Let It Snow... (11 page)

“It’s so good to see you again, Trudie. How are you?”

“Fine, thanks. And you?” God, she felt so awkward with Knox in the background. Funny how their lives had been so intertwined—they’d shared some of the same friends, liked to eat at the same restaurants—but they’d still managed to avoid one another for the last year and a half. Trudie found it richly ironic that she and Knox were crossing paths in a place where the town slogan was Welcome to Good Riddance, where you got to leave behind what ailed you. Apparently, she was an exception because she was coming face-to-face with what ailed her, or had ailed him.

“No complaints,” Merrilee said by way of answering Trudie’s inquiry.

“That’s good.” Okay, just say it. Do it. She finally spoke directly to him. She tried not to stare. She’d missed him so much it was hard not to soak him up like a dry sponge. “Hi, Knox.”

“Hey, Trudie.”

She wasn’t sure what to do and neither was he. They both stepped forward, reaching for one another. Should she hug him? Shake his hand? Neither seemed right. She stepped back to where she’d started and Knox mirrored her. It all felt incredibly awkward but also rather wonderful to see him again. It felt as if it had been forever.

“It’s been a while,” she said. She hadn’t intended to sound accusatory, but the censorious note crept in nonetheless. And Jessup was still by her side.

Merrilee looked from Trudie to Knox and nodded. “Excuse me, I need to check on something and I’m sure you two are eager to catch up.”

Merrilee had neatly backed them into a corner. Either of them could hardly declare they had no interest in sitting down with the other.

“So, how have you been, Trudie?” Knox said. “You look good. Real good.”

A shiver slid through her at the tone of his voice, at the words. How many times, in the last year and a half, had she wondered what it would be like if he saw her as a woman? Now it seemed that perhaps he did. “Thanks. I cut my hair.”

She’d always kept her light brown hair long. Now it swung against her shoulders and bangs feathered her forehead. The hairdresser had woven in low lights and the style framed her face.

“I like it.” The look in his eyes sent heat coursing through her.

Trudie nodded. “So do I.” She wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself and she was suddenly burning up. She unwound the scarf from her neck and tugged it off. It didn’t do much to cool her down. “You look good, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He shoved his hands in his blue-jean pockets and shifted from one foot to another. “Want to grab a bite to eat next door?”

She hesitated. She should say she had other things to do. She should politely decline because he was here with Elsa. She should just let him...it...them go...but Trudie found she couldn’t. How much harm could come from a half-hour lunch?

She thought she’d steeled herself for seeing him again, but she wasn’t immune to him. She wasn’t so much hungry for food as she was to know how he was and what had been going on in his life. Half an hour, an hour tops. “Sure. You know I can always eat.” She tacked on the last bit so that he didn’t think sitting down at Gus’s, the restaurant right next door to the bed and breakfast and the airstrip center, was personal.

Of course, Gus’s was the gathering place and news spread in Good Riddance like wildfire during a drought. Elsa would know Trudie and Knox were eating together before they finished the meal. She almost asked him if that was going to be a problem but decided to keep her mouth shut.

Knox knew how things were in Good Riddance. But he was a big boy, and if his sharing a table with Trudie posed a problem with Elsa, then that was between the two of them, wasn’t it?

Knox had ceased being her business when he walked out of her life.

2

K
NOX
INSTRUCTED
Jessup to wait for them in the airstrip center—the dog was normally very well disciplined, but Knox cut the canine some slack. He understood. Knox had never been much of a hugger, but he’d had an almost overwhelming urge to touch Trudie, to feel her warmth next to his, to inhale her scent. He had, however, not done any of those things. He wasn’t sure that Trudie would welcome a hug from him these days. He wasn’t so great at people interactions but he was tuned into animals and she’d reminded him of a wounded cat that called for a very cautious approach.

