Thunder Snow (Thunder On The Mountain Series) Page 5

  “Make yourself at home.” I tried for nonchalance but it came out too breathy.

  “I keep an eye on the place for Charles when he’s not around. I’ll try to break the habit while you’re here.”

  He continued to stand with his back towards me, not moving.

  “How long is that going to be?” he asked quietly.

  Not sure I understood the question, I didn’t answer immediately.

  “How long you staying, little one?” My heart danced at his endearment. I sat down on the polished rocks of the hearth, trying to gather my composure.

  “At 5’8”, I’m hardly little.” I was working on casual. I wasn’t sure how to get there.

  “I’ll be here a few months, at least,” I finally replied. “I plan on riding out the winter here. I have competent staff taking care of my business, and I shouldn’t have to make the trip to town too often. Why?” I asked as gently as I could, not wanting to break the spell that was surrounding us as the sunset was turning the sky orange and giving an eerie glow to the room.

  “I heard what you did for Griz today. I came to say thank you.”

  “No thanks necessary. It was within my power to fix his problem easily, and I was happy to help. It’s important to me to fit in as much as possible.”

  I could see his shoulders lose their rigidity as he leaned his head against the window. As though he thought better of it, he came and stood in front of me, not saying a word, just looking at me broodingly.

  “Can’t imagine that will bode well for either one of us,” he said as he took my hand and helped me to my feet. We stood there with only breath between us, not talking, absorbing the moment, each other.

  Swimming in the sea of his blue eyes, the sunset was creating an aura of enchantment. I wanted him to kiss me, but I didn’t want this moment to end.

  When he finally did, the world stopped. Wait, did I think it stopped? Then why was it spinning so frantically out of control?

  His kisses were tantalizing. Kisses unlike any I had ever known. I had read about this feeling, but until this moment I didn’t know it really existed.

  “I could do this for hours,” I said breathlessly. I didn’t want it to stop. Again his lips were on mine. He seemed to absorb me into his being. My first conscious thought was that I was glad his arms were around me so I didn’t fall.

  As he broke the kiss, we stood looking at each other. “Dear God, a freight train would have done less damage,” he said. He made sure I was steady on my feet, then was gone.

  Every fiber of my being was alive in a new way. I have no idea how long I stood there before I was able to get my body to move. I took the disc out of my camera and tried editing photos. My mind wouldn’t focus on anything but his lips, his soft, delectable lips.

  After a simple dinner and a luxurious bath in a tub like a forest wonderland, I was surprised how tired I actually was.

  The next morning I woke restless, wanting to see Jack, wanting to repeat the experience, wanting to know what that had been about. I headed to the Amber Rose. Maybe I could get Sam to tell me some things about my mysterious stranger.

  CHAPTER NINE

  There were customers there when I came in. I saw Sam was busy, so I helped out as best I could, running orders, pouring coffee, cleaning off tables. After most of the crowd had left, Sam slid a mug towards me and filled it with his fresh brew.

  “Haven’t seen it that busy in here since this summer. I have someone who helps out in the season, but we don’t usually have too much traffic up here in the winter. Sure appreciate yer helpin’ me out, pun’kin.”

  “Pun’kin,” I said wistfully. “That’s what my dad calls me. When I was a kid, my hair was kinda that color. It defined me. Red hair and freckles. The older I get, the darker the color gets and the freckles are pretty much gone now, thank goodness. But I love the name. It’s such a term of endearment. Thanks, Sam,” I said genuinely. “Did you talk to my dad much over the years?”

  “Often enough. He always said such nice things ‘bout his pun’kin, an’ I always felt like I knew ya. But Charles and I, no matter how much time went by, we could always pick up right where we left off. Once yer ma died, God rest her soul, he spent a lot more time up here.”

  “I keep thinking about how some people change, Sam. Keep thinking about how close we can be to someone for so long, then all of a sudden it’s like you don’t even know them. I’m glad you and my dad stayed close.”

  “Ya talkin’ ‘bout some scoundrel that hurt ya?” Sam’s protective nature was showing.

  “No,” I said, smiling wistfully. “We get close to people, we share souls with people, we think we know them. I was close friends with my college roommate for twelve years. Now I keep wondering if I ever knew her, or what it was about her I liked. I wouldn’t even want to have a cuppa coffee with her these days. Makes me sad.

  “We connected on so many levels. We loved each other. There wasn’t anything we didn’t share. We told each other things no other human would ever know about us. Now we’re just polite strangers, and not even so much polite any more.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out if it’s time that changes us, circumstance, or we just grow apart? Was it ME that failed the relationship? Are people just supposed to be in our lives for a season? Could I not have known who she truly was, or did other people’s influence change her? How can you love someone like that and then look at them as though you have never seen them before, never known them?”

  I touched Sam’s hand and chuckled. “Seems like it’s been so long since I’ve had time to myself. Being up here alone, out of the rat race, is definitely helping me to think about things I haven’t slowed down long enough to think about before. My dad would say this is a time that is going to help define me.”

  “Or we grow up and find that most people can’t be trusted,” Jack said cynically from the booth behind me.

