Chapter Thirteen

      Betsy hid behind a large boulder in Joel and Kate’s backyard, snowball in hand. For a while she thought that the promise of a snowball fight had been forgotten. Then after lunch the kids were sent outside to make a snow fort and to mark off the camp of the attacking army.

      Once that was done, Kate took the two different flags her daughter had attached to broom handles and everyone counted off. Through the luck of the draw, or perhaps the unluck, she and Tripp were on the attacking team while Ryan was a defender of the fort.

      “Cover me,” Tripp whispered from next to her.

      He had their patrol’s flag in hand and this was their last chance to breach the fort and thus win the game. All of their other comrades had gotten hit and were now out of the game. Of course the other side had lost many soldiers, too. As far as Betsy knew, Ryan was still playing.

      “I’ve got five or six snowballs made up,” she said to Tripp. “But I’m not sure I’ll be able to throw them fast enough to protect you.”

      “No guts, no glory.” Tripp shot her a devilish smile. “If I go down, grab the flag and make a run for it.”

      Betsy smiled. “Deal.”

      “On the count of three,” Tripp said, his voice filled with determination. Betsy wondered what the hospital board would think now if they could see their new administrator with his eyes blazing and snowball in hand. “One, two, three—”

      Betsy rose and began flinging snowballs.

      She got Joel in the shoulder, Mary Karen in the belly. Her oldest boy, Connor, came out from nowhere with snowball in hand.

      He howled with frustration when her snowball caught him in the leg.

      Tripp was almost at the fort, all of his snowballs gone, flag in hand when Ryan stepped out. He stood there, with no protection, waiting for a sure shot at Tripp.

      Betsy stumbled forward, one last snowball in hand. She didn’t know if Ryan discounted her or if he was too focused on Tripp to give her a second thought. But she released her ball just as he raised his arm, giving her a perfect shot to the abdomen.

      He looked up in surprise as Tripp planted the flag, signaling the game was over and the blue team had won.

      She didn’t have a chance to say anything to Ryan, who was looking at her with disbelief in his eyes, because her team mobbed her, jumping up and down in the snow, chanting her name.

      Betsy couldn’t remember ever having quite as wonderful a day.

      By the time they went inside and warmed up, the sun had already set. Tripp left, but not before giving Betsy a congratulatory hug and promising to call her.

      Ryan seemed strangely silent. Of course, it could be only her imagination. She hoped he wasn’t disappointed in her. After all, she couldn’t throw the game just because she didn’t want to hit him with the snowball.

      It wasn’t until they were in his truck that they had the opportunity to talk privately. “About the snowball—”

      He raised one hand, then turned on the highway leading back into Jackson. “I have something to say first.”

      A chill of dread slid down Betsy’s spine. Over and over she’d heard girls say that guys don’t like it if you beat them at sports. Or that you shouldn’t flaunt how smart you were if you wanted to get dates. It had seemed silly to her. Of course she hadn’t had that many dates either.

      “I’m proud of you, Bets.”

      Betsy blinked. “For what?”

      “For being such a competitor.”

      Had he forgotten her team had won? “If I hadn’t hit you with that snowball, the red team would have won. You’d have been the hero, not—”

      Betsy stopped herself. To say more would feel like bragging.

      “You.” Ryan smiled and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “That’s why I’m so proud. You gave maximum effort. You didn’t let anything stop you.”

      “You don’t mind that I took you out?”

      “I wish I’d played smarter and God knows I hate to lose, but it wouldn’t have meant anything if I knew you’d handed me the win.”

      A warmth ran through Betsy’s veins, and she was reminded again just why she’d fallen in love with this guy.

      “But the Tripp thing,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly focused on the road. “I have to admit that bothers me.”

      “You mean that he planted the flag in your fort?”

      “Forget the fort.” Ryan’s hand cut a dismissive swath through the air. “That was a game. I’m talking real life. I’m talking about you wanting to date him and me at the same time.”

      I don’t really want to date him, Betsy yearned to say, I only want you. But she kept her mouth shut.

      He slanted a sideways glance. “You can date him if you want, but I’m not going to date anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

      “What if Adrianna came and begged you to take her out?” The question popped out of Betsy’s mouth before she could stop it.

      “I’d say no.” Ryan met her gaze. “Even if she got down on her hands and knees.”

      Betsy slipped her arm through his and moved as close to him as the seat belt would allow, resting her head on his shoulder. She heaved a contented sigh. “I like being with you.”

      Ryan’s body relaxed. He took one hand off the wheel, then slipped it around her shoulder. “When we get to your house, invite me in?”

      “Of course you can come in.” Betsy lifted her head slightly. “Though I don’t know what I have to offer you. The fridge is pretty bare.”

      He pulled up to a stop light, then glanced her way, his gaze dark with desire.

      A fire ignited in Betsy’s belly. The air became charged with electricity. Desire flowed through her veins like hot lava. She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep from self-combusting before they reached her apartment. She looked for Mr. Marstand’s car when they pulled into the parking lot, then remembered that he was spending the day—and hopefully the night—with his sister in Idaho Falls.

      The only other obstacle to a romantic evening was Puffy. The dog ran to greet her when she opened the door, then turned and unexpectedly bared her teeth to Ryan.

      “Hey,