Snowfall Page 2

  “So what? That ain’t my problem.” Tony interrupted his thoughts, the smarmy grin leaving his lips, his features morphing into something harder and much colder.

  Not for the first time, Wyatt wished he’d never met Tony. When Wyatt had originally landed in prison, it’d been so disorienting and downright scary, and Tony had been talkative and affable. Wyatt didn’t make friends easily, but everyone needed someone to guard their back in prison. For a while, he’d used Tony’s company like a security blanket. Tony, too, had only recently been sent to jail, and so both of them found their way through the maze of social etiquette in the prison hierarchy together. They were of a similar age, both celebrating their thirtieth birthday within days of each other. They were interested in some of the same things. NASCAR racing and the Texas Rangers’ baseball games were common topics of their conversations.

  But it wasn’t until Wyatt had known Tony a whole year that he found out Tony had a connection to Dmytro Melink. Dmytro was bad news, and Wyatt wanted nothing to do with him. After that, he saw Tony in a different light.

  Wyatt gave a disgusted snort in Tony’s direction and walked toward his pickup. “How did you get out here?” Last time Tony had breezed into town, he’d hitchhiked. Wyatt didn’t think Tony would’ve had much chance of hitching a ride out to the ranch in the snow at this time of night. Not on New Year’s Eve.

  “I borrowed a car.”

  Wyatt stopped in his tracks again and whipped his head around to stare at Tony. The look on his face said it all. “Shit, man.” Wyatt hung his head. Tony had stolen a car. That was the absolute last thing he needed. It was the last thing Tony needed, too, but the guy didn’t seem to have the same need for self-preservation as Wyatt. Either that, or he was desperate. Which, looking at Tony’s frown, seemed to be more likely.

  “What? I’ll take it back where I got it from. Like I said, I borrowed it. There was no other way for me to get out here.” Tony’s voice had risen to a nasal whine.

  “Come on, let’s talk in my truck.” Wyatt turned, and kept walking toward the parking lot. He wasn’t worried someone would overhear them out here, but it’d be much warmer in the cab, out of the icy wind.

  Swinging up into the truck, he leaned over and unlocked the passenger door for Tony to get in. Then he started the motor and let it idle, willing it to warm up fast. Tony jumped in, rubbing his hands together.

  “Who knew it got so cold in these shitty mountains? Why in hell you wanna live here is beyond me,” Tony said.

  Wyatt didn’t answer; he didn’t want to partake in Tony’s small talk. Sitting in the pickup brought back memories of him and Stella, snowbound, waiting out the night with a blizzard raging outside the truck, curled together on the bench seat for warmth. They’d talked for many hours, then slept in each other’s arms, wrapped in blankets to stay warm. He’d felt a connection, something he hadn’t had with another woman for a very long time, not since he’d landed in jail.

  “Why couldn’t you have waited ’til morning?” He wanted to add—instead of crashing the party—but he implied it in his glare. Wyatt was livid at Tony for turning up tonight. Now, everybody knew about their association. Even if they didn’t know who Tony was, it always paid to be careful. But Tony didn’t seem to care.

  “Nah, couldn’t wait. I’m outta here tomorrow. But I need my package.”

  Wyatt blew out a long exhale. Of course he did. Tony was volatile and unpredictable. A little over a week ago, he’d come to Wyatt, begging him to hide a bag for him. Said that he wanted to keep it out of sight for the next few months. Wyatt had wanted nothing to do with Tony or his bag. But Tony had begged, and eventually Wyatt gave in. Because they’d been buddies in prison. And because they had a relationship forged in the pits of adversity. Wyatt didn’t like it, but he owed Tony. There was a debt of honor between them.

  Which was perhaps serendipity. Because if Wyatt hadn’t been coming back from that old, abandoned house a week ago where he’d hidden the bag, he wouldn’t have come across Stella’s crashed truck.

  “Shit, Tony. Really?” Wyatt put his head in his hands.

  “Yeah, really.” Tony’s voice hardened. “Look, I’m sorry to ruin your New Year’s Eve. But I got things I need to do.” He paused for a second and Wyatt looked up to see a curl at the edge of Tony’s impish grin. “It seemed like you had quite a little party of your own going on with that cute chick in the corner.”

