frowned. “No. Of course not—well, except for the situation we’re in here.”
“You keep looking at me strangely.”
His gaze remained far too watchful—for a moment. And then he shrugged. “Forgive me. I’m just…curious about you, I guess. Caleb Douglas told me you’re the ‘little girl he never had.’ He raised you, I take it?”
She had no idea why she felt reluctant to answer him. What was there to hide? She said, “My mother and Adele were both from Philadelphia, best friends at Bryn Mawr—you did meet Addy, didn’t you?”
“I did.” He looked like he was waiting to hear more.
So she elaborated. “They had an instant connection, my mother and Addy, from the way Addy tells it. And their families were friends. When my parents died, I was fourteen. There was really no one left in my immediate family to take me. Addy came and got me.” Katie smiled at the memory—Adele, with her suitcases at her feet in the foyer of the Center City brownstone near Rittenhouse Square that had belonged to Katie’s grandparents and their parents before them. When Katie came down the stairs to meet her, Adele held out her arms, her blue eyes shining with tears…
Katie swallowed down the emotion the memory brought with it and Justin asked, “Adele brought you here, then—to Thunder Canyon?”
“That’s right, to live with her and Caleb.”
“And you loved it.”
“Yes, I did. From the first.”
“Because?”
She hesitated. Could he really want to hear all this? But he was looking at her expectantly. So she told him, “It was…just what I’d needed. A close-knit community, where people looked out for each other. I lived at the Lazy D through my teenage years, went to Thunder Canyon High and then on to college in Colorado. As Caleb told you, he and Addy never had a daughter, so it worked out beautifully. For all of us.”
“All?”
“Caleb. Addy. And Riley. Have you met Riley?”
He nodded. “Their son. Caleb introduced me to him a few days ago—and I suppose he’s like a big brother to you?”
She picked up her soggy skirt so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and padded to one of the front windows, where she looked out at the porch, the darkness and the driving snow beyond. “Yes. I think of Riley like a brother…” She turned back to him. “They’re fine people.” Did she sound defensive? A little. She wasn’t really sure why. Something hostile in the way he’d spoken of Riley, maybe.
But why in the world would Justin Caldwell be hostile toward Riley, whom he’d only just met? Clearly, the stress of their situation was getting to her, making her read things into his tone that weren’t there.
She tried for a lighter note. “Caleb is so pleased that you’ve invested in his ski resort.” Caleb had always been a wheeler-dealer. The resort was a longtime dream of his and it was finally coming true. He’d opened an office on Main Street for the project—complete with a model of the future resort in the waiting room—and hired a secretary. Thunder Canyon Ski Resort would be built on a ridge about twenty miles out of town on land the Douglases had owned for generations. Caleb had worked for months, hunting down investors. Everything had finally fallen into place in the past few weeks. Caleb had told her proudly that Justin’s company, Red Rock Developers, was the main reason it was all working out.
“I think it’s a solid investment,” Justin said.
“Good for everyone, then.”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Another silence descended. Oh, this was all so awkward. If she had to get herself stranded in a blizzard, you’d think it might have been with someone she knew. Or at least, maybe someone less…attractive.
He was almost too good-looking, really. And she felt a certain fluttery sensation in her midsection every time she glanced his way. Her excited response to him made her wary.
She wondered if he knew about her money. There was a lot of it. Katie mostly ignored it and let the estate managers handle everything. Her interests were in her family—and to her, that meant the Douglases—and in her town and in the Thunder Canyon Public Library, which she had generously endowed and where she was privileged to work at a job she truly loved.
But she could never completely forget that she was the sole heir to large fortunes on both her mother’s and her father’s side. Everybody in town knew it, of course. She’d even had a couple of boyfriends who’d turned out to be nothing more than fortune hunters in the end. From them she’d learned the hard truth: when it came to men, she had to be careful. If a man seemed interested, there was always a chance that his interest was more in her money than in Katie herself.
Sometimes she wished she could be like other women, and just go for it, when it came to guys. But she had a shy streak and she had too much money, and both made her more guarded than she would have liked to be.
She kept thinking of that kiss, back in the hall, kept remembering the feel of his mouth against hers…
But really, other than that kiss, which had only been for show, he’d made no moves on her. He wasn’t even blaming her for the fact that they were stuck here for Lord knew how long.
She could have been stranded with worse, and she told herself firmly to remember that.
“Deep thoughts?” Justin asked softly.
“Not at all.” She gestured at the trays of food. “If you’ve had all you want, I think we should go ahead and put this stuff away…”
He gave her a level look. She knew what he was thinking. They could very well end up enjoying those sandwiches for breakfast. “Let’s do it.” He rose and picked up a tray and the pitcher of grape drink.
She grabbed another tray and followed him through the main display room, to the kitchen at the back.
Twenty minutes later, they had everything put away. They returned to the reception room and sat down again. They made halting conversation. He told her a little about his company, said he’d started from nothing and had “come a long way.”
“You’re based in…?”
“Bozeman.”
“Did you grow up in Montana?”
“No. I was born in California. We moved a lot. To Oregon for a while and later to Colorado, Nevada, Idaho…”
“Brothers and sisters?”
“Single mom—and she only had me. She died two years ago.”
“It must have been tough for her…”
“Yeah. It was.” He’d rested his dark head back against the knotty pine wall. He glanced her way. “We could use a television. Or at least a radio.”
Boy, could they. “We can look around for one.”
So they returned to the kitchen and went
