Let It Snow... (12 page)

Knox whistled beneath his breath, impressed. She hadn’t set a record or anything, but as fishing went it was big. “Homer?”

She and Knox had made the trip numerous times since they were teenagers. Homer, down on the Kenai Peninsula, offered the best halibut fishing in Alaska. “Of course. You caught anything good lately?”

“I haven’t been in a couple of years.”

“What?” Okay, she knew it was Elsa but she was going to play it. What the heck? Knox loved to fish. “You haven’t been fishing?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Busy? If she needed any confirmation—which she didn’t—that Elsa was so totally wrong for him, there it was. Of course, she could know it all day, but until he figured it out... “That’s a shame. Life’s too busy when you can’t take at least one day off or an afternoon.”

“Yeah. I know. But I’m going this spring.”

“Well, that’s good. You’ve got to make time for the things you love.” She found it sad, but in a way oddly comforting, that Knox hadn’t been fishing. She’d thought he must not care about her if she hadn’t heard from him, but if he hadn’t even been fishing, and she knew how he felt about fishing...

“I know,” he said, acknowledging her assertion that it was necessary to make time for cherished things. “So, who’d you go fishing with?”

He’d asked her countless times in the past what she’d done and who she’d done it with, but this time his question held a studied casualness. He was quizzing her.

“Dad and I went a couple of times and then I went with a friend.”

“Anyone I know?” There was nothing casual about the question.

“I don’t think so. Jeremy Lyons.”

“No. I don’t know him.” His tone was clipped. “Where’d you meet him?”

“At the fishing supply store. We were both checking out the lures.” She’d immediately liked the stocky, compact guy with the ginger hair.

“Ah. I see. So, have you seen him outside of fishing?”

Technically, it was none of Knox’s business, but she had nothing to hide. “We’ve been out to dinner a couple of times, caught a few movies.” They genuinely had a good time together...except he wasn’t Knox, which was irrationally confounding.

“Is he coming to Chrismoose?”

Once again, she was really close to telling him it was none of his business. There was a time when they would give one another the thumbs-up or thumbs-down on who the other one was dating. That, however, had all changed with Elsa. “Not that I’m aware of.” Jeremy had asked to come. She had told him she’d be busy and accommodations were sparse. She hadn’t offered him to stay at the cabin with her.

“You like him?”

“He’s a nice enough guy or I wouldn’t hang out with him, would I?” Actually, she had stopped seeing so much of Jeremy because he was obviously feeling for her what, at this point, she couldn’t feel for him.

“Guess not.”

The crunch of tires over the packed snow was the only sound in the truck. Coming with Knox had been a mistake. At the least she should’ve driven her vehicle rather than leaving it in the parking lot in town. Instead of the comfortable silences they’d once enjoyed, this was awkward.

She was altogether too aware of him and her longing for him intensified. Longing was too weak a word. Perhaps it was all the nights of fantasizing about him, dreaming of his touch, his hands on her, her hands on him, heated kisses in the dark, the feel of him thrusting between her thighs. Moisture had gathered there when she was simply sharing the cab with him and she felt as if she might explode from the throbbing ache.

Trying to distract herself, Trudie stared out the window, absently noting the enormous evergreens, their branches hanging heavy with snow. They simply looked sad to her.

Knox tapped his finger against the steering wheel and then reached over and turned on the CD player. The sound of Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash filled the air. At least Knox was staying true to the music he liked. Elsa must approve. Trudie knew it was a catty thought. It’d be one thing if she thought Knox was happy, but he wasn’t. Trudie had seen it in his eyes.

Once again she thought she’d made a mistake coming with him when she was fairly humming with want, but she was committed. They’d have their burgers and beer and he could take her back to get her SUV and that would be that.

She wasn’t quite sure why the thought didn’t cheer her up.

3

K
NOX
PULLED
UP
to the front of the cabin and killed the engine. They let the silence and dark adjust around them.