  Wyatt narrowed his eyes at Tony. “What?” His voice was low and dangerous.

  “Yeah, I saw the two of you from the doorway. Having a nice ol’ chat, you were.”

  Wyatt didn’t know where Tony was going with this, but he didn’t like his tone. A sudden sliver of ice formed in his spine. If he’d put Stella at risk, he’d never forgive himself. And what about Cat and Levi? Were they in any danger, too?

  Voice even and his fears kept hidden, Wyatt said, “Well, you’re just gonna have to wait. The place I stashed it is hard to get to.” The winding road out to the abandoned house would be slippery and dangerous, especially at night. A light dusting of snow was falling, even now. Wyatt wasn’t prepared to take the risk of hitting a patch of ice and sliding off the road. “And it’ll be impossible to find it in the dark, anyway.” It’d taken Wyatt two days to get his pickup cleared from out of the snow after the blizzard. The snowplow hadn’t made it up the road until the day after Christmas, and even then, he’d had to ask Levi to help him dig it out of the deep drifts. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not after rescuing Stella. It’d taken another two days for Dean to organize a towing company to winch the shattered truck Stella had been driving back up to the road. It’d been a write-off, and Dean was still waiting for the Chevy dealer to ship him up his new one.

  Tony made an impatient noise, unhappy with Wyatt’s decision. Wyatt wondered exactly what was in that backpack Tony had given him. He’d told himself, the less he knew the better, so he resisted the urge to take a peek. Tony had never offered to tell him, and Wyatt wisely decided not to ask.

  “There’s nothing I can do. You can’t just turn up out of the blue and expect me to jump whenever you snap your fingers.” Wyatt raised his hands in the air.

  “Fine. I’ll come past your place at lunchtime tomorrow. Make sure you have it by then.”

  “No, don’t.” Wyatt grimaced. He’d like to keep Tony away from his family, if possible. The less time he spent near his house or his loved ones, the better. “Meet me out the back of CJ’s Den. The burger place on Main Street. There’s a side alley. I’ll be out there at midday.”

  “Sounds good, bro.” Tony smiled and reached for the door handle.

  “Do you promise to leave me alone after this?”

  Tony looked up, surprise showing on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I promise.” He pursed his lips “It’s good that you’re trying to get your life back on track. At least one of us is. I don’t wanna mess this up for you. Really, I don’t, Wyatt.”

  Maybe Tony was telling the truth. Maybe somewhere inside, Tony had a good heart, but his grasp of reality was skewed. He told Wyatt that he wanted to be rid of Dmytro, but Wyatt always wondered how deeply imbedded Tony was in the mob boss’s dealings.

  “See ya tomorrow. Midday, sharp.” With that, Tony got out of the truck and slammed the door. Wyatt watched the wiry man make his way across the parking lot and get into a brand-new Lexus. Shit, the guy was unbelievable. Talk about making a spectacle of himself. Even if Tony returned the car to its rightful owner, there was no way it wouldn’t cause a stir in this small town. The taillights disappeared into the trees.

  He sat for a while, wondering if he should go back into the party. It was nearly midnight. They’d all be wishing each other Happy New Year, singing “Auld Lang Syne”, and kissing each other. Wyatt shivered at the thought of kissing Stella again. Those leaf-green eyes staring up into his face. Up close, her eyes were something else. Clear and luminous, with a slightly darker ring around the iris. He remembered her soft lips from Christmas Day, u
nder the mistletoe. Remembered how pliant and willing she’d been in his arms. The mere notion of it had his cock standing to attention. Perhaps it was better not to go inside, with everything happening with Tony at the moment. And the fact he was an ex-con. It wasn’t the right time for him to be having any sort of relationship.

  And especially not after Stella had revealed she had a boyfriend. He should’ve guessed a beautiful woman like her wouldn’t be single. He just wished he’d known earlier. Perhaps he wouldn’t have made such a fool of himself, kissing her under the mistletoe. And he certainly wouldn’t have come to the party tonight.

