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

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  “What do you mean?”

  “Turns out our cattle thieves were camping out in the mine entrance. Left a few scraps of rope, a cold campfire, that sort of thing. Unfortunately, very modern, nothing historical from the nineteenth century at all.”

  “That’s too bad. But wow, that’s amazing to find proof of the rustlers. So your fence-line really was cut by human hands.”

  “Yeah, it became pretty obvious.”

  “Can they figure out who it was?”

  “Sheriff’s going to get some forensic people out there to see if they can come up with any specifics.”

  A deep male voice came on over the loudspeaker near the bandstand area. “Good afternoon, folks! The Bachelor Auction is about to begin over on the Town Hall stage. Bachelors, get on over there. Ladies, get your bids ready!”

  “Shall we?” Nick said with a glitter of mischief in his eye.

  A crowd quickly began to form. Buzz was building as people headed over for what was sure to be some excitement.

  Several young men from town were being seated on stools on the stage. Some were dressed up in overalls, some in tuxedos, and Captain Wade and a couple of the other firefighters in their hats and gear.

  A group of women started doing wolf whistles and the guys all stood up to flex their arms and show-off.

  “I’m not throwing you up there with the rest of them,” Becca said to Nick in a low voice. “I’m keeping you right here with me. Besides, I don’t have a family nest egg to use on you. I’m a poor college student, remember?”

  The Master of Ceremonies called down to Nick, “Get up here, Bachelor Walton. Don’t you want to see who’s gonna bid on you?”

  Nick grinned at the MC announcer. “Already got me a bidder—and the negotiations were finalized.” The crowd laughed and Nick squeezed Becca’s hand that had slipped through the crook of his arm, bringing her even closer. “Guess it’s out in the open now, huh?”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Okay, folks. This is all for a good cause. The playground equipment for our kiddos here in Snow Valley.” The Auctioneer went on, “The rules are these. You get three dates over the next week with your winning bachelor. Keep it clean. And no nine-month surprises.”

  There were bursts of laughter, some titters, and guffaws all around at that.

  “Hey, you two,” Aunt Rayna said, slipping in to a seat next to Becca. “Having fun? This was always your favorite week of the summer.”

  “The food is to die for,” Becca told her. “I’m not sure I can eat again until next week. Is that a new dress?”

  Her aunt gave a tinkling laugh. “Picked this up at the second-hand store. They’re having an Independence Day sale. Pretty, isn’t it?” She twirled in her purple sundress, the perfect shade to match her hair, and a pair of gold sandals showed off her painted toes. “Perfect dress for a hot day.”

  “You have a bidding paddle in your hand,” Becca said, narrowing her eyes.

  “I might get a craving to bid on one of those hunky bachelors up there on stage.”

  “You are silly, Aunt Rayna.”

  “I’ve been slaving at the B&B all week and thought I’d have some fun.”

  They grew quiet as the bidding began in earnest. All bids began at twenty-five dollars and went up from there. Most bachelors were going for well over one hundred dollars. Then a guy named Jace McAllister was quickly bought for two hundred and fifty after a battle between two women. And another guy named Porter.

  Finally, the auctioneer boomed out, “Captain Wade Kinsella is last! Captain Kinsella is our fearless firefighting leader who kept the town of Snow Valley safe from the ravaging fires this past month!”

  The crowd cheered and Aunt Rayna surged forward, Becca and Nick trailing behind.

  After the high bid of Jace McAllister moments earlier, the bidding was up to two hundred dollars for Captain Wade within seconds.

  Aunt Rayna dove into the fray, her bidding paddle going up in her raised hand over and over again.

  The bids hit three hundred and the other women dropped out.

  “Captain Wade Kinsella goes to Rayna Dash of Starry Skies Bed & Breakfast for three hundred and fifty smackers! Congratulations to all! Have fun, kids. I believe we’ve raised several thousand dollars for our city playground! Have a great 4th of July, folks, and go eat some more pie!”

  Becca turned to her aunt, shock making her jaw drop. “Three hundred and fifty dollars!”

