Snowbound Bride

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Snowbound Bride Page 3

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  “That’s a lovely wedding dress….” Kimberlee said.

  “Thanks.” Nora smiled at the teen as she selected a warm green-and-black wool scarf and matching insulated mittens and carried them to the counter.

  “Getting married soon?” Clara Whittaker asked, smiling all the more.

  “I was hoping to…” Nora said honestly. Someday, when I met my Mr. Right.

  Smiling broadly, Clara Whittaker looked behind Nora. While her husband began ringing up Nora’s purchase, Clara smoothed a hand down the folds of her neat corduroy shirtdress. Her light brown eyes twinkling merrily, she said, “I don’t see your groom.”

  Nora gave them all an it’s-a-long-story, one-I’m-really-not-at-liberty-to-reveal look. “My…er…um…groom is not here with me right now,” she said finally, after a great deal of wrestling with her conscience.

  “Do you know when he’ll be here?” Kimberlee asked inquisitively, taking the sensors off Nora’s purchases.

  “No, I don’t know when—” or even if, Nora amended silently “—he’ll catch up with me. Probably not before the storm descends upon us full blast, though.”

  Deciding to change the subject before any more questions were asked of her that required honest—if uncomfortable—replies, Nora turned to the framed poster of Gus Whittaker and two of the New York Knicks displayed on the wall. “Are you related to the Gus Whittaker?”

  Clara and Harold nodded proudly as Harold bagged Nora’s purchases. “He’s our grandson.”

  “Really,” Nora said. So Gus Whittaker was the one who’d been talking about Clover Creek. That was why she remembered it. Why was everyone grinning as though they knew a secret or something? she wondered.

  Nora searched through her billfold and extricated enough cash to pay for her purchases. “I met him several years ago, when I was working for Leland and Brooks, an advertising agency in New York City. Several of Gus’s clients were—are—celebrity spokespersons for L and B’s key accounts. Hence, Gus and his celebrity clients were invited to all the L and B parties. And, well, you know Gus.” Nora smiled and gestured inanely. “He makes it a point to seek out all the young, available females.”

  “Did the two of you hit it off, right from the first moment you met?” Kimberlee asked, stars in her eyes.

  Nora flushed; she didn’t know quite how to answer that. Clearly, Gus’s whole family adored him, and they seemed to have already decided that was what had happened. “Well, yes,” Nora replied carefully after a moment. Then she hastened to add, “Although that first meeting was pretty hectic, with all the people at the party, the noise and the confusion…”

  “Of course…” Everyone nodded.

  A bell sounded, signaling that someone else had come into the store. Nora turned, her jaw dropping open slightly as she saw the sexy sheriff she’d met earlier stride toward the group. She stared at the lawman as he walked across the polished wood floor, hardly able to believe they’d crossed paths again!

  “But later you got to know Gus better…?” Clara asked.

  Nora had temporarily lost her hearing, her sense of sight draining all her other faculties.

  Her heart pounding, she turned away from the sexy sheriff, who was heading her way. “Um, yes, I guess you could say that.” Nora smiled at Gus’s family, wanting to say something pleasant about the Whittakers’ grandson. “Everyone in the sports management business tries to emulate Gus these days—he’s that successful.” If unconventional in the extreme… “And a very nice guy, as well.”

  Again, everyone beamed proudly at the compliments Nora bestowed on Gus.

  A quick glance revealed that the sheriff was talking to other shoppers in the store, but he still had Nora in his sights. Whether he was on to the particulars of her plight or not, Nora could not tell.

  “So, when’s Gus arriving in Clover Creek?” Harold asked as the sheriff eventually came to a halt beside Nora and the others.

  Nora blinked, as thrown by the abrupt switch in topics as she was by the lawman’s deliberate pursuit of, and proximity to, her. “I really couldn’t say,” she replied, somewhat hoarsely, not sure why they were asking her that. “I haven’t talked to Gus lately.”

  “But you will soon?” Clara pressed. As the lawman stepped even closer to her, Nora was inundated by the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne.

