Read the first chapter of Returning for Trouble here.
She was desperate for solitude.
He barged in like a grumpy Grinch with a hero complex.
Now they’re snowed in together—with tension thick enough to toast marshmallows over.
A spicy-sweet, heart-tugging holiday romance where love might just take a miracle…learn more
Chapter 1
Sierra Chapin held her breath as she heard the footsteps on the wooden deck outside and then a key turning in the lock of the front door. They were coming into the cabin—she had to stay hidden.
Her heart raced as she tried to shrink even smaller as if that were possible in the hiding space she was sharing with a spider as big as an Australian Huntsman.
Okay, maybe not that big, but it was a given that if she didn’t have an affinity for wildlife, she wouldn’t stay under this bed with her curious partner. His small, beady eyes contemplated her from between a set of legs that appeared half the size of her little finger. And since they were mere inches apart, she hoped the big fellow didn’t drop from the bedspring poking through the undercover and onto her nose for an even closer inspection of the woman who had invaded his privacy.
With a sideways glance from her spot under the bed, she watched as footsteps quickly paced through the small cabin’s living room—there wasn’t much to it—and started towards the bedroom she was hiding in. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. Would they look under the bed?
Every horror movie she’d ever seen told her they would, but she didn’t have a choice. It was the only place in the mountain cabin big enough to hide her from view. Unless you counted the closet, and there was no way a search of the closet wasn’t in order. It was the first place the killer always looked.
Sure enough, the booted male feet—they were too big and heavy treading to be female—headed immediately for the closet and opened the shuttered doors wide, then grunted as he closed them. He muttered something she couldn’t catch all of, but it sounded like he was deprecating himself as to the need for anyone to be in the closet, but she could have been wrong. Lots of people needed to hide in closets, right? And right now, she was defeating him by being under the bed.
Round one goes to Sierra.
She did a mental hurrah until those booted feet turned towards the bed. Sweat beaded on her upper lip, but she refused to show Legs—the name she’d mentally given to her partner in hiding—her tongue. It just didn’t seem right somehow. He was already rubbing his two mandibles together as if getting ready to start weaving his web around his prey. All that was stopping him was figuring out what part of her he wanted to store for future use—probably her nose, since that body part was most prominent.
Legs sure had a lot of hair, was the incongruous thought that waddled through her sleepy brain. She held her breath and prayed Legs wouldn’t stop rubbing his mandibles until the booted feet finally turned and left the room with a determined tread and a muttered disbelief as to why anyone would leave so much behind in the kitchen. When the door shut and the key clicked in the lock, she let out a huge breath of relief that had the hair on Legs’ rounded body blowing backward. Then she immediately slid sideways as her partner lifted his front legs in self-defense and got the heck out of there.
The cabin was actually spotless, but she dusted herself off anyway, hoping Legs wouldn’t be looking for revenge tonight after she was asleep. Maybe she could bribe him out of there with something tasty. He had a good thing going under there, though, if the cleaning crews hadn’t found him before now. And realistically, where would she rehome him?
He was a typical Montana house spider, brown, hairy, and with long, scary legs. It wasn’t as if she could put him outside in the freezing temperatures; he was accustomed to the indoors. The best course of action was to leave the enterprising bugger right where he was. Hopefully, he wouldn’t travel during the night, but spiders generally shied away from people. She had no fear of spiders, but that didn’t mean she wanted him exploring her nostrils or something while she was sleeping.
Back to the problem at hand. With her head throbbing, she pulled the leaflet out of her back pocket and studied it once again. The rage she’d felt this morning had lessened after taking her medication, but it left her feeling tired and brain foggy. She reread the missive as she headed into the living room, where all the windows were shuttered.
“All residents are to be evacuated by 3:00 p.m. today. An unexpected blizzard is predicted to bring three feet of snow to the area, and services may be unavailable for an undetermined period of time. Your rentals will be refunded to you for the days you are cut short. Thank you for coming to Montana Hideaways.”