“Hang tight,” he said, opening his door and stepping out into the freshly shoveled area, the snow beneath his boots hard and compact. He rounded the truck and opened the passenger door for Trudie.

She slid out of the cab. Jessup reluctantly followed. It was a helluva note that a dog born and raised in Alaska didn’t like the snow. All the malamutes and huskies wanted to romp in the snow—Jessup just wanted to get the hell out of the stuff.

“I see Petey’s been here,” Trudie said.

Knox handed Trudie the take-out boxes. “I knew it’d be dark by the time I got Elsa settled and then got out here.” He grabbed the soft-sided cooler out of the back seat. “And you know how much I like shoveling snow.” For twenty bucks Petey, the part-time prospector who also ran the closest thing to a taxi service in Good Riddance, had come out and cleared a path to the front door. It had been worth every cent.

Trudie laughed. “Yeah, it’s not high on my top-ten list of ways to spend my time.”

Knox unlocked the door and reached inside, flipping on the light switch. Jessup pushed past them—he was a good dog even if he was a wimp. Knox motioned for Trudie to precede him. Her arm brushed against him and heat flashed through him. He entered behind her, closing the door, leaving the dark and snow on the other side.

He simply stood still for a moment as memories and Mormor’s absence washed over him. He’d thought he was ready for this, but he wasn’t so sure now. He was glad Trudie was here.

Ironically, while everything in his life and his world had changed, nothing had changed inside the cabin.

It remained one big room with a small half-bath off to the side. A pullout sofa and armchair upholstered in a worn plaid dominated one half of the room. The kitchen, with a scarred oak table and mismatched chairs, sat on the other. A loft ran across the back of the cabin, a ladder granting access. Up top was a double bed where Knox had always bunked down. Below, tucked beneath the loft area, was another double bed that had been Mormor’s sleep spot. A pot-bellied wood-burning stove sat between the sofa and the bathroom. A Big Mouth Billy Bass singing fish was mounted on the wall over the sofa. The Knudson brothers had always had a sense of humor.

Memories of laughter and Chrismooses past crowded him. He sprang into action, which struck him as a far better plan than drowning in nostalgia.

“I’ll get the stove started.” It was so cold inside the cabin, their breath formed smoke rings. “It’ll warm up in no time.”

Petey had also laid a fire in the stove. Knox just needed to light it. Within minutes warmth began to dissipate the room’s chill.

He sat on the sagging plaid sofa and Trudie perched in the matching chair. So much for her sharing the sofa with him but it was just as well because Trudie had become temptation incarnate. He laughed as he eyed the take-out containers on the scarred coffee table. “Now that the burgers and fries are cold...”

Trudie laughed in return. “Hey, they go with the beer.”

“Remember when—”

“Remember when—”

They spoke simultaneously.

“You ran out of gas?” Trudie said. They’d planned to go fishing and picked up some burgers, figuring they could make the trip there and back without gassing up. They’d been wrong.

Knox nodded. “Yep. The burgers were cold in the cab...”

“And the beer froze back in the truck bed.”

“I know,” Knox said. “That’s when I started using a cooler and putting it behind the seat.”

For a few seconds their awkwardness disappeared in the shared memory. Knox bit into the burger. As always it was cooked to perfection. One of Lucky’s signature touches was topping each burger with grilled onions—grilled but still crunchy. “Even cold Lucky’s burgers are good.”

“I know,” Trudie said, speaking around a mouthful.

The firewood popped and snapped merrily in the stove and a contentment he’d not known for a long time stole through him. An awareness he’d never had before was present—an awareness of Trudie as not just a buddy but a woman. The lamp on the end table between the chair and couch etched her features against the shadows beyond.