  “I—don’t know,” Nora hedged slowly, not wanting to hurt or offend any of Gus’s family.

  Harold smiled, looked at the sheriff, and then back at Nora. “Have you met Sam yet?”

  Nora blinked. “Who?”

  Harold winked at Nora slyly, even as he gestured at the sheriff warmly. “Our other grandson!”

  Nora took a calming breath as she and the sheriff stared at each other in contemplative silence. Oh, no—no! “You’re—?”

  “Gus Whittaker’s younger brother, Sam,” he confirmed with a tantalizing grin as he swaggered closer and his gaze moved across her upturned face. “And you’re…?”

  Suffused with heat everywhere his eyes had roved, Nora swallowed and stepped back. “Nora,” she said simply, deciding to leave it at that. Dear heaven, this was a complication she did not need. Especially now!

  “Nora,” Sam repeated, as if liking the sound of her name. He studied her, then asked, in a soft, low voice laced with laughter, “Do you have a last name?”

  “Yes,” Nora replied, as she looked into his golden-brown eyes with all the directness she could muster. “It’s…”

  “She’s one of Gus’s very good, shall we say, friends, from New York City,” Harold supplied helpfully.

  “Wait,” Nora corrected hastily, holding up a palm in traffic-cop fashion. “I never said Gus and I were actually, you know, buddies—” She and Gus were more like acquaintances. Remote acquaintances.

  “We know you didn’t, dear,” Clara patted her arm forgivingly.

  “We know Gus would want to tell us himself,” Harold beamed.

  “Tell you what?” Nora wheezed, perplexed.

  “About his plans, of course,” Clara said.

  Nora regarded the Whittakers cautiously. She felt as if she’d landed in a TV sitcom. One of the wacky, humor-filled kinds that didn’t necessarily have to make a lot of sense. “What are you talking about?” she demanded warily, already dreading the reply.

  “Sweetheart, it’s all right, we know,” Harold counseled her warmly.

  Sensing that whatever they were talking about, they were deadly serious, Nora fought to contain her mounting exasperation. “Know what?” she cried, upset.

  Clara beamed, her own happiness evident. “You’re Gus’s fiancée!”

  Chapter Two

  NORA TOOK A deep breath and tried, as nicely as possible, to explain. “I know there’s been a lot of confusion today, what with the storm and all, but Gus and I are not getting married, today or any other day.”

  All around her, faces fell in obvious disappointment.

  “Then why are you in that dress?” Kimberlee Whittaker asked, perplexed, as she propped her hands on her waist. “And why did you come to Clover Creek at precisely 3:30 this afternoon?”

  Good question, Nora thought. She could just as easily have gone the other way back at the crossroads. What had brought her here to Clover Creek? she wondered. Destiny?

  Sam’s eyes held hers. “I’d like to hear the answer to that myself,” he drawled.

  Nora knew she was not going to get anyone to help her unjam the zipper and get out of the dress until she explained. “I’m afraid there’s been some misunderstanding,” Nora said, looking straight at Sam. Who seemed, oddly enough, to be the only one not harboring a hope that she would change course and marry Gus. She paused to draw a bracing breath. “I don’t know where everyone got the idea I’m in love with your brother,” she began, uncomfortably embarrassed, “but I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth! Gus and I are…” Nora groped for a way to explain. “Well, friends, sort of, and that’s all!”

  At that, everyone regard
ed her so skeptically that it was all Nora could do not to groan out loud. “No one believes me, do they?” she asked Sam as a curious group of customers gathered round.

  “Wouldn’t appear so, no.” Sam paused, his glance sliding over her approvingly before returning to focus on the self-conscious flush in her cheeks. “But there’s a simple way to clear this up. Just explain who you are, where you’re from and who you were really planning to marry today.”

  Nora was tired of men telling her what to do! She crossed her arms in front of her and stubbornly dug in her heels. “I don’t see why I have to explain anything,” she retorted mutinously. Hadn’t she already revealed enough of her private life?

  Sam shrugged. “Then don’t.”

  “Fine.” Nora shrugged right back at him. Deciding she’d looked into the depths of his eyes long enough, she turned her glance away. “I won’t.”

