On a Snowy Night: The Christmas BasketThe Snow Bride

  She pantomimed zipping her lips closed.

  Reid wanted to reach for the book and turn to the last page to prove her wrong, but that would’ve been childish. Besides, having already read the story, she was in a position to know.

  “Look at you,” she said, sounding absolutely delighted.

  “What?”

  “You’re trying to figure out who else it might be.”

  She was right. That was exactly what he’d been doing.

  “Tell me about Addy and Palmer,” Jenna said.

  They were a thorn in his side and—at the same time—two of his greatest friends. “Addy and Palmer both came up to work on the pipeline a hundred years ago, made big money, blew their wad and then stayed in the state. Pretty soon, they were drifting from town to town. They settled here because they knew Jake and he gave them enough work to keep them occupied and out of trouble.”

  “They seem harmless enough.”

  Reid nodded. “They are certainly characters.”

  Jenna laughed softly. “Did you see the look on Addy’s face when I scooped up a ladle full of stew? I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head.”

  “That was just his way of warning you not to take more than your fair share.”

  “So I assumed.”

  “Anybody else you want to know about?”

  “Tell me about Jim and Lucy.” They were the only married couple in town. She’d seen a few men wandering around before the storm hit. Since then, everyone seemed to have hunkered down to wait it out.

  “Well, you already met Jim.”

  “You wanted me to stay with him and your sister, didn’t you?”

  Reid shrugged. So much for the best-laid plans. “Yeah, but Lucy was in Fairbanks and now Jim’s there, too. What would you like to know about them?”

  She looked unsure. “Addy told me Lucy agreed to marry Jim and live here only if she could return to Fairbanks every so often.”

  “That’s true. Lucy says it’s because she’s the only woman in Snowbound.”

  A one-woman town. “She must be lonely.”

  “Nah, Addy and Palmer are company for her—”

  “Addy and Palmer,” Jenna repeated, sounding incredulous. “They’re men.”

  Reid couldn’t see why that made any difference. “I’m here, too.” She ignored that.

  “Lucy must crave female companionship. She’s way up here, completely isolated from her friends and everything that’s convenient and familiar. I don’t know how she does it.”

  Reid hadn’t thought of it that way.

  “No wonder she flies into Fairbanks every chance she gets.”

  “She only goes about once a month. She might fly in more often now that she’s pregnant.”

  “She’s pregnant?”

  “Only a few months. She’s got Jim flying in all kinds of equipment for that baby. I had no idea babies needed that much stuff.” Actually Reid was thrilled for his sister and her husband.

  “I haven’t met Lucy yet, but already I admire her,” Jenna said solemnly.

  Now that he considered it, his sister did deserve a lot of credit. Moving to Snowbound couldn’t have been easy for her. Lucy invited him to dinner once a week, but he’d never realized how lonely she must be for female friends.

  “She obviously loves Jim very much.” Jenna said this with unmistakable awe.

  “She does.” The conversation was growing a bit uncomfortable for Reid. He didn’t understand women, not even his sister. Romance had never played a large role in his life. Most women seemed mysterious and temperamental—as much a mystery to him as the novel he was reading. Still, he liked women; he adored Lucy and he had several female friends, including Susan Webster in Fairbanks, whom he met for dinner every once in a while. Even his one semi-serious relationship had ended without pain or suffering on either side.

  And Reid had to admit he enjoyed talking to Jenna; when they managed to avoid the subject of Dalton, they were able to find common ground without difficulty.

  “Care to play another game of cribbage?” he asked. Now that he was awake, he wasn’t the least bit sleepy.

  “No, thanks. I think I’ll go back to bed.”

  He didn’t let his disappointment show. “I’ll put the door in place for you.”

  She took another sip of the liquor and blinked away tears.

  Reid found it difficult not to smile.

  “I am sorry about the door,” she said carefully as she took her empty glass to the tiny kitchen.

  “I was the one who tore it down.”

  “Yes, I know, but I shouldn’t have put a chair under the doorknob. Other than holding me captive, you seem to be an honorable man.”

  “Except for that one minor detail.”

  “Right.” But she was smiling when she said it.

  The oddest sensation came over him. It was as though Jenna’s smile had traveled all the way through his body. He actually felt it. He wasn’t the most intuitive of men, but he sensed that this smile offered his absolution. A forgiveness of sorts…an understanding.

  He didn’t want their night to end. He didn’t want her to go to bed, to leave him alone with his thoughts—and his yearnings. Unfortunately he couldn’t think of any way to stop her.

  “Don’t bother about the door,” Jenna said. “Since it’s in two pieces.”

  She had a point. “I don’t suppose it would help much if someone wanted to break in. Not that anyone’s going to.” He hoped to convey that she was perfectly safe with him.

  “Night, Reid.”