Her straight nose had the slightest tilt at the end and her chin came to a cute point. Her hair curved slightly toward her cheeks and he noticed how her cheekbones defined her face. She was beautiful in a way he’d never noticed before—not the in-your-face coiffed beauty of Elsa, but warmer, less manufactured. Elsa was like a flawlessly groomed Persian cat while Trudie was a short-haired Siamese.

As with any other animal, the Persian and Siamese were both great breeds, it was just a matter of what suited your taste.

“So, I’m actually participating in Chrismoose this year,” Trudie said, as if grasping for something to say. She looked slightly uncomfortable. He supposed he had been staring.

“How’s that?”

“Well, it’s gotten bigger and Merrilee asked me if I’d work in some floral arrangements. One of the things we discussed was keeping it true to the area. Tomorrow I’m on the hunt for materials.”

“Need any help?”

Trudie paused and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Finally, she spoke. “Look, I want to keep things smooth and calm in my life. I don’t want you coming with me if it’s going to stir up tension with Elsa. That’s not why I’m here and that’s not what I want.” She looked past him to the stove. “It took me some time to work through missing you, not having you in my life. I don’t want to go through that adjustment again.”

“I’m sorry—”

“You’ve already apologized and I’ve accepted. I’m not looking for another apology. I’m just saying I don’t want to argue over Elsa again, I don’t want Elsa giving you ultimatums and one day you’re in my life and the next day you’re not.”

“It sounds as if you’re giving ultimatums now.”

Trudie shrugged. “Maybe, although I don’t think so. I’m just being straight-up with you.”

It was Knox’s turn to pause. He wanted to tell Trudie the deal—that he was only here with Elsa for appearance’s sake, that he and Elsa were on the exit plan—but that didn’t quite seem right. He also wanted to tell her that Elsa wouldn’t make it an issue, but she would. He was beginning to see things a little more clearly than he had in a long time.

However he could handle Elsa. As for Trudie’s other concern— “So, I’m not doing another disappearing act again. What time do you want to get started tomorrow?”

* * *

T
RUDIE
DIDN
’
T
KNOW
how she felt. If someone were to peer through the window, things would look the same as they had for years—she and Knox chatting and sharing a meal. Yet, everything was different. Who was he? Who was she? What did she want?

“Did you bring the tree?” she asked.

It was an artificial tree. As children, she and Knox had made salt dough ornaments for it. They’d sat at Mormor’s kitchen table and cut shapes with cookie cutters and afterwards painted them with craft paint. Every year, when they came to Chrismoose, they set up the tree on the first night of their arrival so they could enjoy it the entire time they were in Good Riddance.

Knox offered a quick nod. “It’s in the truck.”

She inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. If he had let the tree and those ornaments go in the estate sale or donated them to a charity, she would’ve lost it with him. “I could help you set it up...or would you rather do it when I’m not here?”

“Let’s do it together,” he said.

She knew what he meant but she couldn’t seem to stop her mind from spinning the image to the two of them doing it together. The taste of his kisses, the stroke of his tongue, the heat of his hands against her skin, teasing, caressing, exploring... Heat rose in her face and she hoped Knox was oblivious to her reaction. Rather than look at him, she focused her attention on Jessup stretched out by the stove. “Do you need some help getting it in?” Whoa...wait...that sounded so wrong... “I mean from the truck to the cabin, or do you want me to babysit Jessup?”

“You keep warm with Muttzilla. I’ll get it.”

Knox pushed to his feet and shrugged back into his jacket. Frigid air blasted the cabin when he opened the door. Within minutes he was back, wrestling the oblong box and a smaller rectangular one through the door then closing it with his booted foot.

Trudie laughed and Knox grimaced. “Glad I can amuse you.”

“Me too,” she shot back, laughing harder, and then he was laughing, too, and she wasn’t even sure what was so funny but it was and that was the way it used to be—one of them would get tickled and then the other one would start laughing and neither of them could particularly remember why.

Now their laughter trailed off and awareness blossomed between them. Trudie’s breath caught in her throat and her heartbeat quickened as she lost herself in the depths of his eyes, in the shared moment, in simply being with him again.

