“I want to go out with you.”

Eric smiled as he made his announcement.

A tiny, perfect V creased Alina’s forehead as she studied him. “You know I have to return to Croatia in the middle of January.”

The reminder sent a stab of pain through his chest. “We’ve got almost three months until then.”

“So…we go out for three months, and then I leave?”

Did she have to state things so bluntly? He much preferred to pretend January would never get here. “We could have a lot of fun in that time,” he said. “You could go home with some good memories.”

“You’re promising me good memories?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement, teasing him.

He leaned closer, and put his hand at her waist. “We could make some very good memories,” he whispered.

Dear Reader,

I think Christmas is the most romantic time of year—more romantic, even, than Valentine’s Day. After all, the whole idea behind Christmas is love, and this has translated into acts such as gift giving, and getting together with family and friends. As well as acts of charity and thinking of those less fortunate.

Christmas is so romantic to me that I was married at Christmastime. Instead of orange blossoms and roses, the church was decorated with evergreens, poinsettia and a Christmas tree. My husband and I celebrate our anniversary only a few days before Christmas each year, and the festive atmosphere only adds to our joy.

So when I was given the opportunity to write a Christmas romance, I was thrilled. Crested Butte, Colorado, with its small-town charm, snow and multiple Christmas trees, seemed the perfect romantic setting for this story. Alina and Eric come from different backgrounds and even different countries, but they’ve both found a home in Colorado. As they learn about each other’s holiday customs, they see how their differences can add variety and interest to their relationship and how the love they share can bring them together.

I hope you enjoy reading their story. I love to hear from readers. Write to me at Cindi@CindiMyers.com or in care of Harlequin Enterprises Ltd., 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.

Happy reading,

Cindi Myers

Her Christmas Wish
Cindi Myers

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cindi Myers’s favorite holiday is Christmas. She loves the decorations, the gifts and especially the food. Her idea of a romantic evening is sipping spiked eggnog, eating Christmas cookies and sitting with her honey admiring the lit Christmas tree while snow falls outside. Christmas carols are optional, but there should definitely be mistletoe.

For Muna

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Don’t look now, but there’s a really hot guy watching you.”

“Oh?” Alina Allinova started to turn and scan the crowd gathered for the culmination of Crested Butte’s Vinotok fall festival.

Her friend Marissa Alvarez put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Don’t look. He’s staring right at us.” She giggled. “Really, he can’t take his eyes off you. It’s like he’s in love with you.”

Alina’s stomach fluttered. The idea of a handsome stranger falling instantly in love with her was preposterous, but wonderfully romantic and exciting. The kind of thing she’d fantasized about, though she’d never admit it out loud. “If you won’t let me look at him, at least tell me what he looks like,” she said. “Is he blond?”

“No, not blond. His hair is brown.”

“Oh.” Not that it really mattered…“Maybe it’s that dark blond that looks brown in a certain light. Is he a big guy?”

Marissa shook her head. “Not that big. And his hair is a very dark brown, almost black.”

Alina turned all the way around and caught the eye of the stranger.

Her heart sped up again. Okay, he was good-looking. Dark brown hair fell across his forehead, above a pair of eyes the color of roasted coffee beans that seemed to stare right through her. When their gazes met, he smiled, revealing perfect white teeth against his olive skin.

“Girl, how are you even standing here with a man watching you like that?” Marissa whispered. “I’d be melting right into the ground if a gorgeous guy ever looked at me that way.”

The man took a step toward them. Alina immediately whirled around, embarrassed to be caught staring.

Marissa grabbed her arm. “Why are you turning away? Hello? The man is hot.”

Alina didn’t have time to explain. Mr. Gorgeous was by her side. “Hi, I’m Eric Sepulveda,” he said, offering his hand.

Alina went wobbly in the knees when he took her hand, and immediately felt ridiculous. “Alina Allinova,” she said, and withdrew her fingers from his, though the warmth of his touch lingered on her skin.

“Where are you from, Alina?” he asked. “Not from around here, I’m guessing.”

That smile again, which sent her stomach fluttering wildly. Get a grip, girl. “I’m from Gunnison,” she said. She said it merely to be contrary—she knew that wasn’t what he’d meant. Her accent gave her away as a foreigner as soon as she opened her mouth, though people couldn’t always place her country of origin.

“Are you a student at the college?” he asked.

“No, I’m a respiratory therapist at Gunnison Valley Hospital.”

“Then I can’t believe I haven’t see you before. I’m over there all the time.”

She arched one eyebrow. “What brings you to the hospital so much?” Did he have an ill family member? He certainly looked healthy enough. He wasn’t that tall—maybe five ten or so—but he had muscular shoulders and a slim waist.