  He lingered in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. “Night.” As he turned away, he heard the mattress shift and realized she was already back in bed. His bed. He tried not to think about that—her hair spread out on his pillow, his blankets covering her…. Reluctantly he returned to his makeshift bed on the sofa, which was less than comfortable. Lying down, he tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

  Try as he might, he couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about Jenna and the way her smile had affected him. It was a small thing—and yet it wasn’t. Maybe he was going soft in the head. He recalled when Jim and his sister had first met. His friend walked around town wearing a funny grin, and flew into Fairbanks so often people began to wonder how he could still manage his job. Then before Reid understood what was happening, Jim had asked Lucy to be his wife, and his sister was living in Snowbound.

  A sleepless hour passed and then he heard Jenna climb out of bed. The mattress squeaked, followed by the sound of her feet shuffling on the floor.

  “Jenna?” he called in a loud whisper.

  She didn’t respond for a moment. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No,” he said. “I can’t get back to sleep.”

  “Me, neither.” She padded into the darkened room. “Don’t turn on the lights, all right?”

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  Again she hesitated. “I don’t know…It’s more…relaxed with them off.”

  “Okay.” He sat up.

  “Do you mind if we talk for a few minutes?”

  Mind? Of course he didn’t mind. “What do you want to talk about?”

  She sat on the corner of the sofa in the same position she’d assumed earlier, feet up, knees bent. “I want to ask you something.”

  Reid hoped it wouldn’t be a personal question; he wasn’t good at answering those. “Fire away,” he muttered.

  She didn’t speak immediately, and when she did, her question took him by surprise. “Why do you live up here so isolated from the world?”

  “You mean in Alaska or in Snowbound?”

  “Snowbound.”

  That was easy enough. “I work here.”

  “Monitoring the pump station for the pipeline?”

  “Yes.” It was a good job and he enjoyed his work.

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “For eight hours every day, I’m at the station monitoring the flow of crude oil. It might not sound i
nvolved, but it actually is.”

  “Do you have a lot of free time?”

  “Some.” He didn’t elaborate.

  “How do you spend it? Doing what?”

  Reid paused. She was right; talking in the dark was more relaxed, but even in the anonymity of the night, there were certain subjects that left him uneasy.

  “Is that such a difficult question?” she asked, a smile in her voice.

  “No, it’s just that I never told anyone—none of my family or friends.”

  “It’s a secret?”

  “Not exactly, but it’s private.” He wished he knew how to turn the conversation in a different direction, but verbal maneuvers had never been his forte.

  Jenna’s voice rose with enthusiasm. “Now I’m fascinated.”

  “Tell me something about you first.”

  “Me? No fair. We’re discussing you.”

  “Tell me a secret. Something few people know about you.”

  “I don’t have any secrets,” she insisted.

  “You do. Everyone has secrets.”

  “All right.” She sighed, and Reid could see she wasn’t happy about this. “I bit my nails until I was sixteen.”

  “Now that’s shocking.”

  She slapped playfully at him and managed to graze his elbow.

  Reid chuckled. “You really are an innocent, aren’t you?”

  “It’s men,” she said, speaking in a whisper. “I don’t have what it takes to attract them.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Look at me—I’m thirty-one and the only successful relationship I’ve ever had was over the Internet. I think there must be something seriously wrong with me.”

  Oh, boy. Reid was stumbling into territory he had no desire to explore. It did explain why she’d sought out Dalton Gray, though. She was getting desperate and afraid, and a man, especially one she’d met online, must have seemed safe. Little did she know she was about to tangle with a tundra rat.

  “I’m like everyone else. I want a husband and family but I just don’t know how to attract a man.”

  “And that’s why you’re in Alaska.”

  She didn’t confirm or deny the statement. The words fell between them, and then she seemed to gather herself emotionally, reminding him it was his turn. “What’s your deep, dark secret?”

  Reid wasn’t ready to drop the matter. “Why, Jenna? I don’t understand it. You’re a beautiful, desirable woman.” It probably wasn’t good manners to admit that, especially while they were sitting in the dark, both of them a little tipsy.

  “I’d rather not discuss me anymore, okay?”

  That was a problem, because Reid wasn’t eager to drag his private life into the open, either. “I need another drink.”

  “Me, too,” she said. As he got up to refill their glasses, she added, “Don’t think you’re going to escape from telling me your secret.”

  He returned a couple of minutes later and they sat beside each other on the sofa, so close their shoulders touched.

  “Does it have to do with being spurned by a woman?” she asked in a low voice. “Or did you commit a crime? Or—”

  His nervousness made him laugh. “Not exactly. Okay, here’s my secret. You asked me what I do with my free time. Well, I draw. I’m—”

  “What?” she demanded, outraged.

  “I said I like to draw. Especially landscapes. I—”

  “You mean to say being an artist is your deep, dark secret?” She set aside her drink and got to her feet. “I should’ve known you’d pull something like this. I spill my guts, tell you how hopeless I am with men and you—you tell me you like to draw.”

  Reid stood, too. “Well, I’m sorry, but that really is my biggest secret.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  He caught her by the shoulders. “I’m not. I swear I’m not. I’ve had a knack since I was a kid, but I never did anything with it and now…I guess I’m not ready to tell anyone because I’m not sure I’m any good, beyond having a…superficial facility, I suppose you could say.” He shrugged. “I’m not ready to have my work judged.”

