The cat followed Mariah to the small bathroom off the storage room and wound around her ankles as she brought back its dish full of water. It attacked the plate of canned food with happy little growls and was soon busy eating, ignoring both of them.
“If I borrow Uncle Brad’s truck, I should be able to come in later today, don’t you think?” Mariah asked as they took a quick walk through the main room.
“Hard to say,” Riker replied. “The plows are usually pretty good at keeping the roads clear, but I’ve never been in a storm this big in Snow Valley before. I could come get you if you need a ride.”
“That’s such a long way in this weather; you don’t have to,” Mariah said. “I’m sure I can figure something out.”
She checked the front doors were still locked, then led him back through the storage room, where she stopped to put out a few more bowls of food and water. “Be good, sweetie,” Mariah said to the cat, giving it a scratch under the chin as they left.
“I hate to leave her there,” she said once they were back in the truck. “But Uncle Brad’s allergic to cats, so she can’t come to the house. As soon as I get my own place, though, I’ll move her in.”
“You’re getting your own place?” Riker asked.
“Eventually,” Mariah sighed. “We have to get the boutique open and making money first though. Once the wedding’s over, maybe Amy will have more time to work her magic with the marketing. She’s got some great ideas, just no time to put them into action.” She flashed him a quick smile. “We’ll see.”
He walked her to the door of Amy’s house, but declined her invitation to come inside. He didn’t want to sit making small talk with Mariah’s relatives. He wanted some alone time so he could think about what was happening and where it was going. He hadn’t been looking for love, but sometimes it just reaches out and grabs you.
Chapter 12
Mariah had never been snowed in before and she found the novelty quickly wore off. Uncle Brad couldn’t get to work and school was canceled—which Timothy assured her almost never happened in Snow Valley. With everyone home all the time, the house felt too full, especially as everyone became increasingly bored and cranky. More than once, she found herself wishing she’d stayed at Riker’s. Maybe they could have gone fishing again. Maybe he’d gone again without her. Maybe he was there now, snug and warm in the tent pulling up bluegills to cook for dinner. The memory made her chest ache with longing.
Amy was like a hound on a trail and peppered her constantly with questions about what had gone on between them. Despite Mariah’s best efforts to put her cousin off, Amy seemed to know there was more to the story than Mariah would admit.
“So you went fishing, got back to the cabin, had dinner, and kissed,” Amy pressed early on the morning of Mariah’s second day back. “Then what?”
Mariah groaned. “I already told you. We kissed, then he went to his room and I slept on the couch, that’s all.” She concentrated on buttering her toast, afraid Amy would read all she’d left unsaid in her eyes—that it was the most amazing kiss she’d ever experienced. That she’d wanted to stay in his arms forever. That for one wild moment, she’d let herself forget this was supposed to just be in fun.
But she couldn’t forget because that would be stupid and she was determined not to be a stupid girl. Whenever her daydreams started to get the better of her, she’d pull up the conversation they’d had while fishing. He was the love ‘em and leave ‘em type and wouldn’t let himself get in to deep. He didn’t want starlight kisses and fairytale daydreams and happily ever afters.
And neither did she. Not since the day when she was nine years old and missing her father. She’d gone to her mother for sympathy, but found none.
“All men leave,” her mother had said, her eyes hardening as they always did whenever Mariah mentioned her dad. “I’ve never met one who didn’t eventually get tired of a woman.”
Mariah stirred her SpaghettiOs in her plastic Princess Jasmine bowl, her mind churning over what she knew about her friends and family. “Amy’s daddy didn’t leave,” she pointed out. “And Becky’s parents are divorced, but her dad still comes to her baseball games and takes her to McDonalds. Dads still love their kids, right?”
Anger flashed across her mother’s face. “Look around,” she’d snapped, waving one arm around their tiny apartment. “Does it look like he loves his kid? If he did, where is he?”