With a snort of disgust, she wadded the notice into a ball and threw it into the trash can in the kitchen. It was three days before Christmas, and she had rented this cabin until January 3rd. Changing her plans now was inconceivable. How could they treat their guests in this manner?
She’d just arrived yesterday, unpacked, and settled in, and now she’d spent the morning packing up again and following the instructions left with the missive that had been dropped off by some pretty young teenager who was far too bubbly for 7:00 a.m. She’d rebelled and hidden herself and her luggage under the bed with Legs, spotting the gutsy spider right away. There wasn’t much she could do about him because, like her, he refused to leave his refuge.
She could respect that.
The logical part of her brain told her that Mother Nature was the supreme ruler and that people were merely her subjects when she threw a tantrum, but that didn’t lessen her irritation at having her plans snookered.
When her old boss had asked her if she would be interested in checking into a wolf den reported to be in the area of the mountain resort near Kalispell, called Montana Hideaways, she’d jumped at the chance. She knew he was trying to lure her back to her job full-time, but she wasn’t ready for that. She’d agreed, though, wanting this time to get away from the caring people who loved her—and were stifling her.
And they didn’t understand.
Studying the wolves’ den patterns during the winter and learning more about them in their natural habitat was a plus. She loved animals and had an uncanny knack for winning their affection. She wasn’t too sure about Legs, though. Spiders weren’t her specialty, but they were fascinating creatures.
As she went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, she could hear the flurry of activity as folks stuffed their belongings into their vehicles and got into line to head out of the popular resort. A bit of guilt flashed through her when she thought of her roommate and friend, Bobbie—she would be worried. But it wasn’t as if she were being reckless; she was methodical when it came to making preparations to do anything.
In fact, Vander had continuously teased her about her anal attitude towards details, but that was the way her brain worked—or used to. The familiar pang of grief that was never far away zinged her with another arrow.
Vander was gone.
Quickly, she led her mind back to the inventory of her stay at Montana Hideaways. Keeping her mind busy kept the specter of sorrow at bay—until she slept, anyway. As she paced the floor, she ticked things off on her fingers once again. She’d already checked everything this morning, but she went over her mental list again.
The electricity was sure to go out in the blizzard, so a wood supply was important. She had a pretty good supply of firewood in the bin outside the cabin, and the bin by the fireplace was overflowing. The kitchen pantry contained candles, matches, two oil-filled lanterns, and a flashlight. There were also extra batteries for the flashlight, lamp oil refills, and a small camp stove for emergencies.
If necessary, she could boil water from the snow outside, but she didn’t think she’d have to. Several cases of water she brought with her were stored in the laundry area, along with plenty of coffee and soft drinks.
And of course, food—a ton of food.
Bobbie had insisted on loading her up with stuff she would never eat, like spam, Vienna sausages, canned chicken, and plenty of soups. And of course, the fridge was filled with food she had purchased at the store for a make-shift Christmas dinner of a baked turkey breast with some sides. Even if the heat went out, she could place most of the perishable food in the laundry room and close the door to keep it cold. She hadn’t planned on cooking much, though, just snacking mostly. And baking some hot rolls—she dearly loved the smell of baking bread. Her appetite had been missing for a long time, so whether she even cooked anything or not was still undetermined.
If worst came to worst, she could raid the other cabins for supplies, and the little store down near the middle of the complex. Even if it wasn’t open for business, it still had canned food and other supplies on its shelves.
Breaking and entering wasn’t something she usually did, but these weren’t normal circumstances—she could do it if she had to.
Bobbie had dropped her off, so she didn’t have a vehicle to account for, so no one would know she hadn’t left the resort by the required time, and by the time they did, it would be too late to do anything about it.
Perfect.
There was no way the blizzard would lock the roads down for very long anyway. The snowplows would come out, and the owners would return to check on their property, even if it meant riding snowmobiles to take inventory once the snow stopped falling.
All things considered, Sierra welcomed the blizzard. It would cut her off from civilization and finally give her some much-needed peace—sweet, blissful peace.
There would be no one to bother her, no one to make useless small talk, and no well-meaning platitudes to listen to. There was no need to make excuses for why she didn’t want to leave her house. No one was calling her to coax her back into living as if nothing had ever happened. And no one was in her space—or in her face.
