“No,” I sign.

  We’re both still, waiting for Charlie to take his turn. His head is resting on a pillow which he’s propped on my lap. At first, as I wait for him to respond, I think that he’s being really thoughtful about his guess. But then, as time stretches on, I realize that I’m mistaken. I lean forward, so that I can look down at his face. Yep, his eyes are closed.

  I look over at Harper.

  “Is he sleeping?” she whispers.

  I nod.

  Harper stands. “Well,” she says, “I guess it is pretty late!”

  “It is?” I ask.

  Where did the day go? For the first time, I realize that the hotel management never called me back with details about a red-eye flight. Instead of causing me to anger, as I’d expect, I actually feel just fine about it. I watch Harper stretch, and then begin to gather up some of the dinner items.

  She looks beautiful.

  Maybe being stranded in this hotel isn’t so bad after all.

  “I can clean this up,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks. “I don’t mind helping.”

  “I’m sure,” I say, sliding carefully out from under the pillow. Charlie’s head turns, and for a moment, I think I’ve woken him up. But then he nestles his feet up to his chest, so that he’s in the fetal position, and settles into a deeper sleep.

  I start wrapping cellophane around the turkey, and then twisting a tie around the bag of bread. “It won’t take long,” I say.

  “Okay,” Harper says.

  “See you in the morning?” I ask.

  “You bet,” Harper says.

  She lingers for a moment, and then heads for the staircase. I can’t help but look up and watch as she climbs the stairs and then disappears. I stare at the place where she’s disappeared for just a moment, and then I resume tidying. Once everything’s in a neat pile, I scoop my son up into my arms. As I carry him toward our hotel suite, I find myself genuinely looking forward to the next morning.

  Not because the road might be cleared.

  Quite the opposite, in fact.

  I’m looking forward to seeing Harper again.

  And I think—based on the way she hesitated before departing for her own room—that she’s feeling the same way.

  There’s definitely something between us.

  I can’t wait to find out just what it is.

  Chapter 5

  Harper

  Maybe I’ve judged this guy too harshly.

  He’s funny, smart, kind to his son, and not bad to look at (ahem… understatement of the year). Plus, did I mention he makes a killer breakfast?

  I lift my fork to my lips and bite into the crispy bacon.

  “You really cooked all this?” I ask.

  He grins, and a warm shock runs through me. What is it about this man that makes me feel all tingly and hot under the collar?

  “How did you find everything?” I take a second bite of the perfectly browned meat and survey the many dishes spread out before us.

  Charlie is sitting on the couch between us, just like he was last night. We’re even at the same table, a fact that I find rather funny since there are about fifty empty tables spread out in every direction around us.

  “We went on a little scavenger hunt,” Jason signs.

  “What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a pile of what looks like eggs.

  “Omelet,” Charlie signs. “Have some! I made it!”

  “Wow,” I sign. “I’m impressed.”

  I lean in and look at the dish. The eggs are in lumpy piles, and there’s a few stray bits of orange cheese and green bits of spinach poking out here and there.

  Charlie puffs his chest out, clearly proud of himself. I get a chuckle out of imagining the two of them in the abandoned industrial kitchen, burrowing through fridges and cupboards like a couple of fugitives. I can almost imagine Jason standing at the stove with his son, helping Charlie stir a pile of eggs in a frying pan.

  “True story,” Jason signs. “All by himself.” He’s hiding a smile, and I can see there’s more to the story. “Even when I suggested that it needed to be covered so that the egg could set, my assistant chef here decided to give it a nice stirring. Keep everything in there moving. Right, Charlie?”

  Charlie nods. “I stirred it a lot.”

  “It looks beautiful,” I sign. I make a big show of helping myself to a scoop of the scrambled concoction.

  Charlie watches me, beaming.

  “Mmmm!” I lick my lips after the first bite.

  Jason’s laughing behind his napkin.

