JOHN

There are times when life is real good. We'd settled all our personal guests in rooms and knew that the Inn would be at ninety percent occupancy by ten the next morning. As crazy as it was going to be, I felt pretty great. It was, after all, what Riles and I had been working for. She wanted us to be a winter destination. Well, blessed winter had arrived and the guests were on their way.

As I snuggled in beside my wife I could hear the Stowe municipal plows chugging their way along the road past the Inn. Antony had done one more good run over the access road and parking lot and we were fine. The snow had stopped and the temperature was holding. How great was that? Busy before Thanksgiving.

I couldn't help but think about how well things had gone. Everyone was safe and healthy, except for poor Andy but at least that was manageable. Everyone was comfortable, even those far away. I knew that Colin and Carrie were on their way home, stopped south of New York because of the nasty roads but intending to be in their new house by the end of the week. Those two would probably tie the knot soon. Maximus and Sophia had called, announcing that they'd be here for Thanksgiving, Max's favorite holiday of the year. We guys are starting a pool; how soon are we gonna hear about a baby Meridius? My bet's before Christmas. Pullo was coming too and I wondered why I hadn't mentioned that to Antony. I made a mental note to remember, it might make the grumpy Roman smile. Or not. After all, now he had Claudia, ay? Claudia, who had been in hiding under the sheets with him for what … going on twenty-four hours?

"Uh … Riles?"

"Kitchen will be fine. Andy's coming in to talk with Chef Gillet first thing. Don't worry about it, John."

I grunted, snuggled closer. "Uh … baby?"

"Housekeeping will have the rooms ready by ten. You know these snow hounds, they'll probably just stop by, drop off luggage and head for Mansfield. It'll all work out fine."

"Uh-huh." I buried my face into the back of her neck. "Uh … Riley?"

"John, Natalie will be happy to take care of little T while I help Marla get everyone checked in. Come on, relax, everything will be fine."

"I know, I know, but … Riley." I finally pressed my hips closer, nudging her butt with my aching hard on.

"Oh," she giggled. "Are you trying to tell me you're not worried about anything but getting laid?"

"Yes I am." Fuck, it was good too. The baby slept peacefully in his room and we made love to the absolute silence of a snowy Vermont night. Slow easy love, the kind I knew we might not have time for again until spring.

MEREDITH

There's a reason more Vermont babies are born in September than any other month of the year. Snow. And lots of it! We woke the next morning and took Ruthie out to make a snowmate, Hando's version of a snowman.

After an hour I was frozen solid and I'm sure H was shivering in his shoes. Ruthie was having a grand old time but it didn't take long and her poor little fingers were freezing in her soaked mittens, her face was red from the cold and it was time for mommy to be the bad guy.

"Come on, Ruthie. Time for some hot chocolate."

"No! No! No, no no!"

Her favorite word. Hando and I looked at each other; I just shrugged and went inside. If anyone could get her in it was him. I stood at the kitchen window and watched. Is there anything more touching than a man with his baby girl? I swear I was tearing up as he knelt on the snow and tried to talk with her. He cuddled her, tried to be rational, tried to be mean (not something he's real good at where Ruthie's concerned), then finally did the same thing I did, walking inside and leaving her alone in the fenced in yard.

Together we watched. She played with the snowmate, tried to make a snowball, became frustrated and started to cry. In a heartbeat H was back out there, no coat or anything and sweeping her into his arms. When they got inside she was still protesting, but snuggled deep against his chest as I made cocoa.

I sighed. Was I like her? A holy terror who made my mother crazy? Probably. Why else would I get a child with such a personality? My guess is Hando was a great little kid. The kind who did what he was told until … well, until his mother died and left him all alone at twelve. Not a good time for a boy to be all alone. His grandmother Ruth, wasn't a great disciplinarian as I gather and he was off doing the wrong things at a time when he was far too impressionable to make good choices. Damn, after all that, my H turned out just wonderful; a great husband, fantastic provider and spectacular father. Go figure.

She fell asleep in his arms before she even got a sip of her cocoa. While H put her to bed I straightened the kitchen and continued to wonder about my little fireball of a daughter.

"Do you think she's going to grow up okay?" I asked as he donned fresh thick socks and his boots. The walk needed to be shoveled.

