Page 6 of Snowed-in With The Mountain Man
My entire existence has been upended, and somehow, I've never been happier.
"You don't have to spoil her," Stella says, entering the kitchen with damp hair from her shower, cheeks flushed from the heat. "She'd survive on something other than pancakes."
"But why should she have to?" I flip the pancakes with practiced ease. "Besides, I'm making up for lost time."
The words slip out before I can consider their weight. Lost time. Two years of Chellie's life I missed. Eight years of Stella's.
An awkward silence falls between us, broken only by Chellie banging her fork against the table.
"So what's on the agenda today?" I ask, sliding fresh pancakes onto Chellie's plate and cutting them into bite-sized pieces. "Getting tired of being cooped up in the cabin yet?"
"A little," Stella admits, accepting a mug of coffee. "But I'm not sure we should go into town. What if someone recognizes me and word gets back to Rick somehow?"
The protective urge flares in my chest. "Whisper Vale isn't exactly on social media. And half the town probably doesn't even remember you moved away."
She raises an eyebrow. "Small towns have long memories."
"True." I join them at the table with my own stack of pancakes. "But you can't hide forever. This is your home too."
Something softens in her expression. "It was. I'm not sure it still is."
"It could be again." I keep my voice casual, though my heart pounds at the implications. "If you wanted."
Chellie interrupts the moment by dropping her fork with a clatter. "Done! Outside?"
"It's snowing, baby," Stella smooths her daughter's wild curls. "Maybe another day."
"Snow!" Chellie's eyes widen with excitement rather than disappointment. "Play snow!"
"You've never seen snow?" I ask, surprised.
"We lived in San Diego," Stella explains. "She's seen it in books but never experienced it."
The thought of Chellie's first snow makes a decision for me. "We have to go outside then. No question."
"Ridge, we don't have proper clothes for this weather. Her coat is too light, and I didn't pack snow boots."
I stand, already formulating a plan. "Give me twenty minutes."
Before she can protest, I'm grabbing my keys and heading out. The drive to Jared's General Store takes ten minutes on snow-covered roads. I'm back in fifteen, laden with bags.
Stella meets me at the door, concern etched across her face. "Where did you run off to?"
"Shopping." I hold up the bags triumphantly. "Proper winter gear for my favorite girls."
The phrase slips out naturally, and I watch as Stella's eyes widen slightly. But she doesn't correct me. Doesn't remind me that they aren't mine to claim.
I unpack my bounty on the living room floor. A pink snowsuit for Chellie, sized to grow with her through the winter. Waterproof mittens. A hat with earflaps and a pompom on top. Tiny snow boots with grippy soles. For Stella, a properly insulated coat, boots, gloves, and a knit beanie that brings out the gold flecks in her brown eyes.
"Ridge, this is too much." She fingers the price tag still attached to her coat. "I can't let you spend this kind of money on us."
"Already done." I snip the tags with scissors. "Consider it eight years of missed birthday presents."
She looks like she might argue further, but Chellie is already reaching for the pink snowsuit with grabby hands. "Pink! Mine!"
"Yours indeed, princess." I help her step into it, zipping her up until she resembles a puffy marshmallow with legs. She giggles, the sound like sunshine breaking through clouds.
Twenty minutes later, we're all bundled up and stepping onto the porch. The world is transformed into a white wonderland, fat flakes drifting lazily from a pearl-gray sky. The forest surrounding my property is hushed, tree boughs sagging under their white burden.
