Snowbound Bride

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Sam shut the door behind them. He pivoted toward her, and his eyes lasered down into hers as he said, “Speaking of loved ones, Nora—do yours know where you are?”

  This, Nora hadn’t expected. Worse, the faxed message that she’d illegally intercepted from Sam’s office was burning a hole in Nora’s pocket. What would Sam do if he knew her father was searching for her at this moment? Would he call her dad? Nora wondered uneasily, trying not to think how much his mere presence was undoing her. “Um, actually—”

  His head lifted. He speared her with a gaze that raised her pulse another notch and pinned her to the spot. His eyes really were an incredible mixture of gold and brown.

  “Have you telephoned them to let them know you’re okay?” Sam persisted, edging close enough for Nora to inhale the scent of his cologne.

  Nora backed away, wishing he didn’t look and smell so good. “Not yet.”

  Sam lounged against his desk. “You can use my phone, if you’d like.”

  Nora forced a tight smile. “Thanks, but…no.”

  He regarded her steadily, seeming to disagree with her decision to keep her family in the dark about where she was for even a moment longer.

  “That fiancé of yours hurt you badly, didn’t he?”

  Nora shrugged and regarded him in the same bold manner in which he was regarding her. “Both my father and Geoff did.”

  “So in other words,” Sam retorted mildly, “you have no compunction about dishing it right back at them, by not calling and letting them know you’re all right.”

  Nora flushed guiltily, knowing that Sam was right. Both her father and Geoff had probably been very hurt and humiliated by the way she’d run off. But it was no worse than what they’d done to her, keeping her in the dark about the dowry. Like this was the Dark Ages, for heaven’s sake! She dug in her heels stubbornly and refused to give ground. “If I call them, they’ll want me to come back home.”

  “That makes sense,” he said as his gaze swept the snow-dusted length of her before returning to her face. “It sounds like you have a lot to straighten out.”

  Nora’s breasts rose and fell with each agitated breath she took. “They’ll also try to take advantage of me again, in a million and one ways.”

  Sam shrugged, as if that were hardly the point. “So don’t let them.”

  If only she could wave a magic wand and make that happen! Nora balled her hands into fists and struggled to get herself together. “It’s not that simple.”

  Sam straightened. His sensual mouth tightened with a disapproval that he made no effort to hide. “Yes, Nora, it is.”

  Nora pivoted away from him and stalked to the bulletin board with the Wanted posters. “You don’t understand.” You don’t know how long and hard I’ve already tried.

  He closed the distance between them wordlessly, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “Then explain it to me so I do,” he urged compassionately.

  Nora swallowed and looked up at him, knowing she wanted him to understand and even approve of her, even if she couldn’t yet tell him everything. “Sam, I—”

  Without warning, there was a loud, crackling pop, and then everything descended into darkness.

  “WHAT HAPPENED?” Nora asked, trembling. Frightened, she reached out for Sam.

  He tucked her against him, then moved to the window and looked out. As he’d suspected, the entire town was dark. “The electricity just went off,” he told Nora as he picked up a flashlight from the table in the corner and switched it on. “Some power lines were probably knocked out due to the ferocity of the blizzard. Maybe the phone and cable, too.”

  Sam picked up the phone. As he had feared, it was also dead.

  “How long before they’re fixed?” Nora shivered and stayed even closer.

  Sam shrugged. “The power lines will most likely be down for the duration of the snowstorm. It’ll probably be days before the phone service is restored to everyone.”

  Nora sighed and backed away from his arms. “So for the moment, anyway, you’re completely cut off from the outside world, then?”

  She sounded more pleased about that than she ought to be, Sam thought. Probably because, through no fault of her own, she’d just won herself a reprieve from having to deal with whatever it was she was running from. “We can still use our shortwave radios,” Sam told her, and tried not to feel bereft about the fact that he no longer held her in his arms. “We won’t be able to pick up much with our transistors, though. Reception in this area is poor, due to all the interference from the mountains.” He surveyed the office and found everything in order. “Might as well close up shop here.”

