Snowbound Bride

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “I see.” Sam gently stroked her hair. “So now that you’re in a crisis situation again, you’re back to doing something you know’ll upset him to make your points with him.”

  Nora laced her arms around his neck. She was confused about many things, but not about this. “That’s not why I kissed you the way I did, Sam,” she said. And she didn’t want him thinking it was. “Then why?”

  Nora sucked in her breath at the unexpected gentleness in his voice, and moved back slightly, settling her weight more com fort ably on his lap. “Sure you want to know?”

  He nodded, every inch of him taut, demanding and ready to kiss again. “Yes.”

  The moment drew out as she gazed into his eyes. The compassion and willingness to understand that she saw there gave her a courage she’d never dreamed she had. For the first time in her life, she dared to proceed on a wing and a prayer. “Because I’m attracted to you in a way that I’ve never been to anyone before,” she admitted, speaking straight from her heart, with a galvanizing honesty that she knew might change their lives forever. “And I want to explore it,” she said as a self-conscious color filled her cheeks. “I want to know firsthand what all the books and movies and songs are about.” More than anything, she wanted to be loved, and to love in return. If she had done that earlier—found this earlier—maybe what happened with Geoff would never have happened!

  “And you think I can show you that?” Sam asked as he took her hand and gently kissed the inside of her wrist.

  Nora nodded, her blood heating at the feel of his warm lips caressing her skin. “I think you’re the only one who can show me.” Wanting him to understand, she rushed on, doing her best to explain. “For as far back as I can remember, I’ve been so busy working and trying to prove myself that I’ve missed so much of the wonderful, pleasurable things in life, and now here I am, practically spinster age, with absolutely nothing to show for it on the personal side—and…and I don’t want to be that way anymore, Sam. I don’t want to be a person who only has their work. I want to have something else, too.” I want to have you.

  Sam interrupted her fiercely, pulling her closer. “You’re not old, Nora. And you’re certainly not a spinster.”

  About that, they were not bound to agree. “Trust me, Sam,” Nora retorted dryly, the prospect of further intimacy with Sam making her heartbeat all the harder. “I know how old I am. Twenty-nine.” Aware that she’d put everything she ever wanted on the line with her candor, Nora paused to draw a bolstering breath. “I don’t want to reach thirty without—without having experienced one wild, crazy, madly passionate, maybe even ill-conceived love affair, no matter how long it lasts.” Aware that she was tingling everywhere, she stopped and bit her lip. “I guess the bottom line is…I don’t want this chance to have a wildly satisfying love affair pass me by. And I was really hoping you wouldn’t, either.”

  Able to see that she’d caught him completely off guard with her unprecedentedly candid confession, she pressed a silencing finger to his lips. “You don’t have to make a decision now,” she said softly, feeling a lot better now that she was in charge of the situation and her own mounting desire, not he. Because that in turn gave her control of her life again. She released a shaky breath. “I know now is not the right time or place, but at least think about it and—and let me know. And in the meantime, I’ll think about it, too,” she promised softly. If I don’t change my mind between now and then, I’ll know it’s right.

  “Like I could do anything but think about it after a proposal like that,” Sam said.

  Nora grinned. It was fun to be on the seducing side, instead of just the object of an unsuccessful seduction. Her lips curved in a slow, tantalizing smile. “Does this mean you’re actually considering my proposition?”

  Sam answered her with an affable grin. “You better believe it,” he retorted throatily as he tightened his hold on her and rained white-hot kisses down her neck, then lingered over the incredibly sensitive skin behind her ear. “This isn’t a chance I’d want to miss, either.”

  “Good.” Nora sighed softly. Still reveling in the pleasure of his embrace, she flattened her hands on his chest and pushed back slightly. Knowing she needed more than just a strictly physical encounter with him, if this was going to be an occasion she’d remember the rest of her life, she tilted her head up and looked deep into his eyes. “But before we let this go any further, there’s something you have to do, too, Sam,” she said seriously. Something very important.

