Yes, her husband of fifteen years had cheated on her. Yes, she was broke. But, today, all she saw were possibilities. The possibility of running a business with one of her best friends. The endless combinations of recipes she could play with for the menu, and even though part of her was afraid to admit it, the possibility of getting to kiss Josh Johnson, to feel the brush of his beard on her face, his hands on her waist.

  She realized that she had been in a rut with Alex, that she hadn’t felt a fire in her belly to do anything for a while, but now, she felt like she could take on the world, and leave that cheating son of a bitch in her wake.

  She padded into the kitchen and saw Charlotte poring over the café’s drawing while she scrolled through the city’s real estate listings on her computer and talked on the phone to a client. Always the multi-tasker.

  Megan poured herself a cup of coffee and perched on one of the wooden barstools beside Charlotte. Charlotte smiled at her and raised one finger, signaling that she would be off the phone in a minute. Megan looked out the window at the gently falling snow and felt at peace. Maybe there was a bit of a small-town girl in her after all.

  “Morning, Sunshine. You’re up early today,” Charlotte said as she ended her call.

  “I wanted to get up and experiment with some recipes before I head into the café. Has the designer sent all the paint colors? The drywallers are starting today and I want to make sure the painters have everything they need to get started.”

  Charlotte smiled at Megan.

  “What?” Megan looked at her quizzically.

  “Just proud of you, that’s all. A new woman walked down those stairs and into my kitchen. And I really like her.” Charlotte took a sip of her coffee and then quickly added, “Not like I didn’t like the other Megan. This is like Megan version 2.0. More powerful and focused.”

  “I have you to thank,” Megan jumped off the stool and started pulling baking ingredients out of the cupboards. “I can’t believe that you trusted me with this project.”

  “I knew that you could do it.”

  “Well, with you behind the curtain, it certainly helped. I do feel a little guilty misleading everyone about my involvement here.”

  Charlotte shuffled all her listing paperwork into a pile. “If things keep going, you’re going to BE part owner of The Sugar Peak Café, and then you won’t be lying to anyone.

  “Well, Josh thinks that I own this house.”

  “This house?” Charlotte pressed her pointer finger into the marble island.

  “He just assumed, and I didn’t correct him,” Megan said, and she tied her hair up into a ponytail. “Now I don’t know how I’m going to tell him.”

  “I don’t think that he’ll care. I saw the way he looked at you when you jumped into the car last night. It looks like I might have interrupted a moment there.”

  “Actually, you didn’t, Freddie did.”

  “Freddie who?” Charlotte leaned onto the table, her eyes steeled on Megan.

  Charlotte measured out some flour and dumped it into a large steel mixing bowl. “Freddie Brush.”

  “That was Freddie Brush? The guy standing with you and Josh, the one in the blue hat?”

  “Yeah, he’s a little rough around the edges, but he seems like a good kid. Can I use these eggs?” Megan asked as she pulled a dozen free range eggs from the massive refrigerator.

  “Did he see me?”

  “I don’t know. It was dark and snowing pretty hard. Why, do you know him? He’s a lot younger than you are.”

  “I knew his brother.”

  “Oh, Logan?” Megan separated the egg yolks from the whites into two small bowls and set them aside on the counter. “Did you know that he plays professional hockey?”

  “I heard that,” Charlotte murmured. “Meg. I don’t want to tell you who to hang out with, but that Logan Brush is an asshole with a capital A, and I’m sure his brother is cut from the same cloth.”

  “Char, when was the last time you saw any of these people from high school? People change you know. You did.” Meg pointed at Charlotte with the flour covered wooden spoon.

  “I’ll give Freddie a pass, but I’ll never forgive Logan for what he did.”

  Megan stirred the mixture together and waited for Charlotte to continue, which she didn’t.

  “And, are you going to tell me what he did?”

  Charlotte seemed lost in another world, her eyes glassy as she stared out the window.

  “Char.”

  “Oh, what, sorry.” Charlotte snapped her gaze from the window and began flipping through her real estate listings. “No, that’s a long story for when we’ve got a few bottles of wine in front of us. Not a sunrise conversation.” Charlotte picked up her phone and started typing feverishly and then paused abruptly. “Megan, do me a favor, please.”

  “Anything.”

  “You can’t let Freddie know who I am. I’m just not ready yet.”

  “Okay. But you are going to have to help me figure out how to explain to Josh that I’m not a rich real estate developer.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Charlotte murmured but seemed distracted.

  The oven beeped as it reached its temperature and Megan slid the test batch of cookies in and started the timer. “I’m interviewing front of house staff today. Do you want to have any input on the resumes?”

  “Nope. I trust your instincts. Sugar Peaks Café is your baby. I’ve got to go back to the city for a listing presentation for a mid-town Brownstone. I should be back for the weekend. We can talk about everything then.”

  That reminded Megan. “Oh, yes. There’s something else I want to talk to you about – a potential business venture. A brewpub.”

  “Ooh. On trend. I can’t wait to hear all about it. And those smell delicious. I hope that they’re on the menu.” Charlotte gave Megan a hug, grabbed her handbag and was out the door.