  “Can you do that?” Nora asked, staying close by his side. “I thought all police departments were open twenty-four hours a day.”

  Sam tried not to think about how much he liked having Nora with him, or how helpful she’d been out on that last call or how pretty she looked in a wedding gown. “In weather like this, even the criminals stay home and snuggle up by the fire.” Sam’s blood warmed as he thought about doing just that with Nora. “Besides, now that it’s past four o’clock, I am officially off duty. Clover Creek also employs two deputies. They’ll be taking the 4:00 p.m. to midnight and midnight to 8:00 a.m. shifts.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, Hank’s probably over at the fire station, checking in with them now.”

  “Still…with all the snow-related emergencies…” Nora hesitated. “Don’t you think we ought to wait here just a little while longer, in case you are needed?”

  Using the flashlight, Sam went around locking up. Outside, there was a good eight inches of snow on the ground, and more falling. “If I’m needed for backup, someone will call me on the shortwave radio. Besides, we can’t stay here. This building has no fireplace. We’ll have to go over to my grandparents’ home.” Sam wreathed an arm about her shoulders and led her toward the door.

  “Do they have a fireplace?” Nora asked.

  “Most of the rooms do,” Sam told her as he escorted her outside to his truck. The snow had started coming down in thick, heavy sheets. No wonder the power was out. It was a struggle to walk in the driving wind. He drove her to Whittakers, and helped her get her suitcase from her car. Realizing it was impossible to dig her car out at that point, they decided to leave it where it was for the time being, and then headed over to Sam’s grandparents’ home. Once again, the roads were hard to maneuver, even in a vehicle with a high wheelbase and four-wheel drive, and Sam’s truck fishtailed left and right down the street, losing traction as often as it gained it.

  THE WHITTAKER HOME was a charming old Victorian, surrounded by snow-covered trees. Looking as if it had come straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, the rambling three-story home was painted a soft slate blue and had white shutters and a glossy black door. A wrap-around veranda circled the entire first floor, a white picket fence the yard.

  Wood smoke curled from chimneys on either end of the home, and the windows were lit with the soft glow of candle-lanterns. Inside, the home was just as warm and cozy. Antiques were polished to a high gleam, chintz-covered furniture was deep and overstuffed and colorful rugs decorated the beautiful wood floors.

  While Sam carried in the suitcase she’d meant to take on her honeymoon, Nora paused in front of a collection of family photos on the grand piano in the living room. As Sam joined her, she nodded at a photo of Sam, Kimberlee, Gus and what appeared to be his parents, at a backyard barbecue. They were gathered around a grill, cooking together and laughing, obviously having a great time. “Are these your parents?”

  Sam nodded, his expression a mix of affection and grief. He picked up the photo and cradled it gently in his hand. “This was taken the summer before my parents died. It was the last time we were all together.”

  Nora’s heart went out to him. Having lost her own mother, she knew how much a parent’s death hurt. “What happened?” she asked softly.

  Sam untied his tie with one hand and loosened the fir
st button of his shirt. “They got caught in a fierce winter rainstorm, while they were driving up to Chicago to see me. A tractor-trailer crossed the median and hit their car and several others head-on. Everyone involved in the crash was killed instantly.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nora turned away from the photo and looked into his eyes. “That must’ve been tough.”

  Sam nodded, admitting, “It was. Is. I wish we’d spent more time together while we had the chance. I wish I’d come home that last Christmas, instead of working. If I had, they probably would have waited until later in the spring to come see me, instead of risking a trip in dubious weather in late February. Intellectually, of course, I know the accident could have happened anywhere, anytime. But in here—” Sam shook his head sadly and pointed to his heart “—I think I’m always going to regret the opportunities lost to us. The times I didn’t come home. The holidays I missed. The sheer physical distance I put between us, for the sake of my career. ’Cause, looking back, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t trade to have my folks here with me now. And I know Kimberlee, Gus, my grandparents, all feel the same.”