No, Mariah wouldn’t be a stupid girl and let herself fall for a man, especially one she already knew wouldn’t stick around. “Riker and I are friends,” she told Amy firmly. “That’s all.”
* * *
Mariah locked the front door of the boutique and flipped the sign to “closed.” She stood still a moment, sighing in satisfaction as she looked over the darkened room. They’d pushed hard in the week since the big snowstorm and their work was paying off. The ceiling was still awful, but the buttery yellow walls provided the perfect backdrop to the newly painted white shelves that held much of their inventory.
As for inventory, they still carried a good assortment of scarves and shawls, but they’d swapped the mass produced peasant dresses for a rack of Tracie Brandenberg’s beautiful handmade skirts. They’d traded the novelty rocks and kitschy knick-knacks for some of Chet Bauer’s horseshoe artwork, as well as genuine dream catchers and beaded jewelry sold by a Native American artist in Billings.
And the best part, in her opinion—the reading corner. The ratty couch had cleaned up nicely and was part of a cozy arrangement near the window with tall bookshelves crammed with new and used books. The books were for sale, but the couch beckoned shoppers to sit and read, stay for a while. It added just the right touch of homeyness to the store. They’d even talked about putting in a hot chocolate machine.
There was still plenty of work to do—the ceiling for sure, the floors were still in need of refinishing, but the hardwood they’d found under the carpet would do for now, and Mariah still dreamt of knocking down walls, but she could wait. The important thing was they were finally open and traffic was picking up. Just today Mercedes Bauer and her sister Cat had been in to see Chet’s work and had left with several bags of jewelry, clothes, and books. The day before, Missy Wilson had bought an expensive beaded necklace and Cameron Elliott had taken home three of Tracie’s skirts.
Mariah smiled and moved back to the counter where she pulled out her tablet and started totaling the day’s receipts. It would take a while to get into the black, but they were on their way. Her mind churned through dreams and possibilities. They’d talked about branching out to antiques, but that could wait until after the wedding. Knowing Amy, she’d be in la-la-land for a while even after the honeymoon, but Mariah was pretty sure she could handle things at the boutique until Amy surfaced.
What she couldn’t handle, was Riker. It had been a week since the storm, since she’d stayed over at his cabin, since they’d kissed. He and Jake brought her car back the day the storm ended and they’d exchanged a few texts, but Mariah had used the excuse of the boutique and the wedding to draw back and put some distance between them. This was supposed to be all in fun, but it didn’t feel that way. The tingles that shot through her when she remembered his kisses and the ache in her chest to be back in his arms felt much more serious than that.
She spent the next hour going over spreadsheets, then filled Lana Turner’s bowls and locked up for the night, exiting the store through the back door into the alley.
“That wildcat is back, wanna go track it?”
Mariah jumped and spun around. Riker leaned against the wall, bathed in the light over the door. His hands were sunk deep into the pockets of his leather jacket.
“You scared me!” Her heart was pounding partially from the scare, but mostly because he looked so sexy. The urge to be in his arms and go up on tiptoe to press her lips to his was almost overwhelming, but she held herself back.
“Are you avoiding me?” He pushed off from the wall and came toward her, his face shadowed w
ith doubt.
“No,” Mariah said hastily. “I’m just really busy and I …” She trailed off. She didn’t want to lie to him.
“That’s not it,” his eyes searched hers. “What’s really going on?”
She wrenched her gaze away and stared at a spot on the wall over his shoulder where one of the bricks was a much lighter color than the rest.
“I don’t … I can’t get in over my head,” she finally said.
“Over your head with what?” Riker asked. “With us?”
Her palms turned clammy. For one wild moment she imagined how it could be if there were an us, the two of them facing the world together.
Then her mother’s words echoed in her head.
All men leave.
“Us? There is no us,” she said.
“Wait … what?” Confusion filled his face. “Yes there is. Mariah, I’m crazy about you. You have to know that.”
She took a step back, shaking her head. “Nope. You can’t say that. That’s not part of the deal.”
