Up to Snow Good: A Small Town Holiday Romance Read online

  Up to Snow Good

  A holiday Romeo and Juliet with a happy ending.

  Kelly Collins

  Copyright © 2020 by Kelley Maestas

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Foreword

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Need Some Holiday Happiness?

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  About the Author

  Foreword

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to Moss Creek where treachery, betrayal and angst hide in every corner. Journey with Lauren and Max on their path to happily ever after.

  This is a brief departure from Aspen Cove, and I hope you enjoy the Romeo and Juliet-like Christmas tale. It’s A Christmas Carol meets Miracle on 34th Street with a battle for money and power at the center.

  Happy reading,

  Kelly

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  Chapter One

  Lauren

  Lauren Matthews stood behind the registration desk, wishing she could pound her head against the wall instead of smile into the phone. Her mother used to say a smile helped a voice sound chipper, but all it was doing now was making her jaw hurt.

  “I understand, Mrs. Pitkin. No, there is no snow in the forecast, but the lodge is a lovely place to vacation, regardless.” She listened to all the reasons the family of five couldn’t come and deleted their reservation before she hung up.

  The Robinson’s sat on the couch in front of the fire, where she had relaxed countless times. The smell of pine sat thick in the air. She could almost see her mother’s face in Arlene Robinson’s, the guest from Tampa, Florida, celebrating the fortieth wedding anniversary to her husband, Bill.

  The chandelier attracted her attention. Six ten-point bucks’ antlers supported a ring of eighteen lights. The cords inconspicuously wrapped in black chain led up to the ceiling. She could hardly look at it and not think of the day her father hung it. He had stood on the top rung of the ladder, looking down at her from that dizzying height with a hopeful smile for their future in Moss Creek, Colorado. Now, as she surveyed the lobby of Sunshine Lodge, she could see that the echoes of her childhood lived in every corner.

  It seemed like so long ago. Her tears were so ready to push forward as she imagined her mother, on that last day, looking at her from her bed, red hair faded, pale expression drained, and a sad smile that was the last she could offer her daughter.

  Lauren wiped the tears away and tidied the registration counter where her mother, Judith, would have been beaming joyfully, and feeling blessed to be alive, in love, and living in Colorado.

  Lauren shoved the memories aside. She wasn’t her mother, and she didn’t feel blessed. There were too many things on her mind to worry about. Love had no place in her life, and she had no time for pointless emotions.

  The clogged gutters needed fixing, the buckling hardwood floor in the game room was a hazard to all who walked across it, and two of her employees snuck into the stables nightly, doing who knew what. On top of all that, two hundred dollars kept disappearing every month.

  She shook her head as she swiped the screen of her tablet, one spreadsheet replacing the other with her family holdings at her fingertips. Everything they’d come to Colorado and created sat in columns of numbers on a digital screen, but those numbers were getting smaller, causing a cold feeling to stir in her belly.

  She sighed and turned to look out the window at the Rocky Mountains, waiting for a miracle. It was once a snowcapped playground for locals and visitors from all over the country. Families, fitness buffs, and wealthy fashionistas enjoyed the powdered snow and the pines as their seasonal celebration.

  Those things seemed lost to her in that odd and melancholy moment. The snow hadn’t come back to Moss Creek as it had the year before, and that had been the best year in a streak of five warmer ones. Those brown jagged cliffs in the mountainside had their own natural beauty, filled with pines and coyotes and deer, but they also seemed a terrible omen of the changes that were coming. For Sunshine Lodge, those changes meant a slow but sure death.

  While the horses were still popular among the girls and children, nothing brought in visitors like the snow. It seemed like it would take a miracle to bring that back, at least enough to put the lodge on track.

  She caught a glance of herself in the mirror as she walked by. Still in her late twenties, she could see her mother’s reflection more than her own. She was the spitting image of the brave woman who’d helped create the lodge, and whose spirit seemed to live in the walls, the floors, and the air, but whose presence seemed to fade with every passing day.

  Pushing it out of her heart and mind, she walked out the French doors and into the backyard. She couldn’t escape the uneasiness—a strange nervousness she couldn’t name. There were plenty of reasons for it, but even the fate of Sunshine Lodge wasn’t the cause of her anxiety.

