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

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  “And it doesn’t hurt that it’s a billion miles away from Jeremey,” muttered Catrina.

  “Yeah, that’s a perk.” Mercy nudged Catrina.

  “I really hate that guy for messing you up.”

  Mercy jerked back. “He didn’t mess me up. He cheated on me.”

  “If he’d been one of the good guys, he would have just broken your heart instead of shattering it.”

  Mercy squared her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m done crying and I’m done working in the same office with a man who thought I wasn’t good enough.” She offered her hand to help Catrina off the seat. “It’s time to move on and I’m moving to Montana.”

  “The land of little fashion,” quipped Catrina.

  “The land of the two-inch steak,” Mercy shot back. She was already picturing the hearty meals, fresh-baked bread slathered in butter and local honey, and having all the time in the world to watch Food Network.

  “A land void of designer gelato vendors.”

  Mercy cringed. Oh, how she adored Tony’s special blend. “A land void of ex-fiancés.”

  “The land of limited good-looking men.”

  “Um, I think that should be my line.” Mercy placed her overalls on the counter and waved to a sales girl who was busy stuffing a woman into a dinner dress. It wasn’t going to happen, but she understood the girl needed to make a valiant effort for her customer.

  Catrina coughed. “How is a lack of bachelors a good thing?”

  “I’m swearing off hot guys.”

  Catrina snorted.

  “No, really. Every guy I’ve ever dated has been hot-off-the-bench-press hot, and I’m tired of being lied to and cheated on and having to watch my date like a hawk so the vultures don’t move in. From here on out, I’m only dating ...” She screwed up her face. “Well, not ugly guys, but I don’t want the guys that women slather themselves all over.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have much to worry about. Have you seen the population stats on Snow Valley? It’s not like the nightlife is hopping.” Cat sighed. “I wish I had your confidence in life.”

  Mercy shrugged and tossed out her usual comeback when Cat said things like that. “It’s because I’m the older sister.” Sure, she looked confident, she sounded confident, but there was that voice in the back of her head that told her she was crazy for leaving behind everything she’d ever known to move to a place so remote their GPS drew a blank.

  The salesgirl hurried over and rang up Mercy’s purchase.

  Mercy slung the store bag over her arm. No sense bringing the rainclouds. “Speaking of designer gelato …”

  Catrina’s eyes lit up. “Tony, here we come.”

  Chapter 2

  Chet leaned forward in the driver’s seat, just like he always did, as he came around the bend to his parents’ ranch—his ranch, now. He had the debt to prove it.

  The Sweet Meadows Cattle Ranch was outside Snow Valley city limits. If you took the road leading toward the mountains, veered left at the Y, and then crested the hill, you were on the right path. Just around the bend, his land would open up like the pages of his favorite book.

  As the youngest of six children, he was the last to get a chunk of his parents’ acreage. Because he’d overextended himself, he’d had to work as the janitor at the elementary school to make ends meet over the winter.

  In the passenger seat, his fifteen-year-old nephew, Aiden, worked furiously to get in his final text before losing service.

  Chet considered the lack of cell service a perk. Farther up the mountain, like at Wade’s place, they could get a signal. Down in the valley, they used old-fashioned walkie-talkies to communicate on the ranch, and he reached down to flip on the CB radio tuned to his “home station.” All he got for his trouble was static. No news was good news.

  As they began their descent, Aiden dropped his phone into his lap with a sigh.

  Chet suppressed a chuckle. “She’ll still be there tomorrow.”

  Aiden waved him off. “No biggie.”

  “What? It’s Amy, right?”

  “Yeah.” Aiden ducked his head.

  “She giving you grief?” As Aiden’s favorite uncle, Chet was often his confidant. It helped that Chet was still single—gave him cred with the teens in the family. Besides Aiden, he had three other nephews who helped on the ranch. With Aiden’s mom busy preparing for their summer kickoff picnic, Chet had offered to pick Aiden up from football practice while he was in town in exchange for help with the evening chores.

  “Naw, I’m just worn out. Coach was all over us today.” Aiden leaned forward and cursed.

