Snowbound in Montana (8 page)

“The weather isn’t your fault. You, Griff and Betsy have handled things very well. I wish the others would see this more like an adventure than a disappointment. We’ve all had the usual Christmas with gifts and a turkey dinner. But how many people get to spend Christmas snowbound in a beautiful Montana lodge?”

He smiled, and for the first time she noticed he had a dimple in one cheek. And the eyes she’d thought of as brown, had a ring of green around the pupils.

“I like your attitude, Eliza Bramble. I wish it was shared by more of the group.”

“Well, you’ve got me, at least. And if I was you, I’d take advantage of that fact.”

“Oh?”

Realizing her statement could be taken the wrong way, she felt a flash of embarrassment. “I only meant that I’m willing to chip in and help. I’m sure Betsy would appreciate a hand with the breakfast dishes.”

When they found Betsy melting snow water on the wood-burning stove to wash dishes, the reality of their situation really came home to Eliza. No more dishwasher. From now on all the cleanup would be by hand. They shooed her out so she could catch her breath before she had to start working on lunch, and between them they washed and dried the dishes, cleaned the counters and swept the floors.

“I don’t know how she’s managing,” Eliza said. “At Bramble House all I have to do prepare is breakfast and afternoon tea. I can’t imagine cooking all the daily meals for a group our size.”

“While I can’t even cook for one,” Marshall admitted.

“Then what do you eat?”

“My friends felt sorry for me a few years ago and bought me a panini maker. I eat a lot of sandwiches now. I’m told that’s healthier than subsisting on pizza and macaroni from a box. But I eat a lot of those things, too.”

“How old are you again?”

He laughed. “Don’t judge me until you taste one of my chicken, brie, and spinach paninis.”

And what were the chances, Eliza wondered, that she would ever do that? She realized she hoped they were good. “I’d like that. I’ve been living in Marietta for over two years and I still haven’t made any friends.”

“How is that possible? Marietta is such a friendly town.”

“Oh, I have a lot of acquaintances. But not the sort of friends who would, say, chip in to buy me a panini maker because they were worried I was eating myself into bypass surgery.”

“You could have those sorts of friends if you wanted.”

“I’d like that. Especially if I could count you as one of them.”

He stopped washing dishes for a moment. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he looked at her. But his answer was straight forward enough.

“Absolutely.”

When the dishes were done, Betsy returned to the kitchen to mix up a huge pot of hot cocoa. “See if you can interest the kids in toasting marshmallows.” She handed them a bag full of the fluffy, white cubes, as well as four roasting sticks.

“Ready to brave the restless natives?” Eliza teased Marshall.

“If the prospect of hot cocoa with toasted marshmallows doesn’t cheer them up, nothing will.”

They found everyone gathered in the sitting room. In the four chairs next to the fireplace—two on each side—were the Arbuckles and the Kellys, all of whom were reading. Buck and Bonnie Brackett and Tina and Alec Ritchie, were sprawled on the large sectional sofa facing the fire. On the oak table in the middle, Kevin was building something out of a pile of Lego blocks.

The teenaged girls were in the adjacent dining hall, playing a card game in the corner closest to the cast iron stove.

It was, for the moment, a relatively peaceful scene. One Eliza was hesitant to disrupt. Still, hot cocoa could be nothing but welcome, surely, on a morning like this one. “We’re going to roast some marshmallows for the hot cocoa,” she said. “Anyone want to help?”

“I do!” Kevin jumped up so quickly, he knocked down the tower he’d been building. He hardly seemed to notice, as he reached for one of the roasting sticks.

“We will, too,” said Anna, who brought along with her the Brackett twins.

Marshall handed out the rest of the sticks, then opened the bag of marshmallows. “I assume you’ve all done this before?”

“Of course,” Anna replied, sounding very savoir faire. “You have to avoid the flames if you want the marshmallow to melt in the inside and turn a nice golden brown on the outside.”

“I like mine black,” Kevin replied cheerfully, thrusting his marshmallow into the middle of the dancing orange flames.

“Brothers.” Anna rolled her eyes.

A minute later, Betsy wheeled out a cart containing an urn of hot chocolate and stacks of ceramic mugs, as well as a basket of cookies.

“I found the cookies in the pantry,” she whispered to Eliza. “Not fresh baked, I’m afraid. I hope no one complains.”

“I’m sure they’ll be delicious,” Eliza tried to reassure her, but already Bonnie Brackett had taken a bite and had wrinkled her nose with displeasure.

Eliza felt sorry for Kevin when both his parents declined his charred nuggets in favor of his older sister’s perfectly roasted marshmallows. For a moment he looked downcast, but then he plugged the burned treat into his mouth and went to repeat the process.

When the girls had finished preparing their marshmallow-topped cocoas and returned to their card game, Marshall used one of the roasting sticks to perfectly brown marshmallows for the tops of their cocoa.

“Want to try out the window seat?” he asked. “Or will it be too cold?”

The biggest window in the room faced south to beautiful Mount Baker. It had been built with a wide ledge, about eight feet long, upholstered in a soft, forest-green colored fabric. Plush cushions in coordinating fabrics had been placed at either end of the ledge.

“I dressed warmly this morning. I’ll be fine.”

She and Marshall sat at either end, resting back on the cushions, their feet meeting in the middle so their toes were practically touching. Marshall handed her a wool blanket to drape over her legs, and that made her feel really cozy.

“This is so nice.” She drank in the rich, creamy cocoa and the frosty mountain view at the same time. From sight alone, she could tell it was much colder today. Instead of coming down in pretty, fluffy flakes, the snow had changed to icy, little pellets. Driven by the wind, they came at the window from an angle. She could feel their icy breath seeping in from the walls and drew the blanket in closer.

