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

experience with Michael color my opinions on
relationships? It was a thought that made me squirm.
    “Anybody in New Orleans?” he asked next, studying me.
    I thought about Zach Howard and cringed. “Nope, nobody.”
    “That new pastor dude is pretty cool, don’t you think?”
    I feigned ignorance. “Who?”
    Sam just laughed at me. “I saw a little eye action going on last
night.”
    “Did not.”
    “Did, too. He asked you out, didn’t he?”
    “I hardly call having cocoa with the family asking me out.
Besides, it completely fizzled. End of story.”
    “Nope, beginning of story. He was concerned about you. I could
tell. He kept looking at you. Like a lot.”
    Those annoying prickly feelings were running rampant down my neck
and legs. Even my fingers were twitching now.
    “Believe me, I am not interested in a pastor. And won’t ever
be.”
    My brother laughed again. “What’s wrong with a pastor? Pastor John
is pretty cool.”
    I made a noise in my throat. “If you don’t set his outhouse on
fire.”
    “No way. You serious?”
    “Drop the subject,” I said with a sugary smile. “You ready to go?”
    “But we’re not done with Pastor what’s-his-name.”
    “I’m done.”
    Sam crumpled up the wrapping to his burger and stuffed it in the
empty basket. “I’m trying to picture you and Pastor Dude getting married. I
gotta tell you – I’m seeing it. I am.”
    His eyes glittered with mischief.
    “You are so full of it. There is no way I would ever marry some
religious guy. I swore off religion when Michael died.”
    “Only because you’re mad at God.”
    “I think an alien is now inhabiting your body.”
    My brother didn’t crack a smile. He was dead serious. “I mean it,
Jess. You keep crying and getting mad at everyone, walking around like somebody
should shoot you, but it’s only because you’re mad at yourself. And you’re mad
at God for taking Michael and messing up your life.”
    “It sounds so selfish when you put it like that.”
    “Not selfish. Just sad. Because it doesn’t have to be that way.”
    “What books are you reading? You sound like Dad.”
    “I am his offspring.”
    “I’ll take your advice into account,” I said, feeling irritated, but
knowing I shouldn’t be. “And if you eat any more of those cookies in the car,
I’ll snitch on you. Although they’re probably still completely frozen in a
frigid car.”
    As we pulled into the church parking lot the new billboard read: Church Parking Only: Violators will be
Baptized.
    “Too late,” I muttered as I set the brake. “Here goes nothing.”
    “You nervous?” Sam asked, picking up the plate and eyeing it.
    “No, why should I be?”
    “Pastor Dude standing by the door.”
    My stomach lurched. “I’m not nervous at all,” I said, snapping
open the door latch. “Just surprised.”
    As we approached the side door, James Douglas was shoveling snow,
scraping underneath where it had iced up.
    “How about some frozen cookies to go with your frozen sidewalk?” I
said brightly, ignoring the peculiar fluttering in my chest. I would not be
overwhelmed by this guy. He was a stranger. He meant nothing.
    James stopped, leaning on his shovel when he caught sight of us across
the parking lot. Those blue eyes zinged me and a can of imaginary soda seemed
to fizz right up my stomach. Darn him anyway!
    “I’d love some,” he said in that deep voice.
    “Well,” I amended. “They’re really for Pastor John. From my mom.
You know.”
    “Ah, I see.”
    I could tell he was trying not to smile. I widened my eyes into a
glare. “No need to laugh at me. I’m just an obedient daughter.”
    “I wasn’t laughing, and I’m sure you are a very obedient daughter.”
    He stated the opinion in a voice that told me just the opposite. “Then
you’re amused.”
    He nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right. But in a totally good
way.”
    I tried not to blush. “You vocabulary sounds like you just arrived
from