Let It Snow... (9 page)

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Authors: Leslie Kelly,Jennifer Labrecque

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BOOK: Let It Snow...
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It wasn’t just that she loved him and wanted to be with him. She
liked
him, and he had become the most important part of her life. More important than the shop or her home, or even her brother, whom she’d looked after for so long. Philip had become everything. And she’d let him walk away.

“So why don’t you go to him?”

“And say what? Sorry I stomped on your offer—want a cup of coffee?”

“How about ‘Sorry I said no, you caught me off guard, I love you and want to marry you’?”

That sounded lovely. And impossible. “I can’t.”

Freddy blew out a disbelieving breath. “Why not?”

“I can’t just leave.”

“I repeat—why not? It’s not like you love this place. You and I both know you started it because you needed to keep my greedy fingers off your money.”

“True.”

Her brother dropped his head, looking sheepish. “The point is, Claire, I’ve been watching you for a few weeks now.”

“What the hell is it with men feeling the need to watch me?”

“I was ashamed to come back,” he admitted, sounding truly contrite. “And I was afraid Louie the Rat King would send his goons over to bother you, so I stuck around the neighborhood. I did see one of ’em a couple weeks ago, and stopped him from coming any closer.”

“Oh, Freddy, what a mess.”

“But it’s my mess. Not yours. Your life could be great. I’ve seen the way you are with Philip. And I’ve definitely seen the way he is with you. That dude is madly in love with you, Claire.”

“Madly? Maybe. But am I
mad
enough to just walk away from my entire life and go off with him to who knows where? He says he’s from Spain, but I’ve never heard him speak a word of Spanish. For all I know he lives in the back of beyond!”

Her brother shrugged. “So what? Does it really matter where you live if you honestly love each other?”

She stared at him, wondering when on earth he’d started to sound like a genuine grown-up. Freddy had always been the one needing advice. He’d sure never offered it. But now he was making a lot of sense.

“You really think I could just walk away?”

“Not only do I think you could, I think you should,” he replied. “And it has nothing to do with my problems or him bailing me out.”

Though she imagined he was considering that a nice bonus. Ah well, leopards couldn’t change their spots overnight.

“What about the shop?”

“That lady you hired to work in the back is pretty amazing. I bet she could manage the place. Hell, I’ll stay here and help her.”

Gaping, Claire could only laugh.

“I’m serious. You can get your accountant to handle the money side if you don’t trust me. Between me, Mrs. West and Jeannie, we’ll do all right.” Freddy came close and took Claire’s hand, staring her in the eye, not once shifting his gaze. “I swear to you, I’ve learned my lesson. I want to help you. I want your dreams to come true, since you’ve sacrificed so many of them for my sake. Please, Claire.... You have the chance for real happiness. Grab it.”

Could she really? Was there still a chance?

Her heart was thudding in her chest, and every instinct urged her to do what her brother said. To grab happiness and live life to the fullest, with no regrets, no recriminations.

Philip was the man she wanted to spend her life with. And she intended to tell him that.

She only hoped she wasn’t too late.

* * *

P
HILIP
DECIDED
TO
HEAD
for home without saying goodbye to Claire. He simply couldn’t see her again, knowing he’d lost her.

Not when there was something he could do about changing that.

Saturday night, when he’d come upstairs dejected and defeated, Shelby had insisted that he would find someone else. As if anyone would ever make Philip’s heart beat fast in his chest again. He was thirty years old, had been looking for the right woman since he was sixteen, and had never even come close until he’d met Claire Hoffman.

It was her or it was no one.

Teeny had urged him to not give up, to go right back downstairs and get her to change her mind. But neither he nor Shelby had seen what had happened. The way Philip had bared his heart to her...the way she’d rejected it.

She might love him, but she wasn’t ready for a life with him. Which meant he needed more time. The only way he could get it was to go home, tell his parents the truth about what had happened, and ask them to release him from his promise. Ask them to give him a little more time to win the woman he wanted.

“They’ll agree. They have to,” he told himself as he looked out the window of the train at the passing countryside.