  “What?” Sam’s expression sobered. He tightened his grip around her waist.

  “I’ve told you about my romantic past.” Nora paused as their glances meshed, letting her words sink in. “Now it’s your turn to confide in me.”

  Chapter Eight

  SAM LOOKED both skeptical of and amused by Nora’s demand. “Acting on what theory?” he asked. “That confession is good for the soul?”

  What was good for the soul was connecting with someone else, feeling close to him, touching his heart. And having him touch yours back, Nora thought wistfully. But, to her disappointment, it looked as if trading confidences on the most intimate level did not come as easily to Sam as did his sensual kisses. “If someone’s hurt or betrayed you, Sam, I want to know. I want to help.”

  He regarded her skeptically. “By making love with me?”

  Nora shook her head. “By listening.”

  But even that, she noted with disappointment, was a leap Sam found difficult to take. Before she could say anything else, footsteps sounded in the hall. Her eyes still linked with his, Nora moved off Sam’s lap and got to her feet.

  Sam stood, too.

  Amazed at everything that had happened in their relationship in a few short minutes, they were still staring at each other as Harold Whittaker strode in. Fresh from his stint as volunteer with emergency services, he was bundled in cold-weather gear from head to toe.

  Nora turned away from Sam reluctantly. She wished Sam wasn’t working. She wished they could find somewhere to hide away and talk endlessly, until she had learned everything about him. And then make love over and over until she had enough memories stored away to last her a lifetime.

  “Find what you needed?” Sam’s grandfather asked Nora.

  “Almost.” Nora went back over to the desk and began gathering computer printouts of information she had collected. “I’ll need a few more hours to do an analysis, but then I should be able to sit down and talk to you and Clara and offer some preliminary advice.” She smiled, slipping easily into professional-woman mode. “Would late this afternoon or early this evening be okay for that?”

  Harold smiled. He looked from Nora to Sam and back again, taking in the new and different tension between them, before returning his attention to business once again. “This evening would be fine.”

  SAM WENT HOME with his grandfather, on the pretext of getting a quick bite of lunch before he headed back out into the fray. Nora said she’d walk back to the house after she finished her paper work. What he really wanted was to talk to his grandparents, and with Kimberlee sledding with her friends, Nora at the store and Gus not even in town yet, there was no better time than the present.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me you asked Nora to do a business analysis for the store?” Sam asked as the three of them sat down to a lunch of club sandwiches and piping hot tomato soup. He’d almost blown it with Nora when he walked in and found her going through the computer files.

  “We know how guarded you are about your personal life, Sam,” Clara replied as she passed the crackers. “And frankly, we didn’t want you to think we were doing it simply to get Nora to stay on in Clover Creek, when nothing could be further from the truth. With her experience in the New York advertising world, her opinion as a consultant is very valuable to us. Your grandfather and I are both looking forward to any insights Nora can give us.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Gran,” Sam replied. “’Cause, well-meant or not, your matchmaking efforts have a way of back firing
on all of us.” And he didn’t want anyone or anything scaring Nora away at such a delicate stage of their relationship. And Sam had the feeling—despite Nora’s unexpected proposal that they have what amounted to a blizzard-induced fling during the next few days—that she was but one step away from renewed flight.

  Harold cleared his throat. “Speaking of Nora…” he said as he spooned up some soup, “I couldn’t help but notice when I came into the store that there was a lot of tension between the two of you.”

  “You might call it that,” Sam said. He’d call it pure, unadulterated passion. He still couldn’t believe he had actually kissed her that way, or that she had kissed him back, or that she had been so frank about her desire to make love with him, but she had, and he was just going to have to deal with that. Just as he was going to have to deal with the fact that as soon as the interstate cleared she was probably going to leave, whether they made love or not, if for no other reason than to continue her flight from her family.

  Harold studied Sam. “Does that tension between the two of you have anything to do with Susan, or your broken engagement to her?”