  Aunt Rayna gave her a sly smile. “I always wanted my own firefighter for a week.”

  “But you’ve had a whole crew the past two weeks!”

  Rayna shrugged. “But now I get to have a real date, too.”

  Becca watched her aunt waltz away to go collect her prize and hand over a wad of twenties. “But—but—she’s too old for dating.”

  Next to her, Nick snorted. “She’s only thirty-nine, Bec.”

  “Okay, okay, I know. But, it’s just weird. I’m not used to her dating when I’m here.”

  Life had turned upside down in more ways than one.

  And more shockers came over the following week when Aunt Rayna took Becca and Nick aside in the kitchen one morning after they’d fed breakfast to ten guests who were about to go off on a fishing expedition with Nick for the day.

  Aunt Rayna took their hands in hers. Her eyes settled on their faces. “Just wanted you to know that I’m thrilled with you two. Been waiting years for this to happen.”

  “What?” Becca spluttered. “How could you possibly know?”

  Rayna shrugged her shoulders and shooed them off. “Call it Aunt Intuition.”

  Almost a week later, on Friday evening, Captain Wade got Rayna away from the B&B for one of their *dates* while Becca and Nick and a few of the guests pitched in to get the house decorated for the surprise party.

  Balloons and streamers went up in the parlor and foyer. Meatballs, lunchmeat, breads and salads, as well as the gorgeous bakery cake—decorated in purple flowers and icing—were laid out along the long counter top and kitchen island.

  “They’re here,” called Becca as headlights swung into the driveway. Wade had been instructed to come in through the front door on pretense of checking out the doorbell which had been functioning “funny” lately. “Turn out the lights!”

  Quickly, the guests, Rayna’s girlfriends from town, and the remaining firefighters dispersed throughout the living room, behind furniture, up the staircase landing to hide.

  The front door swung open and then shut. Rayna’s voice could be heard and then Wade’s in low tones.

  Their footsteps came closer.

  “Why are all the lights out?” Rayna asked. “Where’s Becca?”

  There was a pause, and Becca counted one, two, three in her head. Then the switches all flipped on at the same time.

  Bursts of light filled the room. Everyone jumped out from their corners, yelling, “Surprise!! Surprise!!”

  The next thirty minutes were spent in hugs, kisses, best birthday wishes, eating food, cutting the cake. Aunt Rayna oohed and aahed over the food and cake, smiling gloriously at everyone.

  “It’s a success,” Captain Wade said, sidling up next to Becca. “Thanks for helping to make it happen.”

  “You’re half the brains behind the operation,” she told him. “Your last bachelor date was a perfect excuse to get her out of the house.” Becca gave him a sideways grin, putting on an old-fashioned Victorian demeanor and British accent. Hey, she had to channel her inner Jane Austen once in awhile. Especially since her manuscript was languishing unbearably in the clutter on her bedroom nightstand. “I trust your character has been above reproach, Captain Wade, and there will be no nine-month surprises,” she added, unable to resist teasing him using the auctioneer’s words.

  “Nope. But I do have another surprise.”

  “Huh—?” Becca began, but he just shook his head, put a finger to his lips, and began gathering everyone into the parlor.

  Once we were assembled in the parl
or Wade caught Aunt Rayna’s arm and ushered her up to the mantle of the fireplace. “This will make a nice backdrop,” he said, smiling down at her.

  “You know, Wade,” Rayna said, laughing right back at him. “I have to admit I was on to you and Becca long ago. You can’t surprise me with much anymore. Fortieth birthdays are prone to surprise parties.”

  “I never thought I’d fooled you, Rayna,” he said gazing down at her upturned face. “Because that wasn’t the main surprise.”

  “What are you talking about, silly man?” Rayna said. “You’ve got another surprise? Bring it on, I still love surprises, even when I’ve guessed it.”

  Becca thought her aunt looked especially pretty tonight. Her complexion was glowing, her demeanor relaxed, happy. She seriously needed to memorize her aunt’s face and incorporate it into her story. She simply must get some words down on paper tonight when she went to bed!

