squared his shoulders. Broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, where his shirttail was tucked into his jeans. “Stay here as long as you like, AnnaBeth. You’ve found a safe place, a refuge from the storm, here with us at the FieldStone.”
Her heart gave a funny quiver. Her eyes locked with his. She soon became lost in his melted-chocolate eyes.
But truth be told, she was lost in more ways than just the obvious.
After gulping down a quick cup of coffee the next morning, Jonas headed outside to feed the horses before breakfast. On the terrace, he paused to take in the wintry panorama of the ranch.
On the horizon, the surrounding mountain peaks undulated like cresting waves of snow. The precipitation had ended sometime during the wee hours. And sunrise dawned with a crisp, clear beauty. So beautiful it took his breath.
Not unlike the runaway bride he and Hunter had stumbled upon yesterday.
Frowning, he pushed off the patio. He was already regretting what he’d said to AnnaBeth last night. And what he’d inadvertently let slip about himself. But unhappy memories had resurfaced when he realized she’d been jilted at the altar.
He could well imagine her humiliation on what was supposed to be the most wonderful day of her life. How heartbroken she must be. How forsaken she must feel.
Something pinged inside his chest. He clenched his jaw. AnnaBeth wasn’t his responsibility.
Inside the horse barn, he stomped his boots to dislodge the snow. After breakfast, he needed to work on clearing the winding ranch driveway. And call his cousin, Zach. Although, no time like the present...
He blew on his hands before digging his cell phone out of his pocket. Only after several rings did he realize how early it was. Zach might not be—
“Sorry to wake you, Zach. It’s Jonas.”
“Dude...” His cousin grunted. “Ranchers aren’t the only ones running a business. I’ve been up since the storm moved on, towing vehicles all over town that slid off the road or got stuck in the snow.”
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling.” Jonas remembered something else. “Oh, and since you live in town, Mom wanted me to ask you to check on Aunt IdaLee. Make sure she didn’t lose electricity. That she has enough firewood—”
“I’m headed over there right now. She’s got pancakes and sausage waiting for me.”
Their aunt IdaLee was over eighty and had never married. But over the course of her five-decade teaching career, she’d taught nearly everyone in the county. Between all her grown-up former pupils and extended family, Truelove made sure she was well looked after.
A few years younger than Jonas, Zach was a skinny beanpole of a fellow. With a bottomless stomach and NASCAR aspirations.
“Once you’ve filled your belly, cousin, there’s this broken-down vehicle on our—”
“I heard about your stranded snow princess.” Zach snickered.
Jonas could probably thank his mother for that. After dinner, he’d seen her on the phone.
He grimaced. “Her name is AnnaBeth Cummings. Did Aunt IdaLee tell you what happened?”
“Nope. When Miss GeorgeAnne opened the hardware store this morning, she told me. She’s doing a booming business selling snow shovels and sleds. Apparently, Miss GeorgeAnne, Aunt IdaLee and Miss ErmaJean had a conference call last night.”
Flashing back to how ErmaJean the elf had overheard Hunter’s Santa wish, he bit back a groan. “Don’t tell me those old women are already conspiring.”
“You definitely have a bull’s-eye painted on your back, cuz.”
“She’s not my snow bride,” he growled.
“Better you than me, dude. You don’t know how happy I am to not be you.” Zach gave a less-than-sympathetic laugh. “But no can do on towing the car today. The mountain road won’t be clear ’til tomorrow. Until then, for better or for worse, the snow bride is all yours.” He chortled. “Did you see what I did there? Better or worse?”
Jonas clenched his teeth so tight his jaw ached. “We’ll see how hard you’re laughing when I tell Aunt IdaLee it was you playing with matches that caught the Christmas tree on fire that year.”
“I was six!” Zach huffed. “Don’t go getting your spurs in a twist. Whatcha so afraid of? You got no call to be so—”
Jonas ended the call and scrubbed his face. Was he scared of the flatlander? The thought of her emerald-green eyes was like a punch to his gut.
Yep, ’fraid so. Something about AnnaBeth completely addled him. Call him a coward, but a little fear was healthy, right?
He headed toward the stalls. The sooner he could get AnnaBeth on her merry way, the better off he’d be. Until then?
If he had to stay outside all day, he’d do his best to avoid her. Out of sight, out of mind.
Famous last words?
It was the light filtering through the gingham curtain that awakened AnnaBeth. Curled beneath the gorgeous blue-and-white quilt, she felt as cozy as a cat. And as reluctant to move.
A kaleidoscope of yesterday’s events bombarded her memory. Scott and MaryDru. Her frantic flight, the snowstorm and the subsequent rescue by Jonas.
Grabbing her recharged phone off the nightstand, she discovered multiple texts awaiting her. Frantic messages from MaryDru, Scott and at least a dozen from Victoria.
A message from MaryDru said, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to fall in love with Scott. Please don’t hate me. Where are you, A.B.?
She sucked in a breath. As if she could ever hate her beloved baby sister. And she knew MaryDru would’ve never set out to hurt her. Nor Scott, either.
AnnaBeth scrolled farther down the feed. Another one from Mary Dru. Tell me you’re okay. I’m so worried, A.B. Please call. Scott and I will never see one another again.
Not at all what AnnaBeth wanted. MaryDru’s happiness was why she’d run away in the first place.
She opened Scott’s message.
Contrite, sincere Scott. Taking the blame for waiting so long to be honest with himself and her. Begging for her forgiveness. Promising to never see MaryDru again if AnnaBeth would just come home.
Sinking onto the pillow, she closed her eyes. Scott had been a fixture in their lives. The son her father always wanted. Like a brother to her. She now suspected that had been the problem all along.
Yet when he’d looked at MaryDru at the church...
Perhaps no one would ever look at AnnaBeth that way, but she wouldn’t stand by and allow MaryDru to miss her chance at true love.
Rolling onto her stomach, AnnaBeth texted Scott. Nothing to forgive. I want you both to be happy. Don’t give up on MaryDru. Tell her I’m safe and well.
She hit Send. There. That would hopefully get them talking to each other again.
The chain of messages from Victoria mocked her. But without a fortifying cup of coffee, no way she was up to facing those. She turned off the phone.
With one glance at the bedside clock, she threw off the covers. After donning jeans and one of her favorite sweaters, she padded downstairs in her stockinged feet, eager to lend a hand, but she found Deirdre almost finished with breakfast preparations.
“Deirdre,