  “But if you want to calm all the questions about you and Gus and what might or might not be going on,” Sam continued, “you will.”

  And have someone then take it upon himself to decide to play hero and call her father? As much as the dutiful-daughter part of her wanted to allay her father’s worries, the part of her that had had enough knew she could not deal with her dad, not yet. Forgetting for a moment all the others gathered around them, Nora regarded Sam sternly. “Look, I already told you my wedding was called off,” she said, making no effort to hide her exasperation with him.

  “When did this happen?” Clara asked, as even more customers gathered round to hear.

  “At the tourist station on the freeway, an hour ago,” Nora replied in an aside.

  “You two met?” Harold gasped.

  “Briefly,” Sam acknowledged reluctantly, his glance still heating her like a fleece blanket.

  “And what little I said to you then is really all I intend to say on the matter,” Nora continued firmly. Like it or not, Sam and the Whittakers and everyone else in Clover Creek were all just going to have to accept that.

  Fortunately for her, just then the phone began to ring.

  Her stunned gaze still on Nora, Clara picked up the receiver. “Whittakers Department Store,” Clara said, then broke into a broad grin. “Gus, darling! We’ve all been waiting to hear from you! Hang on a minute, dear, while I put you on the speakerphone,” Clara said. She punched a few buttons and paused to confirm that he was still there before continuing, “Now, where are you, sweetheart?”

  “Stuck in the city!” Gus Whittaker shouted from the other end. In the background, a horn blared and brakes squealed. The moment the background noise subsided, Gus lowered his voice and asked, somewhat anxiously, “Listen, Gran, did the pretty lady arrive okay?”

  Everyone turned to Nora and grinned, as if her “secret” had been revealed.

  She couldn’t help it; she blushed.

  “I’m happy to report the pretty lady is here, and all in one piece!” Clara replied cheerfully. “But I must say we’d all be a little happier if you had only been here to witness her arrival, too!”

  “I know, but—” Gus uttered a wistful sigh, then chuckled. “Isn’t she a beaut?”

  “And then some,” Sam replied, with no hint of irony, as he turned back to Nora.

  Her pulse automatically increased.

  “You’ll take good care of her until I can arrive?” Gus continued to worry on the other end. “Find some place safe and warm and dry for her to stay? Maybe over at your house, Gran?”

  “Don’t you worry, Gus. We’ll make room for her,” Sam said.

  “Great.” On the other end, Gus breathed an audible sigh of relief. “When I get there, we’ll see about changing her name.”

  At that, winks and nods were exchanged all around. Sam regarded her intently. Nora, helpless to prevent what they were all concluding, could only roll her eyes.

  More horns sounded in the background, on the other end of the line. “Well, listen, I better go—” Gus said.

  Clara frowned. “Wait. Don’t you want to talk to anyone else?” she asked her grandson quickly. Meaning me, of course, Nora thought.

  “Gee, I’d love to, Gran,” Gus replied, “but…” A horn blared, obliterating his voice. Gus swore as the sounds of sirens increased in the background. “There’s an…” Static crackled. “…ambulance…” Brakes squealed. “…trying to…” Another horn blared. “…get through…” The siren rose to an earsplitting shriek before it faded slightly. “…later,” Gus said in a muffled tone.

  The click of the connection being severed was followed by utter silence, as once again all eyes turned Nora’s way.

  “I really don’t know what to say,” she said, blushing. She knew what they were thinking. She could hardly blame them. It had sounded as if Gus were talking about a woman arriving, as a surprise to his family, and since she was the only newcomer around, for the moment, anyway, they were assuming—quite wrongly, as it happened—that it was her.

  “That’s all right, dear, you don’t have to say another word,” Clara Whittaker said, patting Nora’s hand gently. “I think we’ve all figured out what’s going on.”

  Everyone looked at each other. After a moment, they all began to grin and talk at once. “It really is obvious,” someone put in finally.

  A farmer in overalls and a bill cap chuckled merrily. “The pretty lady here and Gus had a fight—”

  “He was probably late getting out of the city—like he said on the phone just now,” added a woman in a parka and jeans.