  Yes, Sam thought as he quickly devoured his sandwich, in an roundabout way, it did. He’d thought he was over Susan’s betrayal. Obviously, he still bore some residual scars, or he wouldn’t have mistrusted Nora the way he had. Thank goodness he’d come to his senses in time and realized that the two women were not the same. Susan had been a woman unwilling to change, even when her behavior hurt those she professed to love. Whereas Nora seemed a woman ready to embrace change with all her heart.

  “I know you haven’t been serious about a woman since Susan and you broke up.” Clara continued probing, with uncharacteristic tenacity, as they heard the front door open and close.

  Finished with her soup, she set her bowl aside. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re still carrying a torch for that Mata Hari!”

  Sam bristled with irritation. He did not need to be reminded how he had misread Susan from the start. “You know I don’t discuss what happened with Susan and me with anyone,” he said firmly.

  “Maybe you should,” Nora said as she came into the kitchen to join them. “I, for one, would like to know who she is.”

  “Susan is Sam’s ex-fiancée,” Clara supplied, with a helpfulness Sam found extremely aggravating. “Susan and Sam didn’t part on very good terms.”

  Nora arched her brows and gave Sam a smugly knowing look that said, “So! I’m not the only one who had their marriage called off, am I?”

  Sam glared at his grandparents. The last thing he had wanted to do was spend what little time he probably had with Nora discussing his failed relationship with someone else.

  “Thanks a lot,” he murmured sarcastically as an aside, then frowned as the radio on his belt emitted a symphony of static, followed by a loud squawk.

  “Saved by the bell,” Clara said dryly.

  Sam flushed in a way he hadn’t in years, aware that Nora was still giving him intrigued looks. Now she was more curious about Susan than ever, dammit! And he was probably going to have to leave. Figuring he’d had enough of an inquisition about his romantic life to last him for quite a while, he turned on his heel, snatched up his coat and hat and headed for the door. “I’ll answer the call out in my truck. Thanks for lunch, Gran—it was great, as usual.”

  SAM HAD JUST FINISHED taking the call for assistance when Nora came dashing out of the house, paper bag in one hand, silver thermos in the other. He leaned across the console to open the passenger door. Looking ready for action, she scooted in and handed him the lunch sack. “Let’s go,” she said cheerfully.

  “Since when did you become my deputy?” he asked dryly, already thrusting the gearshift into Reverse.

  “Since I decided it was fun to ride along.”

  Nora smiled over at him, looking even prettier than she had the first time he laid eyes on her, with her glossy dark hair windswept and her cheeks rosy from the cold winter air.

  “And in case you’re wondering, the bag contains three oatmeal cookies and an apple for your dessert, the thermos hot coffee. Gran wanted you to have some dessert, even if you couldn’t stay.”

  “What about you?” Sam asked, concerned, even as he tried not to think how much he was going to miss Nora when—if—she did go. “You didn’t have time to eat.”

  “There’s a sandwich and some cookies and an apple in the bag for me, too, if I get hungry, which I’m not right now. So,” Nora prodded, her green eyes glimmering with excitement, “where are we going?”

  We. Sam liked the sound of that. It was something he could get used to a lot faster than he ever would’ve thought.

  “Over to the high school parking lot.”

  “What’s going on there?” Nora asked as she fastened her seat belt.

  “Something dangerous, from the sound of it,” Sam said grimly, as he drove down the snowbanked street. He sighed. “I just hope Kimberlee’s not involved.”

  Unfortunately, to Sam’s chagrin, Kimberlee was involved. And the activity that was going on was dangerous. A rambunctious group of young people had tied sleds to the trailer hitches of several pickup trucks. The teens were jumping on the back of the sleds while the pickup trucks zigzagged across the slippery parking lot as swiftly as their drivers dared. It was like playing crack-the-whip while being dragged by a pickup. Several times, just in the minute or two while Sam and Nora were observing, the teens riding the sleds were almost thrown off the sleds.