Jessup nudged her knee with his nose and she looked away from Knox. “So...Jessup’s ready to put up the tree.” Her voice came out husky.

“Well, we want Jessup to be happy so let’s get to it.” Knox laughed, pulled out his pocketknife and cut through the tape that held the tree box together.

It wasn’t until she hit her early twenties that the irony of Mormor’s Christmas tree hit Trudie. They lived in a land of evergreens, yet Mormor’s tree of choice was artificial white tinsel.

“Want to make some hot chocolate while I get the lights on?” Knox said. It was traditionally what they did. Mormor and Trudie would make hot cocoa while Knox set the tree up and strung the lights.

“Sure. I can do that.”

Trudie rummaged around in the kitchen, which was hauntingly familiar even though she hadn’t set foot inside it for nearly two years. While the water boiled she pulled out the envelopes of cocoa mix and dumped them in mugs. The steaming cups were ready just as he finished assembling the tree and stringing the lights, which was pretty much the way they’d always done it.

Trudie passed Knox his drink. His fingers brushed against hers in the exchange and a shiver coursed through her, derailing her. She’d never shivered like that when Jeremy Lyons’s fingers merely glanced against hers. Heck, they’d shared a kiss or two that hadn’t left her with even a quiver...unfortunately.

Lucky her. It had to be Knox, here with his Ms. Snow Queen girlfriend. Knox who had walked away from their friendship and subsequently broken her heart. Wasn’t that just grand and then some?

“Delicious,” he said after a cautious sip. It was hot. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. It was impossible for her to stay angry with him. He was simply too dear to her and she’d missed him too much and she didn’t know when they’d have time like this together again. She refused to squander it.

Trudie tweaked a couple of the white tinsel branches, positioning them more advantageously. “Okay. Ready for the decorations?”

Jessup sat with his head resting on his paws, watching, as they hung the ornaments they’d fashioned as children.

While the whole process could have had a melancholy feel about it, it was simply nice. Rather than being sad because Mormor wasn’t here, Trudie found the memories comforting.

Then they did what they’d always done. They turned out all of the lights except for the ones on the tree and settled next to each other on the couch.

There was something mesmerizing, relaxing, about the twinkling lights, the taste of hot cocoa, the scent and crackle of wood burning, and most of all the solidness and warmth of Knox next to her. Her eyes and body grew heavier. She lowered her guard enough to settle against his side. The steadiness of his heartbeat was beneath her shoulder, his breath stirred against the edge of her hair. She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. He smelled faintly of antiseptic and leather and wood smoke.

She should get up and leave. She should have him take her back to town to pick up her vehicle or at least to her own cabin down the way. She would. She’d insist...in a few minutes. She just wanted a little more time with him, like this. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend...for just a bit longer...that he was hers.

“Trudie?”

“Um?”

“This is nice.”

He wrapped his arm around her and something inside her melted. It was as if her heart had been frozen since that night they’d parted ways at sunset. She snuggled deeper into his embrace. His muscles bunched against her side. His scent, familiar and particular to him, crept around her.

The fire crackled in the stove and the tattoo of his heart beat against her ear. In the far distance the hum of snowmobiles paired with the high-pitched barking of a team of sled dogs.

A delicious, languid heat stole through her. She felt like a tightly closed bud unfurling in warmth and light.

His arm tightened around her and she glanced at him in inquiry. Everything shifted between them though neither actually moved. His breath, warm and fragrant with chocolate, teased against her hair and her temple.

He leaned down slightly and she angled her face, her lips parting slightly, hungry, eager for his kiss. Confusion, desire warred within his blue eyes. She saw it, felt it—he wanted her. His lips were a fraction of an inch from hers when the thought of Elsa inserted itself between them.

No! She couldn’t do this. She shifted her mouth out of range of his. “It’s time for me to leave.”