He held the door leading from the airstrip to Gus’s for Trudie. Her scent, the sound of her voice, her presence stirred a slew of memories—of Christmases past, nearly a lifetime past, decorating Christmas trees, cross-country skiing. She’d assisted him as he doctored a hurt cat who turned out to be Mr. Finch’s feline from down the street, which had started a precedent of wounded animals seeming to find their way to him. Trudie had always been by his side to help out. He’d wondered more than once if wounded animals found their way to him when he was a kid because they’d sensed a kindred spirit in him. He’d had a connection with animals that he simply hadn’t found with humans...except for Mormor and, in retrospect, Trudie.

Elsa would probably flip a bitch when she found out that he and Trudie were hanging out at Gus’s, but she’d get over it. He and Trudie were just two old friends catching up and he and Elsa were only here together for appearance sake—the sake of her appearance as Snow Queen.

Gus’s was jam-packed. The place was a mix of laughter and loud conversation. A soap opera blared on one of the wall-mounted televisions while “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” played at a high volume on the jukebox in the back corner. The smell of grilled food set his stomach growling.

“Wow, it’s busy,” Trudie said, stopping right inside the door, mainly because there wasn’t enough room to continue walking.

Knox, caught unawares, bumped into the back of her. Instinctively, he grabbed her to keep from pitching forward. Instead, the back of her pressed hard against the front of him. Her hair brushed against his chin and cheek while her scent, light and innocent yet seductive, teased him. Something wild and hot coursed through him—desire of such a magnitude that he didn’t initially recognize it as such. He wanted to wrap his arms around her from behind, press more firmly into the cushion of her backside, test the area of her exposed neck with his lips to see if it was as sweet as it was tantalizing.

Instead, he immediately released her. She took a half step forward as he half stepped back.

Crap, he was turned on...by Trudie. That was the feeling he’d felt when he’d first seen her, but it had been so foreign in conjunction with Trudie that he hadn’t recognized it. He knew it now. Blood had rushed hard, fast and hot to his head, the one between his thighs that tended to fog the thinking of the one on his shoulders.

Trudie glanced behind at him. “Are you okay? Did I step on your toes?”

No, you rocked against my penis and turned my world upside down. “I’m fine. You didn’t catch my toes. How about you? You okay?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I think we’re out of luck. There’s no room to sit and standing room is crowded over at the bar.”

Knox glanced around the room. Booths lined the wall to the right of the main doorway. Every seat at the bar was taken. More booths formed a short L shape against the back wall while tables filled the open floor space ahead of them. Both pool tables were in use and a couple of guys were arguing good-naturedly over a dart game. It didn’t look as if anyone was on the verge of giving up a spot.

“You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

He wondered how long she’d been waiting to say that. Maybe a year and a half? “We could get it to go,” Knox said.

“And eat where?”

“Elsa’s staying here, but I’m staying out at the cabin.”

“You’re at the cabin?”

“Well, I will be. I haven’t made it that far yet.”

“Have you been since...”

She didn’t have to say it. She was asking if he’d been there since he’d lost Mormor. “No. This is the first time.” He paused and she said it before he could ask.

“Do you want me there?”

He hadn’t realized it until that instant, but he didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

She paused. “What about Elsa?”

He deliberately answered as if he’d misunderstood. “She’s busy with some Chrismoose activities. I think she had an interview over at the community center with a newspaper person. You want a burger?” Trudie loved burgers, fries and a good, cold beer.

“Sure. Medium—”

“Well,” he finished. He knew what she liked, at least food-wise. Now he was foolishly burning to know what she liked in other respects. Did she like kissing? How did she like to be kissed? How had he missed the tempting, succulent fullness of her lower lip? Was her neck sensitive? How did she like to be touched? And that was some dangerous thought paths to follow.... He brought his attention back to burgers and beers. “And I have some Mad Moose in the ice chest.”

They’d “discovered” the micro-brewed beer about eight years ago.

“But of course,” Trudie said with a smile that struck him as a bit forced. He knew the feeling.