  The lobby is dimly lit and the sun has yet to peek over the mountains, even though it’s gone eight o’clock, nearing nine. But as I eat the omelet—which is actually quite tasty—and polish off the bacon on my plate, sunlight starts to pool through some of the east-facing windows. It’s bright enough to catch all of our attention, and Charlie even runs over and sits in a square of light, like he’s a cat taking a sunbath.

  “Must be clearing up out there,” I say softly.

  I don’t want it to clear up. I want to be stuck in this cozy winter wonderland for a few more days, at least. I can’t quite hide the disappointment in my voice, and I think Jason picks up on it.

  He’s very perceptive, this man. There were plenty of moments, the night before, when I could tell that there was much more passing between us than simply the friendly conversation. Beyond the words, I feel the unmistakable pull of attraction. Even more thrilling than that is the fact that I can tell he’s feeling it too.

  He’s always watching me. Not in a creepy way—in a good way. In a way that makes me feel beautiful.

  The dating scene in my hometown is rather pathetic, and I’ve pretty much given up on it, to be honest. But this—this sense of mutual, unspoken attraction—has me savoring every look that passes between us. It’s more delicious than the feast spread out before us.

  It’s fun. And that’s exactly what I was looking for, with this vacation, wasn’t it? It seems that the universe has delivered.

  But the sunlight outside is so bright, it makes me feel that the storm must have completely passed over us.

  Is all of the fun over?

  So soon?

  I feel Jason’s eyes on me. “I haven’t heard from management again,” he says, as if he’s picking up on my train of thought. “I tried calling my contact back last night, but he didn’t pick up. Full voicemail too. This must be a guest-services nightmare. But maybe he’ll call today, and we’ll at least get an update about the road conditions.”

  “That would be nice,” I say, because I feel that I have to.

  Charlie skips over to us.

  “Dad, Dad!” he signs. “Let’s show Harper how to make a giant snowman with your three-on-the-bottom trick!”

  “Three on the bottom?” I sign.

  “It’s all about the foundation,” Charlie signs, his face serious. “My dad went to engineering school. He’s the best snowman-builder this side of the Mississippi.”

  “Wait just a minute. I thought we were in Switzerland!” I sign.

  Charlie looks confused, and glances up at his dad, who signs, “I don’t like to brag, but I am the best snowman-builder on this side of the Swiss Alps.”

  “How does an engineer build a snowman?” I ask.

  “The special, secret method!” Charlie signs. “Dad, can we show her?”

  Jason pretends to take his son’s request super seriously. He rolls his eyes upwards and taps a finger against his chin. “Okay. We can invite Harper into the giant snowman club. If she thinks she’s ready.”

  “I don’t know,” I tease. “I didn’t go to engineering school myself.”

  “The part with the fulcrum and the lever might be a bit over your head,” Jason signs.

  I swat at his shoulder and he dodges away from me. Charlie laughs, just as Jason’s phone rings. The sound blasts through our quiet surroundings, and echoes off of the marble walls.

  For a minute, I think it might be the hotel manager, and I feel disappointed. What if they’re sending a shuttle now, and we’re going to have to leave? I don’t want to leave. But as soon as Jason starts talking, I can tell it’s a work call.

  “Hey, Pete. Yeah, still here. No word yet on the roads. Yeah, I guess we’re going to have to. He’s not going to like it. I know, I know, he’s on a tight timeline. Just let me…” Jason pivots and walks away from us, and his voice fades slightly.

  I take the opportunity to ask Charlie a few questions. The question I really want to ask, however, I keep bottled up inside. Where is Charlie’s mother? Are she and Jason divorced? When? Why? There’s no way I’m going to ask a six-year-old questions about such a sensitive subject. I stick to a safe topic instead.

  It’s easy to open up the discussion, because Charlie rolls his eyes and signs: “Dad’s always on the phone.”

  “What does he do?” I ask.

  “He invented steel,” Charlie says. “And he uses it to put up really strong buildings, that don’t fall down in hurricanes or earthquakes.”

  Well, that’s what I get for using a six-year-old as a source of information. Though history’s always been one of my weakest subjects, I’m pretty sure modern steel has been around since the 17th century, and Jason definitely doesn’t look like he’s over four hundred years old.