  Megan checked the timer for the cookies and went to take a quick shower. She had a long day and night ahead of her.

  * * *

  Armed with freshly baked cookies and meringue tarts, Megan pulled up in front of the Sugar Peaks Café. The wrought iron sign she and Charlotte had picked out was being installed, and she walked into a flurry of activity inside. The drywall boards were all screwed on and the guys were mudding and taping. The appliances had been delivered and were sitting in the kitchen area under plastic to protect them from the construction dust. Boxes of hardwood flooring littered the floor. Charlotte had told her that it had to be onsite ahead of time to acclimatize to the humidity inside the shop.

  “Those smell delicious.”

  Megan recognized the voice behind her and the hair on her arms stood up as her body sensed how close J.J. was behind her. “The meringues are going to be Sugar Peak’s Café’s signature dessert.”

  “How appropriate, they look like little mountain peaks.”

  “By design,” Megan said and blushed. “Try one.”

  Josh picked up one of the tarts and took a bite. “I think I just melted. Guys, you’ve gotta try these. Do you mind?” Josh asked Megan.

  “Not at all, I brought them for everyone to sample.”

  Josh took the plastic tub from Megan and the drywallers flocked around like seagulls. Murmurs of appreciation rippled through the room and Megan felt her chest swell with pride.

  “As soon as you’re ready for the tables and benches I’ll be able to bring them in in pieces and assemble them for you. I just have a few finishing touches to do today,” Josh said and reached for another tart.

  “That’s amazing. I can’t wait to see them in here.”

  “Are we still on for cross country skiing tonight?”

  “I was um, hoping you’d forgotten about that.” Megan grinned at Josh.

  He smiled back, “Not a chance girl. You’re skiing or swimming tonight, and I think you already made your choice.”

  “Alright, alright.” Megan couldn’t resist matching his smile. “What should I wear?”

  Josh leaned in so close to Megan that she could feel his breath tickling her earlobe. “Your sexiest long underwear and snow pants.”

  “Is that even a thing? Sexy long underwear?” she whispered back.

  “Only if it’s on you.” Josh turned and walked away. “Good work, boys,” he shouted at the team of drywallers as he stepped out the front door.

  Megan spent the rest of her day interviewing staff. She was glad to have something to keep her occupied, otherwise she would’ve spent the day obsessing over what long underwear to wear, and how afraid she was of setting foot on skis.

  Eighteen

  Josh looked around his garage; his climbing gear sat unused in rubber bins, but instead of layers of snow, his powder skis had layers of dust on them. His mountain snowmobile sat under its cover, where it had slept for the past five years.

  He trailed his fingertips over the line of skis in the hand-carved wooden rack – ten pairs in total, but only five were his. The shorter, pink versions, Erica’s. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to get rid of her gear, he’d even waxed them the first year after her death, thinking that somehow, she’d walk through the front door, ready to head to the mountain and ski some fresh lines with him.

  She had been one of the best skiers in town, and when he moved to Chance Rapids to be with her, she made it clear that skiing was her passion, and if he wanted to spend time with her once the snow flew, he was going to have to be able to keep up.

  He pulled out his classic Nordic skis and boots, and only hesitated for a moment before pulling Erica’s off the rack.

  “Come on Timber,” he shouted and pointed to the truck. Timber whined excitedly when he saw the skis being loaded into the cab.

  He knocked rapidly on Megan’s door, the rhythm of his knock mirroring that of his heartbeat. The door opened, her huge grin welcoming him. He took a quick glance up and down: she looked amazing, every bit of her a mountain girl.

  “For someone who doesn’t ski, you certainly have all the right gear, or did you go out and buy all that Gore-Tex today?”

  Megan ran her hands down the front of her expensive pink coat. “What, this old thing?”

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. As long as we don’t have to climb any cliffs or anything,” she added.

  “Nah, the ice-climbing is the date. I mean, um, small town lesson number three,” he stammered.

  Megan pulled a matching pink hat with fur pom-pom onto her head, “Do I need anything else?” she asked.

  “Nope, just made sure you’re warm enough. I’ve got everything else covered,” he said, handing her a headlamp.

  She looked at him quizzically and reached out to take the headlamp from him. She stretched the elastic around her hat and pushed the button, the small LED light shone to life, temporarily blinding Josh. He reached out and clicked off the light. “You don’t need to turn it on just yet, and when you have it on, don’t look me in the eyes when you talk to me.” He knew that he was saving his eyeballs from temporary blindness, and his heart, from the racing that happened when her green eyes met his.

  “Oh, ok. Sorry about that,” she giggled.

  “I’ll let you get away with it this once.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, as the two of them walked side by side down the pathway to the truck. Josh opened the door and Megan grabbed the handle to hoist herself into the cab, his nubby winter tires made the truck taller than any Megan had ever been in.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said and closed the door. Timber stood on the center console and gave Megan a sniff and lick on the nose.

  Josh hopped in the driver’s seat and put the truck into gear. He noticed Megan rubbing her gloved hands together and turned up the heat. “Just so you know, after you left the job site today, Brian was able to get most of the ductwork installed, and he will be able to finish up the job tomorrow.”

