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

Mom scolded.
    Every time I saw my older sister, I was suddenly back in high
school bickering with her like we were thirteen again. No matter how old we
got. Pathetic.
    My two nieces crashed into me for hugs and I swung them up and
kissed each one on their faces, snuggling into their necks. Joanie was four and
Amber was two and they were counting the days until Christmas with the Advent
Calendar my mother had put on the refrigerator.
    “You missed church!” Amber cried, immediately slipping out of my
arms to run to the tree and check for any new gifts.
    “Yeah, well, I had to work late last night.” I said lamely.
    My mother pursed her lips at my excuse and then asked, “Did you
put the roast in the oven?”
    I gave her a blank stare. “Didn’t know I was supposed to.”
    “I left a note on the cupboard.”
    “Sorry, Mom, I didn’t see it.”
    She sighed and trotted off to the kitchen. I followed for penance,
Amber hanging onto my legs and beginning to wail. “Joanie won’t let me play
with her doll!”
    Catherine pulled her off me and dragged the girls off to change
out of their frilly church dresses. Wails followed, but she quickly cut them
off. “Cookies after lunch for everyone who cooperates!”
    “Does that include me?” Sam asked, heading to the computer in the
corner.
    Catherine patted his head. “If you’re a good boy.”
    Sam shook his head. “Girls! There are too many of them in this
house.”
    As I entered the kitchen, Mom was already shoving the slab of pot
roast and veggies in a roasting pan into the oven. “Guess dinner will be late.
Of course, your father won’t be home for a couple of hours. He stayed on to
talk with Pastor John about the upcoming fundraisers for the hospital. He’s on
the board now, you know. ”
    “Oh, right. I forgot.”
    “You’d remember if you came to church with us.”
    I hid a grimace as I freshened my tea with more hot water from the
kettle.
    Mom continued, pulling out a mixing bowl and the ingredients to
create cookie dough. “Pastor John will think you’re ignoring him when you don’t
come to church.”
    “Maybe I am,” I answered vaguely. There was that incident
in high school with Kazz and Paisley and Molly at Bible Camp when we set the
outhouse on fire.
    “But everyone needs church—or something—to ground
them.”
    “Snow Valley is just too freaking cheerful for me. This town is
small and gossipy. I hate everyone knowing my business. All those hugs when Michael—at the funeral, then the cemetery—you know.” I shook
my head. “I felt stifled. Claustrophobic. I just wanted to scream at everyone
to stop looking at me.”
    Now my mother looked hurt. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.
The people here care about you. We all hurt terribly when Michael passed away.”
    I stuck my hands over my ears. “Don’t say it like that! He
died. He was killed. It was my fault!”
    Mom reared back as if I’d struck her. Then her face fell,
stricken. She tried to wrap her arms around me, but I flung her off. “It was
not your fault, Jessica. It was stormy that night and the roads were icy and
the brakes locked as you skidded through that intersection. We were blessed
that you didn’t die that night, too.”
    “Oh, it’s okay that Michael died as long as I didn’t. Tell
that to his mother.”
    “You know I don’t mean it like that. That’s not fair.”
    “Please. I don’t want to talk about it.”
    I headed for the door, but Mom stopped me. I didn’t turn around as
she spoke, quietly and forcefully. “I know you think I interfere with your life
too much. That I’m cloying and probably much too sappy. But your father and I
care deeply about you. We see how much you’ve been hurting the last three
years. Even if you hid yourself away in New Orleans, we know why you left. I’m
also proud of you for trying to live your life. For trying to make it on your
own. But,” she took a deep breath. As though gathering her courage. “But ever
since you