He laughed, a completely masculine sound that served only to stoke the fire of her libido. “No, I’m a paramedic,” he said. “We make fairly regular runs to GVH.”

“I work on the floor.” She was occasionally called upon to treat a patient in the E.R., but she’d never run into Eric before. She wouldn’t have forgotten him if she had.

The crowd surged around them, forcing them closer together. Someone behind her bumped into her and Eric put out his hand to steady her. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him, aware of the strength and warmth in his grip, catching a whiff of the subtle spice of his cologne. What in the world was happening to her? She hadn’t even had anything to drink tonight, yet she felt giddy and a little out of control.

“Where are you from before you came to Gunnison?” Eric asked.

“Croatia. In Maksimer, part of the capital, Zagreb.” She savored the names on her tongue, the familiar sounds of home that she didn’t have the chance to say too often.

“I hear Croatia’s a beautiful country,” he said.

At least he hadn’t asked if all the girls in Croatia were as beautiful as her, or said there must be something in the water there or some similar line, all of which she’d heard multiple times from college students, ski bums and various local Lotharios. The women in her family were generally considered beauties, so she’d dealt with her fair share of attention all her life. As a result, she appreciated a little originality from any man who was interested in her.

Trying not to stare, she checked his hair again. No way he’d ever been close to blond.

The crowd roared with laughter, and Alina turned to see one of the characters in the closing play—some guy in pink tights and doublet—in the throes of an overly dramatic death scene while a man in a dragon suit nearby did a jig.

“Have you been to Vinotok before?” Eric asked, his mouth very close to her ear.

“No,” she answered, eyes still focused on the players, though every part of her was aware of the man standing so close. “I read in the paper that this was based on an old Yugoslavian wine festival, so I wanted to see if anything about it was familiar.” At his puzzled look, she hastened to explain, “Croatia used to be part of Yugoslavia.”

Eric glanced at the actors. A woman with a dozen or so small children gathered about her was speaking. “Do they do this kind of thing in Croatia?” he asked.

Alina laughed. “No. We have a lot of local celebrations in my country, but nothing like this.” A man dressed entirely in green, his skin painted green, as well, joined the woman with all the children.

“Crested Butte is kind of known for originality when it comes to holidays,” Eric said.

Alina nodded. In the eight months she’d lived in Gunnison, Colorado, she and friends had made numerous trips to the smaller mountain town to ski, hike, bike or enjoy the shops and restaurants on the picturesque main street. The people were friendly, the scenery beautiful and there was always something to do and see.

A collective sigh rose from the crowd, and Alina stood on tiptoe, attempting to see what all the fuss was about. The man in green was kneeling before the woman, who stared at him, a stunned look on her face.

“Isn’t that romantic?” Marissa said. “He’s proposing!”

“I bet that’s a first for Vinotok,” Eric said.

The woman pulled the man to his feet and kissed him. The crowd roared and cheered, and behind the happy couple a large papier-mâché figure burst into flame.

“What is that?” Alina asked.

“That’s the Grump,” Eric said. “For the past couple of weeks there have been boxes in stores and restaurants all over town. People write down their complaints and gripes and anything they want out of their lives. Then the boxes are stuffed inside the Grump and burned so that everyone starts winter with a clean slate. It’s a good idea when you think about it.”

She nodded. The man and woman were still kissing. Alina couldn’t help feeling a little envious. Not that she didn’t have a good life, but something was still missing—romance, love, the happily ever after she’d dreamed of since she was a girl, the life she’d been promised.

Music blared. The actor in the pink doublet was playing an electric guitar and other musicians had joined him. Alina and Eric were pushed to the edge of the crowd by others who surged forward to dance. Alina looked around for Marissa and spotted her with a lanky intern on whom Marissa had a crush—the real reason the two friends had headed to Vinotok in the first place, since the intern had told them that afternoon he expected to attend.

“Do you ski?” Eric asked when they were far enough from the noise and clamor to talk.

“Ski? Oh, yes.” A ski pass was part of her employee benefits in the exchange program between American and Eastern European hospitals. “Yes, I love to ski.”

“That’s terrific. I’m a ski patroller at Crested Butte Mountain Resort.”

“I thought you said you were a paramedic.”

“I do both. The jobs go together when you think about it.” He had a really nice smile—good teeth and a dimple on the right side of his mouth.

But more than looks drew her to Eric. When his coffee-brown eyes looked into hers, she felt a tug on her heart—a not at all unpleasant sensation. If he could make her feel this way with one look, what else might lay in store for them? She couldn’t remember the last time a man had held her attention this way.

“I’m from Gunnison, too,” he said. “My family has lived there for years.”

“Do you live with your parents?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ve thought about getting a place of my own, but it’s expensive, and I’d be over there all the time anyway. I guess some people think it’s weird, a guy my age still living at home.”