Hallelujah.
Now that the inspection was over, all she had to do was get her suitcase and other gear out from under the bed—if Legs wasn’t holding it hostage after her invasion. Then she would be all set to enjoy her much-needed isolation.
Satisfied that all her bases were covered, Sierra peeked out from the side of a window blind to see how the evacuation was coming. The sky overhead was a leaden gray, and the wind had picked up. The loose snow on the ground was dancing here and there in twirling puffs as wind gusts caught it and threw it up with devilish glee.
As she watched, she kept her thoughts averted from the black hole where Vander and Lexi lived. Every time she ventured too close and allowed herself to remember, that black hole sucked her in. Time would have no meaning as she tried to cope with the fury and pain of her loss. Even though it had been over a year since the accident, her therapist said she was still in denial.
And maybe she was.
All Sierra knew was that she was furious with the world for robbing her of her husband and unborn child in a vicious quirk of fate. The nightmares still hadn’t stopped. The scars she bore on her abdomen and her temple were reminders of that awful night when Vander had swerved to miss the car full of teenagers high on life and weed.
While swerving to avoid the kids, their jeep had plunged over an embankment on a steep Montana road. The kids had been oblivious, she learned later, but when she had finally awakened in the hospital, she instantly knew she’d been robbed. Her husband and child had been cruelly ripped from her, and the pain of that memory was a black hole of utter misery.
Nuts! She’d done it again.
Pain washed over her in a tidal wave. With shaking hands, she raced to the bedroom and grabbed her purse from beneath the bed, flipping Legs off it without remorse. Fumbling with the zipper, she finally got her fingers working and took out a bottle of pills, snapped off the lid, and swallowed two of them. Her head was throbbing so badly that her vision was blurring. The images flooded her tired brain.
They were in the jeep, and Vander’s strong arms were fighting the wheel. Their car was rushing down a rock-studded hillside blanketed in fresh snow, and the twisted trees that, without their green cover, appeared to be reaching for them with gnarly, grasping limbs. Then everything went black, and she woke up in the hospital. That’s where the real pain began—and the rage.
The uncontrollable rage that consumed her.
Practicing the coping techniques her therapist had taught her, Sierra tried to focus on her friend Bobbie, who had stood by her side through it all. Taking slow breaths in and out, she steadied her racing heart and began to feel herself relax. Sometimes, she wished she could cry, but all the tears had been in the beginning. Now, the tears were gone, leaving her hollow, but the rage had remained.
Hot, messy, and uncontrollable.
And when it reached up through that black hole and caught her, her refuge was in the medication that took her away for a while. It wasn’t the best refuge, but it was all she had at the moment.
***
Spenser Walker stared at the list on the clipboard, his mouth thinning to a disapproving line. Where the devil was the resident from cabin number five? All the other residents were accounted for and had left an hour ago, except for Sierra Chapin. Her name had not been crossed off the list. He turned to his partner. “Hey, Bill, you sure you didn’t see this Chapin woman? She’s not crossed off the list yet.”
Bill Ralston, Spenser’s partner in Montana Hideaways, came over and checked the clipboard and then pulled on his well-cropped whiskers. “No, I can’t recall seeing her come through, and I do remember her. She was a pretty girl, but too thin. And she had a head of reddish-colored hair that stuck out from under her stocking cap like it had wings,” he joked.
Spenser stared with a wry grin. “You have such a way with words, it’s a wonder you’re married,” he mocked.
Bill’s blue eyes twinkled. “That’s the secret to getting married, my man—something you need to perfect. Besides, there isn’t a woman present, and Miss Chapin did look like a wrung-out Raggedy Ann doll minus the creepy smile. That’s why I remember her.” Then he shook his head. “No, I didn’t check her out, but maybe Winston did. Who checked cabin five?”
Spenser frowned and looked at his watch. The cabins were two miles back up the road, and this was the final checkpoint before leaving Montana Hideaways. Snow was already coming down, and helping campers put their chains on before leaving had eaten up their time. But the last of the taillights were disappearing into the foggy air, and he wanted to be right behind them. But according to his record, they were missing a camper.