“Is it my imagination, or is the snow coming down a bit slower now?”

“Let’s hope so.”

But she could tell from his tone, he didn’t believe it for a second.

“Tell me more about your mother,” she segued, while making a mental note to ask Betsy for her cocoa recipe. It tasted like melted dark chocolate, almost as good as the stuff Sage made.

“My mother? What made you think of her?”

“Well, it is Christmas Eve. Doesn’t that make you think about your family?”

He shrugged. “Mom was a librarian. She worked hard when I was a kid, but the bonus was she would always bring home a new story at the end of the day.”

“So you like reading?”

“Yup. When we were little Mom used to read to us every night before we went to sleep. She really got us hooked when she started in on Tom Sawyer, one chapter at a time. Dean and I were so impatient to find out what happened next, we taught ourselves to read before we even started school.”

She imagined two little boys, lying on their covers in their beds, trying to decipher the big words together. “You and Dean were close.”

“Always. Some people can’t understand why I still miss him, since I was so young when he died. But I do. And I always will.”

He was looking out the window as he said this. There was sadness in his face, but also acceptance and peace. Eliza had never experienced the death of someone she loved. But from Marshall, she could see grief wasn’t something you recovered from, but was more like a weight you learned to carry with as much grace as possible.

“Do you see your mother much?”

“I try to visit once a year. Usually on a weekend when her husband is away on a golf weekend with his buddies. That seems to work best.”

“You only stay a weekend?”

“It’s as much as either of us can handle. Mom just gets…uptight when I’m there.”

Eliza was trying, but she couldn’t understand why his mother, having lost one of her twin boys, wouldn’t have clung to the remaining one twice as hard.

“She would never admit this, but I always felt Dean was her favorite. He was naturally chatty and had a talent for making her laugh. On the hand, I never seem to know what to say when I’m around her. Everything feels awkward and wrong.”

“That really sucks, Marshall.”

He looked startled, then laughed. “I guess it does.”

“I understand why you don’t choose to go home for Christmas. But why do you always work for the holidays? Wouldn’t you rather just go to the tropics and try to forget about all the holiday madness?”

“Despite everything, I still love Christmas. Besides the religious meaning, I like being around families, seeing them happy.”

Eliza glanced around the room. With the cocoa break over, people were starting to get restless again. There was a tension in the air, that belied the cheerful fires and the Christmas carols playing softly over the sound system. “I’m guessing this year is an exception.”

“It’s been challenging,” he admitted. “And the hardest part is yet to come.”

‡

L
unch provided the
next note of contention. Once more, Buck wasn’t happy with the menu. The three girls complained about having to stop playing cards, and the Arbuckles insisted the room was just too cold, and took their plates back to the bigger fire in the common room.

Kevin was getting whiney from boredom and kept at his parents, asking them why the family couldn’t have gone snowboarding, instead, for the holidays. “My friends get to go to Big White for Christmas. Why couldn’t we?”

“Why, indeed,” his beleaguered father said quietly.

“I’m sure they’re having the same blizzard at Big White that we’re having here,” Eliza said.

“But I bet they still have power and hot water,” Kevin’s mother pointed out.

“Not to mention turkey,” added Buck.

“And presents!” Kevin added, with heavy emphasis.

Eliza gave Marshall a wry look, hoping to convey that she’d tried to cheer up the crowd. But this particular crowd seemed beyond cheering. She was further disheartened to see Sydney and Jason sitting off by themselves again. They seemed to be deliberately ignoring one another.

Then, when the meal was over, Sydney abruptly stood up. “We’re here to ski. So I think we should ski. Jason? Are you coming with me?”

He looked torn, but after a few seconds, reluctantly stood. “If you’re sure.”

Eliza could tell that Marshall wasn’t very happy about this turn of events. But he stood, too.

“Like I said earlier, it’s an extremely cold day, plus there’s an avalanche risk if you stray off the main property. But I’m happy to take anyone who wants to go out on the three-mile circuit. Anyone interested besides the Kellys?”

No one else was. Eliza, herself, was feeling the pull of a good book. She’d noticed a title on the lodge’s bookshelves she’d been wanting to read for a few years. But she had a hunch Marshall might have his hands full with the Kellys. So she stood, as well. “I’m in.”

“I have to go back to the room to get an extra pair of socks and my sweater,” Sydney said.

“I’ll come, too,” her husband added, following her out of the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want to pass?” Marshall asked Eliza quietly as they headed to the drying room to bundle up.

Eliza picked out her ski boots, stiff from the cold, despite the cast iron stove in the room that was working overtime to keep the brutal cold out of the lodge. She didn’t really feel like slipping these onto her feet. But she had a weird feeling about the Kellys. They were on the verge of a massive blow-out, she was afraid. And she didn’t think it was fair for Marshall to risk being subjected to that without back-up.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “With that cold wind, I bet the Kellys don’t last more than ten minutes.”

But they did last ten minutes. After the first mile, they seemed to be lagging a bit and Marshall signalled a return to the lodge.

Sydney shook her head, “No.”

And so, they continued skiing. Eliza bent her head against the wind. Despite her warm toque, and the face protector that shielded everything but her eyes, her nose and cheeks were so cold they hurt. Tears welled in her eyes, then froze on her lashes. Even her lungs ached, every time she drew in a breath.

She began cursing Sydney with each stride she took. What was she trying to prove by making them ski in this crazy weather? She couldn’t be enjoying this. Could she?

The next time Eliza turned round, the Kellys were gone. She tried to call out to Marshall, but the wind just swallowed her words. Fortunately, just a few second later, Marshall also paused to check on the group. In a flash, he changed direction and skied back to her.

“Where are the Kellys?” he hollered at her, so she’d hear him above the raging wind.