  “And then, naturally, their plans got all messed up—” a teen Kimberlee’s age said.

  “Who wouldn’t be ticked off?” a white-haired woman put in indignantly. “Gus should have put her—and their impending nuptials—first on their wedding day.”

  “Typical Gus, though,” said a nicely dressed young woman with a toddler in tow. “Business first, then pleasure.”

  Another woman, in an upscale running suit and sneakers, chuckled. “’Course, he makes up for it when he does party. There’s no one who can throw a bash like Gus!”

  Nora threw up her hands in frustration and broke into the conversation. “For the last time, everyone! I am not engaged to Gus Whittaker!”

  “Not anymore,” a handsome young man in construction clothes said, grinning and nodding at the bare ring finger on Nora’s left hand.

  “Don’t worry, honey, when he shows up and proposes all over again, I’m sure he’ll bring you your ring,” an older man added.

  “Unless…” Clara paused, a worried look on her face. “You didn’t throw it away in a fit of pique, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t throw it away!” Nora exclaimed stiffly as she tightened her grip on her package and started to brush by Sam. “Because I never had a ring from him in the first place.”

  Kimberlee Whittaker gasped as Sam stepped back slightly to allow Nora to pass.

  “All the more reason to delay the nuptials, then,” Kimberlee said indignantly.

  “Really,” another woman added fervently, in support. “Gus should get you a ring, and we—his friends and neighbors—will make sure he does.”

  Nora groaned, and shot a glance at Sam, who was still regarding her with an interest that had little, if anything, to do with local law enforcement. With an effort, she tore her eyes from his and turned back to the crowd gathered round her. “Trust me. If Gus shows up before I leave Clover Creek, and that in itself is doubtful, given the fact Gus’s still in New York City as we speak, Gus is not going to ask me to marry him. Not in a million years,” she promised them all firmly.

  Sam Whittaker continued to contemplate her—and her current predicament. “The breakup was that harsh?” Sam asked, in a low, sexy voice that sent shivers down Nora’s spine.

  “There was no breakup,” Nora said, looking straight at Sam, before finishing in utter exasperation, “We were never together.”

  SAM KNEW no one else in the store did, but he believed Nora, for a variety of reasons. He also thought, from the guilty way she was flushing an
d the slightly nervous way she was behaving, that she was hiding a lot more than she was telling, and that she might need help. His help. In any case, it was almost certain that there were a lot of people worried about her.

  Unlike Nora, however, he did not believe in running from problems; he knew predicaments were best dealt with directly. He hoped, before she left Clover Creek, to convince her of that, too. And perhaps reunite her with her friends and family, as well.

  “Then who were you engaged to?” Sam asked Nora, aware that he really wanted to know not just that, but everything about her. Furthermore, he hoped she’d tell him more about herself, now that she’d seen firsthand how insatiably curious the small, friendly West Virginia community could be.

  “I’d rather not say, Sam.”

  “How about your last name, then?”

  She glared at him for a moment. “I don’t see what that matters—”

  “It does if you’re going to be staying here. Unless there’s a reason you don’t want any of us to know who you really are.” He was baiting her, anxious to see her reaction to that.

  Nora’s mouth opened in a round O of surprise then snapped shut. She paused, looking as reluctant as any runaway would, but in the end, as he’d figured she would, came through.

  “It’s Hart-Kingsley. Nora Hart-Kingsley. My mother’s name was Hart, my father’s Kingsley. I ended up with both family names. Satisfied?”

  Sam grinned. “It’s a start,” he said. Although he would need a lot more than that, if he was going to be able to help her.

  Dr. Ellen Maxwell stepped between Sam and Nora, swiftly introducing herself as the town physician before saying, “If you want me to put my two cents in, I think it’s just as well the nuptials get delayed awhile, anyway. The weather would not make it easy for any out-of-town guests—never mind the groom—to get here.”

  “And besides, if you’re going to be a part of the Whittaker clan, you need time to get to know the rest of us, too,” Kimberlee said.

 

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