Snowbound Bride. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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her, Nora was inundated by the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne.

      “I—don’t know,” Nora hedged slowly, not wanting to hurt or offend any of Gus’s family.

      Harold smiled, looked at the sheriff, and then back at Nora. “Have you met Sam yet?”

      Nora blinked. “Who?”

      Harold winked at Nora slyly, even as he gestured at the sheriff warmly. “Our other grandson!”

      Nora took a calming breath as she and the sheriff stared at each other in contemplative silence. Oh, no—no! “You’re—?”

      “Gus Whittaker’s younger brother, Sam,” he confirmed with a tantalizing grin as he swaggered closer and his gaze moved across her upturned face. “And you’re…?”

      Suffused with heat everywhere his eyes had roved, Nora swallowed and stepped back. “Nora,” she said simply, deciding to leave it at that. Dear heaven, this was a complication she did not need. Especially now!

      “Nora,” Sam repeated, as if liking the sound of her name. He studied her, then asked, in a soft, low voice laced with laughter, “Do you have a last name?”

      “Yes,” Nora replied, as she looked into his golden-brown eyes with all the directness she could muster. “It’s…”

      “She’s one of Gus’s very good, shall we say, friends, from New York City,” Harold supplied helpfully.

      “Wait,” Nora corrected hastily, holding up a palm in traffic-cop fashion. “I never said Gus and I were actually, you know, buddies—” She and Gus were more like acquaintances. Remote acquaintances.

      “We know you didn’t, dear,” Clara patted her arm forgivingly.

      “We know Gus would want to tell us himself,” Harold beamed.

      “Tell you what?” Nora wheezed, perplexed.

      “About his plans, of course,” Clara said.

      Nora regarded the Whittakers cautiously. She felt as if she’d landed in a TV sitcom. One of the wacky, humor-filled kinds that didn’t necessarily have to make a lot of sense. “What are you talking about?” she demanded warily, already dreading the reply.

      “Sweetheart, it’s all right, we know,” Harold counseled her warmly.

      Sensing that whatever they were talking about, they were deadly serious, Nora fought to contain her mounting exasperation. “Know what?” she cried, upset.

      Clara beamed, her own happiness evident. “You’re Gus’s fiancée!”

      Chapter Two

      NORA TOOK A deep breath and tried, as nicely as possible, to explain. “I know there’s been a lot of confusion today, what with the storm and all, but Gus and I are not getting married, today or any other day.”

      All around her, faces fell in obvious disappointment.

      “Then why are you in that dress?” Kimberlee Whittaker asked, perplexed, as she propped her hands on her waist. “And why did you come to Clover Creek at precisely 3:30 this afternoon?”

      Good question, Nora thought. She could just as easily have gone the other way back at the crossroads. What had brought her here to Clover Creek? she wondered. Destiny?

      Sam’s eyes held hers. “I’d like to hear the answer to that myself,” he drawled.

      Nora knew she was not going to get anyone to help her unjam the zipper and get out of the dress until she explained. “I’m afraid there’s been some misunderstanding,” Nora said, looking straight at Sam. Who seemed, oddly enough, to be the only one not harboring a hope that she would change course and marry Gus. She paused to draw a bracing breath. “I don’t know where everyone got the idea I’m in love with your brother,” she began, uncomfortably embarrassed, “but I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth! Gus and I are…” Nora groped for a way to explain. “Well, friends, sort of, and that’s all!”

      At that, everyone regarded her so skeptically that it was all Nora could do not to groan out loud. “No one believes me, do they?” she asked Sam as a curious group of customers gathered round.

      “Wouldn’t appear so, no.” Sam paused, his glance sliding over her approvingly before returning to focus on the self-conscious flush in her cheeks. “But there’s a simple way to clear this up. Just explain who you are, where you’re from and who you were really planning to marry today.”

      Nora was tired of men telling her what to do! She crossed her arms in front of her and stubbornly dug in her heels. “I don’t see why I have to explain anything,” she retorted mutinously. Hadn’t she already revealed enough of her private life?

      Sam shrugged. “Then don’t.”

      “Fine.” Nora shrugged right back at him. Deciding she’d looked into the depths of his eyes long enough, she turned her glance away. “I won’t.”

      “But if you want to calm all the questions about you and Gus and what might or might not be going on,” Sam continued, “you will.”

      And have someone then take it upon himself to decide to play hero and call her father? As much as the dutiful-daughter part of her wanted to allay her father’s worries, the part of her that had had enough knew she could not deal with her dad, not yet. Forgetting for a moment all the others gathered around them, Nora regarded Sam sternly. “Look, I already told you my wedding was called off,” she said, making no effort to hide her exasperation with him.

      “When did this happen?” Clara asked, as even more customers gathered round to hear.

      “At the tourist station on the freeway, an hour ago,” Nora replied in an aside.

      “You two met?” Harold gasped.

      “Briefly,” Sam acknowledged reluctantly, his glance still heating her like a fleece blanket.

      “And what little I said to you then is really all I intend to say on the matter,” Nora continued firmly. Like it or not, Sam and the Whittakers and everyone else in Clover Creek were all just going to have to accept that.

      Fortunately for her, just then the phone began to ring.

      Her stunned gaze still on Nora, Clara picked up the receiver. “Whittakers Department Store,” Clara said, then broke into a broad grin. “Gus, darling! We’ve all been waiting to hear from you! Hang on a minute, dear, while I put you on the speakerphone,” Clara said. She punched a few buttons and paused to confirm that he was still there before continuing, “Now, where are you, sweetheart?”

      “Stuck in the city!” Gus Whittaker shouted from the other end. In the background, a horn blared and brakes squealed. The moment the background noise subsided, Gus lowered his voice and asked, somewhat anxiously, “Listen, Gran, did the pretty lady arrive okay?”

      Everyone turned to Nora and grinned, as if her “secret” had been revealed.

      She couldn’t help it; she blushed.

      “I’m

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