LITMIR.BIZ

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tea and the glass pitcher of grape drink. “And coffee. Or a cold drink…”

      He got up. “You?”

      “Coffee sounds good. With a little cream.”

      He poured them each a cup, splashed cream from a little stoneware pitcher into hers and handed it over with a courtly, “Mrs. Caldwell.”

      She played along. “Mr. Caldwell.” Really, she was grateful he was taking this so calmly.

      He sank into his chair again and sipped the hot brew. “Now we’re married, I think you’re going to have to call me Justin.”

      She had that silly, nervous urge to laugh again. She quelled it. “By all means. And please. Call me Katie. I firmly believe married people should be on a firstname basis with each other.”

      “I agree. Katie.” He finished off the rest of his sandwich. She held out the tray and he took another. She took one, too. He asked, “So how was that train ride?”

      She rolled her eyes. “I should have taken a club car.”

      About then, the false cheer they were both trying to keep up deserted them. They sat silent, like the strangers they really were, eating their sandwiches, listening to the wind whistling in the eaves outside.

      Eventually, he turned to her, his expression grave. “Will anyone else show up?”

      “In this?” She gestured at the six-over-six front windows. Beyond the golden glow of the porch light, there was only darkness and hard-blowing snow. “I don’t think so.”

      He turned and looked at the round institutionalstyle clock on the wall above the desk. It was six thirty-five. “How long will we be stuck here?”

      He would have to ask that. She cleared her throat. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, the snow will stop soon.”

      “And if it doesn’t?”

      Katie sighed. “Good question. We’ll just have to wait and see how bad it gets.”

      “Should we call someone, let them know we arrived here and we’re safe?” He felt in his pockets. “Damn…”

      “What?”

      “I left my cell in my own clothes, back at the hall.” He produced a handsome calfskin wallet and waved at her. “The good news is I’ve got plenty of cash.”

      Katie forced a grin. “Whew. I was worried. What if we wanted to do a little shopping?” He made a sound halfway between a grunt and a chuckle, and she added, on a more somber note, “And cell phones don’t work all that well around these parts, anyway. Lots of mountains. Not many cell towers.”

      “I knew that,” he said, his mouth twisting wryly.

      She set her coffee cup on the edge of the reception desk, reached for the phone and put it to her ear. “Dead.” Carefully, she set it back in its cradle.

      “Terrific.”

      “Count your blessings,” she advised, trying to keep things positive. “At least we still have heat and electricity. And plenty of water, as long as the pipes don’t freeze.”

      He didn’t look too reassured, but he got the message. “Right. Might as well look on the bright side.”

      “Exactly.”

      Rising, he went to the trays of food and chose another sandwich.

      The museum had propane heat throughout, but there was also the remains of a fire in the potbellied stove in the corner. Katie got up and put in another log. She jabbed it with the poker until it was well nestled in the bright coals. The red flames licked up.

      She shut the stove door and turned—to find him watching her again. “Is something the matter?”

      He frowned. “No. Of course not—well, except for the situation we’re in here.”

      “You keep looking at me strangely.”

      His gaze remained far too watchful—for a moment. And then he shrugged. “Forgive me. I’m just…curious about you, I guess. Caleb Douglas told me you’re the ‘little girl he never had.’ He raised you, I take it?”

      She had no idea why she felt reluctant to answer him. What was there to hide? She said, “My mother and Adele were both from Philadelphia, best friends at Bryn Mawr—you did meet Addy, didn’t you?”

      “I did.” He looked like he was waiting to hear more.

      So she elaborated. “They had an instant connection, my mother and Addy, from the way Addy tells it. And their families were friends. When my parents died, I was fourteen. There was really no one left in my immediate family to take me. Addy came and got me.” Katie smiled at the memory—Adele, with her suitcases at her feet in the foyer of the Center City brownstone near Rittenhouse Square that had belonged to Katie’s grandparents and their parents before them. When Katie came down the stairs to meet her, Adele held out her arms, her blue eyes shining with tears…

      Katie swallowed down the emotion the memory brought with it and Justin asked, “Adele brought you here, then—to Thunder Canyon?”

      “That’s right, to live with her and Caleb.”

      “And you loved it.”

      “Yes, I did. From the first.”

      “Because?”

      She hesitated. Could he really want to hear all this? But he was looking at her expectantly. So she told him, “It was…just what I’d needed. A close-knit community, where people looked out for each other. I lived at the Lazy D through my teenage years, went to Thunder Canyon High and then on to college in Colorado. As Caleb told you, he and Addy never had a daughter, so it worked out beautifully. For all of us.”

      “All?”

      “Caleb. Addy. And Riley. Have you met Riley?”

      He nodded. “Their son. Caleb introduced me to him a few days ago—and I suppose he’s like a big brother to you?”

      She picked up her soggy skirt so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and padded to one of the front windows, where she looked out at the porch, the darkness and the driving snow beyond. “Yes. I think of Riley like a brother…” She turned back to him. “They’re fine people.” Did she sound defensive? A little. She wasn’t really sure why. Something hostile in the way he’d spoken of Riley, maybe.

      But why in the world would Justin Caldwell be hostile toward Riley, whom he’d only just met? Clearly, the stress of their situation was getting to her, making her read things into his tone that weren’t there.

      She tried for a lighter note. “Caleb is so pleased that you’ve invested in his ski resort.” Caleb had always been a wheeler-dealer. The resort was a longtime dream of his and it was finally coming true. He’d opened an office on Main Street for the project—complete with a model of the future resort in the waiting room—and hired a secretary. Thunder Canyon Ski Resort would be built on a ridge about twenty miles out of town on land the Douglases had owned for generations. Caleb had worked for months, hunting down investors. Everything had finally fallen into place in the past few weeks. Caleb had told her proudly that Justin’s company, Red Rock Developers, was the main reason it was all working out.

      “I think it’s a solid investment,” Justin said.

      “Good for everyone, then.”

      “Yes. Absolutely.”

      Another silence descended. Oh, this was all so awkward. If she had to get herself stranded in a blizzard, you’d think it might have been with someone she knew. Or at least, maybe someone less…attractive.

      He was almost too good-looking, really. And she felt a certain fluttery sensation in her midsection every time she glanced his way. Her excited response to him made her wary.

      She wondered if

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