“Wait here and I’ll go put in our order.”

The wait was saved from awkwardness when several people stopped by to chat, many to offer condolences for his grandmother. Surprisingly, given how crowded the place was, a quarter of an hour later they were making their way out of Gus’s, to-go boxes in hand.

They stopped by the airstrip and picked up Jessup. A sense of déjà vu washed over him. It was so much like old times—her, him, the dog. Yet it was all different and had changed so drastically. Showed how deceptive outward appearances could be.

“How are your parents? Are they here?” Knox said as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. Snow crunched underfoot. Christmas lights winked and blinked in the business windows lining the street. Snow drifted down lazily while children played with a puppy on the corner, their laughter mingling with the pup’s shrill bark.

“They’re both fine, just really busy. Mom’s got meetings she can’t get out of until later in the week and you know Dad isn’t going anywhere without her so they’ll be up in a couple of days.”

Trudie’s folks had gotten married in high school when Harriet had turned up pregnant. They were one of those rare cases where things had worked out and they’d not only stayed together but were incredibly devoted to one another. They each had their own interests, but Eldon Brown would never come to Chrismoose without Harriet.

Knox nodded. “You’re actually here a little earlier than usual,” he said as he steered her.

“I came ahead to get the cabin set up and to help with the floral stuff.” Trudie had always loved flowers and had an artistic streak to boot so it had been a no-brainer when she’d gone to work with a floral center and had done quite well at it. Knox knew she ultimately wanted to have her own shop one day...or at least that had been the plan once upon a time.

She paused as if unsure whether to continue and then obviously chose to go ahead. “They’ve missed you. Mom worries about you.”

Something inside him turned over, touched by her words. Funny how much it meant to hear that Harriet Brown worried about him. He’d been an orphan at the age of eight, but with Mormor he’d never felt like one. He didn’t suppose that twenty-eight year old men could feel orphaned, but dammit, he had when he lost Mormor. It had been traumatic when his parents had died, but Mormor had anchored him and he’d adjusted.

None of that had been the case when he lost Mormor. In retrospect, he realized he’d been in a state of shock when he’d hooked up with Elsa. In a normal world and with rightful thinking, Trudie and her parents would’ve been a comfort. But there was nothing normal or right about losing Mormor, and in a crazy way the Browns were part of what he’d lost so he’d distanced himself. But now...with time and more time...it was damn nice to hear that Harriet Brown had worried about him...that they still cared about him. Elsa and her folks were nice, but it simply wasn’t the same. He realized at that moment just how much he’d missed the Browns. And Trudie.

“That’s good to hear.” He opened the truck door for her and Jessup jumped in ahead of her. Trudie followed the dog into the cab. “I’ve stayed away too long,” Knox said.

She busied herself clicking her seatbelt into place. “Yes, you have,” she said without looking at him.

He closed her door, rounded the cab, and climbed in on the other side. Jessup, the big sap, had his head on Trudie’s thigh and was gazing up at her adoringly. Knox, rather confusingly, was feeling the same ever since she’d backed into him and awoken an awareness of her as a woman.

All these years, she’d been his buddy who happened to be a girl. Now, it was as if scales had suddenly dropped from his eyes and he saw her for the beautiful, sexy woman she was.

“Nice truck,” she said, interrupting his thought, which was just as well.

“Thanks. I got it last year.” Elsa had told him he needed something newer, bigger, faster—something that reflected who he really was. He liked it well enough, but he was just getting it to the point that it was broken in and comfortable.

He glanced over at Trudie, her profile etched in dark relief, familiar yet unfamiliar. He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel to keep from reaching over and tracing the curve of her cheek, wrapping his hand around the nape of her neck and tugging her to meet him until he felt her lips against his and tasted her mouth.

How many times had they shared the cab of his truck? Innumerable, but this time was different. Was it the truck? Was it her? Him? All of the above? Hell if he knew, he just knew it was.

