Montana Passions: Stranded With the Groom / All He Ever Wanted / Prescription: Love. Allison Leigh
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morning coffee and the inevitable sandwiches, she relayed Addy’s dinner invitation.
His eyes shifted away for a split second, and then he shook his head. “Wish I could. But I need to get back to Bozeman, ASAP. In my business, there are a hundred issues to deal with on a daily basis. I’ve been away since Saturday morning and that’s three days too long.”
She set down her stale sandwich and resisted the urge to work on him to stay. The guy had a demanding job and if they were going to get anywhere together, she’d have to learn to live with that—and on second thought, there were no ifs about it. The way he’d held her, as if he’d never let her go, out in the reception room a while ago, had banished all doubts on that score.
“I’m disappointed,” she said, matter-of-factly. “But I do understand.”
“Will you thank Adele for the invitation—and express my regrets?”
“You know I will—and it could be tough to get home at this point. You realize that?” Well, okay, she couldn’t help hoping that maybe bad road conditions would keep him in town tonight, after all. He could stay at her place.
They could catch up on their spooning.
She might even make a quick trip to the drugstore, take care of the contraception problem. She’d never bought a condom in her life and old Mr. Dodson, the pharmacist, might give her the lifted eyebrow when she plunked the box down at the cash register counter. But it would definitely be worth the slight embarrassment, to make tonight extra special, a night to remember.
Always…
But then Justin said, “It’s not even twenty miles. And by later today, at least, I’m sure they’ll have the highway cleared.”
He was probably right. Darn it.
The plow came within the hour. By then, Caleb had called a second time to tell her not to worry about Buttercup. A couple of hands would be over a little later with the snowblower and other necessary equipment to free the mare from the shed out back. Emelda Ross had called, as well, just to check and see that Katie was all right.
Katie and Justin, still dressed in their rummage sale clothes, bundled in the coats and gloves they’d arrived in, shovels in hand, waited on the porch as the plow lumbered up the street. It turned into the museum parking lot and kept on coming, right up to the steps. Katie waved at the driver, a local man whose wife and kids paid frequent visits to the library, and shouted, “Thanks!”
The driver gave her a wave in return and then backed to the street again. The plow, which had already made the Elk Avenue curve, headed east at a crawl, toward what was known as New Town, clearing the high white drifts into yet higher piles at the sides of the street as it went.
Justin turned to her. “Well. What next?”
A dragging feeling of sadness engulfed her: for all they had shared in the dim rooms behind them, for the uncertain future—which, she told herself firmly, wasn’t uncertain at all.
She and the man beside her had found something special. Nothing could change that. “Where’s your car parked?” she asked with a cheery smile.
“In the lot behind the town hall.”
“It’s not far, and mine’s there, too. Let’s get the steps cleared off and put the shovels away and then we’ll start walking.”
All along Main Street, folks were out with their shovels. The roar of snowblowers filled the icy air. People called out and waved as Katie and Justin walked by.
“Katie, how you doin’?”
“Some storm, eh?”
“Talk about your New Year’s surprise!”
“Come on. This is nothin’. Five or six feet. Piece a cake.”
“And they say it’s turning warm right away. In the fifties by Friday. What do you think of that?”
They waved back and called greetings and when they reached the hall, they found the front steps already cleared and the driveway to the back parking lot passable, as well.
They went in the front to ask after the things they’d left behind the night of the storm. Rhonda Culpepper, well past sixty with a white streak in her improbably black hair, waited at her usual post behind the reception desk.
Rhonda greeted Katie and nodded at Justin and announced with a wink, “I’ll bet I know what you two are after.” She bent down behind the desk and came up with Katie’s purse and Justin’s briefcase, phone and keys, along with a big bag for each of them filled with their own clothes and shoes. “Have I got every-thing?”
“Looks like it. Thanks, Rhonda.”
“Always glad to help.”
They went down a side hall and out a door at the back. A couple of guys were at work there, clearing the snow between the vehicles so people could get them out. Katie exchanged greetings with the men and then Justin asked which car was hers.
She pointed at the silver-gray Suburban, near where the men were working. “In a few minutes they’ll have me dug out.”
“Let’s get the snow off the roof and the windshield cleared, then,” he suggested.
She caught his hand. Even through their heavy gloves, she felt his warmth. Her pulse quickened. “It’s okay. Doug and Cam will help me.” She gestured at the two busily shoveling men.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. Where are you parked?”
His black Escalade was near the edge of the lot, not far from the drive that led around to the front. The snow had already been shoveled away around it.
She helped him knock some of the snow off the roof and the hood and he got inside and turned the vehicle on, ducking back out with a scraper. He set to work. She went on tiptoe and pushed more snow off the Escalade’s roof as he cleared the windshield.
It wasn’t all that long before he had the wipers going and he was ready to head out.
He cast a glance toward Cam and Doug, still shoveling away between the snow-covered cars and pickups. “Come here.” He grabbed her hand and towed her to the back of the Escalade, where they were out of sight of the working men. She went eagerly into the warm circle of his arms.
“Time to get out of here.” His breath came out on a cloud.
“Drive safely. I want you back soon. Very, very soon…”
By way of answer, he bent and pressed his lips—cold on the outside, so warm within—to hers.
The icy day, the growls of snowblowers on Main Street, the scraping of shovels on the frozen blacktop a few feet away—all of that faded to nothing. There was only Justin, his arms tight and cherishing around her, his mouth claiming hers in a bone-melting kiss.
With a regretful growl low in his throat, he lifted his head. “I’ll call you.”
She let out a laugh. “Good luck with that. You don’t even have my number.”
“Katie, you’re the town librarian and you’re like a daughter to Caleb Douglas, who happens to be a colleague of mine. I don’t think you’ll be that hard to track down. Plus, I’d bet the last strip mall I built that you’ve got a listed number.”
“Now, how did you know that?”
“You’re the listed-number type.”
She gave him a frown. “That’s good, right?”
He kissed her nose, her cheeks and even her chin, his lips warm now against her cold skin. Then he pulled away enough to look at her, a deep look, a look she couldn’t quite read. “I have to go.” His arms fell away and he turned toward the driver’s door.
She followed, already missing