They were on the wrong side of the valley to see his house, but Riker knew the overhead vista by heart. He’d flown over his own property many times and knew every curve and twist of the road leading to the little cabin nestled in the trees next to Snow Creek. The canyon didn’t get much traffic and he loved the peace and quiet. It was a good spot for hiking in the summer and deer hunting in the fall, and nearby Casperson Pond was full of fish all year round. It was the closest thing to heaven he could imagine.
It was also a good place for getting stuck if you were trying to drive around in a little two-wheel-drive sedan during one of the heaviest winters Snow Valley had ever seen.
Riker shook his head, trying to clear his mind from calling up the flash in Mariah’s blue eyes and the saucy swing of her hips. She could get a man’s blood pumping, no question. She was very pretty in a very distinct way and she definitely had her own look. Yesterday he could have sworn she’d wandered off the set for some movie from the 1940s with her elaborately curled hair and fancy makeup. He’d be willing to bet she wasn’t the kind of girl who would take off on a two-week backpacking trip through the high Uintas and not complain about needing a blow-dryer. Mariah was a high maintenance girl, no doubt about that.
Like Jillian, the ex he’d left behind in Bozeman. Jillian didn’t have an old fashioned look like Mariah’s, but she’d definitely had a thing for perfect hair and makeup. She never went anywhere without spending at least two hours getting ready, and her credit card bills were through the roof—almost all of it going to an effort to stay up on trends.
Riker had tried to overlook it. The credit card debt wasn’t his problem and he worked to be understanding of her need to look good. He tried not to grumble about how they were consistently late to everything because Jillian couldn’t stop primping. But one day he’d realized his life had become an endless loop of waiting on Jillian’s couch while they missed restaurant reservations, the first half of basketball games, family events, and everything else. As for camping in the Uintas, forget about it. Jillian was strictly an indoor girl who thought his love of hunting was, to be honest, a little creepy.
He shook his head. Mariah was cute, but there was no way he was getting sucked into that again.
“Okay, that’s good,” Henry finally said through the COM. “We can go home.”
Riker nodded. “4-6 Mike Tango heading back,” he said to ground over the headset. “Inbound on north ramp with an ETA of twenty-five minutes.”
“Thanks for the flight,” Henry said after they landed. “I’ll make a report and we’ll probably need to come back up to drop those charges.”
The charges were bags of dynamite they’d drop into key zones on the mountainside. The goal was to trigger small, controlled avalanches and reduce the snowpack to prevent anything bigger and more dangerous.
“How soon will that be?” Riker asked as he pulled out his post-flight checklist.
“I’ll have to file the paperwork with the Snow Valley city officials first,” Henry replied. He scratched his head where the bridge of the headset had put a dent in his graying hair. “I’m in meetings all day tomorrow, so I won’t have time to take it in until Thursday.”
“I can take it for you tomorrow,” Riker offered. He’d been flying the county helicopter for six months, but this would be his first time flying an avalanche drop and he couldn’t wait to see it.
Plus, maybe he’d swing by the boutique while he was in town. Mariah might be too high-maintenance for him, but as they were going to be in Jake and Amy’s wedding together, it would probably be a good idea to smooth things over and at least be friends. Plus, he kind of wanted to watch her puff up like a little irate bird again.
Chapter 5
City Hall was a three-story red brick building across the street from the church. It was large and busy, and Mariah was having no luck finding someone to help her.
“That’s a national thing,” the bored-looking clerk in the buildings department told her. “You have to talk to the parks department.”
“They said I had to talk to you,” Mariah said, somewhat desperately. She’d already wasted an hour running from office to office and was getting nowhere.
“Not the local parks department,” the clerk clarified. “National. You have to go on their website.”
“Okay, I know about the national regulations,” Mariah said, working to keep her voice pleasant. She’d already explained this once. “But I was told the building was a local historical site. Is there someone I can talk to about that?”
“Yeah, the parks department,” the woman said again.
“But they said to talk to you.”
The woman shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. The parks department is the only one I know who would be over stuff like that. Maybe you can check with the county in Billings.”
Mariah forced a smile. “Okay, I’ll try that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the clerk said, her eyes already wandering back to her computer screen.
Mariah left the office and strode down the hall, her high heels ringing against the linoleum and her mind churning. Not being able to move walls in the boutique wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it wouldn’t be what they’d planned, what she’d imagined a thousand times. But how much longer could they chase permits? They needed to get the boutique open and making money. She was saving on expenses by living with Amy’s family, but once Amy got married and moved out, Mariah wanted to find her own place.
She rounded the corner and gave a little gasp as she ran smack into a man coming in the opposite direction. She stumbled and a strong arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her against a hard chest covered in a leather jacket with a cadet-blue Henley underneath. The smell of leather, cinnamon, and coffee washed over her, and she looked up. It was Riker.
When he saw who he was holding, he quickly let go and they both jumped back a pace. Mariah’s heart pounded and she dug her nails into her palms. “Sorry,” she muttered, keenly aware she was blushing. Yet again, she’d embarrassed herself in front of this man.
