Brenda Novak - Snow Baby

“Hmm…maybe I’m not as tired as I thought,” she said, but before Dillon could take her up on the invitation, they heard some kind of heavy machinery moving toward them.

Chantel groaned. “A snowplow. They’re here, aren’t they?”

Dillon listened to the noise get louder and louder as the plow made its way through the heavy snow. “That’s my guess.”

She sighed and studied him, looking somber for the first time that morning. “I haven’t thanked you for coming back for me, Dillon. Who knows how long I would’ve had to wait before the police found me? I couldn’t even give them good directions. What you did was so brave.”

He wiggled his brows to make her laugh again. “And I’ve been handsomely rewarded.”

“Roll over and let me hold you,” she said. “Just until they get here.”

He obeyed, and she curved her body, spoon-fashion, along the back of his.

“What are we going to do about clothes?” she asked, the noise of the plow nearly drowning out her voice. “I don’t like the idea of being caught in such a vulnerable position.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get out and take care of everything. You can stay modestly covered back here.”

“Thanks, Dillon.”

“Chantel?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Can I call you when we get home?” he asked, half-afraid she’d refuse him for some reason only she knew.

But a yes sounded in his ear, and he smiled and pulled her arms more tightly around him.

CHANTEL DREW a deep breath and stared up at the A-frame log cabin that corresponded to the address on the directions Stacy had given her—and wished she was still with Dillon. After all the highs and lows of the past night, she felt physically and emotionally spent. The last thing she wanted to do right now was face her sister.

If only she hadn’t given her word and could simply head back home—

“Omigosh, Chantel, what happened to you?” Stacy appeared in the doorway and frowned at the damaged Jaguar. “Now your car doesn’t look any better than my Honda.”

Chantel gave her a tired grin, feeling awkward and unsure of how to greet her sister. Should she rush over and hug Stacy as though they hadn’t been estranged for ten years? Just smile and wave “hello”?

Remembering her sister’s cold response the first time Chantel had contacted her—when she’d just returned from New York and had blubbered her way through a painful apology—she opted for the smile and jammed her hands in her pockets. “Would you believe I got stuck in the storm last night and had to wait for the police to bring a tow and get me out?”

“Are you kidding? Why didn’t you call me?”

I’ve been worried. For a split second, Chantel hoped to hear those words, but Stacy didn’t add them. “I drove off without the phone number.” She chuckled, feeling her palms start to sweat and wishing, more than ever, that she could climb back in her car and drive away.

“Are you okay?”

I’ve been worried.

Again the words didn’t come. Chantel clenched her fists in the pockets of her baggy jeans. Her sister would never say anything that indicated that she still cared. Why hope?

“I think I’ll be better after I shower and have something to eat. Tell me this place has hot water.”

“It does. Everyone else left to go skiing, so the bathrooms are free.”

“Oh! I’m sorry if waiting for me made you miss the fun.”

Stacy paused halfway between the door and the Jaguar. “No, actually I’m expecting someone else. He’ll be here anytime.”

Chantel felt a blush heat her cheeks. What had she been thinking? She forced a smile. “So you’ve met a guy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You never mentioned him on the phone.”

“There wasn’t any reason to go into it. I told you I was inviting a few friends, and I did.”

“Well, tell me about him,” Chantel said, trying to act like any normal sister would. Besides Stacy’s father, who lived a hermit’s life somewhere in New Mexico, they had no family left. Whether either of them wanted to admit it or not, they needed each other.

Stacy shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“Where did you meet?”

“At the hospital. We’ve known each other for a couple of years.”

“He’s a doctor?”

“No, he was there for a meeting with one of the doctors. He was handling the majority of the tenant improvements for the medical building next door.”

“And you really like him?”

For a moment Stacy’s hard shell cracked and she gave Chantel a genuine smile. “Like him! You should see him! I’ve never been so head over heels in love. I’m going to marry this one or die trying.”

Chantel laughed. “Wow. He must be something. I can’t wait to meet him.”

The shadow of old pain fell across Stacy’s face, making Chantel regret the simple offhand remark. “Stacy—”

“I know. You’d better have that shower,” she said briskly. “Let’s take your stuff inside.”

Trying to remember the warmth and approval she’d felt with Dillon, Chantel focused on his parting kiss and his promise to call her as soon as she arrived home.

She could do this. She was only staying in Tahoe till Sunday, and thinking of Dillon would get her through the weekend.

Thinking of Dillon could get her through anything.

HAD STACY’S BOYFRIEND arrived? Chantel stepped out of the shower and listened for voices in the living room as she pulled on the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she’d had her sister toss in the dryer, but heard nothing beyond the distant drone of the television.

“Stace?” she called out.

A light step sounded in the hall, and her sister poked her head into the bedroom just as Chantel began to work the snarls out of her long hair. “You done?”

“Yeah. It felt great. Is your friend here?”

“Not yet. He called to say he stopped off for a late breakfast. He’ll be here any minute.”

Chantel smiled at her sister’s barely concealed excitement. “You still want to get married, Stace?”

“If I want kids, I don’t have a lot of time to waste. I’m already thirty-two.” She fingered Chantel’s expensive leather luggage.

“That’s only three years older than me.” Only, I don’t have to worry about getting married…or having kids. Instinctively Chantel pressed a hand to her stomach. The ultimate price. She wondered if Stacy would more easily forgive her if she knew, then rejected the idea. She wouldn’t play on her sister’s sympathy. That was cowardly. She’d gotten what she deserved. Wasn’t that what Wade had said the last time she’d seen him?

For once in his life he’d been right.

“After age thirty, three years counts for a lot,” Stacy said, plopping down on the bed while Chantel applied lotion to her face.

“While the rest of us were dreaming of having careers, you always wanted to marry and settle down,” Chantel murmured.

“Ever since I graduated from high school, but all too often I made the mistake of bringing them home. Then they’d see you.”

And what had stopped her from finding a husband during the past ten years, while Chantel was in New York?

Chantel stifled the defensive retort. She didn’t want to start a fight. She was here to rebuild her relationship with Stacy, not destroy it. “I’m sorry, Stace. I can’t understand why anyone would rather be with me than you.”

Her sister sighed. “Look in the mirror, Chantel. That explains everything.”

Chantel gazed into the mirror that contrasted her tall lean form with her sister’s short slightly stocky build, her light eyes with her sister’s chocolate-colored irises.

“We’re as opposite as night and day, aren’t we?” Stacy said.

“My father was tall and blond, yours short and dark. Mother loved them both. We didn’t get to place an order. I certainly never asked to be six feet tall.”