Snowed In (12 page)

She swung around and punched his arm hard enough that the general involuntarily winced.

“I’m talking to both of you,” Emily said. “This is my wedding, and I’m not going to put up with this behavior. We’re family. Whether you like it or not, we’re all going to get along.”

Blake watched in amazement. A drink in the face. And a slap fight. Both delivered by Emily. He hadn’t seen this coming.

Chapter Thirteen

Other than gagging the two men and locking them in rooms on opposite ends of the B and B, Sarah didn’t know how she could keep them from arguing. She hoped the combined goodwill from everyone else would keep a lid on this simmering volcano, but it was hard to entrust that job to others. This was her inn, her responsibility.
I can’t control everything.
The trick was to find a way to calm down and maintain her equilibrium.

When the Roses and Ribbons truck arrived, she enforced her threat to Alvardo to make him do the unloading. Emily and her mother told him where to place the various centerpieces of white and red roses combined with calla lilies and bright green foliage. Though the roses were supposed to be a variety that didn’t smell too much, the fragrance was overwhelming. She told them to store the arching display that would be used in the ceremony in the honeymoon suite with the door closed.

After fielding a call from the caterer, who was nervous about the snow, she agreed with him that he and his two-man crew should plan to stay after they arrived. That meant three more people for Friday night and Saturday. Then she checked on the progress of dinner with the two women she’d hired to help out. There were a dozen more tasks that needed to be done. It was time to start delegating.

Sarah tapped Blake on the shoulder. “Grab your gloves and jacket and meet me at the kitchen door. I need some help.”

“You got it, lady.”

In the mudroom, she zipped up her parka and unlocked the door. Outside the gently falling snow brushed her cheeks. The cold refreshed her. She inhaled a deep, moist breath. “How about that Emily,” he said. “I didn’t think she had the guts to stand up to her dad and the general.”

“She might look like a cupcake, but she’s not all sweetness and fluff.” Otherwise, their friendship never would have lasted. “Emily is one of those people who can’t bear to see injustice. When she’s standing up for the underdog, she can take on the world.”

“Like you?”

“In a way.” Sarah hadn’t thought of that similarity. “It’s odd. We’re kind of alike, but I tend to think of me and Emily as being very different.”

“How so?”

“For one thing, she’s the world’s biggest optimist, and I tend to see the glass as half-empty.”

“You’re analytical,” he said.

“And cynical.”

“You look ahead and see the problems before they occur. That’s a positive trait.”

“Which is much nicer than saying that I’m a big grump.”

A covered breezeway spanned the area between the kitchen and a triple-wide garage. An inch of snow had already accumulated on the concrete. She pulled on her gloves, opened the lid on a storage box under the eaves and dug into a bag of eco-friendly deicer, which she scattered across the area.

Blake did the same. “What is this stuff?”

“Deicer made of dried corn and the organic clay product that goes into kitty litter. Not great for the environment but less damaging than rock salt. This back door is where all the supplies for the wedding are going to be delivered, and I don’t want anybody to slip and fall.”

He followed her example, going all the way to the driveway. “What other ways are you and Emily different?”

“She comes from a privileged background, and my family is frugal. Some might say the Bentleys are cheap.”

“Owning one of the classiest bed-and-breakfasts in the Aspen area isn’t a poor man’s occupation.”

“That shows how much you know.” She scattered the deicer near the garage door. “When the economy started to fail, the hospitality industry took a big hit. People were afraid to spend their hard-earned dollars on vacations. All the hotels were suffering. I’ve been lucky.”

“How so?”

“The B and B isn’t a big operation, and I don’t have much overhead. Even so, I’ve had to cut back. Carrie—the woman who I called to help out in the kitchen—used to be full-time. Now I only contact her when I need extra help.”

“Didn’t you have Emily working for you one summer?”

“Yes, but she didn’t take a full salary. She was more of an intern and a great help.” They’d been like sisters, rising together and working together. After college, Emily had needed to put distance between herself and her high-powered parents. And Sarah had needed a friend to make the transition from being part of a family to the sole proprietor of the B and B. “That was a couple of months before she met Jeremy.”

“They’re good together.”

