and anxiety gripped her around the middle when she spotted the gates of the GH ranch. Finally she was here. The last couple of hours had been more stressful than the entire escape-from-California-to-Montana trip.

  After leaving the party, she’d gone home and Googled Uncle George and scored big time. His horse ranch even had a website, featuring pictures of the house, horses and some hot cowboy Catherine hoped was nicer than the one she’d almost rear-ended with her car a couple of hours ago.

  After avoiding the accident, she’d only made it a few miles out of town when a cop had pulled her over for speeding. She’d lucked out—sort of—because she must have picked up a nail when she’d eased off to the side of the road. The cop kindly pointed out the flat tire, changed it for her, and didn’t end up giving her a ticket.

  He’d asked her for her number, though. She hadn’t given it to him and maybe that’s why the directions he had given her to Uncle George’s ranch were wrong.

  After driving for nearly an hour, she’d turned around and headed back to Snow Valley. An attendant at the gas station she’d stopped at gave her the correct directions.

  Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she gazed down the winding road, coming to rest on the modest white farmhouse that appeared to be a little smaller than the pictures she’d found on the Internet. She liked the cozy look of it, and sensed that unlike the sprawling mansion she’d been raised in, this house could truly be called a home.

  Tired from the long drive, Catherine was eager to talk to her uncle. She prayed he would be happy to see her and would let her stay with him until she could figure out what to do.

  “I only need to stay for a few months,” she whispered to herself.

  This had been her mantra the entire drive across the states. Once she had her birthday, she could return to California and buy her own condo on the beach. And then she would travel. Something she and her father had only done if it was within driving distance. For all his commanding ways, Richard Holbrook was terrified of flying.

  She reached over on the passenger seat and plucked up her brand new prepaid cell phone. One Daddy couldn’t track. She’d learned that lesson her senior year in high school. The only other time she had tried to defy her father and had run away was just before college. Within twenty-four hours her father had busted her and brought her home. He’d not only tracked her through her credit card purchases, but also by her phone.

  This time she was smart enough to leave her cell at home, along with a quick note telling her father she needed some time to herself and that when she was ready she would contact him. Hopefully when he couldn’t track her right away, he would lose interest in finding her and continue on with his playboy lifestyle.

  Money—or the lack of money—was going to be a problem. She might have to get a job if things didn’t work out, although she had no idea what job she could actually do. Her degree in fashion design had seemed like a good idea while in school. She liked clothes, shoes and handbags, and she liked shopping for them. Maybe women in Montana needed a personal shopper. She could hope, right?

  Aside from taking all the cash she’d had on hand, and withdrawing the maximum amount from the ATM, Catherine had also gone to several different mini marts on the way out of town and purchased half a dozen two hundred dollar Visa gift cards with a few of her credit cards. Things would be tight for a while but Daddy wouldn’t be able to follow her beyond the outskirts of Los Angeles.

  She fingered the phone and debated once more about calling the one and only number she’d programmed into her contacts—Uncle George. Part of her worried if she called ahead it would give him the chance to say no.

  Not willing to take the risk, she dropped the phone on the seat, put the car in gear and pressed on the accelerator. As she approached the house, she took in the surroundings. While the lawn around the home was lush and green, the rest of the property looked like a huge farm yard, complete with a red barn that was bigger than the house, and two corrals—one filled with a few horses, and the other with a mama horse and her baby. At least half a dozen chickens roamed the ground between the barn and the first corral.

  Beyond that was a large fenced in arena with stadium seating on one side, and a maze of gated pens flanked the other side. From the website, she knew her uncle bred and trained American quarter horses for many equestrian events in rodeos. According to the website the GH ranch wasn’t very large, but was well known for the quality of their horses and the training.

  Pulling to a stop in the circular driveway, Catherine took several calming breaths she’d learned in Yoga. After a minute of using the basic Pranayama breathing technique, she felt a little better. She turned off the engine and climbed out of her car. Her legs were a little wobbly after sitting for so long, and she desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes. She was also very hungry.

  As she mounted the porch steps, the front door opened and a woman stepped outside. Catherine couldn’t remember if her uncle was married or not. The woman had dark hair with pretty streaks of silver strands woven in so naturally Catherine wanted to ask her who her colorist was. Though a little on the plump side, the woman had amazing skin.

  “Hello,” she said. “May I help you?”

  “I hope so.” Catherine stopped on the last step, her hand on the porch railing. “I’m looking for my uncle George.”

  “Your uncle?” A light of understanding dawned in the woman’s deep blue eyes. “Caytie?”

  Chapter 3

  Hearing the name her uncle had always used loosened the knot in Catherine’s stomach. “Yes. Yes, it’s me…Caytie.” She liked thinking of herself as Caytie ins
tead of Catherine. It made her feel as if she’d truly escaped being under the thumb of her controlling father.

  Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “Oh my goodness. George is going to be over the moon.”

  She opened her arms and Caytie only hesitated a moment before walking into the embrace. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged her. Well, plenty of men had given her hugs but roving hands had accompanied them all. This was different. It was like having a hot fudge sundae after a long month of going off carbs.

  Then Caytie wondered who she was hugging. She pulled back. “Are you my aunt?”

  The woman laughed, her cheeks flushing bright red. “No, darling girl.” She stepped back and wiped a tear rolling down her cheek. “My name is Ilene Thomas. I’ve been living with your uncle for the past thirty years, cooking and cleaning his house.”

  So stunned by this revelation, Caytie felt her jaw drop. She never figured her uncle would be someone to cohabitate rather than get married. What if she remembered him wrong and he was some cowboy version of her father?

  Ilene must have seen the startled look on Caytie’s face. She covered her mouth with her hand and started laughing in earnest. “Oh my goodness. I think that came out wrong.” She wiped at her eyes again. “I don’t live with your uncle. My house is a little cottage out back where my husband and I have lived for the past thirty years. My husband passed on about fourteen years ago, but this is home to me.”

  “Oh. I didn’t think…I mean, I thought that, but…” Caytie paused for a second and took another cleansing breath. Then she stuck out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Thomas.”

  The woman enveloped Caytie’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Call me Ilene, dear. Or Mama Ilene if you’d like.” She backed up and opened the screen door. “Dinner is almost ready and Kellen and George should be home any minute.” She motioned for Caytie to enter ahead of her. “Come on in and make yourself at home while I set out another place for you at the table. As soon as Jace is home from baseball practice, I’ll have him bring in your luggage. We have a room all ready for you. In fact, George had it decorated nearly thirteen years ago just for you, Caytie.”