Read Online Risking It All for Love (A Christmas in Snow Valley Romance) by Kimberley Montpetit - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kimberley Montpetit
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beaches. Cruised the French Quarter as a teenager looking for trouble
. . . eerily similar to my Madame LeBlanc séance sessions. An Army brat. Half a
doctor.
And funny. And gentle—but with an edge. Which I liked.
Someone who could take what I dished out constantly—and give it right
back.
With blue eyes I wanted to stare into for hours.
Michael never gave it back. Just took my sarcasm over and over
again. Even when I pushed him mercilessly, he was mild mannered and sweet.
Never saying a bad thing about anybody.
I shuddered, closing my eyes, the memories of that dark and icy
night flashing through me like actual, physical hot pain. The flash of steel
and lights and fire.
My eyes flew open and I sucked in a breath of cold air in an
attempt to make the horrible images go away. Then I found myself staring at the
retreating figure of James Douglas after the Polar Express ride had ended.
“Oh, go ahead and have your train ride chick,” I muttered,
stomping off to get another round of cocoa with Catherine. “See what I care!”
“What did you just say?” Catherine asked, kissing her husband who
had arrived that morning to spend Christmas week with us. Alan gathered
Catherine up and they stood there smooching for a few minutes while Amber and
Joanie begged their daddy to pick them up.
“Daddy, daddy!” they shouted.
I clapped my mouth shut. “Nothing,” I said to no one.
Then I turned away, not wanting to watch them kissing.
Not wanting to think about James Douglas’s lips on mine.
“Maybe I’ll cancel Saturday,” I said again. “Why do I want to
slave in the kitchen making cinnamon rolls anyway?”
“Why are you talking to yourself?” my mother asked.
I whipped around, not realizing she had just walked up.
“Nothing. I mean—I wasn’t.” When in doubt, deny, deny, deny.
That was my motto.
Mom’s eyes penetrated mine. “Everything okay, Jessica?”
“Everything is perfectly fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. I’m going home.
It’s not my idea of a good time to watch Catherine and Alan making out.”
My mother rolled her eyes. “Oh, Jess. Give me a lift to the
hospital, will you? I just learned that Olivia’s daughter gave birth last night—almost
three months early. He didn’t survive. ”
“I’m so sorry, Mom.” Olivia was another one of my mother’s
lifelong friends, and this would have been her first grandchild. They’d known
each other since high school. Just like most of the girls I’d known. They were
still living here, or close by. How could anyone stay in this small, stuffy town
for their entire lives?
My mother took out a tissue, sniffing while her eyes welled up
with tears. “I hate to intrude on their grief, but I have to do something. At
least go by and tell them we’re praying for them.”
Silently, we got into my car. Tonight I’d had the presence of mind
to take my own wheels. Plus, we hadn’t all fit in Catherine’s van with Alan now
in town.
“Oh, what a Christmas,” my mother sighed as she settled back
against the seat.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, your
dad’s office manager, Mrs. Gibbons, is sick with a bad case of strep throat.
I’ll be over there next week helping him out. Thank goodness it’s a short week
due to the holidays. Can’t believe Christmas Eve is less than a week away. Would
you mind finishing up the gift wrapping and doing some baking?”
“Sure. I’ll make cinnamon rolls Saturday morning. I promised
someone a dozen anyway. Well, maybe a half dozen,” I added with a smidgen of
glee. “I’ll freeze some for Christmas morning breakfast.”
“Good idea.”
There were several long moments of silence. For once, my mother
was quiet, not chattering away.
“What else is going on?” I asked her as I turned into the driveway
of Snow Valley Community Hospital and pulled up to the drop-off curb where the
wide glass doors showed the interior of the waiting room, the bank of elevators
just beyond the couches.
“One of the neighbors is
. . . eerily similar to my Madame LeBlanc séance sessions. An Army brat. Half a
doctor.
And funny. And gentle—but with an edge. Which I liked.
Someone who could take what I dished out constantly—and give it right
back.
With blue eyes I wanted to stare into for hours.
Michael never gave it back. Just took my sarcasm over and over
again. Even when I pushed him mercilessly, he was mild mannered and sweet.
Never saying a bad thing about anybody.
I shuddered, closing my eyes, the memories of that dark and icy
night flashing through me like actual, physical hot pain. The flash of steel
and lights and fire.
My eyes flew open and I sucked in a breath of cold air in an
attempt to make the horrible images go away. Then I found myself staring at the
retreating figure of James Douglas after the Polar Express ride had ended.
“Oh, go ahead and have your train ride chick,” I muttered,
stomping off to get another round of cocoa with Catherine. “See what I care!”
“What did you just say?” Catherine asked, kissing her husband who
had arrived that morning to spend Christmas week with us. Alan gathered
Catherine up and they stood there smooching for a few minutes while Amber and
Joanie begged their daddy to pick them up.
“Daddy, daddy!” they shouted.
I clapped my mouth shut. “Nothing,” I said to no one.
Then I turned away, not wanting to watch them kissing.
Not wanting to think about James Douglas’s lips on mine.
“Maybe I’ll cancel Saturday,” I said again. “Why do I want to
slave in the kitchen making cinnamon rolls anyway?”
“Why are you talking to yourself?” my mother asked.
I whipped around, not realizing she had just walked up.
“Nothing. I mean—I wasn’t.” When in doubt, deny, deny, deny.
That was my motto.
Mom’s eyes penetrated mine. “Everything okay, Jessica?”
“Everything is perfectly fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. I’m going home.
It’s not my idea of a good time to watch Catherine and Alan making out.”
My mother rolled her eyes. “Oh, Jess. Give me a lift to the
hospital, will you? I just learned that Olivia’s daughter gave birth last night—almost
three months early. He didn’t survive. ”
“I’m so sorry, Mom.” Olivia was another one of my mother’s
lifelong friends, and this would have been her first grandchild. They’d known
each other since high school. Just like most of the girls I’d known. They were
still living here, or close by. How could anyone stay in this small, stuffy town
for their entire lives?
My mother took out a tissue, sniffing while her eyes welled up
with tears. “I hate to intrude on their grief, but I have to do something. At
least go by and tell them we’re praying for them.”
Silently, we got into my car. Tonight I’d had the presence of mind
to take my own wheels. Plus, we hadn’t all fit in Catherine’s van with Alan now
in town.
“Oh, what a Christmas,” my mother sighed as she settled back
against the seat.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, your
dad’s office manager, Mrs. Gibbons, is sick with a bad case of strep throat.
I’ll be over there next week helping him out. Thank goodness it’s a short week
due to the holidays. Can’t believe Christmas Eve is less than a week away. Would
you mind finishing up the gift wrapping and doing some baking?”
“Sure. I’ll make cinnamon rolls Saturday morning. I promised
someone a dozen anyway. Well, maybe a half dozen,” I added with a smidgen of
glee. “I’ll freeze some for Christmas morning breakfast.”
“Good idea.”
There were several long moments of silence. For once, my mother
was quiet, not chattering away.
“What else is going on?” I asked her as I turned into the driveway
of Snow Valley Community Hospital and pulled up to the drop-off curb where the
wide glass doors showed the interior of the waiting room, the bank of elevators
just beyond the couches.
“One of the neighbors is
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