  Swearing beneath his breath, Sam got out of the truck and headed for them. When the kids finally saw him, they all took one look at his face and knew they were in for it. Sam did not disappoint.

  The lecture lasted fifteen minutes. Sam took down names, confiscated the sleds and the ropes being used to pull them, then sent everyone home. Kimberlee listened right along with everyone else, then stalked back with Sam to the truck.

  Her lips set mutinously, she threw herself into the backseat. Aware that he had never been more disappointed in his kid sister, or felt like more of a total failure as a big brother and legal guardian, Sam got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

  “I want you to know you have completely embarrassed me,” Kimberlee told Sam tearfully.

  “And I want you to know you could have been killed,” Sam shot right back, just as upset as his sister. And Nora looked equally concerned—if a lot calmer than either he or Kimberlee. “Suppose one of those sleds had slid beneath the wheels of the pickup trucks?” he demanded, turning around to face his younger sister.

  Kimberlee’s face flamed. “They didn’t!”

  “But they could have, and then what?” Sam asked, trying his best to badger some sense into her. “Do you really think the driver could have stopped in time?”

  A tense, unhappy silence vibrated in the truck as Nora looked from Sam to Kim and back again.

  “Kids get killed doing stupid stunts like that every year, Kimberlee,” Sam said to his younger sister hoarsely. “I don’t want it happening to you. I don’t want it happening to any kid in Clover Creek. You got that?”

  “Yes, I’ve got it!” Kimberlee sobbed.

  “Furthermore, you ought to know better!”

  “I do!” Kimberlee shouted back, throwing up both her hands.

  “Then why?” Sam demanded, shooting her a querulous glance in his rearview mirror.

  Tears filled Kimberlee’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Neither do I,” Sam muttered, upset.

  But it was clear that he had failed his sister yet again, Sam realized. And for that, he had a hard time forgiving himself.

  The silence remained all through the drive from the high school to the Whittaker home. Her shoulders stiff with injured pride, Kimberlee climbed out.

  “Kimberlee, one more thing,” Sam said, before she could escape completely.

  She turned around to face him.

  “You’re grounded,” Sam continued, doing what he k
new his parents would’ve done in the same situation.

  Kimberlee sighed. “How long?” She bit the question out, just as succinctly.

  “Until further notice,” Sam said.

  WHEW, Nora thought, aware that she was perspiring beneath her coat. And all she’d done was witness the traumatic event.

  “You might as well say it. I know you’re thinking it,” Sam told Nora as he reached for the thermos his grandmother had packed.

  Nora slipped off her shoulder harness and turned to face him. “I understand you wanting to protect Kimberlee, Sam. And she was wrong.”

  Sam sighed. “Just the same, you think I was a little hard on her, don’t you?”

  Nora nodded solemnly. “Yes, I guess I do.”

  Sam poured coffee into the thermos cup and quaffed it down, black, before refilling the cup again. “I’ve tried my hardest to do right by her.”

  “I think she knows that,” Nora said carefully, refusing his offer to share the coffee with a shake of her head.

  “But even so, you need to put all this aside and make up with her.” Because he and his sister both would be miserable until he did so.

  Sam gave her a skeptical glance. “Like you’ve made up with your father?”

  Nora’s slender shoulders stiffened. “It’s not the same thing, Sam,” she told him stubbornly, refusing to let him turn the subject back to her.

  “It looks to me like it is,” Sam returned, aggrieved, leaning toward her seriously. “In fact, to me, the situations look exactly the same.”

  Nora swallowed around the sudden knot of emotion in her throat. “You don’t know the half of what went on with me and my dad, Sam,” she whispered, looking away. Or how much all of it still hurt.

  Sam put his hand on hers. “Then tell me the rest,” he urged compassionately.

  Nora regarded him. Knowing that he was right, that she did need to unburden herself, she began, “I told you how he neglected me after my mother died.”