“I checked the cabin myself. Other than all the food in the refrigerator and in the pantry left behind, nothing seemed unusual. Some people panic, though, and just run. There wasn’t any luggage in the closet or anywhere else. The fire was out, and the thermostat was set to the required temperature. It looked like she was gone.”
Bill grinned, his teeth flashing through his brown beard. “Did you check under the bed?”
Spenser’s eyebrow lifted. “The bed?”
“Yeah, you know. In the horror shows, that’s where all the females hide, thinking they are safe from monsters. Why Hollywood does that, I’ll never know. Anyone with half a brain knows all the monsters are under the bed.” His laughter rang out in the cold air, chased by white puffs of his breath.
“Why the devil would she hide under the bed?” Spenser growled, shaking his head.
“I’ve been married for ten years, Spense, and I’ve yet to figure out why women do most of what they do. Their brains are wired differently from ours, that’s all I can tell you. Maybe this woman is a criminal trying to hide from a gangster, or an abusive husband, or any other number of reasons women want solitude. My wife informs me that she doesn’t have to have a reason for what she does, so I go with that.”
Spenser grunted. “Mandy is a saint, that I can understand. Putting up with you is enough to make any woman run screaming for the hills.”
“You’re just jealous that you don’t have your own woman,” Bill teased without mercy. “Seriously, dude, you need to get hitched. You’ll never have time to be bored.”
“I’m not bored now, and your nonsense isn’t getting me any answers,” Spenser fired back. “I’ve already talked to Winston on the phone; he said she didn’t come through on his shift. It’s going on four o’clock, and we’ve already had three inches of snow. I’m going to run back up and make sure she got out.”
Bill shook his head at his partner, his blue eyes suddenly concerned. “Spense, if you go back up there, you may get snowed in. It’s coming down fast, and it won’t be long before you lose visibility. We both need to be heading down the mountain, not back up it.”
“Yeah, but if I get snowed in, I know how to take care of myself. A woman alone would be helpless. And you know as well as I do that since she’s our guest, we could be sued if anything happens to her.”
Bill nodded reluctantly and opened his reservations booklet. “There aren’t any snowmobiles checked out,” he mused thoughtfully, “so she didn’t go out for the day. “No skis or snowshoe rentals either.” He scratched his head beneath his cap with the eraser on the head of his pencil. “Unless she went out for a walk, she should be gone. Did she have a car?”
Spenser’s blood ran cold at the thought of the woman out for a walk. Then he shook it off. All her luggage was gone; she couldn’t have carried it out for a walk with her.
“No, I didn’t check that,” he grumbled, looking through his notebook at the registrations. “It looks like someone must have dropped her off. She doesn’t have a vehicle registered to the cabin.”
Bill’s eyebrows dropped into a frown. “Is there an emergency number listed for her? Maybe we should call before we lose phone service and see if she’s at home already?”
“Good idea.”
Spenser took out his cell phone and called the number listed on the application for Bobbie Stevenson. It rang twice, and a voice came over the line.
“Hello?”
Spenser cleared his throat. “Bobbie Stevenson?”
“Yes, this is her.”
“I don’t want to alarm you,” he cautioned, “but we’re checking to see if Sierra Chapin might have already left Montana Hideaways due to the blizzard coming in. We’ve checked the cabin she was registered to, and no one was in it. All the other guests are accounted for and have gone. Has she made contact with you by any chance?”
“What?”
The voice screeched in his ear, and Spenser held his phone out slightly with a grim huff.
“You’ve lost her? How can you lose a guest?” asked the shocked and angry woman.
“We haven’t lost her, Ms. Stevenson, we are trying to account for her so she doesn’t get left behind and snowed in. Please calm down so we can figure this out. Has she checked in with you or her family? Or arrived back at her residence?”
“N-No, she hasn’t called me,” the panicky woman stuttered. “We are roommates, and her family lives in another state. I dropped her off and planned to pick her up after the New Year. She doesn’t have a car to leave in and didn’t know anyone there, so she has to be there still.”