  “Watch it,” Chet warned.

  “Sorry. Aren’t those your steers?”

  Chet followed Aiden’s gaze and saw half a dozen dark spots wandering through the neighbor’s yard. Chet hit the steering wheel in frustration. He’d have to check the fence line.

  “When’s the new owner supposed to be here?” Chet asked. The neighboring home had been up for sale for years and was just taken off the market for an extreme makeover.

  “Mom said Cindy told her that the agent said they were leaving Boston Tuesday morning.”

  Chet swallowed his curse. “Old Lady Boston could be here any minute.”

  Aiden snickered at the nickname Chet used when it was just him and the boys. From what he’d heard of the newcomer, born and raised in the big city, she wouldn’t last the summer. He gave her a month of seclusion up here in the hills before she packed her carpetbags and hightailed it out of town.

  The cows spread across the front yard like a poorly designed obstacle course. They loved the dandelions and overgrown grass. Pulling over as far as he dared, he cut the engine and pulled on his work gloves. Most of the herd was still on the right side of the fence. The hole had to be through the area just to the side of the house. Aiden handed him a pair of pliers and his emergency roll of wire from the glove box. He got out of the car, tucked the pliers in his back pocket, and made his way down his neighbor’s side of the fence.

  Tromping through weeds, Chet followed the cow tracks until they narrowed. He shook his head. Like an arrow pointing to disaster, the thin line of hoof prints showed him just where the cattle had broken through. With a few minutes of maneuvering, he managed to get his truck into position on one side of the gap, and Aiden began pushing cows down the fence line. Cows were easy to understand. They followed a fence until they found an opening and then they turned. It didn’t matter if it was into the next field, the neighbor’s yard, or out into wolf country; cattle turned when the fence line stopped. It wasn’t smart, but it was predictable.

  Before they were done, a small moving truck, followed by a green car that looked like an egg carton, bounced into the driveway. The driver of the truck honked and waved at him, sending the cattle in all directions. Chet clenched his jaw and exchanged a look with Aiden.

  “City girl,” Aiden grumbled.

  Chet gave him a look. “We’re on their property, so let’s try to be nice …”

  His thoughts drifted away like a well-cast fishing line on a lazy river. The woman sliding out of the moving van was gorgeous. She walked across the gravel driveway and weed-covered yard like a runway model, and had the figure to go with it. Her loose hair bounced against her back in giant curls, the late-day sun bringing out a beautiful caramel color. She had a perfect smile that reached every part of her face and made her glow. She was about his age, maybe a smidge younger, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. This could not be Old Lady Boston, could it?

  Chet looked down at his dust-covered and worn-out work jeans. His shirt was untucked and he was covered in dust from working on the tractor all day.

  “Well, isn’t this just the perfect welcome? Look at all these darlings. They are absolutely beautiful.” She turned to call to the other woman getting out of the egg car. “Cat, get over here and look at the eyes on this girl. They’re as big as tennis balls. Oh, you’re a stunner, aren’t you?”

  C
het’s eyes went wide. Was she talking to the cows? He looked at Aiden, but his nephew’s jaw was dragging in the dirt as he stared at the woman like a lovesick puppy. The other woman approached, much slower in her high-heeled boots, and held her hands out as if the cattle would charge at any moment.

  “Can I pet her?” the first woman asked Chet. Before he could answer she continued, “Will she bite?”

  “Um—”

  “Or, it’s probably kick, right? Will she kick me if I try and rub her between the eyes? Oh, look at that one, she has a star on her forehead. She’s wonderful. This is awesome. Cat, isn’t this the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  Chet put his hand up, like a crossing guard, hoping to calm down this beautiful, albeit crazy woman before she decided to hug the livestock. He wasn’t quite sure where to start with her. Should he tell her cattle don’t usually kick forward—they just give a start and sometimes land a hoof on your toes? Or should he apologize for letting his livestock leave divots in her yard? He looked first to Aiden, who was only moments away from drooling, to the other woman. What was her name? Cat. What kind of name was Cat? She was a beauty in her own right, but missed the quality that left him feeling as tangled up as a steer at a roping competition. And she had a look that said she’d rather be left alone.

