Chapter Two
Agust of wind blewsnow off the inn’s roof and straight down Owen’s neck. His hands ached from gripping the axe and his nose was hurting from the cold. “Come on universe, cut me some slack here.” He glared up at the cloudy sky. More snow was coming. Hopefully not a blizzard. His aching thigh told him this storm would be a bad one and he wanted to get the shoveling done in time to chop some extra wood before Mother Nature slammed them full force. Occasionally, the inn lost power. If that happened, they’d need wood for heat.
The weather channel was calling for six inches in twenty-four hours. He hadn’t seen a snowfall like that since he was a kid. He’d served part of a tour in Siberia and it hadn’t dumped like that. He leaned on his shovel, taking a moment to regain the breath stolen by the icy snow and his efforts to clear the walks. Shoveling was hard work. The inn needed a new snow blower. Maybe he’d remind Ophelia when she got back to either order parts for the old one or to buy a new one. It wasn’t that he minded the physical work, he loved it. But for big dumps, a snow blower would be nice.
Thank heaven the inn wasn’t scheduled to be crowded today; with shoveling and wood chopping, he had plenty of work without taking over Ophelia’s jobs too. They’d been booked solid on the weekend and all but two couples had checked out. Early December wasn’t their busiest time, but later this month, the crowds would roll in and they’d be packed until after the new year. It was probably the worst time of year for Ophelia to take a vacation.
Okay, not a vacation exactly. Her best friend was dealing with a recurring cancer and her doctors didn’t hold out much hope of recovery. Fern had no dependents and from what he understood, a sizeable nest egg. She’d chosen to spend some of it searching for a legendary cure in the wilds of Nepal. He couldn’t say he blamed her. In the same position, he’d fight for his life with everything he had.
Twilight was falling fast and he had to get the wood chopped. It was already after five and the sun went down by six. He’d get this done, even if he had to chop in the dark with only yard lights to guide his strokes. As a soldier, he’d worked in worse conditions. At least here he had a warm bed to go to and a hot meal, even if he had to cook it himself. Thankfully he was a decent cook.
The Sleigh Bells Inn offered full breakfasts in the morning, and desserts and coffee all day, but no dinner service. Usually, he’d eat a bagged lunch at noon and go home to his tiny apartment in Snowy Hollow for dinner. For the next few weeks, maybe months, he’d be staying in the owner’s apartment behind the registration desk and office.
And he’d be sharing the suite with Amaryllis North. The prettiest girl ever to set foot in Snowy Hollow High School. As a youth, he’d wanted her so badly, but respected her family too much to approach her. He’d dated practically every other girl in school. Usually on the sly without their parents knowing. Girls loved his bad boy reputation; parents did not.
When Rill was finally eighteen, old enough to pursue without fear of reprisal, he was in the military and long gone from Snowy Hollow. He’d been young and cocky and had made one too many mistakes. He’d joined up to avoid a prison sentence for getting into a bar fight. The hard-nosed judge helped Owen realize that a stint in the army might be the best way to turn his life around.
Later, he’d screwed up big time while on leave and gotten his girlfriend pregnant. For all that he’d been a delinquent, he’d matured and done the right thing.
He’d married Kiya and had been happy, more or less. They’d been friends, and lovers, but he suspected that what they’d shared hadn’t been a soul connection or true love. They’d been, for lack of a better description, content. Until the fight. The fight that cost him his wife, his unborn child, and his youth.
Unwilling to linger in his grief, he picked up the shovel and with the renewed energy from his short rest, he cleared the last twenty feet of walkway and headed to the shed to stow the shovel and retrieve the axe. He had wood to chop before he ate.
Moisture pooled between his shoulder blades and trickled down his back as he chopped. Even at minus ten Celsius, he was working up a sweat. He had shed his jacket shortly after starting. Now, he was down to his long-sleeved t-shirt. He knew better than to strip entirely. He’d catch a chill without knowing it.
Ophelia had left at dawn and wouldn’t be back for weeks, and he had to keep healthy at least until her niece arrived. What had Ophelia said? The day after tomorrow? What would Amaryllis be like now? He’d thought of her a lot over the years; she was like a burr stuck to his skin that wouldn’t leave. The smallest things reminded him of her. Last week he’d noticed a fashion magazine at the grocery store and recalled how she’d designed and sewn all her own clothing as a teen. She’d worn some crazy outfits back then. They’d all been unconventional, even a bit weird, but they’d all suited her cheerful personality.
He set another log on its end on the spruce chopping block and raised the axe over his head. He paused infinitesimally before swinging it down and dividing the round in half with an ear-splitting thud. He picked up one half, positioned it, and struck again.
Over and over. Log after log; until the pile beside him was knee deep.
It didn’t matter, he couldn’t get Amaryllis off his mind. She was still pretty. Ophelia had a picture of her as the inn’s computer’s screen saver. Not beautiful, but pretty, in a cute pixie-ish way. Shoulder length blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes. Even in high school, she’d been cheerful all the time. She’d been smart too. Happy and generous. She was the full meal deal. Exactly what he’d always wanted in a life partner.
He regretted not getting to know her better when they were younger. Then, his massive screw up had changed his life, and she’d left for the bright lights of the city. They were worlds apart.
So much had changed in their lives, it was almost hard to comprehend. And she was coming home. At least temporarily. She’d always been his type; he’d need to be on his guard against falling for her. No way would he risk his job by tangling up with his boss’s niece.
