by Cora Seton
“Are you kidding?” Hope couldn’t let that slide. “We shouldn’t even have set out in a snowstorm. You shouldn’t have been driving like a maniac and run us off the road. Curtis should have brought more than one snowmobile—or at least more skis. And he should be back by now. Where is he?” She slowed down. Her feet were really killing her. Blake kept going.
Raina’s expression softened. “You’re worried about him.”
“I’m worried about you. About your wedding.”
About getting her job at Yellowstone.
Although she hadn’t thought about that once since Curtis had gone to fetch Raina’s dress. Raina was right; all she’d thought about was Curtis. Where he was. If he’d found it.
If he was coming back.
She felt safer when he was nearby, but it wasn’t just that; she felt—enlivened. Was that a word?
She was pretty sure it was, and it encompassed the feelings in her body perfectly. When Curtis was around, she found herself checking for him, looking to see how he reacted to something someone had said, seeing if he was still nearby.
She liked him nearby.
Which was a big problem.
“There he is!” Raina exclaimed, and Hope’s heart jumped.
“Where?” But she could already make out his shape in the dimming light through the driving snow. Thank goodness he was back.
“I got it!” Curtis waved the duffel bag triumphantly over his head as he joined them. “Where’s Blake?”
Hope looked around. “He was here a second ago.”
“Blake!” Raina called out. “Blake, get back here with those kittens right now!”
Hope held her breath. He wouldn’t have done something to the kittens, would he?
When another shape approached them from the opposite direction that Curtis had come from, she relaxed.
“What’s the problem now?” Blake demanded. “You all are so damn slow!” He was still carrying the basket of kittens.
“Time to stop for the night,” Curtis said. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head off the road and find a place to camp.”
“Or we could just break into that cabin up there.” Blake pointed farther down the road.
Curtis straightened. “Cabin?”
“A couple of hundred yards ahead,” Blake said with satisfaction. “See? If we’d stuck together we’d have spent another night outside unnecessarily.”
Hope smothered a laugh as Curtis’s hands flexed and was impressed when he managed to hold his tongue. Blake would try a saint.
They all picked up their pace, even Raina. When Curtis managed to force open the door to the little log cabin Blake had spotted through the trees, they spilled inside.
“It’s colder in here than it is outside,” Raina said, clapping her hands against her arms.
“I’ll take care of that in a jiffy.” Curtis gestured to a pile of dry wood stored against one wall. “People up here stock their cabins carefully because you can get freak storms in early autumn or late spring. We could stay warm here for a month with all that fuel.”
“Do they have a land line?” Hope asked, searching the small space but coming up empty.
“Up here? Not likely,” Curtis confirmed.
“They don’t have cell phone reception either,” Raina said a moment later.
Curtis didn’t seem surprised. Moments later he had a blaze going in the old cast-iron woodstove that stood in one corner, and they’d all stripped out of their wet things and hung them to dry. Once the fire was taken care of, Curtis moved into the kitchen, bringing the backpack full of food items he’d carried along.
“A nice hot dinner will cure all our woes,” he said as he began to rummage through it, putting cans of food on the counter.
“Not all our woes,” Hope said softly, coming to join him while the rest of the party kept close to the fire. “Raina’s going to miss her wedding tomorrow.”
Curtis’s movements slowed. “Not if I can help it.”
“Face facts. We’re not going to make it.” She was tired of pretending this was all going to work out.
“We’ll be up first thing. Dry, fed—we’ll make it. Somehow,” he added grimly.
His answer irritated her. He was a Navy SEAL, after all. He should be practical.
Truthful.
When you messed with the schedule, things didn’t work out. He had to know that.
Hope struggled to get her rising emotions under control. She was tired. In pain.
“You don’t understand how important this is,” she burst out. Hope wasn’t sure why her anger was flaring now. Curtis was right; they were safe and dry—surely that was all that mattered. But Raina’s words from earlier were haunting her. This wasn’t about her job; this was about Raina. Her best friend. The woman who’d cheered her on for years no matter what goals she set.
She’d made Raina and Ben a promise. And they hadn’t stuck to the plan. And now everything had gone wrong. She didn’t know if Raina’s injury was serious—didn’t know what else might happen—
“I understand how important—”
“Do you? Really? When was the last time you waited and waited for someone you cared for, and they simply didn’t show up?”
Hope was surprised to find herself shaking with anger, memories she’d pushed into the recesses of her mind for so long shattering free and cascading into her mind one after another. Her beautiful gown. Her hair and nails done just so. Her mother waiting with her camera.
The prom date who never came.
She blinked back the tears that pricked her eyes. She was just tired. She’d put what happened with Liam behind her a long time ago.
“You don’t know as much about me as you think you do,” Curtis growled.
“I know you have no idea how Ben is going to feel waiting at the altar tomorrow when Raina doesn’t show up!”
A thump, followed by a chorus of meows, alerted her that everyone—including Raina—had heard her.
“Don’t say that.” Raina stood across the room with her hands on her hips. The basket at her feet spilled out curious kittens, delighted to finally be set free. “Don’t you dare say I’m not going to show up. Curtis is going to get me there. He promised he would, and he will.”