Dusting off his gloves, he moved closer to her. His nearness reminded her of feelings she’d put aside. Her attraction to him was palpable, a magnetic force, and she didn’t want to give in to it. Not yet, anyway. She stepped away from him. “I brought you out here because I have a job for you.”

“Okay.”

“I’m putting you in charge of the fire.”
Baby, won’t you light my fire.

“No problem,” he said. “What other ways are you and Emily different?”

She avoided looking up at him, fearful of letting her guard down. “You’re like a dog with a bone. Don’t you ever give up?”

“Never.” His deep, rich voice struck just the right chord inside her. “You don’t talk much about yourself, and I want to follow this thread to the end.”

“Here’s the big difference,” she said. “Emily is beautiful, stunningly beautiful.”

“And so are you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have low self-esteem, and I know I’m not bad-looking. But Emily is special. She’s the sort of woman who can stop traffic.”

In short, she was a princess.

“And that’s what you want to be.”

“Maybe,” she admitted.

Sarah would never trade her self-sufficient, strong personality for a tiara, but she wouldn’t mind being pampered, praised and adored for a little while. Didn’t every woman want to be cherished above all others? If Emily got to be gutsy, it was only fair for Sarah to have a moment when she was Cinderella at the ball.

In the meantime, there was firewood to be managed. She grasped the knob on the garage door. Before she could turn it, Blake stopped her.

“Do you keep the garage locked?” he asked.

“No. Why?”

“Anyone has access. This is the first time I’ve noticed poor security at the B and B.” He drew his handgun and stepped in front of her. “What’s in there?”

“My truck and an SUV that Emily’s been driving are parked at the far end.” She let him take the lead. It had never occurred to her that someone might be hiding in here. “When you walk in the door, there’s a tool bench in the front and firewood in the back.”

“It looks bigger than a regular garage.”

“There’s an extra space on this side for storage.” The garage didn’t seem dangerous, except for the saws, the chisels, the screwdrivers and the axes she used for splitting logs.
Axes? Why hadn’t she thought of this?
“I’ve been in and out of here a half dozen times over the past couple of days.”

“And you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

“Not really.” She’d been preoccupied. There had been so much happening with the wedding preparations and the kidnap attempt that she might have strolled past a dancing hippo without paying attention. “I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“I am.”

He yanked open the door and charged into the dark interior. She followed and hit the light switch beside the door. The extra-large garage served the same purpose as a barn on a ranch, creating a space to store the equipment needed in a remote location. Though it wasn’t heated, the garage was sealed tightly against the snow and had only a few high windows to let in the light.

She watched as Blake expertly searched the large space, checking under and inside the vehicles and poking into every corner. With his long-legged stride, he covered the area quickly, and he didn’t waste a single motion. Returning to her, he tucked his gun into the holster on his hip.

“I had a call from Kovak,” he said. “Franks isn’t awake yet, but he’s not in a coma. We might get information from him. If he doesn’t talk, Kovak is working with a cop in Denver to get some background on our kidnapper.”

“Do they know anything? Like if he’s married or lives with someone?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Will you keep me posted?” she asked. “I know there’s nothing I can do, but I want to be aware.”

He gave a nod. “Kovak also said that they never located the backpack with the bomb.”

That threat came much closer to home. “Is it dangerous?”

“Any unexploded device is dangerous.” His blue eyes darkened, and his expression was serious. “Franks said the bomb could be detonated using a cell phone.”

She remembered the phone number on the screen. “How does that work?”

“The bomb is hooked up to another cell phone inside the device. When the number is called, it’s like lighting a fuse.”

“But it can’t accidentally just go off, right?”

“It depends.”

He’d been in the rangers for years. He had seen and experienced a war she couldn’t imagine, and he knew firsthand what it meant when a bomb or an IED exploded. Her heart went out to him. Though she could never fully understand what he’d gone through, she respected his courage.

“Firewood,” she said, bringing her focus back to the present. “As you can see, I have plenty of split wood stacked inside the garage. It’s going to be your job to keep the fire in the front room going. That means taking wood from here and bringing it to the box in the mudroom. From there, you take it to the fireplace.”

