On a Snowy Christmas Night. Debbi Rawlins

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On a Snowy Christmas Night - Debbi Rawlins Made in Montana

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way out. She did enjoy the trivia, but the rest of it? It was difficult to be with a group like that, especially when they thought she had no sense of humor, and they called her Spock. She was sure they thought it was funny, but just because she was different didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings.

      “Hey.” Sympathy warmed Nancy’s eyes. “You love showing up all those nerds from accounting.”

      One victory was enough for the day, although she appreciated the invitation. “Another time, okay?”

      “If you change your mind…”

      She wouldn’t. She rarely did.

       2

      HER HANDS CRAMPED from holding the steering wheel so tightly, Shea saw the sign indicating the Sundance Ranch and drove her rented SUV down the gravel driveway. The sky was overcast, the nearby mountaintops covered with snow, but fortunately there was none on the ground.

      Thank God.

      She’d forgotten about the whole snow issue. Her adult life had been spent in California and only twice had she driven in anything worse than a good downpour. When the rental agent had assured her that the Toyota was equipped with snow tires and four-wheel drive, but asked if she knew how to put chains on her tires, she’d about had a stroke. Only then did she consider that she should’ve researched Montana weather before committing to the shelter.

      That was the kind of obvious stuff that went clear over her head. She was like her father in that regard. A soaring IQ and not enough common sense. No, her father won that round—at least Shea hadn’t married someone she’d known for only two minutes.

      A bunch of buildings came into view but it was the house that Shea focused on. She remembered the description from the website and knew the original log cabin had been two stories, was over a hundred and fifty years old and various renovations and additions over the generations had expanded the residence.

      Still, knowing what she did hadn’t prepared her. The place was huge, three stories with two separate wings, the front of the house facing the Rockies. As she got closer she saw the windows, large expanses of glass that would allow perfects views.

      Spirals of smoke rose from the dark green roof and disappeared into the gray sky. There were at least three fireplaces going. She loved fireplaces for the crackling sound burning wood made and for toasting marshmallows. But this wasn’t really a vacation, she reminded herself, and she had no intention of imposing on the family. When she wasn’t at the shelter she’d be sticking to her room. The McAllisters had been good enough to take her in when they should be celebrating the holidays alone, as a family. That’s what this time of year was for.

      Or so she’d been told a time or two. She had no practical experience in the matter. Even when her parents had been married, the atmosphere at home hadn’t been particularly cozy. Her father was a workaholic and her mother a shopaholic. Shea had gotten a lot of studying done. Later, when she’d been sent to boarding school, she hadn’t minded at all. Going home for the holidays? That hadn’t always worked out so well.

      There seemed to be two areas for parking, one closer to the house, the other a grassy brown spot next to a large building that was probably the stables. She slowed the SUV, then saw a young woman step outside onto the porch that wrapped around both corners of the house.

      Bundled in a green down jacket, the auburn-haired woman, who Shea would bet was Rachel, smiled and waved. After gesturing for Shea to park on the grass, she rubbed her hands together and blew on them before stuffing them into the pockets of her worn jeans.

      Behind her the front door opened again. Another woman—older, shorter—appeared, followed by a tall man with longish dark hair. Shea couldn’t see him clearly, for one thing she was too busy parking and trying not to demolish the building.

      Plus, her pulse had sped up and her hands had grown clammy.

      What was this, the welcoming committee? It was hard enough meeting strangers and now she felt as if she were suddenly on a stage. Maybe it was a dude ranch tradition… the whole family greeting the new guest. She shuddered. Weird. This was precisely why staying at a B and B had never appealed to her. People expected conversation and small talk. Definitely not her strong suit.

      Bracing herself, she put the SUV in Park and turned off the ignition. She grabbed her purse and opened the door. The sound of an engine confused her for a second. She looked at the keys in her hand.

      The noise was coming from behind, she realized, and twisted around to see that a huge black pickup had followed her down the driveway. With the windows rolled up and the heater going, she hadn’t heard it. The driver parked closer to the house and it was quickly apparent that Shea wasn’t the reason everyone had rushed to the porch, and she had to laugh at her own paranoia. At least she could see the humor in it now. Climbing out of the car, she smiled as the younger woman approached her and the other two converged on the truck.

      “Shea Monroe, right?” she said, grinning, and Shea nodded. “I’m Rachel. We spoke when you made your reservation.” The woman extended her hand.

      “Yes, I remember.” Shea started to pull off her glove but Rachel stopped her.

      “Don’t. It’s freezing.” Rachel laughed and squeezed Shea’s gloved hand. “At least I had enough sense to grab my jacket.”

      “Thanks again for giving me a room. I swear I’ll be no trouble.”

      “Hey, we’re big supporters of Safe Haven. It’s so nice of you to give up your holidays to volunteer. My brother works with them quite a bit and occasionally we foster horses.”

      Shea’s gaze automatically went to the man and the older woman who stood beside the truck. He was very nice-looking, about her age, she guessed.

      “That’s Trace over there with our mom,” Rachel said. “He’s one of the hooligans but not the one I was talking about.” The new arrivals, a man and a woman, stepped out of the truck and Rachel waved frantically at them. “That’s my other brother Cole and his girlfriend, Jamie. He just picked her up at the airport. She’s come to spend Christmas with us.”

      “Oh, you have two brothers. How nice,” Shea said, and when Rachel gave her a quizzical look she just smiled. No, she wasn’t a sparkling conversationalist, so better everyone know now.

      “I have three.” Rachel studied her a moment. “You probably noticed them on the website.…”

      “Oh, right.” She wasn’t in the habit of lying, but having noticed her brothers seemed to mean something to Rachel so Shea didn’t see the harm in the small fib.

      Rachel titled her head slightly to the side, amusement dancing in her bright green eyes. “Or maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I’ll help with your bags and then you can meet everyone.”

      “No, please, go be with your family. I’ll be along in a minute.”

      “No worries. I’ll see them later.” Rachel swung around to the back of the SUV. “How many bags? I can get Trace to—”

      “That’s not necessary,” Shea said, cutting her off then feeling ashamed for being rude. She cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I don’t have much and I need to do some rearranging before I come in.” She paused. “If that’s okay?”

      “Sure.

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