Chapter Three
Snowfall couldn’t cover disappointment with its bitter white strokes, but Autumn wished it did. She wished snow had the magic power to camouflage all her mistakes for the past two years just by dousing her poor choices in its sparkling beauty.
She pulled the plaid wool blanket around her shoulders and leaned against the porch railing of her home, a home that had been in her family for generations. And it showed. The house had been a beauty once and had operated as a ski lodge for a long time, but over the years of harsh winters and strong summer days, hand in glove with a pinch of neglect, the house wore a coat more forlorn than vibrant.
Falling snow pricked the dingy night with its white crystals. Warm lights from the Ryker Ranch reflected through the trees with a glittering luster. So close and yet so far. The Rykers had done it right. They had each other. She envied the Rykers their success and their close-knit family. She had no one to help her any longer, not since her husband Trent had died.
She could still feel the pressure of Jett’s torso against hers when they collided earlier today. He didn’t have an ounce of body fat thanks to his days of moving hay, raking the stables, horseback riding, and all the other things he did to keep his ranch up and running. She was terribly aware of how manly he was and wished she could wipe that awareness away as if it were nothing more than snow on a windshield.
Snow drifted down in fat, round flakes that could taunt the most wicked tongues. Cold wind whipped around her, tugging away the warmth of the blanket, but still she stayed put on the porch. Lingering outside in the elements kept problems crystal clear, no being lulled by the warmth of the fire burning inside. It also gave her an excuse to watch Jett’s ranch.
She was out of options for her land, unless she found a buyer who could pull her from under the mortgage and maybe keep a few acres for her and her daughter Quinn. She didn’t want a buyer coming here and taking what belonged to her daughter. Autumn had failed Quinn in the worst way.
She had also failed her family. Five generations had lived here. Her ancestors had driven through the plains on horses and with wagons to find a place to settle. They picked this spot, and then in the early nineteen hundreds, her great-grandparents turned their land into a ski area.
Each generation struggled harder to stay open as resorts popped up in many states, making competition fierce. None of her relatives wanted to expand. After her father left, her mother passed the land to Autumn. Vera was tired of owning and running the ski area. Her divorce had done her in. She handed Autumn the keys to the kingdom, failing as it was, without so much as a second glance.
Autumn ran it until she met Trent and married him. They’d operated the place together, but Trent had used the land as collateral in an unsanctioned poker game, causing them so much debt they had borrowed against the equity to pay off his mistakes.
She descended the front steps and headed in the direction of the Ryker Ranch. Something tugged her as if an unseeable force controlled her motions. Unseeable force nothing. It was the accidental meeting with Jett today. Well, the accidental contact. That was what had her so riled up. What called to her was the need to feel warm again, to feel like she belonged somewhere and wasn’t so alone. What stopped her from hiking through the trees and up to his front door was bitterness.
Such an ugly emotion. Autumn brushed a snowflake from her cheek. She had made her choices. Slept in her proverbial bed. She hadn’t fought for what she wanted. She had no one to blame but herself.
That didn’t stop her from wondering what Jett Ryker was up to right now. She had been thinking of him all day.
How many guests had he charmed with his slow smile and flannel-clad shoulders today? How many ladies had he had in his bed all these years? A lot, according to the gossip on the small streets of Backwater. Jett had never settled down. He loved his ranch more than he loved anything else, including her. But that had been a long time ago and better forgotten. Most days she forgot just fine.
But today she’d been told she would lose her land, her ski area, and very possibly that worn-out house with its finicky heat she called a home. So, tonight, walking in the snow that came up to her shins, she rewarded herself with five minutes of self-pity and a drift down memory lane. Or more like a moment to fantasize what life would have been like if she had been able to lasso that rancher for good.
“Autumn, what in the world are you doing all the way down there?” Her mother’s shrill voice carried to her on the blast of freezing wind ripping the blanket from her grip.