When he’d come to America several weeks ago, he had arrived through one of the crossings into Europe, and had flown over the great sea. But this world was bigger than his own. He could travel faster—cover more distance—in Elatyria. So even though he would have to take a ship over the much smaller ocean there, he intended to cross between worlds here, in America, by way of the nearest major border. Hopefully, he would be back in his own kingdom by week’s end.

He had left Teeny and Shelby in New York, both because he fully intended to come back, and because he wanted them to protect Claire while the threat of her brother’s creditors hung over her. Considering he’d left Shelby with enough money to pay off the bookie, that threat shouldn’t last for long. However, Philip didn’t trust the man he’d fought with not to seek revenge on him, and take it out on Claire.

The sooner Philip got back to New York—back to her—the better.

He reached the nearest major crossing, which was just outside a town they called Boston, by late in the afternoon. He had hired a car to take him to the precise coordinates, shrugging off the driver’s curious look as he dropped him along a country road. Waiting until the man and his vehicle were well out of sight, Philip made his way toward a long, low field, to the invisible border that existed in a small stand of trees on the far side of it. Just a few more steps and he would be back on his own world, where he belonged, even though he would be leaving a huge part of himself—his heart—behind.

Already rehearsing what he would say to his parents when he saw them, he wondered about Claire, what she was doing, what she would think of his departure. He felt so close to her, it was as if he could hear her voice.

“Philip, wait!”

He froze. That hadn’t been a waking dream or a fantasy. That had been the voice of the woman he loved.

He spun around, not sure he could believe his ears. When he saw Claire leaping out of a yellow taxi, with a smiling Shelby and Teeny right behind her, he nearly dropped to his knees in relief.

She ran to him. Philip shook off his shocked immobility and strode to meet her. Swinging her up in his arms, he pressed kiss after kiss on her face, too happy to see her to even ask how this had come to be. He held her as if he would never let her go. He never
would
let her go from his heart, and definitely didn’t intend to let her out of his arms or sight for a very long time.

“Claire, what are you doing here?”

“I had to wish you a Merry Christmas, didn’t I?”

“And a Merry Christmas to you, my love,” he whispered, kissing her temple, breathing her in, wanting to imprint her scent and her memory on every part of him.

“You asked me to come with you,” she said, looking up at him in reproach. “Then, you big jerk, you left without saying goodbye?”

“But...but—”

“A woman’s entitled to change her mind, isn’t she?”

“Oh, my love, of course she is.” He kissed her again, softly, gently, wondering if there would ever be a moment in his life as perfect as this one.

Yes, it was cold and they were in the middle of nowhere. Yes, he was in a strange land, far from all he knew. But it was still magical. Almost as magical as his home, which would be ever so much more so now that she would share it with him.

They stood wrapped in each other’s embrace for several long moments, their hearts pounding in unison. A soft snow began to fall. It hadn’t snowed much during his time in New York, and never when he was with Claire, and he found he liked standing in it with her. The delicate flakes kissed his cheeks and came to rest on her beautiful hair.

He owed her a better proposal. “I love you, Claire. Will you be my wife? My princess?” he murmured, his face pressed against hers.

“Oh, yes,” she replied, hugging him tighter. Then, as if she suddenly thought about what he’d said, she stiffened and looked up at him. “Princess?”

He cleared his throat, eyeing Teeny and Shelby, who strode up to them, carrying their bags and an extra one that must belong to her.

“You didn’t tell her?”

“Thought we’d leave that one to you,” said his cousin with a smirk.

“Tell me what?”

Philip thought about it, considered what to say.

Then he realized there was a much better way. They were steps away from the border, and seeing something was better than hearing about it any day.

He gazed into her eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

Her faith in him was humbling, though he knew that she
could
trust him with her life. He would never let anything or anyone hurt her, and would gladly die to keep her safe.

“And would you want to be with me no matter where we go or what we do?”

Her expression was tender, so sweet, loving and sincere. “I do, Philip. For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health...bring it on. Bring it all on.”

He loved the certainty in her voice, and the glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

“How about, uh, no electricity?”

