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She stopped on the next page, looking at one of a group of women all sitting on the sofa in Emma’s living room. Lacy, Louise, Colette, Emma, and Sarah were all piled on the couch, grinning like mad as they held up one individual red rose apiece. It had beenThe Bachelorfinale, and Emma had wanted to host a viewing party. So they’d all crammed into the living room, Colette had made everyone hot chocolate and bought them roses, and Louise had brought everyone food from Frosty’s.
Colette could remember how in the middle of the finale, Emma had reached over and patted Colette’s leg.
“You should go on this show,” the old woman had whispered.
Colette had laughed her off, saying that she had everything she needed right here in Snowy Pine Ridge. But now, she couldn’t help but wonder if she should have taken Emma a little more seriously. Not necessarily about going on reality TV, but maybe she should’ve taken finding love a little more seriously. There were plenty of eligible men in town. The problem was that Colette knew all of them already and had no interest in dating a single one of them.
When Emma had been alive, taking care of her had filled Colette with a sense of purpose and companionship. Now, she felt lost in a swath of endless time with nothing to do.
Colette had never been someone who felt lonely. Alone, yes. But never lonely. Not until now.
She sighed and took another sip of her tea, draining the last bit from the mug before she flipped another page that led her down a different path on memory lane.
A loudbangfollowed by a string of cursing outside grabbed her attention, and her heart began to race.
Pushing herself to her feet, Colette crept toward the window. She pulled back her heavy, green plaid curtain and peered into the yard and at the main house beyond. A car she didn’t recognize was parked in the drive, and a large, bundled up form was stumbling around on the front porch. Crime wasn’t something that many people concerned themselves with in Snowy Pine Ridge, but there was a first time for everything.
For a moment, Colette glanced at the phone and wondered if she should call 9-1-1, but she quickly dismissed the idea. The town wasn’t even large enough to have its own dedicated police force. And she couldn’t imagine that the sheriff, a stout man with a round belly due to his fondness of eggnog and other sweets, would be in a much better position than she was to stave off trouble.
Colette threw a hurried glance around her cottage for anything that could be used as a weapon. Spying a wrought iron fire poker, she grabbed it, threw on her boots and her winter coat, and strode out into the snowy day.
She tried as hard as she could to be quiet, but the sound of the crunching snow under her weight announced her arrival. She kept the fire poker behind her back as she approached cautiously, and the figure ahead of her turned with a jolt.
Confusion and surprise washed through Colette as she took in the man standing before her. A tendril of auburn hair had fallen onto his forehead and was peeking out from beneath the hood of his coat. His eyes were startlingly green, even at a distance. And he had a jawline that Colette couldn’t recall seeing outside of old Hollywood movies. Now that she was closer to him, she realized he was taller than he had looked from the safety in her cottage, and his broad-shouldered frame loomed over her.
“Hello,” Colette said, swallowing past the nervous lump that had formed in her throat. “How can I help you?”
The man pushed back his hood and blinked at her with those disconcertingly attractive eyes. “Louise said to knock, but I only realized when I got here that she didn’t say on which door.”
“Louise sent you?” Colette furrowed her brow in confusion. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”
She winced at the last sentence, realizing that it had come out harsher than she’d intended.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling at himself. “I guess that information would have helped. My name is Zach McKnight. I’m going to be staying in town for at least a month, and Louise mentioned you had a house that might be available to rent for that time?”
Now it was Colette’s turn to blink at him. Louise’s visit hadn’t been long ago, only a few days. The woman moved quickly, Colette had to give her that.
“Or maybe she was mistaken?” Zach’s eyebrows knitted together, and he looked at her warily.
It was only then that Colette realized she had been staring at him with her mouth slightly agape as she tried to process the fact that Louise had sent him to her to rent Emma’s house. She shook her head to clear, affixing a smile on her face.
“No, Louise was right. The house is available for short- or long-term rental. If you want to follow me, we can go over the details.”
Colette hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward her cottage, and a feeling that was half gratitude and half anxiety washed through her when Zach nodded. She turned and began making her way back through the yard toward her front door.
“Were you going to bludgeon me to death?” Zach’s voice came from behind her as he followed the path she was carving through the snow.
“What?” She glanced over her shoulder and shot him a bewildered look. But when he shifted his focus down to the hand that still clutched the fire poker, she flushed as she remembered she was still holding the poker. “Oh, that. Well, I didn’t know what was causing all the noise, so I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.”
“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to be so loud. Did you know you have a metal bucket by the door that’s really hard to see when it’s covered in snow?”
Colette laughed as she finally put together the pieces of exactly what had occurred, picturing Zach tripping over it and the resulting noise that had grabbed her attention. When they arrived at the cottage, she pushed open the door, and the warmth from the fire rushed forward to greet them. She kicked the snow from her boots and left them by the door as she walked over to the kitchen.
“Can I get you anything to drink? Water, tea, hot chocolate?”
She fully expected him to say no, so when Zach answered her with a, “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” a small shock zipped through her. She hurriedly threw together two hot chocolates topped with whipped cream and peppermint sprinkles and then padded across the hardwood floor to where he’d sat in a plush chair by the fire.
He’d taken off his coat when he’d come in the door, and the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt were pushed up, exposing muscular forearms. He was probably about her age, she surmised, although there was something energetic and confident about him that made her feel like an old woman in comparison.