“Why bother with the middle step of dropping it off in the mudroom?”

“If we have a real blizzard, you won’t want to go outside. Not even to make that little hop from the kitchen door to the garage.” She picked up a chunk of wood. “Hold out your arms.”

Loaded up with as much split wood as possible, she led him back into the mudroom and opened the lid on the large, half-empty bin. “This should be plenty for today and tomorrow.”

After being out in the snow, the warmth of the house wrapped around them like a big, cozy comforter. The aroma of beef stew was a tantalizing reminder that dinner was only an hour and a half away.

“I noticed that you have a snowblower,” he said.

“And I should get busy with it,” she said. “There’s not much daylight left.”

“A suggestion,” he said. “Let’s put the senator in charge of snow removal.”

She didn’t like the idea. Recruiting guests went against her practices as an innkeeper, even though she hadn’t hesitated to give Blake the fireplace responsibility. “I don’t think so.”

“He’s a guy,” Blake said. “All guys—even senators—like to play with cool equipment. He’s from California. When does he get to use a snowblower?”

“It’d be nice if I didn’t have to worry about the snow piling up,” she admitted.

“Here’s the best part,” Blake said with a grin. “The physical activity might make him too tired to argue.”

“You’re very persuasive.”

“So I’ve been told.” He leaned close enough to give her a kiss on the cheek but didn’t. “I’ll get him started.”

“I have one more thing I need your help with.”

She led him up the staircase to the second floor and then onward and upward to the third-floor dormitory where the band was staying. If the blizzard tomorrow made the roads impassable, she’d put the caterer and his staff up here, too. Before reaching the top of the stairs, she called out, “Is everybody decent?”

“Not for years,” came the reply. “But come on up.”

The guitar player sat cross-legged on a chair by the dormer window. Guitar in hand, he lightly strummed. The other two sprawled on their bellies on the beds. They all made welcoming noises.

“I need to get into storage,” she said.

“Can we help?”

“Thanks, but I think this is a one-man job.”

She unfastened the combination lock and opened a door that was almost unnoticeable in the pine-paneled wall. Under the eaves were several boxes, taped and neatly labeled. Some were Christmas ornaments. Others held lights, bedding, books and miscellaneous stuff. A full-length mirror leaned horizontally against the inner wall. Not a lovely piece of furniture, it was only a mirror in a simple wood frame with a brace against the back that made it freestanding. It should suit Rebecca’s needs.

The mirror was heavier than she’d thought and more unwieldy, but she and Blake managed to get it downstairs. She knocked on the door to the wardrobe bedroom.

Emily’s mother answered right away. Her husband stood at the window, staring out at the snow with his hands clasped behind his back.

Sarah had the feeling that she might have interrupted an intense conversation. “I brought the mirror.”

“Wonderful,” Rebecca said with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I know it isn’t really necessary. There’s a mirror on the bathroom door, after all. But I wanted Emily to have a chance to see how lovely she is in her gown.”

“I’m anxious to see it,” Sarah said.

“And your dress, too. I hope it fits. There really isn’t time for alterations.”

Sarah had recently discovered a distant cousin who was an excellent seamstress, but she lived too far away to make the trek to the B and B with the blizzard coming. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Rebecca unzipped a garment bag that was lying on the bed and took out a floor-length gown in emerald-green satin. The design and fabric were more formal than anything Sarah had ever worn in her life. She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I can pull this off.”

“Of course you can. You’ll be stunning.”

Hank Layton turned away from the window and came toward her. “Sarah, I hope you know how much we appreciate all that you’re doing for us. These threats are...unfortunate.”

“The situation is under control,” Blake said. “The sheriff’s department has the kidnapper in custody.”

“Any clue about his motive?”

“He’s still unconscious,” Blake said.

“I meant what I said earlier.” The tone of his voice was warm and somehow conveyed a note of sincerity that was a plus for a politician. “This could be my fault. I’ve gotten a number of threats.”

“Yes, dear,” his wife said. “I’m sure you have just as many enemies as the general.”

“Dangerous individuals,” Hank said, “the haters and the doubters, the survivalists and the anti-environmentalists, and even Nazis.”