Page 81 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
“Snowplow, you mean?” Don said with a gruff laugh. “King County is lucky if they have more than a handful. There isn’t that much call for them.” He walked to the picture window and held back the draperies with one hand. “You know, it might not be a bad idea if you stayed the night and left first thing in the morning.”
Slade hesitated. “I don’t know. If I miss this meeting, it’ll mean having to wait over the Christmas holiday to reschedule.”
“You’ll have a better chance of making it safely to Seattle in the morning. The roads tonight are going to be treacherous.”
Slade slowly expelled his breath. “I have the distinct feeling you may be right. Without any streetlights, Lord knows where I’d end up.”
“I believe you’d be wise to delay your drive. Besides, that will give us time for another game.”
Slade’s gaze shifted to Shelly and softened. “Right,” he concurred.
The two men were up until well past midnight, engrossedin one chess match after another. After watching a few games, Shelly decided to say good-night and go to bed.
Half an hour later Shelly lay in her bed in her darkened room, dreading the approach of morning. In some ways it would have been easier if Slade had left immediately after dropping her off. And in other ways it was far better that he’d stayed.
She fell asleep with the bright red numbers of the clock insidiously counting down the minutes to six o’clock when Slade would be leaving. There was nothing she could do to hold back time.
Before even being aware that she’d fallen asleep, she was startled into wakefulness by the discordant drone of the alarm.
Tossing aside the covers, she automatically reached for the thick housecoat she kept at her father’s. Pausing only long enough to run a comb through her hair and brush her teeth, she rushed into the living room.
Slade was already dressed and holding a cup of coffee. “I guess it’s time to say goodbye.”
Five
Shelly ran a hand over her weary eyes and blinked. “You’re right,” she murmured, forcing a smile. “The time has come.”
“Shelly—”
“Listen—”
“You first,” Slade said, and gestured toward her with his open hand.
Dropping her gaze, she shrugged one shoulder. “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to wish you and Margaret every happiness.”
His gaze softened, and she wondered if he knew what it had cost her to murmur those few words. She did wish him happiness, but she was convinced that he wouldn’t find it with a cold fish like Margaret. Forcefully she directed her gaze across the room. For all her good intentions, she was doing it again—judging someone else. And she hadn’t even met Margaret.
When she turned back his eyes delved into hers. “Thank you.”
“You wanted to say something?” she prompted softly.
He hesitated. “Be happy, Shelly.”
A knot formed in her throat as she nodded. He was telling her goodbye,reallygoodbye. He wouldn’t see her again, because it would be too dangerous for them both. Their lives were already plotted, their courses set. And whatever it was that they’d shared so briefly, it wasn’t meant to be anything more than a passing fancy.
The front door opened and her father entered, brushing the snow from his pant legs. A burst of frigid air accompanied him, and she shivered.
“As far as I can see you shouldn’t have a problem,” Don said to Slade. “We’ve got maybe seven to ten inches of snow, but there’re plenty of tire tracks on the road. Just follow those.”
Unable to listen anymore, she headed into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of hot black coffee. Clasping the mug with both hands, she braced her hip against the counter and closed her eyes. Whatever Slade and her father were saying to each other didn’t matter to her. She was safer in the kitchen, where she wouldn’t be forced to watch him leave. The only sound that registered in her mind was the clicking of the front door opening and closing.
Slade had left. He was gone from the house. Gone from her life. Gone forever. She refused to mope. He’d touched her heart, and she should be glad. For a long time she’d begun to wonder if there was something physically wrong with her because she couldn’t respond to a man. Slade hadn’t so much as kissed her, but she’d experienced a closeness to him that she hadn’t felt with all the men she’d dated in San Francisco. Without even realizing it, he had granted her the priceless giftof expectancy. If he was capable of stirring her restless heart, then so would another.
Humming softly, she set a skillet on the burner and laid thick slices of bacon across it. This was the day before Christmas, and it promised to be a full one. She couldn’t be sad or filled with regrets when she was surrounded by everything she held dear.
The door opened again, and her father called cheerfully, “Well, he’s off.”
“Good.” She hoped her tone didn’t give away her feelings.