“He can’t get you there. Don’t you see that?” Hope contradicted. “This is my fault. I should have built contingency days in. I should have known not to trust someone who crosses out pages and writes over my—”
“Raina’s right. I promised her I’d get her to her wedding, and I damn well will,” Curtis said, cutting her off. “Because you’re wrong—I know exactly what it feels like—”
He didn’t finish. Instead, he grabbed his jacket from where he’d hung it in the entryway, flung open the front door, stalked outside and slammed it behind him.
“Jesus, Hope. Don’t you watch Base Camp?” Blake asked, joining Hope in the kitchen, picking up a can, fumbling around in the drawers until he found an opener, and beginning to open it. “Everyone knows Curtis’s first love left him at the altar fifteen years ago.” He opened a few more cans and bent to search for a pot in the cupboards.
“His first love?” Hope’s heart sank as she replayed in her mind the words she’d just said to him. Curtis had been left at the altar?
Raina was watching her. “That’s right. His high-school sweetheart. Then earlier this year Samantha married Harris instead of him.”
“He wanted to marry Sam?” She remembered the woman from their short time at Base Camp. She and her husband had been there at breakfast and had come to wave them off.
“Boone set her up with Curtis, but she preferred Harris instead,” Byron explained. “It’s not that he wanted to marry her, but it was a blow to his ego.”
Raina nodded. “From what I’ve seen on Base Camp, Curtis is the kind of guy who wants to find a wife and settle down, Hope. It just hasn’t happened for him yet.”
Liam’s face flashed through Hope’s mind again. The giant crush she’d had on him. The w
ay her mother had waited so eagerly to capture photos of them on prom night, like Byron when he filmed everything.
She shoved the memories down. She wouldn’t think of them. Couldn’t.
But she could apologize to Curtis.
“Excuse me,” she said.
Chapter Seven
‡
Hope hadn’t watched the show. At all. She didn’t know what kind of a loser he was. Dumped—twice—by women he was supposed to marry. Skunked a third time when he tried to make a go of it with Michele. Everyone else here knew about his past, but Hope had no idea. He’d kind of hoped to win her over before she learned about it.
Curtis checked over their skis and the other equipment they’d left on the front porch. He didn’t know what he was doing out here—he needed to get warm, dry and fed like everyone else, but he couldn’t stand the look of pity he knew he’d see in Hope’s eyes when she realized his track record with love and marriage sucked.
The door opened behind him, and Curtis sighed. Couldn’t a man nurse his pride in private?
“Hey,” Hope said, and he stiffened. He’d expected Byron, or maybe Raina.
Not Hope.
“I’m sorry.” She shut the door behind her and joined him in the cold.
This was stupid, Curtis thought again. They shouldn’t be out here in this weather.
“I didn’t know you’d been left at the altar,” Hope added.
“I didn’t want you to know.” Was that all Raina had told her? Did she know any of the circumstances? Maybe not. Maybe Raina had left him a way to keep a little of his pride intact.
“Want to tell me about it?”
“Not really.” She didn’t look like she was going anywhere, though. Curtis sighed again. Time for a bit of truth, he supposed. “I was a teenager, and I’d dated Angela all through high school. I was absolutely smitten. She… decided at the last minute she wasn’t. I can see now we both got carried away and tried to grow up much too fast. I should thank her for making the right choice for both of us. Somehow it still left a scar.”
“Of course it did. You’d planned to spend your life with her. It doesn’t matter that you were kids. What happened with Samantha? I’m not sure I understand that. Were you in love with her, too?”
“With Sam? Hell, no.” He snapped his mouth shut, realizing that sounded harsh. “I mean—Harris is a good friend of mine, and I don’t hold anything against them. It’s just—she was coming to Base Camp to meet me, and she met Harris instead and fell for him right away. I just… panicked… afterward. Thought maybe I’d never find the right woman.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“Did Raina tell you I tried to get married again just before you arrived?”
“No!” Hope drew back, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets, her eyes wide. “Oh my goodness, Curtis. What happened? You must be devastated—” She winced, and he knew she had to be thinking of the kisses they’d shared because her expression darkened. “Is that why—?”
“No, it’s not why I kissed you. I’m relieved it didn’t work out. Michele and I didn’t love each other at all. I think we both gave up on love altogether for a minute there and tried to make marriage a kind of business arrangement. We thought we could help each other, but we were wrong. She was in love with someone else, and I decided I wanted to hold out for the real thing.”
“Why… why are you trying so hard to get married?”
Curtis could tell he’d lost all the ground he’d gained with her. Now she thought he was careless about marriage and love, when she couldn’t be further from the truth. Something held him back from telling her about his deadline, though. Hope wouldn’t like it. She would think he was trying to use her. “Why are you trying so hard to avoid marriage?” he countered.
“Because of my plan—”
“Baloney. What’s the real reason?”
She was quiet for a long time before she turned to survey the woods at the edge of the lot, as if she’d only just noticed she was outside. “I actually do have plans—lots of them. Dreams that are important to me.”
Curtis nodded, knowing there was more and hoping she trusted him enough to tell him. “I get that. I don’t want to stop you from pursuing your dreams, Hope.”
