A storm, a stranger and a secret—Ivy and Nell's cabin on the mountain is about to get crowded.
Ivy and Nell have been able to get along very well without a man, thank you very much. They take care of all the chores, the cooking, and each other—in every way.
But when a sexy stranger blows in with the storm, Nell is curious. Is sex with a man really as bad as Ivy told her it was?
Ivy was just as glad that her husband was considerate enough to disappear, leaving her and Nell to their happy lives, but the stranger brings news that may change everything. Betrayed and angry, Ivy decides that revenge is on the menu, and Dean Rook is just the man to help her out.
General Release Date: 30th November -0001
Ivy braced against the wind to keep the door from slamming open on its hinges while Nell dashed into the cabin and joined her on the other side.
"Push!" Ivy shoved at the heavy door with all her might, and between the two of them they managed to heave it shut. Nell slid the bar into place and the roar of the wind was reduced to a hollow whistling sound around the walls of the cabin. Ivy considered the snow that had blown in along with them.
"Don’t worry about it, Ivy, it’s just water, it’ll dry up on its own," Nell spoke through chattering teeth. She bounced up and down in an effort to kick off a boot, her skirts sprinkling snow farther into the room. "And it isn’t as though we ever have company."
Ivy gave up the thought of keeping a tidy home for the moment and tromped across the floor to stoke up the fire, adding wood until the roaring flame began to warm her frozen cheeks.
"Now that’s cold," Nell said, scooting in next to Ivy, close to the fire. She dropped her mittens on the floor then held her red fingers out towards the heat. Ivy followed suit.
"We’d better get out of these wet things." Ivy began working at the buttons of her long coat with stiff fingers. "We need to warm up."
"Sometime before we have to go out there again," Nell added. She looked over at the door, which rattled a little from the force of the wind.
"At least that won’t be till morning." Ivy lifted her skirt in dismay. It was wet to above her knees, and every movement made the chill and damp touch her legs again. She shivered as she rolled down one of her sopping stockings, hopping on one foot to pull it off her toes, the heavy woollen skirt threatening to tip her over.
Nell laughed. "Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself." She grabbed Ivy’s elbow to steady her. "Let me help." She dropped to her knees with enviable grace, considering she had on just as many wet clothes as Ivy did. Oh, the difference ten years made, Ivy thought, remembering when she’d been just as lithe and flexible.
Nell lifted the hem of Ivy’s skirt. "My goodness, this weighs a ton soaked like this! And you said wool would be warmer."
"It is warmer than what you’re wearing." Nell’s blue cotton dress was wet too, darkened by the melted snow. "It’s just picked up a little more moisture than yours did. Nell!" Ivy shrieked as Nell tucked her hand into the top of her stocking, her icy cold skin touching the soft flesh of Ivy’s thigh. "Your fingers are freezing!"
"I know," Nell said, pulling the wet stocking down despite Ivy’s squirming. "They’re my fingers."
Ivy slid the offending garment off. "Thanks, love," she said, smiling down at Nell. "You’re right, I don’t have the balance for that anymore."
Nell grinned, sitting on her heels amidst Ivy’s discarded stockings. She was like a dark angel in the fire’s glow, with her chocolate hair and eyes. "You have excellent balance, Ivy. Quit talking like an old lady. It’s just this skirt that was tripping you up." Nell rose up on her knees and reached for the buttons, starting at the waistband. By the third button, the weight of the snow, soaked into the wool, pulled the skirt down to pool at Ivy’s feet.
Ivy put her hands on her hips. "You don’t need to undress me, you know. I’m not quite to that level of elderly and infirm."
Nell laughed and gave the skirt a tug. "You’re not elderly and infirm at all, but you are wet and cold. So am I. I just thought maybe we could warm each other up." She tipped her head to the side and caught her full lower lip between her teeth, looking up at Ivy with a twinkle in her eye.
"What about dinner?" Ivy asked, hands still on her hips. "Aren’t you hungry?"
"We can’t eat," Nell said seriously.
"Why not?" Ivy asked, curious what her excuse would be.
"Not until we get out of these wet things. Look at this!" She pointed at Ivy’s white cotton drawers, and Ivy looked down to see they were wet around her knees, the damp fabric clinging to her thighs. "These are positively indecent, wet like that, someone could see right through them. They have to go." Nell was being all drama, and Ivy laughed, stopping her as she reached for the tie.
"Hang on." Ivy shrugged her coat off and laid it near the fire. She picked up the soggy skirt and spread it nearby. The hem closest to the flames immediately started to steam. "What?" she asked, catching Nell’s eye roll. "I want them to be dry by morning and besides, between the fire and you, I’m already feeling much warmer."
Celeste Rupert lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains and (other than the lack of indoor plumbing) would love to live in the Old West. As time travel hasn't yet been invented, she lives in the era through her characters.
Celeste Rupert - Interview for Snowed Under
Why would you like to live in the Old West?
I grew up watching re-runs of Gunsmoke and Bonanza with my aunt, and reading my grandpa’s Louis L’amour books. I loved the adventure and romance of the silver screen west. As an adult, it’s more the idea of carving out a life, homesteading a piece of land with your own two hands that appeals to me…
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