Her mouth rounded, but he kissed away any words she might have spoken. By the time they broke apart, she was smiling broadly.

“Whatever,” she whispered. “Let’s do this.”

So, taking her arm in his, he turned to face the small stand of trees and the shimmering veil he could just make out through the drifting snow. They walked toward it, and though he wasn’t escorting her down the aisle after saying their official vows, this moment felt a little like he suspected that one would.

“What
is
this place?” she asked, squinting, obviously seeing something in the air, or even feeling the aura that existed in this thin veil between worlds.

“Close your eyes,” he told her, keeping her hand tightly entwined with his. “It might seem like a dream, but you’ll be safe, and I’ll explain everything momentarily.”

“Philip?” she said, a little uncertain.

“I love you, Claire. I promise you we’ll be together, and I’ll make you happy every day for as long as you live.”

She nodded up at him, any reservations gone, her decision made. And together, arm in arm, they stepped through the veil, across the border and into an entirely different world.

Epilogue

A
ND
SO
THE
handsome prince returned home to his palace, bringing with him a beautiful maiden, whom he'd chosen to be his bride. There was much sadness among the ladies of the kingdoms, who had vied for his hand, but in his own palace, and among his own people and family members, happiness abounded.

The new princess was the delight of the court, the apple of her father-in-law's eye, a close friend and confidante to the queen, and above all, a loving and adoring wife to her husband. Everyone who visited the couple, and their growing family, commented on the obvious devotion between the two, admitting that the royals were indeed wise to marry for love rather than duty.

The princess won over even her most jealous detractors with her beauty, strength and kindness...not to mention her delicious candies, which became renowned throughout the land. Every so often, she and the prince would disappear, going to visit her family back home—some said she had a handsome brother who was a prince of industry in his land. Whenever she was asked about her background and where she came from, all she would say was that she'd come from a cold place faraway, and had never truly known warmth and bliss until her beloved prince had come into her life and swept her off her feet.

And together, Claire and her prince lived happily ever after.

* * * * *

Jennifer LaBrecque

My True Love Gave to Me…

Prologue

G
ERTRUDE
“Trudie” Brown’s heart felt as if it was breaking right in two. It was almost a physical pain. Her best friend Knox Whitaker was disappearing right before her eyes, becoming someone she didn’t know...and someone she wasn’t sure she particularly liked.

She brushed away the bugs that came with July in Alaska and shifted on the rock beside Knox. Jessup, Knox’s dog, half white German shepherd and half bull terrier and 100 percent sweetheart, tucked his paws more firmly beneath his chest and put his head down. He obviously sensed the strain between Trudie and Knox. She knew how the dog felt. Not even the splendor of the impending midnight sunset over Anchorage—the golden horizon rich with red-and-pink-hued clouds—soothed her spirit.

Knox ran his hands over his hair, the gesture weary. “Take whatever you want out of the house,” Knox said. “The agents are coming in and opening the place for an estate sale on Friday. The rest will be hauled to the dump.”

Trudie felt sick. “Estate sale? The dump?” No! He couldn’t mean it. “How can you even consider letting strangers traipse in and out, picking through the minutiae of Mormor’s life, the things she held dear, and then discard the rest?”

She had been seven, Knox eight, when he came to live with his grandmother next door to Trudie and her parents. Nineteen years ago Trudie’s heart had wept for the orphaned boy, his blue eyes somber with grief and wariness from his parents’ deaths in a car crash. It was as if her heart had linked with his to help him heal. They’d grown up together. They’d grown together.

She’d had girlfriends and dated an array of guys, but she couldn’t recall a time since that fateful day he’d arrived here that they hadn’t been best friends. Even when he’d left to do his undergrad work at University of Alaska in Fairbanks and then gone on to vet school at Washington State University while Trudie had remained in Anchorage, they’d stayed close. When he returned home and joined a small practice, he and Trudie had met once a week for dinner to catch up.

And then Mormor had died.

The last three months had been terrible. Mormor had gone quickly, which was exactly how she would’ve wanted it.