"Why not, love? We turned out fine." He looked up at my concerned expression. "We did, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but we have each other. Before you, I was fucked up, H. Lost. Working at that stinking bar with nothing to look forward to."

"Well," he stood and hugged me tight then chuckled. "Guess we'll have to hope she runs into a crazed skinhead someday too."

"Jesus," I gasped and he kissed me hard. "Do I gotta shovel now? 'Cause I got a few other ideas, ya know."

"I bet you do. But go shovel first. Then I'd really like to talk about choosing a guardian for Ruthie … just in case something happens to us."

"What the bloody hell's gonna happen to us?"

"I don't know. Anything could happen, Hando. Accident. Disease. Anything. I just think it might be a good idea if we choose someone to take care of her … just in case."

"There's another solution, ya know." He zipped his coat and tugged a hat over his head. "We don't let anything happen to us. Period." And he walked out.

Huh. Guess he wasn't ready to think about mortality just yet. But who could blame him. Right now, life was perfect. Ruthie was perfect and most of the family was close by. And besides, with the family we have, so large and extended and loving, maybe I am being silly. There was no way our family would let Ruthie grow up on the streets the way Hando and I had. No way on earth.

I shrugged off my worries and tugged out the recipe books. This year we were all going to help out for the Thanksgiving dinner. Riley had her hands full with the baby and the Inn. Wonder if she'd like sweet potato pie? I can do that, right?

JACK

Finally home. When I entered the lobby my beautiful Natalie leapt for joy, a ponderous leap that somewhat concerned me but her arms tight around my neck soothed my concerns … until I noticed several guests grinning and watching. "My dear, shall we take our affection behind closed doors?" I whispered; she thankfully agreed and we were finally alone.

"Oh Jack, I have missed you!"

"And I have missed you. Come let me look at you. Is it possible the children have grown in one day?" My hand smoothed over her huge belly and again I marveled at the miracle of our twins.

"They seem to grow everyday, roll around like sailors on the waves, switch places, probably fight for position," she giggled and I kissed her tenderly.

"Are you well?"

"I'm wonderful!"

"Yes, my love. You are."

"And how did the trip go? Is everything ready to begin construction in the spring?"

I turned away, avoiding the inevitable confession and carried my luggage to the bedroom. She followed, skipping like a happy child. She abounded with energy I seemed to be completely drained of.

"Jack? Everything work out okay with Kevin?"

Still I could not face her.

"Jack. What did you do?"

"Please, sit my darling Natalie. Please."

"What … did … you do?" she growled, all her good humors gone but she did thankfully sit at the edge of the bed.

"My dear, I have made a few changes."

Her hands clapped onto her face and slid to her chin. "Jack. You promised."

"Yes, yes my love I did. But I have made practical and very special changes I am sure you will approve. Please, look." I scrambled in my bags for the new drawings Kevin had done, quickly unraveling the rolls on the bed beside her, my hands shaking. "Look, my love."

"But you promised."

"Just … look. Please Natalie. If you do not approve they will immediately be restored to the original plans."

She turned her face reluctantly and gazed at the new drawings. Slowly a smile brightened her lovely face and tears welled in her eyes. "Oh Jack! This is beautiful."

"Much like the home you loved in California, I trust?"

"Yes," her fingers followed the lines of the new house and a tear dripped from her chin. "Thank you, Jack. It's perfect now."

"And there will be no more changes, my darling. This is the home we will enjoy for the remainder of our days."

"Yes, oh yes." Her kiss was amazing, thrilling, inviting. I believe that I have finally done the right thing. I truly believe so.

KELLY

I've always thought of myself as someone who was open to new experiences, but snow is far more complicated than I ever could have imagined. I mean, yeah, it's white, cold and pretty but I also learned that it's hard, crunchy, and man, can it ever hurt.

My whole morning was comical. After slipping on a patch of ice on the Inn parking lot (and feeling a little bit like Bambi must have when he was slipping and sliding upon that frozen lake), when I got back to my car, I discovered it had a thick layer of snow across the hood and windshield. I stood and stared at it for a moment before trying to brush the snow aside with my hands. Luckily LizBeth was parked a couple of rows over and having just finished with the cleaning of her own windshield, came over to help me with mine, explaining that what I needed was a scraper. Focusing upon her finely manicured nails as she explained that her particular device was actually heated by batteries, I watched in fascination as she demonstrated the 'proper way to clear snow off a windshield'. Halfway through she turned and handed the device to me and while I was not as graceful as she had been, I managed to scrape away the remaining snow and only broke two fingernails nails in the process. She also suggested that I put chains on my tires as soon as I got home, but that part of the conversation pretty much went over my head. I mean, how does one put chains, of all things, on their tires, for goodness shakes?