  Still, it was par for the course; women weren’t to be trusted; he’d learned that the hard way. The whole reason he’d ended up in prison in the first place was because of a woman. Because he’d been trying to protect a woman. But it’d backfired, big time. She’d ended up dead. And he’d ended up in jail, accused of a crime he didn’t commit.

  Wyatt slammed the pickup into gear. Was his life is ever going to be normal again? Or was he going to lurch from one screwup to the next? He was trying hard to get back into a regular routine. At least he now had a job, and thanks to Levi, a place to live. On the outside, it probably looked to people like he was slotting back into society. But on the inside, he had to live with the acid resentment eating away at his guts. He was a changed man because of his time spent in prison. And even though it wasn’t his fault, he was going to have to live with the stigma of that for the rest of his life.

  He drove the old, orange Chevy out of the parking lot, taking care on the winding road. It’d do him no good to take his anger out on his truck; he’d only end up in a ditch, or dead by the side of the road.

  Wyatt stilled, the idea sparking a certain interest deep inside him. After only a second or two, Wyatt shrugged that thought away. He wasn’t the type to wallow in his own misery. And he’d never do that to Levi and Cat. He just needed to keep moving forward. And that meant taking a drive to the old, ruined house out on Black Pine Ridge Road to retrieve a mysterious package in the morning.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TWO DAYS LATER, Stella stood next to the outdoor barbecue, the heat emanating from the whole pig turning slowly on the spit roast making her sweat, despite the cool temperatures outside. Stargazer Ranch was finally welcoming back all of its guests. There was an air of excitement, a buzz surrounding the staff. This was what they’d been waiting for. Cars were lining up in the parking lot, and Stella could imagine Naomi and Penny being run off their feet with everyone checking in. Dean would be in his absolute element, receiving every guest individually, his charming smile on show. This was why he’d built this special lodge, so he could share it with everyone.

  Stella smiled to herself. Dean was such an extrovert; she could never be like him. But she admired him greatly, and knew she’d been lucky to find him as a boss.

  She, Joseph, and Violet had been busy all morning prepping a mountain of food. Joseph had started the spit roast well before dawn, to make sure it was ready on time. Everyone agreed the lodge was now better than before. Joseph had worked with a designer and they’d come up with the perfect new kitchen.

  “A new year and a new beginning,” Dean liked to say to anyone who’d listen.

  “Hi there, Stella. Where do you want this?” She turned around to see Cat and Wyatt struggling toward her, carrying a metal barbecue. She was so shocked at the sight of Wyatt that she completely forgot the question. What was he doing here? She hadn’t seen him since he’d gone off with that man, Tony, before midnight on New Year’s Eve.

  “Stella, this is heavy,” Cat grunted. Dean had mentioned something about Joseph needing another barbecue for all the ribs and steaks he had yet to grill.

  “Over here,” she said, pointing to a cleared section between the spit roast and a large, wooden table.

  “Wow, that smells amazing,” Cat said, lifting her nose in the barbecue’s direction.

  “It’s one of Joseph’s specialties. Along with his secret recipe sauce for his ribs. Are you staying for the food?” Stella was looking at Cat, but watching Wyatt out of the corner of her eye.

  “You bet,” Cat replied. “Levi’s coming, as soon as he can get away from work.” Wyatt cast a dark look at his soon-to-be-sister-in-law. She shrugged. “Sorry, bro, didn’t I tell you? You’re stuck here for the afternoon.”

  Wyatt looked about to argue, but Cat jumped in first. “C’mon, it’s the weekend, lighten up. You don’t have to be so serious all the time.” Cat disappeared in the direction of the parking lot, not giving him a chance to reply. She was one woman who always spoke her mind. Which Stella generally thought was a good thing. But looking at Wyatt’s dark frown, she decided a little diplomacy sometimes worked better.

  “Did you have something you needed to get back to town for? A shift at CJ’s? I can drive you in, if you like.” The words left her tongue before she had time to think. She was stupid to make the offer; there was no way Joseph would let her leave the ranch right now.

  But the frown smoothed at her words, and his gaze softened. “No, I’m not working until tomorrow. Thank you, though. I just didn’t expect… Never mind.”