Even after he’d left for college, Knox had called his grandmother every week to check on her and when he’d returned to Anchorage, he’d been diligent in keeping tabs on her. In the last year, as her mobility decreased, the weekly calls had become daily ones. So, when Mormor hadn’t answered one morning, Knox had left his practice and gone to her house to check on her. He’d called Trudie on his way. It would turn out to be the last “real” conversation he and Trudie had.

When Knox arrived, Mormor was dead. He’d found her sitting in her recliner, a word search puzzle on her lap, her cat Tonto curled up beside her cold form. Trudie’s mom had gone next door when she’d seen Knox’s truck. She said Mormor looked peaceful, as if she’d simply drifted off to sleep.

As death went, everyone agreed Mormor’s had been good. The woman had valued her independence and never wanted to be a burden. She’d always said that a quick exit beat a slow decline. So, from that perspective she’d been granted her wish. But the loss was...well, it was dreadful.

While Knox agreed her death was exactly what Mormor would’ve wanted, he’d become remote and withdrawn. He was distant with Trudie. Her mom had reassured her, it was simply part of the grief process, but it was confusing for Trudie.

Although she had moved into her own apartment years ago, when she visited her folks, she always dropped by to visit Mormor, even if it was only for a minute. Mormor had been like a surrogate grandmother to her.

Trudie missed her, too, but she wasn’t dealing with it by pushing Knox away. He was the one who had bailed on their weekly dinner for the last month. It didn’t make any sense to her. Over the years she and Knox had talked about everything, but since Mormor’s death he wouldn’t talk to her about anything.

And now this? He was opening his grandmother’s house to strangers and selling it? Granted, she didn’t quite know what she’d expected him to do—he had his own place near his vet clinic, but she’d thought perhaps he’d hold onto the house or maybe move in. It seemed so cold and callous to just sell a house that held so many memories. She didn’t get it. At this point, she didn’t understand, but how could she when he wouldn’t talk to her. This was the longest conversation they’d had in weeks, and quite frankly she’d been surprised and excited when he’d suggested they meet for one of their late-night hikes, which had become a rarity rather than a regular event.

Knox shrugged his broad shoulders but didn’t look at her. The sun, quickly sinking toward the horizon, threw his beloved features into relief—the straight, strong nose, the firm jaw and square chin, the slight curl to his hair where it lay against his neck. “Elsa says it’s the best way to handle it. She says it’s all junk and she’s right.”

Trudie’s hand itched. She didn’t know who she wanted to slap more or harder—Knox or the beautiful Elsa Borjeson. Elsa and Knox had met a couple of months ago when she’d rear-ended him at a traffic light. Over the years, Knox and Trudie had dated people that the other one wasn’t so wild about. Come to think of it, they’d never particularly liked each other’s choices. However, there was something particularly offputting about Elsa.... Mormor hadn’t liked the cool blonde either.

“Since when did your grandmother’s life and her things become junk?” Trudie asked through gritted teeth.

He at least had the grace to look ashamed. Elsa’s influence hadn’t totally erased all traces of her friend...yet. “Well, Mormor’s stuff isn’t exactly junk.” He shifted on the rock and his shoulders stiffened. “But she’s gone and it’s time to move on.”

That didn’t even sound like Knox. He might as well be reading from a script penned by Elsa. Trudie wrapped her arms around her bent legs and rested her head on her knees, studying him as the light bathed him in a golden glow.

He glanced at her, inquiry in his denim-blue eyes at her silence. “What?”

An ineffable sadness filled her. “What’s happened to you?” she said softly. Her words seemed to float on the breeze that riffled her hair against her face. “I don’t know you anymore.”

It was a whisper, more of an aside to herself, yet he heard her.

A remoteness shadowed his eyes, rendering him inaccessible to her in a way he’d never been before. “I grew up, Trudie. Maybe it’s time that you did as well.”

The harshness of his words made her wince. Although his physical features were familiar, his heart was not the same. She loved him, but she couldn’t, at this moment, say she liked him. So, if this was his version of growing up and he wanted her to join him on this path...well, no thanks.

