Snowbound in Montana by C. J. Carmichael

Author:C. J. Carmichael [Carmichael, C. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, christmas
Goodreads: 23267279
Publisher: Audible Studios
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

‡

Christmas morning. Marshall opened his eyes to a chilly room that seemed a little brighter than it had been for a while.

Could it be sunshine?

But no, when he checked out the window, it was still snowing, albeit lightly.

Eliza had pulled her blanket up over her head, so only her nose peeked out.

Cute nose.

He’d fallen asleep, despite his intentions of watching over the fire, and Eliza, all night. Just a few embers were glowing in the hearth now, and quickly he went to add logs, and get the blaze going again.

While he was crouched at the hearth, he heard a husky voice from behind him.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you.” He dusted ash from his hands, then went back to his place on the sectional. “Did you sleep, okay? I hope you weren’t too cold.”

“I was fine. I admit I considered cuddling next to you when I woke up a few hours ago. But I grabbed this extra blanket, instead.”

He noted the new blanket, spread over the one he’d placed on her several hours ago. “I would have been good with the cuddling.”

She glanced at him, probably checking to see if he was teasing. But that was a game he didn’t even know how to play. In that moment, he envied men like John Urban who knew the clever words to say, the smooth moves to make. All he could do was stoke the fire so she would be warm. And offer to bring her a cup of coffee.

“Oh, coffee would be wonderful.”

He went to the kitchen where he found Betsy busy at the stove, while Griff enjoyed his first coffee of the morning. After wishing them a Merry Christmas, he filled two mugs, adding milk to one.

“I think the storm is easing up,” Griff commented.

“Too late to save Christmas,” Betsy noted glumly. “I’m out of eggs. It’ll have to be frozen waffles and strawberry preserves for breakfast.”

“Do the best you can,” Marshall said. “And let me handle the complaints.”

Betsy touched his arm. “You’ve been such a trooper. I know some tour guides who would have gone berserk by now.”

He shrugged. Temper tantrums were for children. And they couldn’t make the snow stop falling or give access to the supply trucks that had been scheduled to arrive days ago.

He took the coffee to Eliza and found her folding up the blankets they’d used that night. She accepted the mug with a smile. “Thank God Betsy hasn’t run out of coffee, yet.” She took a sip then moved to one of the windows. “It looks lighter today.”

“Yes.”

“Once the snow stops, how long will it take to plow the roads?”

“Somewhere between eight to twelve hours,” he guessed.

Her face fell, as she realized that even in a best-case scenario they would be stranded for another night. The prospect for Christmas was as dismal as ever.

A few minutes later, they heard pounding on the stairs, and then Kevin rushed into the room. He stopped at the tree, and his shoulders slumped. “He didn’t come.”

Behind him, his mother and father were entering the room at a much more relaxed pace.

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