  Which was probably, Nora thought compassionately, why he was so gung ho about her contacting her own family.

  Sam nodded and put the photo back in its place. “We better see where everyone is,” he said.

  “Gran, Granddad, Kimberlee?” Sam called, as they moved through the spacious downstairs and ended up in a large country kitchen.

  “Here’s a note,” Nora said, picking it up from the counter. “And it’s addressed to the two of us.”

  “‘Dear Sam and Nora,’” Nora read out loud. “‘The three of us are going door-to-door to make sure all our elderly neighbors are set for the night with flashlights and batteries or candles and fires in their fireplaces. We’ll be back soon. If you get home before we do, maybe you could build the fires in the third-floor bedrooms for you and Nora. Love, Gran.’”

  “Well, we’ve got our orders,” Sam said. They donned their coats and gloves again, grabbed two canvas wood carriers and braved the cold winter wind and snow to trudge out into the backyard. Each of them brought in an armful of wood, and then Sam led the way up the stairs. “You and I will both be sleeping on the third floor.”

  Nora pushed the mental image of that aside. “Where will everyone else be sleeping?” she asked.

  “Second.” As they passed through that, Sam gave her a brief tour via candle-lantern, showing her the master bedroom where his grandparents slept, Kimberlee’s room, a sewing room for his grandmother and a study for his grandfather. All were lovingly decorated and maintained. “The third floor has two more bedrooms, a shared, connecting bath and separate enclosed storage area,” Sam said matter-of-factly as they carried the wood up the last of the stairs.

  Candle-lanterns had been lit up there, too, and they illuminated the entire third floor with a cozy glow that Nora found far too romantic for comfort.

  Sam’s only going to be one room away, Nora thought as she surveyed the room at the head of the stairs, and a shiver of sensual awareness ghosted down her spine.

  Unhappy with the sensual direction of her thoughts, she forced herself to concentrate on the specifics of her surroundings.

  The furniture was heavy and masculine. A roomy double bed, decorated with a tartan plaid spread, filled the center of the room. A police radio sat on the nightstand beside the bed. “This is the room you usually take when you stay over?” Nora guessed as Sam set his wood into the bucket beside the grate and then gallantly took charge of the wood she was carrying, too.

  “Right. Towels and so on are in here.” He pointed to a small linen closet as they passed the bathroom they would share. “And this is where you’ll be,” he said, leading the way past the aforementioned storage area door, down the short hall and into another superbly decorated room.

  It, too, featured a comfortable-looking double bed, with a masculine paisley spread. Intending to tell Sam what a lovely home his grandparents had, Nora turned around and nearly bumped into him. Startled by his nearness, she moved back. He held his ground. As Nora looked into his face, she could tell he wanted to kiss her again. What surprised her was that she wanted him to kiss her, too. And now that Sam knew for certain she was not his brother’s fiancée, there was nothing to stop him from making a move on her, nothing except the fact that his grandparents and Kimberlee could return and walk in on them at any time….

  Sam broke the staring match first. “Guess we better get those fires going,” he drawled, looking not nearly as chagrined by the temptation to dally as she was. “Can you handle the one in here?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Nora fibbed. Although her father had never wanted her to fiddle with the fireplaces at home—he considered it a man’s job and preferred to do it himself—she had watched him build a fire plenty of times. How hard could it be?

  Plenty hard, as it turned out. The logs were more unwieldy to arrange in the grate than she’d figured, but she experimented until she had successfully arranged them in a cross wise fashion, so that the air could circulate between them, then stuffed rolled news paper in the cracks. Remembering the stolen fax in her pocket, she glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, saw that Sam was still busy building his own fire, then rolled it up cylinder-style and stuck it in between the logs, too.

  Finished, she lit the fire and watched both the fax and the news paper take flame. Satisfied, she stepped back to watch the evidence of her theft blacken, inch by in criminating inch. Only when it had almost finished burning did she realize that something else was amiss. Was it her imagination, or was her room beginning to smell a little too smoky for comfort?

