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3
DALLAS
Oh,hellno.
That was my reaction to what I saw outside. I’d barely gotten the door open when sheets of snow assaulted me. They blasted in past the door and onto the floor around my feet.
The weird thing was, it didn’t seem to bother Phoebe at all. She actually looked relieved as she sat in front of the log fire—literally in front of it on the floor, legs crossed, blanket covering her lap. She was cold, and I wanted to keep her warm.
That was at the heart of why the sheets of snow were a problem. I could carry her to the truck and deposit her on the passenger seat if needed. But I didn’t want to leave her at the top of that mountain.
No, I wanted to keep this angel all to myself.
“It’s coming down hard out there,” I said, shrugging out of my coat and hanging it on the hook.
“Do you think it’ll lighten up?” she asked. “I don’t want to miss the wedding.”
“When is it?”
“Tomorrow. We were all supposed to arrive today.”
I looked out the kitchen window as I stood in the center of my living room. “And you think they’ll be able to make it up the hill in this?”
“Maybe the sun will come out.” She pushed herself to her feet, looking around. “I guess there’s no way to check the weather forecast.”
I laughed. “I just go with the flow here. Whatever happens with the weather happens.”
That probably made sense to nobody but me, but I prided myself on being completely self-reliant. It was exactly the type of thing I prepared for throughout the year.
“How do you keep up with what’s going on in the world?” She looked around my cabin. “Politics, war…if the world was coming to an end, would you know?”
“Probably not.” I shrugged. “I have everything I need here except…”
My mouth got ahead of my brain there. But that one word, “except,” had gotten her attention. She was staring at me now.
“Except a woman,” she said.
Now I was the one staring. No way had I imagined her jumping to that conclusion, even though it was exactly what I meant.
“Except a woman,” I said. “It’s been a while.”
She said nothing, continuing to stare at me as I struggled to find words. I was a man of very few. I’d learned long ago to keep my mouth shut and my nose in my own business.
“Not many women around these parts,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of that beautiful mouth of hers. “My cousin told me about that.”
“Your cousin?”
“Emerald. She’s the one getting married tomorrow. To Bo Phillips?”
“The bartender?”
I knew full well who Bo Phillips was. His dad lived just a mile away. But I had no idea the son of the owner of the only restaurant in town was getting married. And that he was partly to thank for the beautiful woman who’d landed in my life.
“Yeah, not too many women in Blackbear Bluff.” I turned and started toward the kitchen, mostly to put some distance between me and this woman. “I don’t know where guys like Bo are getting them.”
“So, you don’t date?”
Her question froze me in my tracks. I turned and looked at her, just steps from the fridge that held my beer.