  The Colorado winter spread out in front of her, a deep breath of cool air kissing her cheeks. A hawk circled overhead, as blue jays sang in the distance. The sun was bright in a sky speckled with fluffy, white clouds. There was no denying it was gorgeous, but it was frightening in its beauty. Summer weather surrounded her, and December had just begun.

  Her father, Frank Matthews, swung his lasso over his head, looking the picture of the rugged cowboy that settled the country so many generations before.

  He let out a “Yeehaw” to entertain the guests. He drew his weathered face into a craggy smile, a look that showed bravery and confidence even in the presence of a coming storm.

  The little Reilly girl, Alice, and her family sat watching her father’s display, the lasso seeming to hover over his head, and then to his left and his right. They clapped and smiled and seemed to adore him in the same way Lauren always had. It was too easy to see herself in the little girl’s face. Amazement and pride filled her in equal measure.

  A quick flash of worry and confusion replaced her father’s smile. The rope hit the ground as he took a single step back. His right arm pulled up to his ch
est, with his fingers clawing at his plaid shirt. A second step backward told Lauren he wouldn’t stay on his feet for long. She threw herself at him, arms out, mouth already twisting in panic.

  “Daddy!”

  She ran past the guests to her stricken father. A chill passed through her as he hit the ground. She wrapped him in her arms, and his head fell heavily against her shoulder.

  “Dad, what’s wrong?” She wiped the sweat from his brow and stared into his eyes. They seemed to fade in front of her. Their vibrant blue turning to a soft gray.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice weak and wispy, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh, Dad.” She looked at their stunned guests while Mr. Reilly pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped on the screen. “Tell them to send the helicopter!”

  Her father winced, his face contorting into a mask of pain. A second later brought calm as his muscles relaxed. “It’s okay,” he rasped.

  “Be still and save your strength,” she told him.

  He turned, looking past her to the property, but his focus seemed fixed. She moved to see, but there was nothing behind her that would have captured his attention.

  “Judith?” Tears pushed out of Lauren’s eyes as he called to her mother. With clammy palms, she stroked her father’s graying hair. “I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart.”

  Lauren knew then what her father was envisioning, what was happening to him. Their guests looked on as the sound of distant rotors moved toward them. They would come, but it would be too late.

  “I can’t,” he said with a frightened shake of his head, “she needs me, you know that.”

  His body shook again, and Lauren could almost feel the explosive agony in her own chest. Her heart burst along with his. He turned to look up at her, his body trembling, the cold sweat pouring from his forehead. She could already feel the chill overtake her, passing from his body into hers.

  “It’s okay,” she said, tears burning her cheeks.

  He looked past her again, and Lauren knew he was seeing her mother. She had returned to escort him home. “I can’t.”

  A bittersweet smile crept across her face, and her vision blurred with tears. She wanted him to stay with her forever but knew it wouldn’t happen. Even though he was the last of her family, his final moments deserved to be peaceful and without a battle. He’d fought his whole life for what he had. He’d worked hard—too hard. Now his struggle was over.

  She fought back the gasping and tears to say, “Yes, Dad, you can. Go to her.”

  The Reilly’s were weeping along with all the guests who were collecting in a circle around them.

  Patrick and Cindy ran from their hideaway in the stables toward her. Ruthie stood nearby, twisting her apron.

  Her father looked up one final time, his brows strained, and eyes fading. “I’m sorry, so sorry.” His head slumped to the side, and his muscles relaxed.

  Martha Reilly continued to cry while she buried her face into her husband’s chest. Pat and Cindy clung to one another too, but their sorrow could not compare to the paralyzing cold sweeping through every fiber of Lauren’s body.

  The sobs came in uncontrollable waves, shaking her body, and twisting her face as they poured out. Mouth open, her voice rang out in a wordless wail as she sat bent over her father’s body, knowing she would never see him or hear his voice again.

  Chapter Two

  Lauren

  Pastor Higgins looked out over the congregation, his voice low and solemn, his jowls wriggling with every breath he took and word he spoke. “We are here today to pay our respect to a man of God, our brother, Frank Matthews.

  Not only have people from this congregation and community gathered but many who have respected and loved Frank as a friend. We are here today to show our love and support for Lauren. We have sensed our own personal feelings of loss over Frank’s passing, but now we draw our hearts toward her, and will continue to be with her in this trying time.”

  Lauren sat in the front row, draped in black, and numb with resolution. It had been three days, and the cold truth had set in. Details had to be seen to, sympathetic expressions returned, and casseroles delivered by caring neighbors. Life went on, and she could only try to catch up.