His eyebrows swooped together in a scowl. “What deal?”
“Love ‘em and leave ‘em,” she replied. “You said it yourself, when we were fishing. You told me you didn’t get in too deep, didn’t want to get involved.”
He was silent a moment, his brow knitted as if he were trying to remember, then he shook his head. “I didn’t mean never. I meant I hadn’t wanted to get involved with anyone before now.” He gave her a steady look. “Before you.”
Her mind whirled; something was going terribly wrong. “But this wasn’t … you’re not …” she struggled. “Riker, I don’t want a relationship, and even if I did, I’m not going to get into anything serious with someone like you.”
“Wait. Someone like me? What does that mean?”
“You like the chase. You’re in it for the game … the hunt, or whatever you want to call it.”
“You think I’m a player?” he asked, his face darkening with anger. “What have I ever done to make you think that?”
“Well, Amy said you’ve had a lot of girlfriends and I figured …” She stared at the bricks again.
“Amy.” Riker snorted. “So you believe her over me?”
“You said yourself that you didn’t want anything serious,” Mariah pointed out again, starting to realize just how flimsy her evidence was. “And you sure pulled up Tracie’s number on your phone quickly enough the day we were talking about ties. I thought it was weird that you’d have her number stored in your phone, but Amy said you’ve been out with almost every single girl in the valley so I guess it makes sense.”
“Not every girl,” he said, a note of heat in his voice. “Tracie and I dated a few times. It didn’t work out, but we’re still friends. And that doesn’t make a player.”
“Well then, we can be friends,” Mariah said. “But … I don’t want to get hurt.”
There was a long silence.
“Not every guy is like your dad,” Riker finally said softly.
Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them back fiercely, unsure of what to say.
He sighed and looked at her steadily, with storm clouds in his gray eyes. “Well, I guess if that’s what you want, I’m not going to beg. Just know this … I’m not a player, despite what Amy says. And I’d never met a woman who I wanted to spend an entire day shut up in a little tent on a frozen lake before. I’ve never met someone like you before.”
She wanted to shake off this fear and plunge ahead, to throw herself into his arms and never let go. But she felt frozen. “I’m sorry. I …”
“Forget it,” he growled. Without another word, he spun on his heel and stalked away to where his truck was parked at the end of the alley. He climbed in and slammed the door, then took off into the darkness.
Chapter 13
Mariah tried to tell herself it was for the best. A breakup would have happened sooner or later and it was probably good to get it over with. But her heart was heavy and everything seemed a little duller than it had before. The sun wasn’t as warm and the snow didn’t sparkle in quite the same way. She missed Riker and there was a dull ache in her chest as she drove to Billings to pick up her mother from the airport three days before the wedding.
Stacie Lacoste was only two years older than Aunt Janice, but looked about a decade beyond her sister. Stress and lots of time in the Florida sun had aged her beyond her years. Her attitude didn’t help much either.
“You look like a pinup girl,” she said, casting a critical eye over Mariah’s purple and black plaid skirt and matching sweater.
“It’s retro, Mom,” Mariah said in a quiet voice. Her mother had never approved of her sense of style and it would do no good to start an argument now.
“Well, I think that sweater’s a little tight,” Stacie muttered. “And those shoes are totally inappropriate for winter.”
It sounded like something Riker would say. Only his comment would have been accompanied by a teasing smile and an offer to find her an overlarge snowsuit so she’d be warm. She thought of ice fishing and swallowed hard as a fresh wave of pain hit.
“So, how’s the store going?” Stacie asked as they drove through Billings.
“Kind of a slow start, but we’re getting there,” Mariah replied, forcing her attention back to the road.
Stacie watched the scenery mostly in silence on the way to Snow Valley, where they went straight to Amy’s house. It was painful to see how much her mother’s presence affected everyone for the worse. Aunt Janice wore a tight smile as over dinner while Stacie criticized everything from the food to the lighting.