He’d never been turned on by Trudie before. Apparently he was making up for lost time.

* * *

T
RUDIE
WAS
surprised she could still actually breathe. Sharing the confines of the cab with Knox was simultaneously torturous and wonderful. Outside it was dark, cold and snowy. In here it simply smelled like man and dog...and unfortunately, Elsa’s perfume. Regardless, Trudie had more than missed Knox. She’d ached for him, been bereft without him. She would not, however, fall back into that feeling, that trap.

Outside, light spilled out of the storefronts lining Main Street, the windows decorated for the season—some more native-inclined, some geared toward the religious celebration, while others were simply festooned with ribbons, lights and greenery. A makeshift RV city had been set up in the empty lot that was the baseball diamond in the summer. A few hardy souls had actually pitched tents, but for the most part it was travel-trailers behind trucks and motor homes. Trudie noticed a psychedelic painted school bus with a big peace sign on the front hood. The Hatchers were here. They’d been coming for years. It really wouldn’t be Chrismoose without them, just as it hadn’t really been Chrismoose last season without Knox and Mormor. She had missed him.

“So, have you missed me?” Knox said.

His question startled her. She and Knox had spent so much time together for so long they used to complete one another’s sentences, but she’d figured some of that connection would have been lost. She certainly didn’t want him tapping into all of her thoughts and feelings. However, it had always been part relief and part frustration that he’d never tapped into the way she really felt about him. Now would be a bad time to start. Still, after the chasm that had separated them for the past couple of years, it was a little uncanny that his question echoed her thought.

“Have you missed me?” she countered. She tensed inside. His answer meant far more to her than it should have at this juncture. She needed to keep her perspective.

She caught the flash of white teeth as he grinned in the glow of the dashboard, the storefront lights of Good Riddance having been left behind. His smile set off her pulse like a runaway train. The headlights illuminated the world of snowy white around them. “I asked you first,” he said.

Trudie swallowed her disappointment at his nonanswer. She needed to lighten up. “Of course I have. I haven’t found anyone else I can beat at Scrabble as mercilessly as I can beat you.”

He laughed, the warm, rich sound filling the cabin, washing over her like warm water. “Ha.”

“You asked.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Jessup settled his head more firmly on her thigh and she absently rubbed his soft fur with her left hand, finding comfort in the familiar contours and the press of his weight against her leg.

There was an arousing familiarity to Knox’s hands on the steering wheel—broad, strong hands. Heaven knew how much in the last year and a half she’d longed to feel his hands, his mouth, his skin against hers in the throes of passion. She had thought she’d finally put that behind her.

But, she couldn’t leave the issue Knox had raised alone. She’d answered his inquiry, now he could do the same. “You’ve missed me?”

“Sure. No one makes chocolate chip cookies quite like you do.” There was a forced heartiness to his declaration.

She’d set the standard with the Scrabble statement but nonetheless she wanted to bang him over the head. Her cookies? He’d missed her damn cookies?

He sighed quietly in the silence. “I have missed you, Trudie.” He paused, the words hanging between them, weaving deep into her soul, cracking through the hard shell she’d encased her heart in. “I’m sorry I never called.”

Suddenly everything seemed much better in her world with that one simple admission and his apology. “Thanks.”

While it was good to hear, where did it leave them? Pretty much nowhere. She consciously dialed herself back. She’d never trusted anyone the way she’d trusted Knox and he’d turned his back on her. He’d flat out walked away and left her standing alone and hurting and she’d be damned if she was willing to go there with him again. She’d be all kinds of a fool to open herself to that...and she was a lot of things but she wasn’t a fool.

“We were good friends—” she knew he wouldn’t miss the past tense there “—so of course we’ve missed one another, but that’s kind of life, isn’t it? There’s an ebb and flow to everything, especially relationships. We ebbed. It happens.” She shrugged. Once again, she reminded herself to lighten things up. “So, did you do any fishing last season? I caught a forty-pound halibut last year.”