After a few giggles and a promise for Jeff and me to join her and Kevin for dinner sometime after Thanksgiving, I began my adventure of heading down the hill on a freshly plowed road. Since it was still early, the traffic heading into town was nominal, but the traffic coming back up the hill was one big caravan of ski rack laden SUVs heading towards the Inn and the promise of packed powder. Knowing that the influx of tourists also meant more visitors to the Inn's gift shop, I was quickly reminded of my own grand opening deadline; it was only days away and I still had so much to do before I was officially ready. This realization caused me to tap down on the accelerator but after I hit a patch of ice and just narrowly missed plowing into the embankment, I was forced to concentrate on the road in front of me and to arrive home safely.

Once I made it back into town, I was again struck by how snow can make just about anything look prettier. From old weather beaten barns to an old car abandoned in a field, everything looked utterly enchanting. However, my feelings of delight and wonder were soon dashed the moment I pulled up in front of my house and the awful realization hit me: did I even own a shovel?

I never even considered that my drive and walkway would be covered with snow. I guess I just assumed there was some cosmic force at work that would have taken care of the matter for me, but I was about to learn a very important lesson. Snow means money to enterprising teenagers, and sure enough within moments of stepping out of my car and assessing the schematics of my dilemma I was approached by a young man that I recognized as my neighbor's son, armed with the strangest looking shovel I had ever seen slung across one shoulder. It actually looked like a giant scoop of some sort. As I quickly tried to remember his name he went right for the direct approach.

"Mornin', Miss O'Grady. Would you like me to shovel the snow for you?"

I quickly sized him up, realizing that he knew my name and that money would most likely be involved. He was about 13, tall and gangly, with cheeks reddened from the cold. "What's your going rate?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Fifty dollars."

"You're kidding." Surely, he must have been.

"No ma'am. That's the standard charge. But I'd be willing to take forty-five, seeing as you're a first timer and all."

"Thirty."

He smiled. "Can't go lower than forty. I'm saving up for Christmas and with the rate of inflation and all …"

I wasn't about to reach for my wallet just yet. "Honey, if you're gonna fleece me, at least tell me your name."

"My name's Daniel. Daniel Harris. I live two doors over." He motioned towards the general direction with a nod of his head. "You know, I also do package deals."

I looked over to where he had indicated and noticed that several neighboring driveways had already been neatly shoveled. "I'll tell you what, Daniel. Go ahead and show me what you can do and when you're finished, come back and get me. If I like your work, we may just have ourselves a deal." Hey, I was all for free enterprise, but if I was going to have to fork out dough for this sort of service, I wanted to make sure I got my money's worth. I also made a mental note to check with some of my neighbors later and see if I was indeed paying the going rate.

He gave another smile as he wiped his nose with the back of his glove before starting in to work. I gingerly trudged my way towards my front door, being extra careful to watch my footing and swearing under my breath only once when I stepped into a deep spot and lost my shoe as I tried to pull my leg free. If Daniel witnessed this, he kept his chuckles to himself.

Taking care not to slip on the porch, I made my way inside and saw my cell phone sitting on one of the shelves, right where I left it. Taking it with me as I headed upstairs I went first to check up on Shalimar. She was curled up with her kittens in their basket in the den, looking none the less for wear. Giving me a sleepy meow in greeting, I saw the kittens Digby and Watson were busy with their morning meal. Their safety ensured, I decided the next task would be to take the plunge and fire up the furnace. The house was freezing!

Standing before the thermostat on the hallway wall I flipped the switch to the 'on' position, turning the control up to 72 degrees. I waited; a couple of seconds later I heard the unmistakable sound of the furnace firing up and as I held my hand up in front of one of the wall vents I felt the soft rush of warm air against my fingertips. The old system worked! I did a little happy dance as I made my way back into the bedroom to change clothes, pressing the play button on my answering machine as I passed.