“It’s more than that, though.”
He waited to hear an explanation. She was still gazing out into the falling snow. Whatever had happened in the past was alive and well in her mind right now. He hoped she’d share it with him, but in the end she just shook her head.
“You live in Montana, and from what I understand you’re pretty set on staying in Chance Creek.”
“That’s right.” He was, and she needed to know that.
“Yellowstone Park is in Wyoming. That’s too far—”
“We’d make it work. I know we could figure out something—”
“You know what? It’s cold.” She turned away, reaching for the door handle, but she stopped before touching it. “Curtis, I wish—”
She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to. He knew everything she was trying to say. She wished the timing was different. That she was different—or that he was.
He didn’t realize he was moving until he’d crossed the porch and taken her into his arms. “If you aren’t going to give me a chance, at least kiss me one last time so I can remember what I’m missing.” He pulled her tight against him, cupped the nape of her neck and met her mouth with his own, savoring every sensation.
She was sweet and soft, yielding to the heat of his desire. Once he started, Curtis found he couldn’t stop. He pressed her up against the wall, boxing her in, kissing her—sliding his tongue between her lips.
When Hope sighed against him, Curtis was lost. He wanted more. So much more.
Finally, he drew back, keeping his gaze on her face.
Hope stared back at him, a look that contained so much emotion he thought he could drown in it. She opened her mouth to say something, and he knew instinctively she’d package up this experience in a box to put on a shelf—to leave behind.
He pressed his mouth to hers again to stop her. Kissed her thoroughly, knowing it was probably the last time. She’d stated her case. Told him she wouldn’t change her life to fit his.
When he couldn’t bear it anymore, he pulled back and led her inside without another word.
A flurry at a nearby window alerted him that Byron had been filming them. He didn’t think Hope had noticed, though. Inside, the small cabin was full of the aroma of cooking food. His stomach gave a ravenous grumble, despite the ache in his heart.
“Something smells good.” Hope sounded as dazed as he felt, even as she tried to act like nothing had happened. Maybe he should let her go so she could follow her plans and reach her dreams, but he was having a hard time thinking that was a good idea.
“Blake’s made chili,” Raina called out cheerfully. She was sitting on the floor surrounded by kittens, Daisy curled up a few feet away. “Turns out he’s a man of many talents. He should find a woman to cook for.”
The stack of bowls hit the counter with a crash, and Blake swore as he saved them from sliding to the floor. “Hell, that was close.”
“Raina hit a nerve, huh?” Byron asked, filming him.
“I don’t need a woman,” Blake said. “My money keeps me company.”
Curtis shucked off his coat and helped Hope out of hers. Every brush of his fingers against her was agony. He wanted to lead her into one of the other rooms and use every means at his disposal to give him a chance to change her mind.
“All right, folks. Let’s eat,” Blake said.
Curtis led Hope to the counter where he’d begun to dish the chili into bowls. He had no idea how he’d get through the rest of this trip.
“I’m staying right here,” Raina said when dinner was over. She was stretched out on the couch, her left foot resting on a pillow. Hope had taken a closer look, pronounced her ankle sprained and wrapped it tightly in an elastic bandage. “Keep it elevated.” Hope place
d a decorative pillow under her, then passed her a pile of blankets and another pillow for her head. They were all sleepy after their rigorous day and heavy meal. There were two bedrooms off the main living space, one large one with a queen-size sway-backed bed and one small one that struck her as an afterthought—a closet made into a bedroom or something along those lines. That one had a twin mattress on a homemade wooden frame.
“I can sleep out here on the floor near Raina,” she suggested. The couch wasn’t the fold-out type, and she didn’t think curling up in the moth-eaten easy chair would be too comfortable, but even the hard floor would be better than sleeping in a tent in the snow.
“You take the small bedroom. Blake and Byron can take the other one. I’ll sleep out here on the floor and keep the woodstove going,” Curtis said.
Disappointment surged through her. She couldn’t say why. She hadn’t been hoping to share a room with Curtis, of course.
But now that she’d thought about it, somehow she couldn’t get the image of it out of her mind. What would it be like to share a bed—alone—with a man like Curtis? To touch him intimately?
To sleep with him—in both senses of the phrase?
She had a feeling it would be wonderful, and she began to wonder how she could ever have been cold today, because right now she was feeling pretty darn warm.
She couldn’t sleep with Curtis, though. Couldn’t think about a future with him, either. Opening her heart to a man was dangerous—especially one with such a checkered past.
She and Curtis took charge of cleaning up the meal, while Byron and Blake began a kind of awkward dance of maneuvering around the bedroom they were to share, spreading out their things, making up two separate sleeping arrangements on the bed and generally behaving like teenagers afraid their manhood was about to be questioned.
“We get it; you’re both straight!” Raina called out finally. “Get over yourselves. None of us would care if you weren’t.”
Blake grunted his displeasure. Byron kept rummaging through his bag, as if he’d lost something.
Finally, they settled in, and Hope prepared to do the same.
“You have everything you need?” she asked Raina for the fifth time as Raina snuggled under her covers on the couch.