With all the acres that had belonged to her family, they had decided to build their home at the bottom of the small mountain and near the edge of the property line. She wished they had been more creative and not butted up near the Ryker Ranch. The proximity allowed her mother to stand on the porch, bundled in her parka, and holler to her. Had the house been anywhere else, her mother’s shouts would have fallen on the deaf ears of the wind.
Autumn didn’t have the kind of mother portrayed in sweet Christmas movies who always understood and put her children’s needs ahead of her own. Her mother was a bad version of the wicked stepmother.
“I’m walking in the snow.” She doubted her mother could hear her response. She wasn’t about to scream it back. Anyone could be in earshot on the other side of those trees and wondering what she was doing at this hour. Voices carried as easily as the snow when the wind took hold.
She retrieved the blanket from the ground and made her way back. Her mother pulled the sides of her coat closed. Using the zipper seemed like too much of an effort. Not that Autumn would bother to point it out.
“I was looking for you. The heat isn’t working right,” Vera Thatcher said, shivering.
Autumn assumed the visceral reaction was probably for added effect. Her mother was prone to dramatics, whether verbal or visual. Vera would employ any tactic necessary to manipulate her way.
Her mother was a petite woman, barely passing the tape measure at five feet. But her ability to find something wrong could reach the top of a hundred-year-old oak tree. Vera still dyed her hair a chestnut brown because she was vain, and she didn’t like leaving the house without makeup.
“You shouldn’t be out here. It’s too cold.” Autumn climbed the creaking steps and stood before her mother.
“I’m only out here because that’s where I found you. Why are you wandering around the yard late at night anyway? And what could you be looking for in that direction? There’s nothing over there except that awful ranch with its noisy guests.” Vera spit her words out as if every syllable tasted like poison.
“I’ll throw another log on the fire.” She would not explain the magnetic pull that could not be fought sometimes. She didn’t want to talk to anyone at the ranch or even have anyone see her, but being close to the warmth that exuded from the Rykers turned her into that moth burning up in the flame. Her and Jett’s flame had been hot once.
“When are you going to get the heater fixed?” Vera followed her inside. Her slippers clomped against the wood as she shuffled behind.
“When I can afford it. Until then, the wood-burning stove will do.” The warmth from the stove made it up the stairs, but once the bedroom doors were closed, the rooms cooled down. By morning, she swore she could see her breath.
She needed to fix the ski lift again too. The parts were old. She couldn’t risk running it and having another accident. Her money was best used there. A working lift meant money. Fixing it also meant money. Money she didn’t have.
“You could ask Jay Henry for some help. He’s been sweet on you for years, and he’s handy.” Vera hung her coat on the hook by the door.
“No, thank you.” Jay was the plumber who could fix the heater, and if she had the extra cash, she would call him. But taking it out in any kind of trade was out of the question. She wasn’t interested in Jay Henry in any way.
She was done with men for now. She had a daughter to finish raising and a business to save. The next time around she wanted the kind of love in those movies with the perfect mother. She wanted the man who made her head spin when he kissed her. But she wasn’t sure anyone could have that twice. And she’d had it once. A long time ago with Jett. She doubted he had ever felt the same way.
“I’m just saying that Jay could get the heater to be consistent and we wouldn’t freeze all the time.”
“Mom, go to bed. It’s late. You need your rest, and so do I. I have a group coming for some cross-country skiing.” This conversation was over, at least for her. She wanted to climb into her bed, put on the electric blanket, and snuggle so far down into the mattress it would take a week to come out.
Her phone buzzed from the back pocket of her jeans. Any call at this hour probably involved an emergency room. Though she couldn’t think of a soul who would call for her. Over the past two years, she had spent so much time trying to keep her head above water that each of her friends drifted away. Not that she had many to begin with. She didn’t blame anyone. Her life was a reminder that things could go from bad to worse if she wasn’t careful. And it might be contagious.
“Who could that be at this hour?” Vera echoed her thoughts.
She dug out the phone and stared at the screen. The number was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “Hello?”
“Autumn, It’s Dottie Lucier. I’m sorry to have called so late. But this couldn’t wait until morning. I have fantastic news. You have someone who wants to buy your land. The house, the lift, everything. It’s a fair offer.” Dottie’s voice tinkled like chimes.