I heard Jeff's worried messages from yesterday, and tried to ignore the wave of guilt that again washed over me. But following after these was a new message from just a few minutes earlier, and I felt a soft tingle of anticipation come over me as I listened to the sound of his buttery baritone:

Good morning, sweetheart. I just called Riley and she told me you were on your way back into town. I should be home around about noon, providing that I don't get bumped onto another flight. I miss you and hope you'll have something good and hot waiting for me - something to eat would be nice, too. If I have just one more McMeal Deal I think I'm going to keel over. See you soon, and keep warm!

Giggling at his comment I also realized one more thing about snow. It had a delightful effect on romantic endeavors. Oh yeah, I'd have something nice and hot waiting for him.

ANDY

Monna and I were at the Inn at five AM, no sign of Chef Pierre Gillet. I took the clipboard and headed for the dry storage room to do the inventory he had apparently neglected, reminding myself not to be too judgmental about the bloke. He was still new and I was still raw at seeing him take my job. I needed to be fair, then. Right? Righto.

Monica rocked with breakfast and several family members popped in for a g'day before heading back to their own home and hearth. Kinda wished Monna and I hadn't missed the snowed-in sleepover but as it was, we had a rough day ahead … well Monna did. I'd be heading home by noon. Doctor's orders. Fuckin' hated it but had to follow through. It was more likely I could get in five days a week if I kept them light.

Eight AM. Still no Chef Gillet. I buttoned my white jacket and headed out to the breakfast room to check on the guests. They were happy. I went to the front desk to perused the reservations and about an hour later, Antony stopped me, requesting a breakfast tray for him and his new sheila.

"When do I get to meet this lovely lady?" I asked, loading a tray and grinning.

"Perhaps, soon. Perhaps tomorrow. And how are you, Andy?"

Huh? Antony wasn't famous for his kindness around the Inn. Now I really wanted to meet this woman. "I'm good."

"You look well, but do rest when necessary." He leaned close and glared at the closed chef's office door. "That new chef is a fucking bastard."

I couldn't help it; I laughed out loud, something I haven't done in a while. I placed a full carafe of coffee on the tray. "Enjoy your brekkie, mate."

I checked the clock. Ten fifteen. "He just get in?" Monna nodded and continued working. I went to the door and knocked politely.

"Get the fuck away from my door and do your job!" the thick French accent shouted. I turned a grin at my wife then slid my key into the lock. Just stood at the opened door. "And who the fuck are you?" he growled then returned his attention to the computer screen displaying a losing game of spider solitaire.

"Your bloody boss," I answered and quick as hell the screen went black.

"Ah … Chef Andy … forgive me. Do come in."

I entered and glared at him, hoping to sit at my fuckin' desk but he just glared back. "I have been struggling with this terrible, boring menu, hoping to bring it to a quality I can tolerate. I am sure you understand."

Before I could open my mouth, Riley walked in and plopped into one of the guest chairs. "Pierre, would you mind getting up and giving Chef Andy his seat, please." Leave it to Riles to set the tone. This was not gonna be pleasant. I shifted in the crowded space and finally settled into my comfy chair.

The bloody prick continued with his opinions about the Inn, the kitchen and the menu until I thought Riley would explode, but she held her own, sat quiet and watched me. What was she expecting me to do? What I wanted to do and what I could do … well those were two very different things.

"Ah, Chef?" Monica stood at the door and spoke quietly. All three of us answered.

"Um, Chef Gillet." The fucker looked at her and scowled.

"Go do your job and leave me alone! Can you not see I am in an important meeting? Close the door behind you."

"Chef there is an issue in the -"

The bastard shot a glare at Riley. "Can you not hire one competent person?" He huffed and walked out to address whatever problem had come up.

I kicked the door closed. In less than fifteen minutes he had insulted the Inn, my staff, my menu and my wife!

Riley sighed. "Your honest opinion."

I slid my finger across my throat.

"Oh goodie!" she squealed and left, taking Pierre Gillet's pristine, unused knife bag and coat with her.

Bloody hell, what had I done? When she returned I called Monica to join us. "We are so bloody fucked. What are we gonna do now? Eighty three guests arriving today and no executive chef." I was starting to panic.