  When had he slipped in, and how could I not have noticed? But I was quick to respond. “Is that fair, Jack? I don’t know your story. I don’t know what brought you to this little settlement. But I DO know you wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t a whole lotta trust between you and most of the people you know here.”

  I heard Sam chuckle behind me and knew I had Jack’s attention. I could even form a rational thought in spite of the eye contact. “I don’t know much about you at all, but I know as sure as I’m standing here that trust is important to you. I would even imagine that it has a lot to do with why you live here – because you know the people here can be trusted. A spade is a spade all the way around, and you know that even if you don’t agree with someone, they are shooting straight from the hip.”

  Sam almost cackled, “She’s not only candy ta the ol’ eyeballs, she’s a dang smart little spitfire as well.”

  Jack didn’t break eye contact when he replied, “Most women don’t know the meaning of trustworthy. Best to avoid letting them get close enough to find that out.”

  At first I was stung by his blanket assessment. Then my heart just hurt for whoever it was that had blinded him into believing that and making him callous.

  “Whoever she was, Jack, she’s not worth giving up on life for. We all make mistakes in judgment. Sometimes we trust where we shouldn’t.” My voice got softer. I wanted him to listen to what I was saying.

  “I have come to realize that sometimes we do grow up and wonder, ‘What the hell was I thinking?’ But for the most part, people are good. You have a goldmine of good people around you, which I’m sure you realize. Some of them are gonna be women. Most of them are not out for blood.”

  He was looking in my direction, but he had gone somewhere else. When his eyes met mine again, it was as though he had physically taken my face and held me immobile, “I repeat, best to avoid letting them get close enough to find that out.”

  After a few heartbeats, without breaking eye contact, I replied, “I hear what you’re saying. I don’t agree with you, but I DO hear you, and it is duly noted.”


  I turned back to Sam, not wanting to analyze the crazy thing that had happened between us. Time enough for that later.

  Sam was looking back and forth between Jack and me with his ever-present wicked grin. “Yer Pa comin’ up here any time soon, pun’kin?” he said, breaking the tension.

  “Only if I invite him,” I replied cheekily. “How’s THAT for a good deal? I get his place, and he doesn’t get to visit unless I say so.”

  The bell on the door jingled, and when I looked, Jack had walked out. My eyes met Sam’s. There was understanding in them, humor as well. But I didn’t want to talk to him about what was happening. I wanted to think about it when I was alone, think about what was going on. Jack was warning me away, but why?

  “Whenever ya want ta talk, ya know where ta find me,” Sam said gently.

  Kissing him on the cheek, I whispered, “Thanks, Sam, I know.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Over the weeks, I had gotten pretty friendly with many of the people of this little town. Being the daughter of Charles Weston gave me entre and a certain kind of acceptance not normally afforded to strangers. I was used to the stares, knowing there was no threat in them, only friendly appreciation for someone so different than what they were used to.

  Bella Roja was a term I heard often as I explored, but it took my breath away when I heard it coming from Jack’s lips as we ran into each other at the Post Office.

  “You have lunch yet?” he asked.

  “No. I left the house early and wasn’t even aware it had gotten to be that late. I thought that in some of the quiet time I have in the evenings I could send notes to my clients, so I came over to get some stamps.”

  “Can I buy you lunch?”

  As many times as we have talked, my heart still did a little flip when we made eye contact. I often felt as though I were giving him a zip line to my soul.

  “I’d like that, thank you.”

  After getting settled at a little diner and placing our order, Jack started asking me questions. Never one to use a few words when a story would work, I got carried away in my response when he asked me about my job.

  “For as long as I can remember, my dad has been a builder in the Denver/Boulder area. As a very little girl, mom would take me out to the job sites so she could visit or help as my dad got his business off the ground.

  “On those days that we would go see him, she would bring things to keep me occupied, but I would always find my way to a hammer or screwdriver. While other little girls were getting dolls for Christmas, I wanted tools.”

  The waitress set our food on the table. “Go on,” he said.

  “One of my fondest memories was my first real toolbox for my tenth birthday. Although there have been many additions to it over the years, I still have the core set I got almost twenty years ago, and I rarely use them without remembering my initial joy.

  “It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that I would choose a profession that had something to do with houses. I got my real estate license before I turned twenty, and for almost a decade now, I’ve worked as an agent in Denver, first with my dad, then branching out on my own.”

  “I remember your dad mentioning some kind of award you won last year, and he was over-the-moon proud of you.”

  Blushing, I said, “Ah, I have been so driven for so many years. Last year I was selected for a National award they give to up-and-coming agents under the age of thirty. He was certainly proud.

  “I’ve done nothing but work around the clock for years now. I’ve worked hard to establish a solid reputation. One morning I woke up and realized I had stopped actually living somewhere along the way. I definitely needed a break.”

  “Lotsa people would think this little backwater town wasn’t a whole lotta living,” he said, as if asking a question.

  “Are you kidding? There’s more life in this place than I’ve seen in forever. People are real. You get what you see. YOU get to make the choice about whether or not you want to engage. I love it here.”