“I haven’t put my property up for sale yet.” The meeting with George Smith still burned like a fresh wound. She hadn’t accepted yet that she had to sell everything. With thirty days to come up with the money, she wanted to wait for the impossible—some kind of miracle.
“Oh, I realize that. Paperwork is just a technicality. George from the bank called me today and told me to keep an eye out just in case. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to find someone today. I just had to call to tell you. You can come to my office tomorrow, and we’ll get everything settled.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
Vera looked up with her eyebrows pushing into her hairline.
“I’m not prepared to sell at this time. Please tell your buyer you made a mistake.”
“Are you sure? This will take care of all your problems.”
“Will it?” She doubted selling her land would result in solving anything except the money problems. Quinn’s future had to be considered. If Autumn could find a way to keep her property so Quinn could inherit it, then she had to take that risk. Quinn deserved to have what was rightfully hers.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you are out of options, sweetie. Why not agree to sell and enjoy your next adventure? We won’t close for thirty days, and I will make sure to find you a suitable home right here in Backwater,” Dottie said.
“No, thank you. Good night.” She ended the call before she wavered or Dottie said another thing.
“Are you crazy not taking an offer on the land? You don’t even have it up for sale, and a buyer drops into your lap? It’s no wonder you ran this business into the ground and ran out of money. You have no idea what you’re doing.” Vera’s petulant expression turned a few shades of red, and Autumn’s stomach soured.
Vera never missed an opportunity to point out where Autumn had gone wrong. Any choice Autumn made, Vera was quick to state she would have done it differently.
“Good night, Mom.” She brushed past Vera. She needed the safety of her bedroom, the one place she could lock out the rest of the world.
“Why aren’t you taking it?”
“I’m going to bed. Please do the same.” She had no desire to discuss this topic with her mother and definitely not at this hour. She was never at her best when her body ached with fatigue deep in her bones.
Dottie had been trying to help with her late-night ecstatic call, but Autumn knew how much Dottie stood to make in commission on the sale. Dottie didn’t care if Autumn and Quinn had to move. In fact, their moving served Dottie better. She would make money on both the sale and the property Autumn purchased or rented, as the case might be.
For once, Vera heeded her words. Her slippers continued the plod and slog over the uneven hardwood floors downstairs as her mother went down the hall to her own bedroom and closed the door.
Autumn released a huge sigh of relief and allowed her shoulders to drop for the first time all day. She would catch a few hours of sleep, and in the morning she would decide what to do. She did have to consider a buyer at some point. Now was just too soon.
She peeked into Quinn’s room. The familiar smell of sweet baby powder and old books whispered to her. Her daughter was tangled in her sheets. Quinn had been a restless sleeper since her days in the womb. Autumn absently rubbed her stomach. That time seemed like an eternity ago and like yesterday all at once.
The room was a mess with folded clothes piled on top of her dresser. She had told Quinn a hundred times to put them in the drawers. Her ski parka hung over the back of the chair near the desk. The top of the desk couldn’t be seen under all the books, some open, some stacked. Quinn’s discarded ski helmet cluttered the corner along with mismatched gloves, wool socks, and the random plastic water bottle.
She hoped the day would not come when she had to pull Quinn off the local ski team because she couldn’t afford that either. Skiing could be Quinn’s way to get a college scholarship.
Autumn stepped into the room and grabbed the picture of Quinn and Trent from the side table. They stood on the ski slope, holding their poles in one hand and making a thumbs-up in the other. Their smiles could light up the Montana sky at night.
Life had disappointed Quinn too many times in her young fourteen years. She had lost her father at twelve, her grandmother should come with a warning label, and she was about to lose her home.
Putting the picture back with one hand, Autumn wiped the tear from her cheek with the other, then went into her own room. She wouldn’t be able to give Quinn her legacy, because of too many bad decisions made through the years.
“I’m sorry.” She closed the door, then climbed into bed. Sleep would not come.