Riley explained that she'd handle the load until a new chef could be found and I could just imagine how many vessels were gonna pop in John's neck when he heard that.

"What about the baby?" I asked.

"I'll work it all out, just don't worry about it. You're supposed to go home soon and I don't want you worrying about anything." But I could see the terror in her eyes.

"Uh … Chef Andy?"

We all looked up at a bloke standing at my door. "Yeah?"

He reached his hand to me. "Name's Christopher Hopkins. Just moved to Vermont from Manhattan. I was the executive chef at the Four Seasons for eight years and I'm looking for a job."

"You're hired. When can you start?" I was only half joking. He handed Riley his resume and talked with us for only ten minutes before Riley repeated my statement.

Chef Chris glanced out the door. "I can start right now if someone has a clean jacket. Got my knives in the car." His smile was happy and refreshing after the French dictator. "All I need after work is to find a place to live."

Riley shook his hand. "Leave that one to me, Chef Chris. And welcome, welcome, welcome aboard. You are a Godsend!"

"Can I see the menu and have about ten minutes to check out the cooler, freezer and dry storage, then another five to meet the staff. After that, we'll all be just fine." He turned to Monica. "I understand you're my Sous Chef. I'm looking forward to working with you. Let's get started."

Fuck all, I was bloody relieved but I gotta admit … that Chef Chris Hopkins was a good lookin' bloke. Wasn't sure how much I liked my wife working closely with him. Of course, Riles thought that was funny.

JEFF

I've always enjoyed snow. Growing up in New York it had been a regular part of my childhood, and as I drove back into town from Burlington I felt a wave of nostalgia overtake me. Granted, I wasn't about to strap on a pair of skis any time soon, nor would I be engaging in any snowball fights, but I reflected back to when snow was more about being fun than burdensome. I remembered how as a kid every year I prayed for it to snow hard enough so that school would close; now those were the days. My mom would have a big pot of soup or chili on the stove all day and it always tasted so good after coming in from a day spent tearing around on sleds with my friends. I didn't even mind shoveling our walkway; my friends and I were pretty much the ruling gang of the neighborhood, and we'd go in groups from house to house and offer our services for a nominal fee. It kept us in pocket change throughout the winter and I always had some extra money for baseball cards or comic books. Life at that time was rather simple and yet quite grand.

Life now was, well … on the upswing. Now that I had this notion of returning to teaching in some capacity, I felt as if I had a little more focus. Don't misunderstand - it had nothing to do with my satisfaction with Kelly and everything to do with the fact that even though I had officially retired, I realized how much free time I was about to have on my hands. Kelly had her shop and while I was more than willing and happy to help her in any way I could, I still needed something that was inherently mine. I had the nucleus of an idea brewing and was anxious to get back to town and research the particulars.

When I finally pulled up in front of Kelly's house, I was happy to see that someone had shoveled her driveway. I only hoped she didn't get taken, remembering with more than a hint of embarrassment my own childhood entrepreneurial ruthlessness. Parking my car just behind hers I headed up the walk, thinking that what the front of her house needed was a few twinkle lights. They would make the whole place stand out and resemble a gingerbread cottage - what better way to attract tourist attention and dollars?

The aroma of something warm and wonderful on the stove upstairs wafted down the stairwell and encircled me in a vapor of garlic and peppers, causing a smile of anticipation. My smile grew even bigger when I opened up the door and found Kelly snuggled up on the couch, listening to Christmas carols with the cats curled up on a blanket at her feet. And the furnace was on!

"Isn't it just a little bit early for Christmas music?"

"You're home!" The look in her eyes and the smile on her face was a fine enough welcome for any man. She jumped off the couch and charged at me, throwing her arms around my neck and planting me firmly with a big welcome home kiss.

"Gawd, I missed you!"

"Honey, it's good to be home." I kissed her back and gave her a hug. "Let me change clothes and I'll tell you all about my trip."

She reluctantly let go, but followed after me into the bedroom, giving me a rundown of the events from last night and this morning. "I have so much to tell you … I need to get a scraper for my windshield and LizBeth told me that I should put chains on my tires and …"

"Ah, good thing you're in the mood to discuss practical matters." I suddenly remembered the list of to do items that I had jotted down during the plane ride back and went to retrieve them from my coat pocket. "I have a few things that I need to show you, and the main one on the list is how to install tire chains."