  “You’re an unusual woman, Callie Weston. A little hurricane of fresh air,” he winked as he paid the tab.

  ~~~

  The weather stayed warm for the next month or so. There were not many days I didn’t visit the Amber Rose. There were not many times I went in when Jack wasn’t there also. Sometimes his conversations with Sam would end abruptly when he’d see me, sometimes Jack would ask me a question and involve me in whatever it was they were talking about.

  One morning while Jack and I sat at the counter talking to Sam, some out-of-towners wandered in.

  “Yer welcome ta sit wherever it is ya want,” said Sam in a friendly manner, coming around the counter to hand them menus, “jest so long as there ain’t nobody else in the seat.”

  I’d heard him say it a half dozen times before, and it still made me laugh. Jack and I exchanged a playful glance. I felt so much at home here. No wonder my dad couldn’t wait to come here at every opportunity.

  Jack got up to pour himself another cup of coffee, and poured me some as well.

  “You from around here?” one of the customers asked me.

  “I am now,” I replied.

  “We’ve heard this town has Frozen Dead Guy Days. When does that happen?”

  “Not until March, but it’s only the people from out-of-town that enjoy it. The locals dread it because it’s nothing but a drunken brawl for three full days,” I said derisively.

  “People move up here because of the beauty of it, to get away from City life, to live in peace. In one weekend,

  thousands of people descend on this remote town; people who don’t care at all about what kind of destruction they’re causing, and then they’re gone. It takes weeks to clean up the mess that all of those careless people caused.”

  I hadn’t meant to be rude, but it appeared as though I silenced their questions. They turned back and hid behind their menus.

  “Very well said, little one,” Jack said quietly, resting his hand on my knee. “You ever been here during Frozen Dead Guy Days?”

  I could feel the heat of his hand warming the knee of my jeans, and I just kept staring at it. It must have made him conscious of it because he smiled and picked up his coffee and the spell was broken.

  “No. Honestly, it doesn’t sound like a good time to me at all,” I said, looking out the window into the town

  “Not usually,” Jack explained. “They make it to the neighborhood where the Tuff Shed is where Grandpa’s body’s on ice, God rest his soul,” he said teasingly. “But he’s been frozen and thawed so many times, no one wants to see him. It’s more of a ritual than anything else.”

  “Maybe we can have work to do in Denver or Boulder that weekend,” Jack said suggestively. “They don’t usually make it near the houses. Sam has his own system after all this time for taking care of things, so I make myself as scarce as possible.”

  The thought of spending a weekend in Denver or Boulder with Jack had my senses reeling. He must have known which pores were sapping my thought processes.

  “One of your most admirable traits, little one, and one I very much appreciate, is that not only are your words honest, but your face is so expressive. It’s refreshing, and rare. Makes it easy to know exactly what you’re thinking,” he cajoled.

  “Here’s how I feel about that,” I said reflectively. “I’m diplomatic when I need to be, but above all else, I demand honesty. It doesn’t matter the subject, it doesn’t matter how tragic it is, how hurtful it might be, how much someone thinks I don’t want to hear it, none of it matters as long as we’re dealing with the truth. It’s too hard to play the game when there’re only 48 cards in the deck and you don’t know which ones are missing. Real easy to get blindsided that way.”

  He looked at me for a moment. “You’re an interesting woman. It doesn’t feel like innocence or naiveté, but it sure is refreshing.” When he touched my cheek, it brought me an inordinate amount of pleasure.

  “You keep me on my toes, Jack Franklin. I like y
ou.”

  “Ditto, angel, ditto,” he said as he paid his tab and waved to Sam as he left. This time, however, his eyes met mine as he opened the door. This time, he smiled and winked. This time, my heart sang a little song at what had just happened.

  “I could get used to this life, Sam” I said distantly. Sam, of course, just smiled his wicked grin.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Was it intentional that we met the next morning at Sam’s place for coffee? Were we circling the attraction without acknowledging it?

  “Gonna be a full moon tonight,” Sam said as he poured coffee for both of us. “Think I’ll shut down early. People seem ta lose their minds during the full moon at this elevation,” he chuckled.

  “You two lookin’ fer breakfast this mornin’?” Sam asked, looking between us.

  “I sure could use some of your pancakes with a whole pile of bacon,” Jack said.

  “I’ll take some of your oatmeal when you get around to it, Sam. As a matter of fact, why don’t I grab it myself?” I said, hopping down from the stool.

  “Don’t even think ‘bout it, pun’kin. Ya’ll just set right there and I’ll be right back with it.”

  A couple came in and sat at one of the booths. I handed them menus and told them I would be happy to take their order when they were ready.

  Jack smiled at me and said, “Do you ever sit still?”

  “Be nice to me, Jack. Don’t forget, you genuinely like me under that tough exterior of yours.”

  We could hear the conversation of the couple behind us. She said insistently, “Don’t stumble over something that’s behind you, Paul. It’s not worth it, and it will ruin our time together.”

  Jack and I looked at each other and nodded our heads in agreement.

  He looked me full in the face and said, “How about you? What are you stumbling over?”

  It was a thought-provoking question. Just as I met his eyes, the lady said, “You can take our order now, Miss.”

  “Certainly,” I said, smiling at my reprieve.