  Sam came rushing over. He took one look at the haze in the air and demanded, “Did you open the flue?”

  Nora whirled toward him. “The what?” she countered, confused.

  “Oh, damn,” Sam swore, rolling his eyes. “Open a window, quick,” he ordered. While Nora rushed to comply, Sam grabbed a small fire-retardant rug from in front of the fireplace and smothered the flames, knocking a roll of the still-burning news paper out onto the brick hearth in the process. Using the shovel and and-iron, Sam beat the remaining flames out on the hearth. Too late, Nora realized it wasn’t only news paper he had knocked onto the floor.

  Fearing it was what she’d been trying to discreetly burn, Nora reached for the half-burned fax with feigned casualness. “I’ll get that.”

  Sam beat her to the punch. “Your hands will get all sooty. What the—” He paused to identify a smudged but otherwise unharmed corner of the fax paper. The photo of Nora and the accompanying message had been burned away. But half the date and part of the phone number where the fax had originated were still legible on the corner of the page. Clearly, Nora thought, seeing it through Sam’s eyes, this was no news paper.

  Sam turned to Nora, his suspicion evident. “How did this get in here?” he demanded.

  Chapter Five

  NORA HITCHED in a breath, her heart hammering in her chest and her mouth unaccountably dry, as she snatched it back and wadded what was left of the burned fax into a sooty wad that effectively prevented further analysis.

  “I put it in there,” she announced haughtily, Realizing that since she’d been caught red-handed, she had no choice but to tell Sam as much of the truth as she dared. She tossed her head defiantly. “I’d been carrying it around in my pocket, and I didn’t want it anymore.”

  Sam’s glance roved over her upturned face. He was clearly trying to contain his suspicion, though not quite succeeding. “What was it?” he asked softly, as she tossed it carelessly back into the grate.

  Nora glowered at him. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, even as she struggled to get a handle on her soaring emotions. “A message from someone who works for my father that has to do with me.” She spun away from him and stalked away. Pivoting smartly on her heel, she folded her arms in front of her and whirled to face him. “Satisfied?”

  With a sinking heart, she real
ized that it didn’t appear so, but Sam never had a chance to reply. The sound of a door slamming downstairs had them springing farther apart.

  “Yoo-hoo! Sam! Nora! We’re home.”

  “We better go down,” Nora said, wanting the emotional inquisition to end.

  “In a minute,” Sam decreed, then paused to shout an acknowledgment to his grandparents, indicating that they’d be downstairs directly. His eyes on hers, he continued, “First, I want to open the flue.”

  While Nora watched, Sam leaned into the fireplace and swiftly accomplished what she had foolishly failed to do. Realizing that the smoke in the room had cleared—if not the lingering tension between the two of them—Nora sprinted over and closed the window. Sam rebuilt and relit the fire, leaving the wadded-up fax where it lay.

  Moments later, satisfied that all was going as it should, and no more smoke was entering the room, he stood and dusted off his hands. “We better wash up,” he said.

  Her head held high, her body tingling all over, she brushed past Sam. They washed up wordlessly, then headed swiftly down the stairs. Sam kept eyeing her, but said nothing more about the fax. Nora wondered whether he knew the fax had come from his office, or just suspected it had. The partial phone number, the date and the time were dead giveaways. The question was, how much of it had he actually been able to read before she snatched the offending evidence of her crime away?

  There was no clue on his face as Nora and Sam entered the homey kitchen. “All the neighbors settled for the night?” Sam asked, helping Kimberlee set the table for dinner, while his grandmother and grandfather brought over steaming bowls of minestrone and plates of thick, hearty sandwiches.

  Though they did not have electricity, Nora noted as she took the seat Harold indicated that the Whittakers’ large gas stove appeared to be working just fine.

  Clara nodded. “What about you two? Did you start the fires in the guest rooms’ fireplaces?”

  Those and more, Nora thought, aware that she was still tingling from the close proximity to Sam. And he hadn’t even touched her, or made another attempt to kiss her.