In Search Of Dreams. Ginna Gray

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СКАЧАТЬ glares whenever she passed them in the aisles.

      Otto Hendricks’s mouth thinned when Kate pushed her cart up to the checkout stand and started unloading her groceries. Neither he nor his wife, Shirley, spoke, nor did Kate. Keeping her expression blank, she transferred her purchases onto the counter while Otto rang them up on the ornate, old cash register. Like everything else in Gold Fever, the machine was a relic.

      Shirley bagged Kate’s groceries, her face pinched up like a prune. When her husband finished ringing up the items he curtly announced the total, and without a word Kate counted out the required amount in cash and loaded the sacks into her cart.

      Neither Otto nor Shirley offered to help, nor did they wish her goodbye when she turned to leave. As Kate opened the door and pushed her cart out onto the sidewalk, she heard an indignant huff and Gert’s querulous, “I swear, I don’t know how that woman has the nerve to show her face in this town.”

      “I know,” Shirley agreed. “It makes my blood boil to have to wait on her. You ask me—”

      The door swung shut, cutting off the venomous tirade. Kate paused to draw in a deep breath of cool mountain air, then zipped up her windbreaker and turned toward home.

      She walked purposefully with her head high and her gaze focused straight ahead, pretending not to notice the stares that followed her or how people she had known most of her life stepped aside to avoid any sort of physical contact with her. A few doors down the street, Donny Bowman stepped from his family’s bakery and headed in her direction. He had given Kate her first kiss, had taken her to the senior prom and afterward had declared his undying love for her, but when he looked up and spotted her, his face hardened. Kate’s chin came up another notch, and she met his cold stare with unapologetic directness. It was Donny who finally broke eye contact and looked away.

      The corners of Kate’s mouth curved ever so slightly. Good. Let him glare and grumble, she thought. He won’t see me cringe or hang my head and slink away like a whipped dog.

      Thankfully, Gold Fever was a small place, only about eight blocks square. Main Avenue was a spur off Highway 550, about a half mile away, and the only paved street in town. The others were dirt and gravel.

      In minutes Kate reached the north end of town where the paving ended. With a sigh of relief, she started up the sloping dirt road. The grocery cart bumped and rattled over rocks and potholes as she pulled it along behind her.

      Kate hated going into town, and put off doing so until she had no choice. Even during the height of tourist season she kept to herself as much as possible, venturing down into town merely to buy supplies and pick up her mail at the post office.

      The cart was heavy, and soon her arm began to ache. She could have made it easy on herself and driven the SUV into town, but she enjoyed walking and getting out in the fresh air. Winter was just around the corner, and once it arrived she wouldn’t be able to walk to town.

      Climbing the gentle slope, she looked around at the soaring peaks and smiled. How she loved it here. As a six-year-old, the first time she and her family had driven over the last pass and started down the winding road into this high mountain valley, she had been enchanted. In twenty-three years that feeling had never left her.

      A gust of wind sent a chill through Kate and tugged a blond curl loose from her French braid. She shivered and pushed the dancing tendril away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. During the past couple of weeks, storms had powdered the tops of the mountains with fresh snow. Even in summer, snow capped the jagged peaks, but now the white mantle was growing longer, sagging unevenly like a cheap petticoat, edging downward a little more with each weather front that came through. Soon the town would be buried under a blanket of snow and ice, and Gold Fever’s few souls would hunker down before their fires for the long winter, venturing out only when absolutely necessary.

      Kate’s gaze followed the switchback path of the road upward to the house sitting majestically about five hundred feet up the base slope of Smithson Mountain, overlooking the town. She picked up her pace, impatient suddenly to get back inside the protection of its walls. The huge rose-granite house was now known as the Alpine Rose Bed-and-Breakfast, but to Kate it would always be her place of refuge, her home.

      The last guests had checked out yesterday, and though most of the tourists who rented rooms from her were nice people, Kate had been happy to see them go. She was looking forward to the respite from the seven-day-a-week work schedule of running a bed-and-breakfast, as well as to her annual period of solitude.

      Besides, she needed time to get the place winterized before the snows came in earnest. She had already begun spreading a thick layer of compost and mulch around the bases of the rose bushes that surrounded the house. There were also storm windows to hang, outdoor faucets to insulate, porch furniture to store in the garage.

      When she was done with those chores she had to lay in a larger supply of food and art supplies and stock up on books and needlework projects and jigsaw puzzles—things to keep her occupied during the next five months.

      Kate rattled around all alone in the big house in the winter, but she didn’t mind. Though she had not been born an introvert, out of necessity she had developed into one over the past four years. Now she had become accustomed to the winter solitude and looked forward to sleeping late and having only herself to please. Most of all, she looked forward to having her home to herself once again.

      Kate had barely reached the house and put away her groceries and was passing through the foyer when she heard a vehicle coming up the road. She stepped outside onto the porch and shaded her eyes with her hand, wondering who it could possibly be. Other than Zach, who was in Arizona, and an occasional delivery or repair person, the only people who came to her door were tourists, and the season was over.

      Probably just someone who was lost, she thought as the green Jeep Cherokee climbed toward her. Often a motorist got confused and took the spur road instead of following the highway north. Most quickly realized their mistake and backtracked, but a few ended up on the dirt road from town that led to her doorstep.

      Kate crossed the porch to wait at the top of the steps. The Jeep came to a halt at the end of the walkway and a tall, dark-haired man climbed out.

      “May I help you?” she inquired politely.

      “I sure hope so.” He grinned at her over the top of the vehicle. Taking his time, he paused by the Jeep, hands planted on his hips, and drank in the spectacular panorama of snow-capped mountains all around and the picturesque Victorian town nestled in the valley below. When he’d looked his fill, he skirted the vehicle and started up the brick walkway, shaking his head. “Man, that’s some view.”

      “Yes, isn’t it.”

      Watching the man approach, Kate experienced an odd flutter in the pit of her stomach. With his dark good looks and lean build, the man exuded a potent masculine aura that was palpable even from a distance.

      That sexy, loose-limbed saunter alone was enough to raise the coldest woman’s blood pressure. Oh, yes, he was a good-looking devil, she thought as he came to a halt at the foot of the porch steps. His features were strong and beautifully formed, chiseled just enough to save him from being pretty. No doubt he left a trail of palpitating female hearts in his wake wherever he went.

      Judging from the way her own was thumping, Kate realized ruefully that she was no more immune than the rest of her sisters. Either that, or she’d been alone far too long.

      The man placed one foot on the bottom step, and the faded denim jeans stretched taut over well-defined muscles. СКАЧАТЬ