Bill signaled Spenser with a finger and mouthed in a low tone. “I just called her phone; it went straight to voicemail.”
“Will you please call her now? We have tried, and her cell goes straight to voicemail.”
“I’m going to put you on hold,” Bobbie replied hastily.
Spenser waited patiently until the distraught woman returned to the line.
“She isn’t answering her phone,” she seethed into Spenser’s ear. “If she’s pulling another disappearing act, I’m going to be so furious with her. For all I know, she may have decided to stay when everyone left because that’s all she ever wants to do is get away from everyone and be alone.” Her voice rose in a crescendo, filled with worry, fear, and anger.
A frisson of fear shot through Spenser. “Are you saying she might go off hiking or something in the snow alone?” If so, what had she done with her luggage?
“Oh no, she wouldn’t do that, she’s not stupid. But I wouldn’t put it past her to stay up there on her own. She has to be in that cabin. Oh my god…you have to find her!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find her,” Spenser replied grimly. “I’m going to head back to the resort, but I may lose cell service, and I will most likely be snowed in with her.”
“Snowed in?” Bobbie screeched in his ear. “That’s dangerous.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Stevenson. The Hideways has plenty of resources to keep the situation from becoming too dangerous. She has food, water, and firewood in her cabin, and plenty more at the local grocery store. She’ll be fine,” he promised, thinking Raggedy Ann’s bottom wouldn’t be nearly as fine as her stomach if she’d deliberately hidden from him in that cabin.
“Call me as soon as you know anything,” Bobbie pleaded.
“I’ll be losing phone service soon,” he replied, “but when the storm is over, and service is restored, I’ll have her call you immediately.”
Spenser hung up and headed for the truck. “If I’m not back in thirty minutes, Bill, leave without me. I’ve got keys to the cabins, and I’ll be fine. If she’s there, I’ll find her. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen if I don’t.” He rammed his cowboy hat on his head, his frustration simmering.
“We’re going to miss Christmas over this,” Bill warned in disgust, but I’ll come with you. You shouldn’t be going alone.”
“No, you get on down the mountain. You have a family with three little kids who need you there at Christmas, Bill. For me, it’s just another day.”
Bill hesitated. “Are you sure?” He eyed the falling snow with a practiced eye. “It’s getting heavier by the minute. We both need to hurry.”
Spenser waved him away as he opened the cab of his truck. “Go on. I’ll be fine, I have time to get two miles back up without losing visibility. Cabin five has a nice reserve of food, so I’ll start there.”
Bill looked visibly relieved. “Okay, man.” He slapped Spenser on the shoulder. “If you run into any trouble, you know where the radios are in the lodge. Or even if you don’t, try to get over there and let me know you found her.”
“I’ll let you know something as soon as I can.”
Bill turned around as he stepped up into his big blue truck. “And watch for the wolves. They have a den nearby. With all the guests checking out so fast, they may come around looking for scraps.”
Spenser nodded and waved Bill off, then turned and got into his maroon 4×4 pickup. The roads were already covered again in new fallen snow. Even with the dwindling visibility of the storm in all its fury, he could still make out the snowbanks, but it was slow going.
Briefly, his thoughts flew to Christmas. At this point, Christmas didn’t matter much to him. His fiancée, Clarissa, had decided she couldn’t handle the idea of having kids and had broken up with him last month, right after Thanksgiving. He’d suspected she might have been cheating on him for a while now, but he hadn’t been sure until she broke it off. She’d dumped him for a city slicker with a business suit and a load of promises for the rich life – and no children necessary.
He’d returned her Christmas gift and sworn off women for the next millennium. He’d found out from his sister that Clarissa hadn’t even gotten him a gift, so she’d been planning the breakup at her convenience.
As a result, Spenser was an embittered man at the moment.
A real Christmas grinch.
Returning for Trouble is Available at all your favorite retailers
Merry Christmas, my friends! Check out my newsletter for other deals and steals for the holidays. Newletter
Brandy Golden Books 