His glance took in her pin-curled hair, red polka-dot dress with the full knee-length skirt and Peter Pan collar, all the way to her black-and-white spectator pumps. “You look … festive,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Riker glanced around the hallway at the sea of business suits in sedate blues, blacks, and grays. “Nothing. It’s just a little different.”
“What’s wrong with being different?” Mariah said defensively. “This is how I usually dress; it’s called retro. Besides, you’re awfully critical for someone who tramps around the woods dressed like some kind of wannabe GI Joe.”
He stiffened. “Yeah, I wear camo when I’m hunting mountain lions and it pays to have every advantage. But it doesn’t matter because by the time we got your car out, the cat was long gone.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t plan to get stuck in the snow!” Mariah shot back. “Besides, getting my car out took an hour tops.”
He shrugged. “An hour is a lot of time when you’re talking about wildcats.”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment. He wasn’t wearing a hat today and he’d trimmed his whiskers. His dark leather bomber jacket was worn and smooth and instead of camo, he wore jeans and cowboy boots.
“So what do you do when you’re not pretending to be GI Joe?” Mariah asked. “Are you some kind of cowboy?”
He snorted. “I’m as much of a cowboy as you are. But once you live in Snow Valley for a while, you start to dress the part.”
“Who says I’m not a cowboy?” She put one hand on the black patent leather belt at her waist and fixed him with a challenging stare.
His eyes were gray, like the clouds of a summer thunderstorm, sweeping across the sky bringing a crisp, clean scent. They lit up as he surveyed her up and down again. “Yeah, right. You, a cowboy? You’re more like retro Barbie,” he said.
“Well, I live in Snow Valley now,” she said. “I guess I should start dressing the part too.”
“Cowgirl Barbie?” Riker suggested.
She gave an irritated huff, then caught the twinkle in his eye. He was teasing! In an instant, her animosity dissolved.
“Maybe,” Mariah said loftily, switching tones. “Don’t think I don’t know where to find pink sequin cowgirl boots, because I totally do.”
He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t doubt you. And I’ll bet you’d make the cutest little Cowgirl Barbie ever.”
His smile made the corners of his mouth crinkle and she found herself smiling back, her irritation switching like magic to something else. Intrigue? Attraction? Chemistry?
“What are you doing at city hall, anyway?” Riker asked after a moment.
Mariah remembered her errand and sighed. “Trying to do some research, but no one seems to be able to help me.”
“Research on what?”
“Our store, Artisan’s Knack on Main Street?” She waited for confirmation he knew of the boutique, and when he nodded, she continued. “I heard the building is a designated historical site, so we can’t start tearing down walls, but I don’t know who I have to see to get the right permits.”
“Why don’t you let Quentin get them for you?”
Mariah frowned. “Who’s Quentin? Does he work here?”
“Quentin Hudson. He’s usually the go-to guy for construction work around here. I assumed he’d be doing your renovations.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “We don’t have the budget to hire professional help, so it’s all girl power.”
His dark eyebrows shot up. “You’re tearing down walls?”
“Yes. Why is that surprising?”
“You don’t strike me as the type of girl who likes to get her hands dirty.”
Mariah flexed one arm. “Hey, I may be dainty, but I’m scrappy.”
Riker reached out and gently squeezed her bicep, his long fingers wrapping almost completely around her arm. Mariah’s heart jolted at the feel of his work-roughened hands on her skin. “I guess you are,” he said, admiration clear in his voice.
“Told ya.”
“I’m not really sure who is in charge of historical buildings, but the city planner is Valton White. He could probably give you some guidance. Want me to show you where his office is?”
Mariah nodded and he led her to a set of marble stairs with well-worn treads. The smell of his leather jacket filled her nose. Their shoulders brushed and her heart skipped. “What are you doing here?” she asked, moving slightly to put a little more space between them.
“Filling out forms,” he sighed. “We need permission to do an avalanche drop and of course there’s all kind of red tape. I’m very tired of filling out forms in triplicate, I’ll tell you that.”
Mariah stopped on the stairs. “Avalanche drop?”
“Yeah.” Riker shrugged. “I pilot a helicopter for the county and we need to drop a few charges over on Leavitt Peak, but we need clearance from the city since it’s in their jurisdiction.”
“The county has its own helicopter?”
“Well, we kind of share it with a couple of other counties, but we fly out of Billings,” Riker clarified.
“Oh.” They started up the stairs again.
“So do you only pilot the helicopter for avalanche control?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Avalanche control, geological surveys, wildlife studies, search and rescue … we stay busy.”
Mariah worked to fit this new aspect of Riker into the idea she’d already formed of him. Funny how she hadn’t thought of him as having an actual job. Somehow, whenever she’d pictured him—and she’d pictured him a lot in the last twenty-four hours—he was always dressed in camo, stomping through the woods. Okay yeah, yesterday morning he’d moved so quietly she hadn’t even heard him and if anyone had been stomping, it was her. But Riker stomping around seemed to fit.