“How old are you?” He looked about her age, but it was tough to tell sometimes.

“Twenty-six.”

“I’m almost twenty-seven.”

There was no mistaking the electricity arcing between them. She couldn’t account for this kind of instant connection. It didn’t happen outside of books and movies, did it?

“I think it’s great that you’re close to your family,” she said. “If I was in Croatia, I’d still live with my parents. It’s expected in our culture that children stay at home until they marry. And as you say, it’s practical, too. Housing is expensive.”

“Do you have a big family? Brothers and sisters?”

“Two sisters. They’re both married now, so only my mother and father and Aunt Oksana are left at home.” Which wasn’t where she grew up anyway, but a new apartment in downtown Zagreb.

“I have two older sisters,” Eric said. “And four older brothers.”

“Seven children!” Families so large were rare in Croatia.

“Yeah, it’s a big bunch. Of course, they’re all married and out of the house now, most of them with kids of their own, so it’s just my mom and dad and grandmother and me at home. But we’re a pretty close bunch, so at least one of my brothers or sisters and their families are over almost every day.”

“That’s nice.” Alina felt a pang of homesickness. She missed her own family. On holidays all the women gathered to prepare a big meal and gossip. From the time she could walk she and her sisters were welcomed into this exclusive female territory. They’d be given simple, menial chores like sorting beans or filling salt cellars and would sit for hours, enthralled by the stories, jokes and gossip of the older women. She missed that warm camaraderie, that feeling of being part of a special group, of sharing a family history that went back for centuries.

Those holidays in the family kitchen were when her grandmother Fania had first told her about the blond man she’d one day marry—the one she’d been waiting in vain for all these years.

When Alina was fifteen, her grandmother had announced one morning that she had dreamed Alina’s future. No one was surprised at this; Baka Fania was known for her ability to predict the future. She had been born with a caul, or a veil of tissue, over her face and had gypsy blood on her grandmother’s side—to everyone’s way of thinking, it would have been more surprising if she hadn’t been able to see things before they happened.

“What kind of future did you see for me?” Alina asked.

“I saw a big blond man, very handsome.” The old woman grinned. “He is the key to your future happiness. Find this man and all will be well.”

Alina had been looking for the big blond ever since.

“How long have you been in the United States?” Eric asked.

“Almost a year. I came as part of an exchange program for skilled technicians between Croatian hospitals and hospitals in the United States.”

Her parents had been horrified when she told them she’d signed up for the program. “No one else in our family has been to the United States,” her mother had scolded. “Why do you need to go?”

“I want to see what it’s like. To meet new people.” Not to mention she’d already dated every eligible man in their small town at least once and none of them had sparked any real feelings in her. Her sisters were happily married with homes of their own, and Alina wanted that, too. Since she hadn’t found the man of her dreams in her hometown, she reasoned it was time to be a little more daring and try something new. Some place new.

But she only had three and a half months left before her work visa expired, and her dream man had so far failed to materialize.

Maybe Baka Fania had been wrong. Or maybe old-time prophecy didn’t apply in the twenty-first century.

“Some friends and family are getting together tomorrow afternoon for a barbecue at my house,” Eric said. “You should come.”

She started to say no. With only a few months left in the States, she had no business starting anything with a new man, no matter how handsome he was. But Eric’s smile made her forget common sense and she found herself nodding. “Yes, I’d like that,” she said.

“Great.” He patted his pockets. “Do you have a piece of paper? I’ll write down the address.”

She searched her purse until she found a flyer about upcoming emergency training at the hospital and handed it to him. He scribbled an address and a few lines of directions. “It’s really easy to find,” he said. “Show up around two. It’s going to be fun.”

“All right.” It would be nice to get to know him better.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again,” Eric said, his eyes locked to hers.

She nodded, struck dumb by the intensity of his gaze and surprised at the strength of her attraction to someone who was so unlike the man of her dreams.

ERIC LINGERED SO LONG at the Vinotok celebration he was almost late for his shift with Gunnison Valley Emergency Medical Services. As he clipped on his radio, his friend Maddie Ansdar emerged from the office. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up,” she said.

“I stopped by Vinotok,” he said.

“How did it go?”

“Silly as usual. Zephyr stole the show with his turn as Sir Hapless.”

“What about Max?” Maddie asked. “Wasn’t he the Green Man?”

“I thought so, but Jack Crenshaw took his place—and then proposed to Tanya Bledso, right there in front of the burning Grump.”

“How romantic!” Maddie’s expression took on the soft, goopy look women wore at the mention of weddings, babies or other such subjects. Eric’s sisters were no different. And Maddie was probably more susceptible than most, since she’d been married only a few months to Eric’s fellow ski patroller, Hagan Ansdar.

“It’s crazy if you ask me,” Eric said. “What if she’d turned him down?”