“Not if it means becoming what you’ve become.”

He looked away from her. “If that’s the way you feel.”

Trudie wished she could snap him out of whatever mind set he had slipped into. While she knew everyone in life was responsible for themselves, it was as if Elsa had Knox under a spell, as if she’d smudged all the good things, clouding the way he saw the world. It wasn’t particularly fair to lay the blame all on Elsa, but the more time Knox spent with the woman, the darker his outlook became, the more cynical, and the more distant he grew.

Trudie had never censored herself with Knox and she didn’t plan to start now. “Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel. I don’t want to get to the point where I consider my past junk.”

“That’s just as well,” Knox said. “Our relationship makes Elsa a little uncomfortable so maybe it’s best if we take a break from one another.”

Elsa uncomfortable... Take a break.... Surely Trudie had heard him wrong. “What?” Their respective dates had never gotten in the way of them—Trudie and Knox—before.

“Elsa doesn’t really understand our relationship. I’ve tried explaining that you and I are just friends, buddies, sort of the same as me and Danny, but she doesn’t get it. It makes her uneasy when I’m with you.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t want to spend time with me because your girlfriend doesn’t like me?”

Push had come to shove a couple of times before. David Peters, her senior prom date, hadn’t liked Knox. She’d dumped David. Missy Fairington, one of Knox’s girlfriends, was bitchy about Trudie. Missy had become history pretty quickly. Trudie and Knox’s friendship had always superseded other relationships...until now.

“It’s not so much that she doesn’t like you—”

“Don’t insult me by lying to me.”

“She doesn’t get you. She doesn’t get our relationship. She doesn’t understand that you and I can just be friends and that’s all there is to it.”

If a woman was going to break up their friendship, it could’ve at least been someone who would love him, care for him, bring out the best in him—someone who would make him happy. That, Trudie could swallow. But, Elsa was doing none of that.

She drew a deep breath, and then laid it on the line. “Knox, I don’t think she’s good for you.”

“She said you were jealous of her.”

Trudie had already searched her soul. She wasn’t jealous of Elsa, although the other woman was beautiful and obviously Knox was smitten. Trudie didn’t like her because, plain and simple, Elsa wasn’t a nice person. She was cold, calculating and manipulative...and it was insane that Knox couldn’t see it. Love must have truly blinded him.

She didn’t know what had happened to her friend, but even worse, there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Mormor had always said everyone had to choose and walk their own path. Tears burned at the back of her throat. She swallowed hard.

“I’m not jealous of Elsa,” she said, her voice calm and flat.

He ignored her comment. “I’ll call you in a couple of weeks after the dust settles.”

He wouldn’t call because there was no dust to settle. There was only Elsa.

The sun, in one powerful final illumination before it retired for the evening, cast him in a golden glow, and in that moment, her entire world shifted. She loved him. She’d always loved him, but this was different. She loved him in the way a woman loves a man, a partner. She was in love with him. It was as if she had to lose him to discover the truth of what he was to her.

The realization shook her. Shattered her. Left her uncertain.

Trudie stood, her legs not quite steady beneath her. She placed her hands lightly on his broad shoulders, resisting the urge to curl her fingers into his solidness, his warmth. She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his temple, his scent enveloping her, her cheek brushing against his hair.

He was so dear to her.

Knox caught her fingers in his. “I’ll call,” he said, repeating his earlier...assertion...vow...platitude.... No, he wouldn’t. “You’re okay, right?” No, she wasn’t okay and she wasn’t sure that she ever would be without him. She wavered, almost blurting her discovery, but it would just be awkward. He was all hung up on Elsa so what was the point in baring her soul?

She tugged her hand free. “I’m fine.”

Trudie bent and scratched Jessup behind the ears. His gaze was nothing short of woeful as he looked up at her. The dog knew as surely as Trudie did that Knox wouldn’t call.

She turned and walked away, the sun setting behind her, as she headed into the shadows. Technically, she was fine. No one actually died of a broken heart...even if they felt as if they might.

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