"Show me how to install tire chains? Can't I just go to Hando's shop and pay one of the guys to take care of it?" The puzzled look on her lovely face was priceless.

"Honey, you live in a place where it snows and you're not just passing through. Knowing how to install tire chains is just as important as knowing how to change your own tires or motor oil."

"Why would I need to know how to do that when I can pay someone to do it for me?"

"You've never changed a tire?" I couldn't help but smile. This was going to be fun.

"Why would I? I have Triple A roadside service."

"Triple A is too busy helping stranded tourists. I'll show you how to do it, and then won't have to worry so much about you when you're out driving in this weather."

"Do we have to do it today?"

I saw the look of panic in her eyes. "No. But tomorrow, first thing." Sitting back on the bed, I pulled her down across me. "I have a better idea on how to spend our time this afternoon."

"Will I break any more nails?" She held out her hand for effect, obviously still thinking about the tire chains.

I silenced her with another kiss and soon we were generating our own brand of heat. Tire chains could wait. Ah, yes … I do love the snow.

ANTONY

We finished the delicious morning meal Andy had prepared for us and I lulled beside my beautiful naked woman. My desires were to ravish her … again … but my mind had begun a journey along the path of possibilities.

"Claudia?"

"Yes Antony," she grinned.

"What are your plans?"

"This afternoon?"

"Well, yes, we may begin with this afternoon, as I fear I will be very occupied with the influx of guests."

"Well," she shifted, propped her head in her hand and leaned to kiss my lips. "This afternoon I will be visiting Meredith. Hando is coming to pick me up but I'll be coming back after dinner."

"I will come for you. Now, Claudia. What are you plans after that?" My brow curled and she ran a tender fingertip along to smooth it.

"After I make passionate love to you?"

"Yes, after that … and for the rest of your life. What are your plans?"

"Ah," she flopped back onto the pillow and gazed at the ceiling. "After that, I've got no plans, Antony. None whatsoever."

"Ah … then I shall make them for you." I crawled slowly over her, entering her gently until I was as deeply penetrated as possible. Then I stilled and spoke softly, easily. "Claudia, you will remain in Vermont. Continue to be my cherished lover until you accept the dubious position of being my cherished wife. You will choose work that befits your extraordinary skills and you will be blissfully," I began a slow rocking motion, thrusting calmly to a rhythm I had already come to know as most pleasant to her, "blessedly," accelerating then slowing, breathing evenly and with control, "completely happy for the rest of your days." After I had exploded within her depths, calmed my erratic breath and clasped her close to my heart I kissed her tenderly. "Will you choose this with me?"

She smiled, touched my lips then kissed me again. "I may be insane for saying this but yes, I most certainly will choose this with you. I think you may be right about my work. I have always wanted to start my own private nursing business. In this place alone I can see several I can help. Andy most definitely can use some guidance through his health issues. I would love to speak with Bridgid about midwife services once she's full term."

"And the Captain's wife? Natalie?"

"Oh no, Antony. She must have special care. It would be dangerous for her to use a midwife, twins can be sticky business."

"I see. And me? Will you cure my empty heart?"

"I will try. I swear I will do my best."

RILEY

What a day! Nine PM and finally the Inn was quieting. A few skiers were down in the pub but the lobby was silent, the rooms filled. I reviewed the bookings and grinned. In twenty four hours we'd eliminated the French dictator and hired the perfect executive chef; served breakfast, lunch and a strong dinner; filled almost every room and probably made more money than we had all summer. Glancing at the register list I turned to Marla as she tugged on her boots to go home.

"Hey sweetie, thanks for sticking around. For being a good sport, you get Saturday and Sunday off."

"Right," she chuckled.

"Um … Marla? Did Terry and Bridgid check out today?"

"Nope. I saw the kitchen take meals up there but never saw hide nor hair of either of them."

"Oh Jesus," I gasped. "Did we really put them in room seventeen?"

"Yeah, why … oh damn … I completely forgot. Do you think they remembered?"

Did I think Terry and Bridgid remembered the very room they saved my life in? The day I was kidnapped? The day Terry killed that man? The day he needed her so badly nothing could have saved him but her touch? Oh fucking hell yes, I think they remembered … and I hoped there was a good reason they hadn't left the Inn yet.