  “That’s amazing,” Megan replied.

  “But we talked about work enough this afternoon, I think tonight we should just focus on your lessons to help you become a real Chance Rapids local.”

  “A local? Is that even possible? You are a pretty tight-knit group here. From what I have seen, if your parents weren’t born here, you will always be an outsider.”

  Josh laughed. “You’re not far off. I’ve been here almost fifteen years and some of the old-timers still consider me an outsider.”

  The headlights from the truck shone on a small back road, there were about 5 inches of fresh snow, and the tracks their truck left were the only ones on the road. “Is this where you whisk me off to a cabin to hold me captive before you murder me?”

  “Exactly.” Josh grinned. “But because of the massive snow storm headed our way, I’ll be forced to spend days with you in front of the fire. And, are you familiar with Stockholm syndrome? Because that’s going to happen for sure.”

  Megan’s face flushed. “I think I am.”

  Josh could’ve kicked himself. Sometimes he wondered why he couldn’t think faster than his mouth could speak. “Well, it sounds like you’ve seen too many movies. There will be no kidnapping. No murder. And no falling in love with your captor tonight.” Shit, he did it again.

  He saw Megan’s breath hitch, and then she turned to him, “That’s too bad. Murder and kidnapping aside, that sounds like a nice evening.”

  “How about we just start with a little cross-country skiing.”

  He pulled off the side of the road beside the Arrowheart trail sign.

  “What. Here? There’s nothing here.” Megan leaned forward examining the trailhead.

  “There are a lot of things here, you just have to know where to look.” He put the truck in park and jogged around to open the door for Megan, but she had already hopped out of the truck.

  “The trail was groomed today; you can see the parallel dips in the fresh snow.” He pointed to the barely perceptible trail. He opened the tailgate and pulled the skis out of the back and stuck them in the snow. “Have a seat.” He patted the tailgate. Megan hopped up and kicked her feet in the air like a five-year-old on a chair meant for an adult. “What size are your feet?”

  “Seven.”

  Erica’s had been seven and a half. “Perfect, put on these socks.” He pulled out a pair of thin wool socks from his pocket.

  “Ooh, freshly warmed.” She unfolded them and rolled them over top of her other socks. He loosened the laces on the boots and slipped one onto Megan’s foot, holding her thin calf in his hand. He felt Megan stiffen with his touch and then exhale like she had been holding her breath. He stepped back, his hands up, “I’m sorry about that, I’m sure you can put on your own ski boots.”

  “It’s okay,” Megan smiled. “Nothing wrong with playing Cinderella every once in a while.”

  “Does that make me Prince Charming?” he replied, finishing up the laces on her boot before reaching for the second one. He blew on his fingers to warm them up and rubbed his hands together. It was one of the coldest nights so far that winter.

  “I suppose it does.”

  Josh patted the side of her foot and then hopped up onto the tailgate beside her. The cold metal permeated through his snow pants and thermal underwear. He pulled on his boots as quickly as he could and hopped off. He held out his hand for Megan. She took it and hopped down into the snow beside them. “Barring a snowstorm, or random cabin, I should have you back before midnight.” He set the skis down in the snow and handed Megan a set of poles. “You’ve never done this before?”

  “Never,” Megan replied, shrugging her shoulders. “But I have used the ski machine at the gym, does that count?”

  “Actually, it does,” Josh chuckled. He knelt in the snow to hold Megan’s foot and guided her boot to the binding, “Just press that metal piece into the binding here, you should hear it click in.” Megan clicked in her boot and lifted her other foot to click into the second ski, not taking into account that the first ski was now ready to slide. The ski shot forward, and she was airborne for a brief second. “Eeeeee,” she squealed. Her poles went flying and her arms flailed, catching Josh’s back before she landed ass first into the snow. She paused, her face was inches from Josh’s neck and he could feel the warmth from her breath radiate down his collar. She let out a nervous giggle. He stood up, her hands sliding down from his back. He reached out his hand to help her up. She took it and he had to use all his might to manhandle her up off the ground, the lone ski insistent on starting its journey, making it tough for her inexperienced foot to make contact with the ground. When she did, she set her foot down beside the groomed trail and sank down to her crotch in the deep snow.

  “Is this a sign?” she gasped, exasperated.

  “A sign of what?” Josh asked.

  “That I should get back into the car and burn Charlotte’s snow pants?”

  So that’s where they came from. He wondered why she just hadn’t told him that she was wearing her friend’s clothes.

  “It’s a sign that you should let me help you put on the other ski, and now we have a good idea of how deep the snowpack is beside the trail.” He muscled Megan’s post-holed leg out of the snow. He grabbed her boot and stuck it into the second binding and handed her the ski poles. “You put the straps around your wrists like this.” He slid his own straps over his gloves and clicked into his skis. “Now, follow me, push with your poles to get started, and then pretend that you are on the machine at the gym.”

  Josh planted his poles into the snow and slid off down the trail. He took a few strides to illustrate the technique then turned to watch Megan. She steadied herself on the trail, took a deep breath, planted her poles and then pushed.