“How’s your job going, Mom?” Mariah asked quickly, noticing Amy’s deepening scowl.
“Oh, fine,” Stacie sighed. “Always busy, but I guess that’s a good thing.” She was an account manager for one of the big oil companies in Florida and though she didn’t enjoy the work, she stuck with it for the good benefits package, including several weeks of time off every year.
After dinner they spent some time on wedding plans, but Mariah was glad to call it an early night. Being around her mother made her feel vulnerable, constantly judged, and vaguely guilty. As if Stacie was watching her, expecting to see signs of the man who had walked out mirrored in his daughter. If Mariah stayed Snow Valley and never returned to Florida, would her mother see that as a betrayal as well?
* * *
The wedding rehearsal was scheduled on Wednesday night, two days before the wedding. Mariah marked the date on the calendar she kept behind the register where she had to see it every day, looming with more menace than the actual wedding day. After more than a week, she’d finally see Riker again. They’d had no contact since their fight, though Mariah pulled up his number several times a day on her phone and sat staring at it—tempted to call, but not knowing what to say and terrified he’d hang up on her. There had been no mistaking the pain in his gray eyes. She’d hurt him.
She groaned and Lana Turner, who was curled in her bed by Mariah’s stool, looked up from giving herself a bath.
“What am I supposed to do?” Mariah asked the cat with a note of panic in her voice. “I can’t do this; I can’t fall in love with him. But … I think I already have.” She buried her face in her hands.
There was a soft meow and a thump as Lana Turner jumped onto the counter. She rubbed against Mariah’s arms and nudged at her hands with a cold little nose.
Mariah lifted her head and reached out to scratch between the cat’s ears. Lana Turner flopped down on the counter with a contented squeak and began purring.
“What if I do love him?” Mariah whispered to the cat. “What then?”
She thought over everything that had happened between them. Riker obviously cared about her, a lot. And she could see now that he wasn’t a player; he wasn’t going to leave like her dad.
And … neither was she.
Her fingers stilled in the cat’s fur as the realization hit. She wasn’t afraid Riker would leave, she was afraid she would leave. Tha
t somewhere along the way, something would snap inside her just like it had in her father and she’d bail on people who loved her, causing them the same pain she’d faced her whole life. The pain of being judged unworthy.
But she wasn’t her dad. She wasn’t someone who walked out with no explanation; she was someone who moved across the country because her cousin wanted to open a boutique.
She wasn’t someone who left people she was supposed to love; she was someone who would ruin her boots and get her car stuck in the snow making sure the people she loved didn’t get hurt.
Lana Turner nudged her hand and Mariah smiled faintly and resumed stroking the soft fur.
She wasn’t someone who shut her heart against everyone. She opened her arms and adopted stray cats and gave them a home. She could give love; she’d been doing it this whole time. And it wasn’t a stretch to imagine her feelings for Riker could blossom into a love that would grow bigger and bigger until in encompassed her whole life.
Suddenly the rehearsal didn’t seem like a chore to dread. Instead, it was her chance to see Riker, to take him aside and set things right. To apologize and then prove to him how much she cared. Her stomach tingled at the thought of being in his arms again.
Mariah had been planning to go straight to the church from the store, but now she hurried to lock up the store, her mind already sorting through her closet, trying to decide on the perfect outfit to wear.
Lights glowed in the Snow Valley Community Church and Riker’s truck was already in the parking lot when Mariah arrived. She closed her eyes and whispered a quick prayer that everything would go as planned tonight, that he’d give her a chance to say what was in her heart and she’d be able to find the right words.
When she opened the side door to the church, the smell of fresh-baked rolls filled her nose and her stomach growled. They would have the dinner after the rehearsal in the church’s large multipurpose room. She stopped in the restroom to make sure her hair and makeup were perfect, glad she’d chosen the pale pink dress with a skirt that made her waist look tiny and swished in a way that made her want to twirl.
Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance) Page 52