  The woman took a step toward the nearest cow, and Chet found his voice. “Ma’am, I don’t recommend you get too friendly with the animals.” Chet grimaced when his voice cracked on the word friendly, but he got the message across.

  “Oh.” Her shoulders fell. “That’s all right. Are these your cows?”

  Pride filled Chet’s chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Grinning, she wrinkled her petite nose. “‘Ma’am’ makes me feel old. I know it’s supposed to be polite and everything, but I don’t think I’m a ma’am. Maybe a miss. Do you think I could be a miss? Or are misses younger? What do you call girls?” she asked Aiden.

  Aiden’s grin could have split a two-by-four. “I think you could pull off ‘miss.’” He bobbed his head like a rooster in the henhouse. “Yeah, you could totally pull it off.”

  Chet wanted to crawl under the front porch. If his sister-in-law saw Aiden right now, she’d have him scrubbing the stalls clean for the next week. “Uh—” He looked back and forth between the two women, not sure how to break this whole thing up and save the family pride.

  Cat gave Chet a look that said she didn’t quite trust him and tugged on the other woman’s arm. “We have to unload.”

  “Oh, right. What was I thinking?” Just like that, her beautiful smile was back in place, as if everything was right in the whole wide world. When she caught Chet’s eye, he couldn't imagine anything ever going wrong.

  “We could help,” volunteered Aiden. He puffed out his chest and pulled back his shoulders. “We could be your muscle.”

  Chet would have laughed if he hadn’t caught himself puffing up too. He cleared his throat and relaxed his shoulders.

  The Boston Beauty gave Chet a once-over. “I’ll bet you could.” She ripped her eyes away, and her face clouded over. “But it will be awhile before we’re ready to unload and you two look busy. Thanks anyway.”

  Chet rocked back on his heels. Neighbors don’t turn down offers for help; especially for something as simple as unloading a truck. In his experience, friends usually jumped in to ease the work load. City girls!

  “Thanks for giving us a welcome to remember,” said Boston.

  The women linked arms and headed back toward the truck. They stopped in front of the house, chatting and pointing, though they were too far away to hear what they were saying.

  Chet looked down and saw his hat in his hands. When did he take that off? His memory was all fuzzy. In fact, he couldn’t remember much of what just happened. It was like a happy tornado had blown into town and stunned him so hard he’d gone into shock. The effect wore off the minute the women disappeared inside the house. Chet stuffed the hat back on his mop-top and cuffed Aiden in the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get this done and get out of here.”

  They worked quickly, and Chet finished tightening the wire he’d used to patch the hole just as Cat came down the porch stairs. Chet felt his face flame. They must think he was a plain country hick. He hadn’t introduced himself, nor had he gotten the name of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Cat gave him another look out of the corner of her eye but kept right on walking. That was just fine with Chet. He and Aiden climbed into the cab of his truck.

  “Wow!” said Aiden as they pulled away. “Just, wow. Old Lady Boston! Dude—you had no idea, did you?”

  Chet shook his head. Nope, he had no idea the woman moving into the old Calaway place would knock the breath, and brain, right out of him.

  “Did you know there were two of them?”

  “Nope. A while back Mom said there was an old couple that owned the place. I thought it would be one of them moving in.”

  “Do you think they, you know, noticed us?”

  Chet barked a laugh. “You mean noticed the way you drooled over them? Yeah, I think they noticed. Way to play it cool.”

  “Like you were any better. Uh, um, duh, friendly cows.” Aiden held his hands up, imitating Chet.

  Chet slugged him in the leg. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

  “I’m good with that.” Aiden craned his neck so he could look in the side mirror. “Man, I think I’m going to college in Boston.”

  “You and me both.” Chet muttered. He wiped at the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. His new neighbor was much more than he bargained for.

