Page 34 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men

CAMRYN

As it turned out, some of Sarge’s biggest paintings were also his worst. These were usually grandiose and campy, and packed with so much in the way of subject matter it destroyed all illusion of perspective and scale.

In short, the more rope you gave him, the easier it became for Sarge to hang himself.

Artistically speaking, anyway. As a man, however, I respected him immensely.

A shadowbox filled with colorful ribbons and impressive-looking medals hung in his room, installed there by the guys.

When I took the time to look them up during a writing break, I was literally floored by how much the man had seen and accomplished over the course of his life.

My admiration ran so deep, I found myself writing Sarge into my story.

Not by name of course, but I created a character in his honor and fleshed him out with exactly the kind of larger than life personality I imagined Sarge to be.

It was fun, paying homage to this incredible person whose bed I was sometimes sleeping in.

A man who I would unfortunately never meet, but who’d unknowingly and inadvertently had such a major influence on my life’s trajectory.

I was three paragraphs into the character’s second appearance when a gravelly voice whispered, no more than an inch from my ear.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I almost jumped out of my chair! Ryder’s arms folded around me before I even knew he was in the room with me. That’s how silent he could move.

“What’cha doing?”

“Ummm… recovering from a heart attack?” I gasped, clutching my chest.

He laughed and kissed my neck. Which of course gave me instant shivers.

“Do that later. You need to come down right now.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Jaxon should be home soon. I was going to shower and get all prettied up, so the four of us could—”

“Jaxon’s going to be late,” said Ryder. “And trust me, no one’s going anywhere tonight. Not for a while, anyway. But right now, if you hurry up, you can jump into the Marauder with us. Oakley and I are heading into town, to pick up a few things before the storm.”

“Storm?”

He rolled his eyes. “Have you been hiding under a rock?”

“No. I’ve been up here, writing all morning.”

“Yeah, well, all hell’s headed this way,” he swore. “And if we’re quick enough, we can dip into town and make sure we’re prepared for the worst of it.”

My initial disappointment at our Saturday night plans being canceled gave way to the childish excitement of a big, upcoming snowstorm. It was something I’d definitely missed growing up in Florida. I wasn’t about to miss out on it now.

“Could we stop at the pharmacy?”

Ryder’s blue eyes narrowed, questioningly. “You need lady-stuff?”

“Among other things.”

“What kinds of things?”

I intentionally cleared my throat. “The kind that might help prevent one of you from, let’s say, becoming a daddy?”

“Oh,” he blinked. “Those kinds of things.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Yah.”

“Alright,” he nodded. “We’ve gotta hurry, though. The storm took a fast, unforeseen turn. The town’s gonna be packed with blizzard people trying to—”

“Did you say blizzard? ”

Ryder’s smile widened. I saw my own childish excitement, reflected in his.

“We don’t use that word lightly up here in the Rockies, either,” he added. “If we really get what they’re actually calling for? We’re going to be snowed in for at least—”

The rest of his sentence echoed against the walls of Sarge’s empty bedroom. I was too busy flying down the stairs, to get my boots and coat.