  Why would anyone pass up free food? Unless it was because of all the people about to descend on the covered area. Wyatt wasn’t good with people. An awkward silence fell around them. He was doing that thing again, where he avoided her gaze.

  “Can I help with anything else while I’m here?” he asked.

  “You could set out those chairs over there.” Stella pointed at a stack of folded chairs, leaning against one of the large, upright poles. “Dean was going to send Dale down to do it, but he hasn’t appeared.”

  “Be glad to.”

  Stella went back to tending the barbecue, keeping track of those broad shoulders as she cooked. Wyatt had on the same black jeans and black sheepskin coat he’d worn the night he rescued her. He pulled a knit cap out of one of his pockets and put it on, covering his shock of black hair. Watching him move, his easy gait as he strode back and forth between the pile of chairs and where he was setting them up, Stella felt something stir low in her belly. He was tall and lithe, with a sense of purpose. It brought back memories of the night she’d spent curled up against him. Her imagination had run riot that night, wondering if there really was a set of hardened abs beneath all those layers of clothes. She’d love to find out.

  “Whatever happened to that guy, Tony, was it?” She asked, breaking the silence.

  He stopped and turned to face her, mouth pulled down in a scowl. “I never saw him again.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Stella had been hoping for a bit more conversation. “Was he a friend from prison?”

  Wyatt narrowed his black eyes slightly. “What makes you say that?” he asked a little too quickly.

  “I’m not sure.” It wasn’t something she could put her finger on, but there’d been an aura about him. And the fact Wyatt wasn’t disagreeing with her, made her feel she was on the right track. But she let it go.

  Joseph appeared, clattering down the wooden steps with his arms full of plates. “Oh, thank Christ the other barbecue is here. Quick, we need to get these ribs and steaks on the grill. Naomi told me she’s bringing some guests down in a few minutes. We haven’t even got half of the food on the table yet.”

  “I can help if you like,” Wyatt offered. He followed Joseph back up the stairs, and Stella watched his retreating back. Was it always going to be this hard to talk to him? What did she see in the guy, anyway? He was taciturn, and way too earnest for her liking. He was plain hard work. But on the other hand, she’d seen a gentler side to him that night in the truck; knew there was a lot more going on in his mind than he let on. How did that saying go again? Still waters run deep? It was certainly true with Wyatt.

  Her musings were cut short by the sound of voices. It must be Naomi and her guests already. Stella had no more time to think about Wyatt for the next hour, as more and more guests arrived and she was run off her feet, making sure
the salads were topped up, and that there were plenty of hot ribs to eat. Wyatt helped, too, making sure everyone had a drink in their hands, and that the large fireplace was well stocked with wood.

  Finally, Violet told her to grab something to eat. Everyone had been fed, and people were coming back for seconds, or thirds. Violet could handle it for the time being. Stella didn’t need to be told twice; she was starving. Grabbing a plate, she loaded it up with roast pork and salad—there were no ribs left—and wandered through the crowd. There was Wyatt, standing on the fringes, with Cat, Levi, Emily, Tom, and Penny. She made her way over.

  “Looks like we all had the same idea.” Emily held up her plate of food. “Pity I didn’t get to taste any of the ribs. Were they good?”

  “I don’t know,” Stella laughed. “They were the first to go.”

  Emily turned to Tom, her gaze going serious. “I heard that Clayton is back in town. He must’ve been released from prison already.”

  Both Emily and Tom shot a compassionate glance in Cat’s direction. Cat’s face darkened, but she said nothing. The name rang a bell in Stella’s memory. That’s right, Penny had mentioned him just the other day. Clayton was the man who’d been falsely accused of lighting the fires—Stella had never met him because he’d left the ranch by the time she became the assistant cook—and he’d finally been released from jail after serving nearly six months for trying to abduct Cat. At the time, Stella wasn’t really sure why Penny brought up the subject, the guy must be some sort of loser in her eyes. Maybe Penny felt sorry for him; she wasn’t sure and hadn’t pursued the subject.

  “Sorry, Cat,” Emily apologized. “But I thought you should know he’d been released.”

  “She’s right,” Tom added. “Better to hear it from a friend than find out by running into him on the street.” He took a protective step closer to Emily.