Risking It All for Love (A Christmas in Snow Valley Romance) by Kimberley Montpetit Read Free Book Online

my neck, a fizzy feeling in my
stomach I was desperately trying to ignore.
    Oh, and Michael. Of course. Yes. Him.
    I bit at my lower lip, stabbed by the familiar guilt, and opened
my laptop to check email.
    There were a series of messages from Zach Howard, one of the
company dancers. He was thirty, kind of old for me; although anything went
these days when it came to relationships. One of the other dancer’s fathers had
married a young woman the same age as his daughter. The troupe girls had rolled
our eyes and shuddered. Could you imagine being with a man who was old enough
to be your father?
    Even though Zach had the most muscular body of any dancer I’d ever
seen—and was not old enough to be my father, just a big brother, I
still wasn’t interested. Despite the flirting. The phone calls. The multiple
invitations for a movie or coffee.
    His emails were filled with a couple of silly holiday jokes.
Stories about his family in Houston. A quick mention that he was missing the
company—which I took to mean he was insinuating that he missed me. I
honestly hadn’t given him a single thought since the ballet company holiday
party.
    “Welcome to my world,” I quickly wrote back, tapping the keys with
my freshly painted long nails, done in pale, sugary cotton pink for the Sugar
Plum Fairy performance. “Family Drama. Pestering Moms. Bossy older sisters.
Although fairly cool younger brother.”
    I kept the email short and sweet, despite Zach having typed his
phone number in a bolded font, asking me to call. “When you get back to New
Orleans it’s time for us to have a real date, Jessica. We’ll have fun. I
promise.”
    He may have been sincere. And then again, he may be using
innuendos that were creeping me out. Hard to tell in email. Despite his rugged
good looks, I wasn’t interested. Never had been, never would.
    Thanks goodness Snow Valley, Montana was a long ways from Houston.
“Bet you don’t have two feet of snow on your front lawn,” I typed. “See you in
a few weeks,” I ended airily.
    Hit send. Done. I deleted the junk mail and closed the computer
lid, my body eager to move while I cast traitorous thoughts toward James
Douglas. I wondered if Pastor John would let him give a guest sermon today.
    Quickly, I dressed in some leggings, thick socks, and a sweatshirt.
Pulled my uncombed hair into a pony tail and brushed my teeth.
    Then slid down the polished banister downstairs just like I used
to as a teenager.
    I stood at the picture window, drinking hot raspberry tea and
eating one of my mother’s homemade cinnamon rolls, warm from the microwave and
dripping icing.
    White sugar. Worst thing for me, but it was hard to resist. It was
Christmas after all. And my mom was an excellent baker. Her specialty:
breads and pies.
    After licking my fingers I stretched in front of the tree—bare
of decorations. The boxes were stuffed along the wall under the drapes waiting
to be hung. Mom was easily distracted. I’d probably have to help her finish. Growing
up, I’d always done the Christmas decorating. My sister Catherine was useless
in that department.
    Selecting Christmas tunes on my iPod, I went through my warm-up
routine as best I could. Maybe I should find a gym while I was here until New
Year’s. Between the holiday food and no regular dance classes, I was going to
go backward in agility and skills.
    Every dancer’s constant battle—staying limber. My muscles
ached a bit. Bones creaked. Golly, had I turned forty overnight?
    I did a series of pliés and then a few turns in place, using the tree angel for spotting,
my neck swiveling.
    I was bent over my knees, head down, holding the stretch when the
front door opened. In burst Catherine and the kids and my brother, Sam.
    “Thought you’d still be in bed,” Catherine said, tossing coats,
knit caps, and mittens all over the couch and armchair. She was such a slob.
    I gave her a faint smile, filled with sarcasm. “Yeah, well, you
thought wrong.”
    “Girls!”