"How long you folks been walking?"
"Just over an hour. I think our car is about three miles up. We slid off the road. Then poor Jamie here stepped in a hole. I'm not sure if she broke her ankle or just sprained it, but we had to leave the bag I was carrying. I'd sure appreciate it if you would let me collect it."
"Not a problem at all. We'll also check on your car."
"That would be wonderful," I said. It would be great to have a change of clothing. I pulled my gloves off so I could hold my hands in front of the vents. I had been so preoccupied in Grant's arms I didn't realize how cold I was.
It took Tim less than two minutes to spot our bag on the side of the road where we had left it. Grant jumped from the vehicle to retrieve it. He brushed off the snow and handed it me to hold on my lap with my purse. When he climbed back into the truck, he was careful not to bump my ankle, which had started throbbing now that it was no longer elevated over his arm.
"Our car should be pretty close from here," Grant said, closing his door hard.
"How's your ankle feel, missy," Tim asked, shifting the truck from first to second gear.
"I'm not sure to tell you the truth, but I know it hurts," I admitted, grimacing.
"I'll bet. Don't worry. Doc Jones will get you fixed up."
Grant and I both burst out laughing. Tim shot us a look like we'd lost our minds.
"Sorry," I said between giggles. "We have a Doc Jones in the town we grew up in. We were just saying how much Whisper Hollow reminds us of home."
"I'll be darned. Small town, huh? Nothing wrong with that," Tim said like we had just declared we were all members of the same secret society. "Would you look at that. She was right. I think my grandkids have remote control cars bigger than that," Tim stated, pulling onto the shoulder of the highway. I was surprised to see our car covered with a blanket of snow that easily was six inches deep. I had no idea the snow had been coming down that hard while we were walking.
"Yeah, it definitely wasn't our first choice, but it was all they had at the airport," Grant replied, climbing from the vehicle. He took the plastic bag with him, saying he would grab the rest of my stuff. I blushed slightly thinking about him seeing the bras and panties I had tried to hide between my sweaters. Hopefully he would leave everything folded and just add it to the bag.
The guys made quick work of grabbing the rest of our things, but by the time Tim turned the truck around, Mother Nature had kicked it up a notch. We were in an all-out blizzard. Even with chains on the tires, Tim had to grip the steering wheel and reduce our speed to a near crawl. We all remained silent so Tim could concentrate on the treacherous conditions. When we finally turned off the highway and drove into the Whisper Hollow town limits, we couldn't have been any more relieved.
"We don't have a hotel here, but our niece runs a real nice bed and breakfast," Tim said, turning down a road a half mile off the exit. The town of Whisper Hollow came into view and the homesickness I had been feeling for Woodfalls returned again. I had fought my mom this year on coming home for Christmas, but at the moment I would do anything to be driving down Main Street in Woodfalls, surrounded by friends and family who all loved me. Instead, I was stuck several states away in a strange town with the last person I would have ever expected to be stranded with.
Whisper Hollow looked to be half the size of Woodfalls, although I'm sure they had their areas that stretched beyond the little town we were driving through. With the blanket of snow covering it, the town resembled something you would see on a Christmas card. Especially since everything was completely decked out for Christmas like the diner had been.
"I'll drop you off here at the B&B first and then send Doc your way," Tim said, pulling behind a large Victorian house with long sweeping porches on the first and second floors. A huge Christmas wreath hung from the highest eve of the house while lighted garland draped the porch railings on both levels.
"Thank you so much. We can't thank you enough," I said to Tim.
"I'm happy to help, darling. Let's get you two inside."
"This is beautiful. Magical," I breathed as Grant opened the truck door and swept me back up into his arms. My eyes met his only to see he was studying me the way he had earlier when he told me I had a snowflake on my nose. I waited for a teasing comment or for him to make some joke since that was his norm, but he did neither. His eyes moved to my lips. Unconsciously, I dragged my bottom lip between my teeth, not wanting to admit how long I had dreamed about what his lips would feel like on mine. I shouldn't want them. He had all but declared that serious relationships weren't for him. Maybe something casual could work. Just this once.
Tim interrupted the moment when he rounded the vehicle carrying our bags. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. With me tucked into his arms, Grant trailed behind Tim as they climbed the four shallow steps to the front porch.
A bell chimed above the front door as Tim pushed it open. The foyer opened up to reveal a large grand staircase that greeted us as we stepped into the warm space that smelled like cinnamon and sugar cookies.
"Uncle Tim, what are you doing out in a storm like this?" a plump, pleasant-looking woman who looked to be in her early thirties asked, stepping into the foyer.
"Hey, Mags. These kind folks here ran into some trouble with the storm. Do you have any rooms available? I know you have that crew here from Georgia who come every year, but I thought maybe you could squeeze 'em in," Tim said, sliding his arms around his niece's shoulder. "Grant and Jamie, this is my niece, Maggie. Or Mags to those of us who watched her grow up from being a peanut. Maggie, this is Grant and Jamie." He finished the introductions with a nod in our direction.
"It's nice to meet you two. I expected to see you earlier after Aunt June called today," she said, reaching out to shake our hands, which was a bit awkward since I was still in Grant's arms. "You're in luck. I had a cancellation on the Washington room," she said, wiping her hands on her Christmas apron that was covered in flour. "Are you on your honeymoon?" she asked, probably wondering why Grant hadn't put me down yet.
Her question was simple enough to answer, but for some reason, it suddenly felt like the white elephant in the room. I dared not look at Grant, afraid of the mocking that was sure to be there. Knowing him, he'd come up with some kind of joke at my expense. To beat him to the punch, I jumped in with the first thing that popped into my head. "Hell no," I all but shouted, hearing myself echo in the small foyer. An uncomfortable silence filled the room and I wouldn't have blamed Grant if he dropped me on my ass.
"I mean, I hurt my ankle," I finally said, finding the rational answer. "That's why my friend Grant is carrying me."
"Oh, you poor thing. Let me show you up to your room," she said, grabbing an old-fashioned looking key off an elegant key rack that hung next to the small reception desk. "Do you want me to call Doc Jones, or are you going to go get him?" she asked Tim.
"I'm going to fetch him. That ole pickup truck of his has been giving him some issues. I keep telling him it's time to drive to the city to get a new model. You know him though. He feels if he fiddles with it a little, it'll be good as new."
"That's Doc for ya. He feels there ain't nothing broken that can't be fixed," Maggie told us with twinkling eyes as she headed for the staircase. "I'll get these two settled in then," she threw over her shoulder.