  Chapter 3

  Mercedes watched the truck disappear down the dirt road. She’d watched the men repair the fence with a sense of awe. The way they dug right in and tackled the project was admirable. It was obviously physical work, and Mercy had never seen a man use his whole body to accomplish a task like that before. The cowboy wasn’t huge—not like Jeremey, who had more muscles than brains—but he was well-built, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. No sitting around on the couch for this Western Wonder. Not to mention, his strong jaw line, covered in three-day stubble, brought a whole new meaning to the words “ruggedly handsome” and had Mercy fanning herself.

  Cat came in carrying a large box stuffed with cleaning supplies. “Watch out for the railing on the stairs, it’s not steady.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’d give you an update on the fence, but somehow I think you know more than I do. I thought you swore off men.”

  “I swore off rippling-muscle type men.”

  Cat raised one eyebrow.

  Mercy held up her hands. “There’s no harm in looking.”

  “You’re hopeless.” Cat shook her head.

  “Just. Looking.”

  Mercy took in the front room. Most of the furniture was draped with white sheets of fabric, and there was dust everywhere. “I feel inspired to get this job done.” She yanked a sheet off a chair, and a cloud of dust filled the room.

  Waving her hands in front of her face, Cat opened a window. “How about we fold them together and then take them out to shake them off?”

  Mercy coughed. “Good idea.” There was no quick fix on this house. They’d wandered through each room of the ranch-style home, discussing what needed to be done. The wallpaper had to come down. Some of it was quaint, but most of it was hideous. The kitchen needed an upgrade.

  “What do you think about selling the appliances back home? We could list them, include shipping, and make a little extra money,” asked Cat.

  “They’re definitely vintage. I bet they’d sell fast.” She picked up two corners of a sheet and waited for Cat to grab the other two. When she did, they folded the sheet so most of the dust stayed inside.

  “How are we going to cook without a kitchen? There’s not a pizza joint or gelato vendor in sight, and the nearest restaurant was Big C’s or B’s or G’s or whatever we passed on the way through town.”

  “We’ll think of something.�
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  They worked together for a few more minutes in silence.

  “Look at that!” Cat exclaimed. She whipped the sheet they’d been folding out the open window and ran her hands over the roll top desk. “Do you think it opens?”

  Mercy grinned. Cat was finally excited about something. For days before they left, and during the whole ride to Montana, she’d been sullen. She hadn’t even cracked a smile when Mercy pulled over at the Montana welcome sign and took a couple selfies. But an antique, roll top desk brightened her up like Fenway Park.

  The top stuck for a moment. Mercy took one side and Cat took the other. “On three,” said Mercy. “One, two, three!” They both heaved, and the top rolled up one slat at a time, clicking as it went.

  “It’s gorgeous.” Cat ran her hands over the oak.

  “I think you found your writing station.” Mercy draped her arm over Cat’s shoulder. “Admit it, you’re dying to set up your laptop and tuck all your little three-by-fives in the cubbies.”

  Cat grinned. “Alls I know is that I’m not bringing my laptop in here until all the dust is gone.” She reached for a rag. “Did you call to have the water turned on?”

  “Yeah, I did it before we left. Power, too.” Mercy found a pair of yellow kitchen gloves in the cleaning box and grabbed a bottle of furniture polish and a rag. “I’ll start on the fireplace mantle.”

  “I’ll get us some water.” Just as she was about to open the door, there was a knock. Cat stepped back. “There’s no peephole,” she whispered.

  Mercy threw her hands in the air. “We’re not in the city anymore.” She stomped over to the door. “Scaredy-cat,” she whispered as Cat took position behind the door, ready to clobber whomever it was with the bottle of cleaner.

  When Mercy touched the metal doorknob, a chill went up her arm. They were alone on an empty road with doe-eyed cows as their nearest neighbors. She shook off her apprehension; after all, she didn’t beat up Dexton Driggles in the sixth grade because she was a wimp. She yanked the door open to find a woman in a faded blue paisley apron. She had a towel-wrapped loaf of bread that smelled divine in her hands. The young man who helped repair the fence stood just behind her, grinning.