  “I don’t think you’ll have guessed this one, Miss Rayna Dash,” Wade Kinsella said, his mouth quirking upward as he caught Rayna’s eyes with his own.

  All coherent thoughts scattered as Becca watched Captain Wade get down on one knee, still holding Aunt Rayna’s hand tightly in both of his large ones.

  “Miss Rayna Dash, will you give me the pleasure of marrying me?”

  There was a moment of utter, shocked silence. And then gasps around the room. Laughter tried to bubble up, but everyone held stock still desperately waiting to hear what Rayna would say.

  “Wade Kinsella!” Rayna said, and her voice caught as she stared down at him.”You got me. I am completely gob smacked. A real proposal?”

  “With a real ring,” he said, producing a sparkling diamond from the pocket of his shirt, and which he immediately slipped onto her left ring finger.

  Rayna stared at the ring as it twinkled under the parlor lights. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  And then Captain Wade, like a hero straight out of a Jane Austen novel, gave a hearty laugh filled with wicked joy. Jumping to his feet, he lifted Rayna up into his arms and twirled her around the room. She giggled like a teenager, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and began kissing his cheeks, his hair, and his neck while she gazed at his sparkling blue eyes. “You silly, old fireman,” she whispered.

  Wade slowly lowered her, bent her backward in his arms, and then kissed her while the crowd watched.

  Becca stared. And stared some more. “When was all this going on—right behind my back? You’re proposing after only a week of dates?”

  Aunt Rayna turned in Wade’s arms as he bent to brush his lips against the locks of her purple hair. “You’ve been a little preoccupied, darling Becca. I’ve known Wade for years, actually. Mostly in the winter when you were away at school.”

  “But aren’t you too—“ Becca stopped, mortified to continue what she was going to say. Rayna was forty! Wade was years younger than her!

  Wade un-cannily read Becca’s thoughts. “I’m thirty-four, actually. So no cradle-robbing going on here.”

  Nick slipped an arm around Becca’s waist and she turned to bury her face in his sweet-smelling shirt. She was so embarrassed! She’d thought Wade had been flirting with her over the last month! And all this time, Wade and Rayna were having their own little unspoken, hidden romance.

  “Let’s go have another piece of cake,” Nick suggested.

  She laughed and shook her head, feeling so silly, so blind. A romance right under her nose in this very house. What kind of an observant writer was she? One in need of a few classes and some diligent practice, that’s what.

  Maybe it was time to set aside her sappy romance with Clark Gable and Mr. Darcy underpinnings, and write a murder-mystery-spy-thriller instead. An action packed novel with brave heroes rescuing damsels in distress on the train tracks—or a spy in disguise lurking about a communist hotel behind the iron curtain in 1957.

  Becca glanced up at Nick’s face, hoping he wasn’t laughing at her, but he was only looking slightly amused. “I think I need two pieces of cake, thank you very much. With cold milk.”

  “And I’ll have two kisses—with your warm lips,” Nick murmured, holding Becca close as he bent his head to give her a deep, romantic kiss creditable of the most swoon-worthy pages that had ever been written.

  Additional Works

  By Kimberley Montpetit

  About the Author

  Kimberley Montpetit once spent all her souvenir money at the La Patisserie shops when she was in Paris—on the arm of her adorable husband. The author grew up in San Francisco, but currently lives in a small town along the Rio Grande with her big, messy family.

  Kimberley reads a book a day and loves to travel. She’s stayed in the haunted tower room at Borthwick Castle in Scotland, sailed the Seine in Paris, swam in the waters at Cannes, ridden a camel among the glorious cliffs of Petra, sunbathed on Waikiki, shopped the maze of the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, and spent the night in an old Communist hotel in Bulgaria.

  Love in Light and Shadow

  Lucy McConnell

  Dedication

  To my grandmas and grandpas for making me feel like I could do anything.

  Love you all!

  Chapter 1

  “Mercedes June O’Shay, what in the name of discount fashion are you doing in those?”