  He ran his hands over the curve of her shoulders. With all his heart he wanted her to understand he wasn’t teasing her. “I draw, Jenna, and that’s the honest-to-God truth.”

  “This is baring your soul?”

  “I’ve never told anyone about it before.” He’d fumbled this whole conversation.

  “No one else in Snowbound knows? Not even your sister?”

  “No one.”

  “Oh.” Her response was the merest whisper.

  His fingers relaxed against her shoulders. She felt so small and soft and utterly feminine. His pulse started to react to her nearness—the first sign he was in trouble—but he didn’t break away from her. He knew he should drop his hands and back off before he did something they’d both regret. Instead he drew her closer. He refused to listen to common sense, which was ordering him to stop. Ignoring all caution, Reid lowered his mouth to hers.

  Jenna leaned into him. A tiny sound came from her just before their lips touched, but for the life of him Reid didn’t know if it was a sigh of welcome or a groan of protest. Either way, she was in his arms and she seemed willing enough to be there. He fully intended to follow through with this.

  The instant their mouths connected, Reid swore he felt something explode inside him. Jenna must have felt it, too, because the next thing he knew, they were both sitting on the sofa again, their arms locked around each other. His fingers were in her hair, and hers were tugging at his shirt collar. It took him far longer than he wanted to collect his wits and move away.

  Breathing hard, Jenna hung her head.

  Reid was having a difficult time recovering his own breath. He thought she might want an apology, but it simply wasn’t in him to find any regret.

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” she said sternly.

  Unable to speak, he simply nodded.

  “That kind of…physical contact is asking for trouble.”

  “Right.” Thankfully one of them was smart enough to recognize that. “Do you want me to apologize?” he asked warily.

  She thought about it, then shook her head. “I was as much at fault as you.”

  Reid reached for his drink. He needed it, even more than he had the first one. As he’d told her, she’d taken ten years off his life, frightening him the way she had, and now he’d easily subtracted another ten by kissing her. If he spent much more time with Jenna Campbell, he’d be dead inside a week.

  “I think the best thing I can do is go back to the bedroom. In the morning we’ll both forget about this…indiscretion. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” He was grateful, too, although he didn’t say so.

  She stood. “Um…I probably shouldn’t tell you this—and my experience is pretty limited—but you’re a very good kisser.”

  Reid didn’t know if it would be proper etiquette to thank her, so again he said nothing.

  She rubbed her finger across her upper lip and he realized his beard had probably grazed her tender skin. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No, your mustache tickled me. That’s all.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Good night, Reid.”

  “Good night. The storm probably won’t be so bad in the morning and you can make that phone call to your mother.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  Just before she went into the bedroom, she stopped. “Is your artwork at the pump station?”

  “Some of it.”

  “Would you mind showing me your pictures?”

  He hesitated, then figured he might as well. “Sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll talk to you in the morning.” He waited until she disappeared into the darkness of the bedroom before he lay down on the sofa. This time when he closed his eyes all he could see, feel and taste was Jenna.

  Chapter Eight

  Jenna woke at first light a
nd memory came flooding back. Not only had she revealed her deepest fears to Reid Jamison, she’d welcomed his kisses. Even more damning, she’d enjoyed them. She’d read about people in instances such as this—instances in which captives fell in love with their captors. It was called the Stockholm syndrome. Except that Reid appeared to be as regretful over these unfortunate circumstances as she was.

  She could hear him moving about the cabin and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted in from the other room. Jenna hurriedly dressed and combed her hair.

  “Good morning,” she said, entering the small kitchen.

  “Morning.” He kept his back to her. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Please.” Something wasn’t right. Reid seemed to make a point of not facing her. “Reid?”

  He turned then and she saw that he’d shaved off his beard. “When did you do that?” she asked, although the real question was why. He was the one who’d stressed the importance of a beard for an Alaskan male.

  “This morning,” he barked.

  “There’s no need to snap at me.” He was in a horrible mood, and she’d done nothing more than walk from one room to the next. “Why’d you do it?”

  “Hell if I know. And it wasn’t for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He slapped a mug of coffee down on the table, half of it sloshing over the sides.

  “Did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” she asked in a singsong voice.

  “I didn’t sleep in a bed, as I might remind you.”

  “And why is that?” she asked sweetly. “Could it be because you offered your one and only bed to your kidnap victim?”

  He scowled at her. “The storm’s still raging, but we’ll head out anyway.”

  “Can I drink my coffee first?”

  “Fine,” he said gruffly, stomping out of the room. He reached for his coat and shoved his arms into the sleeves. It took him another five minutes to lace up his boots and add the extra protective gear. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be ready to go when I return.”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted him smartly.

  He paused to glare at her. “Don’t get cute with me, Jenna. I’m not in the mood for it.”

  “Now, just one minute.” Jenna had endured enough of his temper tantrum. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you this morning, but I suggest you get over it. If anyone has the right to be annoyed, it’s me. I’m not holding you hostage.”