  “Okay,” I sign. “Does he work for a company?”

  Charlie nods. “It’s his company. He started it. Rayne or Shine Steel. That’s our last name—Raynes,” Charlie finger-spells it out to me.

  Raynes… Rayne or Shine Steel! Holy crap. Of course I know Rayne or Shine Steel—the stuff is everywhere. Almost every modern building is built with it these days. And Jason invented it!

  Jason approaches us before I can dig any further. I eye him with new respect. He’s a titan of industry—a household name. If I can believe his son, Jason’s product has saved countless lives—Rayne or Shine Steel is known to keep buildings upright during all kinds of natural disasters, when in the past they would have crumbled to the ground. As I realize this, I start to resent his wealth a little bit less. Maybe wealthy people aren’t all selfish and greedy. Maybe he is providing a valuable service to others.

  Jason looks back and forth between Charlie and me. “What did I miss?” he asks.

  Before I can chime in, Charlie answers. “Harper didn’t know that you invented steel.”

  Jason laughs. “A type of steel, buddy. Not all steel.” He glances at me, and his look is almost a bit self-conscious. As if he’s embarrassed to admit that he’s such a big name.

  “Rayne or Shine Steel…” I sign. “That’s you?”

  Jason nods. “That’s me,” he signs.

  Charlie scampers off, bored with our conversation. He runs back to the square of light playing on the fur rugs from the window and starts doing somersaults through it.

  “Sorry about the phone call,” Jason says.

  “Was it about your meeting?”

  “That was my VP of sales. I had to cancel the meeting, and the deal might fall through.”

  “I see…” I say. “What is it that your company does, exactly?”

  “We sell steel products to construction firms, but we also develop commercial land. So I’m part inventor, part realtor. I realized early on that selling the steel itself wasn’t going to be enough. We had the capital to actually construct the buildings, so…” he stops himself, and shakes his head. “Sorry. I won’t bore you with work stuff.”

  “It’s not boring,” I say, and I’m surprised to find that I mean it.

  For a minute, we’re looking at each other again, in that way that makes my heart flutter and my palms sweat.

  Then his phone rings, blaring out a tone so loud that it makes me jump.

  Jason answers. “Pete. What did he say?” He walks away from me, and I’m left standing alone, thinking about what I’ve just learned.

  Jason Raynes…of Rayne or Shine Steel. Wow.

  I begin tidying up breakfast while I’m mentally recalling what I can about the company. I’ve heard countless stories about how the buildings have held up in major weather events of the past few years—hurricanes, earthquakes, and tropical storms, to list a few. I’m almost through with my tidying when Jason returns.

  At almost the same instant, Charlie scampers over. “Let’s go!” he signs.

  “Snowman time?” I ask.

  “Yeah!”

  I reach for my jacket, which I’ve brought down from my room with me. Jason returns and the two of them start bundling up too, in jackets and ski pants. Jason fits a hat over Charlie’s messy hair, and then hands him his mittens and a scarf.

  “There’s one more thing we need before we start Operation Snowman,” Jason signs.

  “What, Dad?” Charlie asks.

  I find that I’m curious too.

  “It’s in the kitchen,” Jason says, mysteriously. I think I know what he’s getting at. A carrot! I’m just leaning down to extinguish the gas fire pit via a switch near the base of the table. The flames, and Jason’s hint at the carrot, make me think.

  What else does a snowman need? Coals of course!

  But the gas fire pit is made with fake wood, not coals, so I traipse along behind Jason and Charlie, keeping my idea to myself.

  Once in the kitchen, Jason flips on a light switch, and heads over toward a wall half covered with stainless steel refrigeration units. Charlie’s close at his heels, eager to see what his father might be getting.

  A grill catches my eye, in the corner of the kitchen. I walk toward it, and see that it’s filled with perfect black coals! I search the countertops for plastic wrap, and quickly scoop a few coals up, wrap them up, and tuck them in my pocket. These guys think they’re such snowman experts—it would be fun to have a trick or two up my own sleeve.