  She’d only recently come back home to help her father with the lodge. He was aging and losing her mother had taken its toll on him. Her parents had wanted to pass their dream down to her to preserve their legacy, but the pressure was overwhelming.

  The pastor’s voice became louder and stronger, and the words gave her renewed hope and strength, but they alone would not be enough.

  She glanced at the mourning congregation and looked back at Pastor Higgins, who wore a determined frown on his face. The light shone through the stained glass windows and reflected a rainbow of colors that danced across his balding head. “Go in peace.”

  After the burial, the community gathered around her, approaching with their kind thoughts and condolences. Even Mayor Shipley was there, his stout figure encased in a well-tailored black suit. Deputy Mayor Roberts stood next to him. He was the dapper young man who was making his own name among the residents of the little resort town where kindness and honesty went a long way.

  “If there’s anything we can do.” Mayor Shipley asked, taking Lauren’s hand. “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Everybody had made the same offer, but there was little that anyone could do, and they all seemed to know it. There was no risk of her asking for anything, and that could be why they offered.

  Sally Clemens walked up to Lauren, her aging face set in a sympathetic frown, her brows arched toward the center of her cosmetically enhanced forehead. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Your father was a good man, a fantastic man.” She put her sun-spotted hand on Lauren’s arm to comfort her. “Anyway, I’m sorry for your loss. If there’s anything I can do, all you got to do is ask.”

  Lauren’s fake smile, which was bordering on a grimace, almost hurt her face as her cheeks strained to keep it there. She shared a glance with another Moss Creek luminary. Lucille Dubois stood near the grave and offered Lauren a nod of respect, but a glare seemed to follow Sally as she stepped away and faded into the crowd. Lucille had a reputation for being haughty and wasn’t well-liked. Sally, the brassy bar owner, definitely wasn’t a fan. A nod from Lucille was all Lauren would get, and it was more than enough.

  Their accountant, Sam Phelps, stepped up and gave Lauren a hug. He held it longer than she would have liked, but it was easy enough to attribute that to the powerful emotions of the day. His short, black hair clung to his head, while his handsome face softened into a comforting smile. “How are you holding up?”

  She nodded but knew she wasn’t fooling anybody, least of all herself. Sam seemed to know that too and set a hand on her arm to offer comfort. The lingering tension between them was impossible to ignore. He wouldn’t make further mention of it, not today, but the issues her father’s death brought up could not be ignored for long.

  Another familiar face sent a jolt through Lauren’s consciousness.

  Max Hunter looked at her from across the gravesite. His brown hair groomed to perfection, his sculpted cheeks and chin catching the glint of sunlight that peeked through the winter clouds. His eyes, large and brown, locked onto hers. Her nerves seemed to rise to the surface, as her memory flashed with images that inspired too many conflicting emotions to absorb. Everything about him was either love or hate. There was no middle ground.

  When he approached, she thought about turning and walking away, but her legs held her in place, and a strange calm pushed her head and shoulders back as he broke into an awkward smile.

  “Lauren, hello.”

  “Max.” After a nervous pause, she added, “Good of you to come.” She hadn’t seen him in years, but the pain of losing him still squeezed her heart.

  “My father didn’t think it was appropriate for him to come, but he sends his condolences.”

  “I understand,” she said, not needing to be m
ore specific. “He’s well, I hope.”

  “He is, thank you. You know my father, he’s unstoppable.”

  “My grandmother too,” Max added.

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” she said with complete sincerity. “She was always such a fiery spirit.”

  He nodded and seemed to fall into contemplation. “She was,” he repeated, shaking his head.

  What Max wasn’t saying about his ancient grandmother spoke volumes. She was still alive in body, and neither had to remind the other that her father was not.

  “Anyway,” Max said, forcing a cordial expression on his face, “I’m sorry to hear about your dad, we all are.”

  “Give your family my best,” she said, hoping he would take the sentiment in the same loving spirit she intended, but she didn’t hold out much hope. There were other things to worry about and reflecting on Max, and the whole Hunter family debacle was more than she could manage.

  “It’s great to see you.” He reached forward as if he’d take her hand or hug her, but stepped back.

  “You too.” It was good to see a face that had once been friendly. Not that he’d ever been unfriendly, but their parents’ feud had driven a stake into both of their twined hearts, and it forced them to choose between love and family.