  Mercy looked down at the denim overalls and then back up to her sister. “I like them, Cat. They’re roomy.” She wiggled her behind. With the extra fabric in the pants, her movement didn’t have the impact she was hoping for.

  Cat frowned. “They scream ‘single woman and staying that way.’”

  That’s the plan. Mercy frowned at her reflection in the changing room’s gilded mirror. They hadn’t come in looking for overalls, but when Mercy found them on the shelf, she took it as a sign. “I thought they said ‘country girl.’”

  Cat pressed her fingers between her eyes. Mercy could hear her counting to ten under her breath, as if dealing with Mercy’s determination to buy a new pair of pants were the most taxing moment in her day.

  As if. Mercy stuck out her tongue and disappeared into the changing room. “I am buying the overalls,” she called over the door.

  “I will help you buy all the country clothes you want; I’ll even get you a cowboy hat—or cowgirl hat—or whatever the PC term is—as long as you never wear those overalls in public. I don’t want all of Snow Valley thinking we’re some kind of townie-turned-hick chicks.”

  Mercy wiggled her fingers over the top of the door. “We are townies.”

  “No, we’re reformed city slickers. There’s a difference.”

  “Yee-haw!” Mercy called, not caring who heard.

  “You’re so embarrassing,” said Cat.

  Back in her regular clothes, Mercy opened the door to find Cat sitting on the bench on the opposite wall, her chin in her hand and her elbow on her knee.

  Mercy sat next to her and hugged the overalls close. They were perfect for painting—be it a house or a canvas—because they gave her the freedom to move. She needed that freedom in more ways than one, which was part of the reason why she and Cat had decided to take their grandpa up on his offer to restore the old farmhouse out west in exchange for free rent. If all went well, she’d paint enough to have a solid portfolio within a year, and Cat would finally finish that novel she was always pecking at.

  Mercy nudged Cat. “Why so glum?”

  “I’m not glum, I’m reflective.”

  Cat and words! “What are you reflecting on?”

  “You’re so energized about this whole thing and I’m … not.” Cat put her hand on Mercy’s arm. “Don’t get me wrong: I’m looking forward to writing and not having to worry about bills for a year. But I’m not into this country thing like you are. Is that a bad sign?”

  Mercy rolled her eyes. “No analyzing! This is our time, our chance to chase our dreams. We’re going to drive off into the Montana sunset and recreate ourselves. No more Mercedes of the middle cubicle and Grammar Officer Catrina—we are do-it-
yourself farm girls.”

  Cat pressed her lips together. “You’re right. Adios, Officer Catrina.”

  Mercy linked her arm with Cat. “Hello, wheat-grinding, bread-making, garden-planting Catrina.”

  Cat’s hands flew to her chest. “I have to plant a garden?” she asked, a look of horror on her face.

  Mercy laughed as she pulled her purse strap back up on her shoulder. “No, but you will have to make bread.”

  Cat grinned. “After I grind the wheat.”

  Mercy nodded. “Now you’re getting it.”

  “I may be getting it, but I am still not wearing overalls.” Cat shoved Mercy’s shoulder.

  “Fine, you can herd the chickens.”

  Catrina raised both her immaculately sculpted eyebrows. “I don’t think you herd chickens.”

  “Tend?” tried Mercy.

  “Um, that’s children.”

  “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure it’s tend.” Mercy made a mental note to scan one of the many blogs she followed on country life for the proper term on chicken care. She let out a small squeal. “We have a gate, and a fence, and a pasture, and a barn that’s perfect for two horses, and a flock of chickens. And, yes, it is a flock. A brood if they’re all girls, but I want a rooster to wake me up every morning. Besides, roosters have the prettiest tail feathers.”

  “Hello?” Catrina waved her hand in front of Mercy’s face. “I swear, sometimes it’s like you’re already in Montana.”

  “Your fault. You mentioned chickens.” Mercy folded the overalls over her arm and stood up. “All that matters is that we know what we want and we go for it.”