  Jason and Charlie pick out the perfect carrot, and we’re all heading toward the hotel’s exit when Jason’s phone rings once again.

  Without hesitation, he answers.

  I’m just a little bit offended. He’s not even interested in screening his calls? Why is he so eager to talk with his office? Are we that insignificant? If his calls make me feel hurt—and I barely know the guy—I can only imagine how they make his son feel.

  I feel sorry for Charlie as Jason waves us forward, holding the phone away from his mouth momentarily, “You guys go on ahead, I’ve got to take this.”

  Without waiting for our reply, he pivots and walks away from us.

  Charlie and I just stand still for a moment, reeling. I don’t want Charlie to feel hurt, so I try to get him excited again.

  “Ready, buddy?” I sign, using the nickname that I’ve seen his dad use. Charlie seems to like that.

  I lean down and fix Charlie’s scarf, tucking the ends in so that it won’t unravel, and then I make a show of pushing on the doors.

  “They’re too heavy!” I sign playfully. Charlie seems to know I’m faking it, but his smile is even brighter now, so I keep up my act. “I need your help!”

  Still grinning, Charlie stands at my side, and pushes on the massive doors with a heroic effort. I see his little arms straining with the effort, and I give a gentle push too, until the doors are swinging open.

  Bright sunlight greets us, almost blinding me at first. We’ve spent so long in the dimly lit hotel! I hold my hand up to my brow to shield my eyes.

  Everywhere I look is white. The storm must have delivered at least two feet of snow—maybe more. A blanket of the white stuff covers everything in sight, including the road and walkways that were visible just the day before. Now, instead of a village scene in front of the hotel, it feels like we’re in rural countryside, looking out over a vast meadow at the foot of the Alps.

  The mountains spike upwards, just across the way, filling me with the same wonder that I experienced when I first arrived.

  I look down and see Charlie gazing up at the rocky giants in front of us, clearly filled with just as much awe as I am.

  As I’m looking down at him, he turns his head, and meets my gaze. I’m filled with a warm and fuzzy feeling. It seems that both of the Raynes men have some kind of a power over me.

  Charlie’s adorable little face is barely visible between his scarf and his hat, which is pulled low over his brow. But I can see enough of his face to see that his eyes are dancing with happiness and delight, and that makes me feel happy too. He reaches up, and I feel his little mitten-covered hand bump into mine. He curls his palm against my glove, until we’re holding hands. It’s the sweetest, cutest gesture ever, and my already melting heart turns into a full-blown puddle.

  “Come on, Harper!” he signs.

  He pulls me forward, his little hand tugging against mine. Together, we head forward into the sea of white. I feel like I’m a child again, on a snow day from school.

  I don’t want this snow day to end.

  Ever.

  Chapter 6

  Harper

  Charlie’s little hand pulls on mine as he leads me down the front steps. We wade into the snow, plowing our legs through it wildly. It’s fresh, powdery, and made of large, dense flakes—perfect snowball snow. It’s hard to move through, and I give a whoop of joy as I try to lift my knees as high as I can to keep my forward momentum.

  We’ve made it across the street and out to a wide-open field when I feel something hit my back. It thuds against my jacket. A snowball! Another one sails overhead, just missing Charlie.

  Charlie lets go of my hand, turning around with a look of glee on his face. He knows just who threw that snowball, and he’s as happy as I am about it.

  Jason has joined us.

  I lose track of time as we engage in an epic snowball battle—Charlie and me against Jason—and then build the biggest snowman that I’ve ever seen. I laughed at the idea of the “three on the bottom” method, but seriously, these two have taken snowman building to a whole new level.

  The foundation of our giant construction is composed of three snowballs, which we meld together with “supporting cement snow”, as Jason calls it. Using a lever made out of a piece of wood that Jason finds near the ski lifts just across the field, we roll a massive snowball on top of the foundation, and then Charlie sits on Jason’s shoulders to fasten on the head.