Snowbound in Montana by C. J. Carmichael Read Free Book Online

the people to make a random guess—and be right. Eliza simply didn’t know what to say.
    “Well,” Bonnie said, obviously not one to let a sleeping dog lie. “Which one is it? Old friend or ex-boyfriend?”
    “I—” She spotted Marshall then. He’d been coming toward her, then had suddenly paused and turned around. How much had he heard?
    *
    Marshall felt a little stunned. He knew he wasn’t the kind of guy Eliza Bramble would give a second look to. But the two of them had had moments. That talk about his accident and the way his family hadn’t been there for him. She’d looked so sympathetic, as if she knew what that had felt like for him. Then, skating with his arm around her waist. They’d seemed to move so well together, and he was just the right amount taller than her to make it all feel so natural. Then later, after he’d helped her out of her skates, when he’d been rubbing her incredibly narrow feet in his hands…he’d thought she’d given him a look.
    But he must have imagined it. All of it. Because a woman who had dated someone like John Urban wasn’t just in another league. She was playing a totally different sport.
    “Marshall!” Eliza had left the table and was walking toward him.
    Too late he realized he was standing randomly in the middle of the dining hall, like a wild animal who’d been hit with a stun gun. “Um, yeah?”
    “I was thinking of helping Betsy with the cleanup. Are you in?”
    “Uh, sure, that’s a good idea.”
    “That Bonnie is something else,” Eliza said quietly as they made their way past the tables to the arched opening that led to the kitchen. “She was grilling me like I was a suspect in a murder investigation or something.”
    Slowly his wits were coming back to him. “Knock on wood. That’s all we need to make this trip complete. A mysterious death.”
    She laughed. “Like one of those murder mystery dinners.”
    It cheered him, hearing her laugh. He was pretty sure she liked him, at least. But then, he’d always been good in the role of ‘friend.’ “By the way—excellent idea to help Betsy. She must be exhausted by now.”
    And she was. They found her sitting on a stool, her head resting on the butcher block counter normally reserved for food preparation. She looked stunned. Around her was the detritus of the evening meal. “I don’t know where to start,” she admitted. “I’ve never had to cook for so many guests without any of my hired girls to help.”
    “You start by getting a good night’s rest,” Eliza said. “It’s still snowing out there, so tomorrow isn’t likely to be any easier.”
    “Eliza’s right,” Marshall said. “We’ll take care of this. And in the morning you can keep things simple. Boiled eggs and toast will do just fine. People will understand.”
    Betsy sniffed. “Boiled eggs and toast my eye. But—are you serious about the offer to clean up?”
    “We insist.” Eliza was already scraping dishes to go into the dishwasher. But before she could load then, Marshall shook his head.
    “We should do the washing up by hand,” he said. “We’ll use less hot water that way.”
    “Oh.” She went still for a moment. “Is it as serious as that?”
    “Better safe than sorry,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
    They worked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Is it true what Bonnie said? Did you really date John Urban?” It was probably gauche of him to ask. But he had to know.
    She sighed. “It was before he was famous. We met in California. I was working for one of the wineries near Sonoma, and he came in for a tour. He had a gig at one of the restaurants in town, and that night I went to hear him. I thought he was…really talented.”
    “By talented, I suppose you mean hot.” He passed her a large pot he’d just finished washing.
    She took the pot, dried it, put it away. “Yes. That, too.”
    “So,” he said, trying to sound casual, “How long did you guys date?”
    “In California? Just