They’d reached the top of the stairs. Mariah looked down the long hallway interspersed with carved wooden doors. The old-fashioned lights had stained glass shades, like Tiffany lamps. “This place seems lost to time,” she murmured.
“Yeah, around here we call it retro,” Riker teased. “I thought you’d like it.”
“I do like it,” she declared.
He stopped and gazed down at her, and her pulse picked up again. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” Mariah said. “I’m sorry for screaming.”
He flashed her a quick grin. “Yeah, well, you owe me a wildcat hunt.”
Why did such an innocent thing as a smile completely disarm her and make her knees tremble? “Bring it on,” she said with bravado.
“Really?” His eyes lit up again then he frowned. “Could be dangerous. And do you have the right gear?”
“Camo Barbie?” Mariah jabbed his arm with her finger.
“Exactly.” Riker grinned. They stared at each other for a moment longer, then he jerked his head down the hallway. “Third door on the right.”
“What?” Mariah was lost in the idea of spending a day with this man.
“The city planner. He’s the third door on the right.”
“Oh,” she stammered. “Okay, thank you.”
He nodded. “See ya around.” With a quick wave, he disappeared down the stairs.
“See ya,” Mariah whispered after him.
* * *
The city planner wasn’t in his office, so Mariah left a message with his secretary. She didn’t really care, though. This morning, finding out about the building’s history had been the most important thing on her mind; now there were other things to think about.
She hurried back to the boutique and burst through the door. “Sit,” she ordered Amy, pointing at the sofa. “We have to talk.”
Amy gave her a shocked look, but she put down the bottle of Windex she was holding and curled up in the corner of the couch. “What’s going on?”
Hurriedly, Mariah told her about the encounter with Riker. “So give me details,” she said. “Is this guy legit?”
“Um …”
Mariah’s heart sank. “Don’t say ‘um’! Never say ‘um,’” she pleaded.
“Well, I guess it depends on what you want,” Amy said quickly. “Jake met him two summers ago when they were fighting the fires and they hit it off. Jake’s the one who showed him around Snow Valley and he liked it so much that he moved here when he got the job with the county. He’s a great guy, it’s just … Jake tells me he dates a lot but won’t settle down with anyone. One of those scared of commitment types.” She gave Mariah a sympathetic look.
Mariah brushed her red manicured nails over her chin, her eyes narrowed in concentration. “I’m one of those scared of commitment types,” she pointed out to her cousin.
“Yes, but we are trying to fix that as best we can,” Amy said loftily.
“Nice try,” Mariah gave her a quick smile. “Not gonna happen. But it would be nice to go out with someone to just have some fun.”
Amy’s brown eyes lit up. “So it could be a good thing! Hey, we could even double date. And it’d be perfect because neither of you wants to get serious, but you can flirt and hang out and maybe get a little kissy.” She gave Mariah a fish face.
Mariah blushed. The thought of kissing Riker sent a thrill of anticipation racing through her. It would be nothing too serious and nothing that would go too far, just an innocent diversion. She was too busy with the store for a relationship and besides, true love was an illusion anyway, right?
She didn’t mention that last point to Amy as she nodded. “Yeah, it could be fun.”
Amy squealed in excitement. “Want me to have Jake set something up?”
“No,” Mariah said quickly. She wanted it to play out naturally, drawing it out slowly so she could savor all the little thrills that came with a new attraction. As long as they
both understood the rules, it could be fun.
Chapter 6
Mariah groaned as she slid one end of the heavy shelf unit away from the wall, sending up a cloud of dust from the old carpet. Despite several messages, she still hadn’t heard from Valton White at city hall, so she and Amy decided to go ahead and fix up the boutique without changing the structure. And that meant painting the walls.
“One more push,” Amy panted from the other end of the shelf. “One … two … three.”
Gasping, the two girls slid the shelf another few inches.
“I can’t believe how heavy it is,” Mariah moaned, looking up at the shelves, which towered several feet above her head. The floor to ceiling shelves had seemed like a good idea when they bought the boutique. But then they realized they weren’t built-ins, which mean they’d have to be moved.
“It’s pretty solid,” Amy rapped her knuckles on the wood. “We can handle it though. We’re tough, right?”
“Yup. Construction Barbie coming right up,” Mariah replied.
“What?” Amy giggled.
“Nothing.” Mariah said, biting her lip as a smile threatened to break over her face. Riker would totally call her Construction Barbie if he were here. Or maybe Renovation Barbie. And she’d be dressed the part in her cuffed overalls and short-sleeved blouse in yellow gingham, her hair pulled up in a matching do-rag. Vintage saddle shoes completed the look and the red on the shoes matched her bright red lipstick perfectly. Yep, Riker would have a field day with this outfit.
The wall behind the shelf was coated in grime and cobwebs.
“Gross,” Amy moaned. She eyed Mariah hopefully. “How about we just move it back and forget this ever happened? We can pretend they’re built-ins? Or I’ll get some nails and a hammer and turn them into built-ins.”
Mariah shook her head. “I’ll never be able to live with myself knowing we had the chance to clean it up and we didn’t.”
Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance) Page 47