“He must have been pretty sure she wouldn’t,” Maddie said. “Besides, women like men who take risks, didn’t you know that?” She grinned.

“And here I thought it was just my ski patrol uniform that attracted them.”

“Hey, Eric, Maddie.” Marty Padgett, one of their coworkers, strolled in. Over six feet tall with unruly blond curls, Marty had the sweet, round face of a cupid on a wrestler’s body.

“Hey, Marty, how’s it going?” Eric asked.

“I’m beat.” Marty sank into a chair at the table in the center of the employee locker room. “I was up late studying last night. Greek and Hebrew.” He made a face. “I’m terrible at languages.”

“I have a cousin who’s a priest,” Eric said. “He’s always studying. Very brainy.”

Marty looked even more unhappy. “I really just want to preach and help people,” he said. “I never thought getting a divinity degree would be so hard.”

“If you need to hide back in the ambulance bay and study, we won’t tell,” Maddie said. “If you’re lucky, it’ll be a slow night.”

Marty shook his head. “A Saturday night? Not likely. I’m off tomorrow. I’ll study then.”

“You’re both coming to my house tomorrow afternoon, right?” Eric asked.

“Sorry. Hagan and I both have to work,” Maddie said.

“I’ll be there,” Marty said. “I’ll hit the books after.”

“Good. There’s somebody I want you to meet.”

“Oh?” Maddie looked at him curiously.

Marty laughed. “It’s a woman, right? I can tell by your voice.”

“Alina Allinova.” Her name had a musical quality that delighted him. “A little Croatian respiratory therapist from the hospital. I met her at Vinotok tonight.”

“I know the one you’re talking about,” Marty said. “Very pretty. Sexy voice, too.”

“You’ve talked to her?” Eric felt a pinch of jealousy. Everybody liked Marty—especially women. They were always hanging on him and flirting with him, though he always said he was too busy with school and work to date much.

“Just in passing. She seems nice.”

“Croatian, huh?” Maddie said. “How did she end up in Gunnison?”

“Some exchange program with the hospital.”

“And you just met her tonight and persuaded her to come to your family’s party?” She laughed. “You work fast.”

“We really hit it off,” he said. He didn’t know how to explain what had happened: one minute he’d been laughing at Zephyr’s antics and the Vinotok play, the next he’d spotted Alina in the crowd. Everything around him had faded—his sight became fuzzy, sounds muted—as he stared at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She wasn’t supernaturally gorgeous, the way a fashion model or actress might be, but the petite brunette with the heart-shaped face and violet eyes glowed with an inner beauty that drew him like a magnet. Though he rarely had trouble talking to anyone, he’d been a little tongue-tied around her at first. But when she’d smiled at him, his nervousness had evaporated.

“You really are into this girl, aren’t you?” Maddie grinned at him. “I’ve never see you like this.”

Eric blinked, and worked to assume an expression of indifference. “She’s cute, and I think she misses her family in Croatia, so I thought she’d enjoy hanging out with mine for an afternoon. That’s all.”

That’s all he could afford to think anyway. He liked Alina and looked forward to spending more time with her, but no matter how great she was, he wasn’t going to get serious about her.

As if reading his thoughts, Maddie asked, “Does she know you’re going to be a doctor?”

“We didn’t really talk that long.” He didn’t start medical school until next fall anyway. What were the odds he’d still be seeing Alina then? He’d never dated any other girl that long, but the thought that he and Alina might not last sent a pang of sadness through him.

“Your parents still giving you a hard time about that?” Marty asked. “Should I not bring it up at the barbecue?”

“Don’t bring it up.” The good mood Eric had brought to work was evaporating as he thought of his murky future. “It’s not that they don’t want me to be a doctor—they’re worried I can’t afford it.” Immigrants who had raised their standard of living while avoiding debt, Eric’s parents thought he was aiming too high.

He couldn’t get serious about a woman right now. He had to concentrate on his studies and medical training. Once all that was out of the way in eight or nine years he could think about settling down.

“Alina and I are just going to hang out, have a little fun,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Love isn’t all about timing and planning,” Maddie said. “We can’t always predict the future.”

“I know exactly what my future is going to look like,” Eric said. “The same as my parents’ and my brothers’ and sisters’ before me—I’ll marry a nice girl from the neighborhood, have a bunch of great kids, though maybe not as many as my parents, and spend my weekends playing ball with the children, barbecuing in the backyard and working on projects around the house.”

“Sounds nice,” Marty said.

“It will be nice. It’s a good life. But first I have to get through med school and internships.” When he was Dr. Sepulveda, his family would see he’d made the right decision.

Maddie rolled her eyes.

“What?” Eric asked.

“You guys,” she said. “You’ve got everything all neatly planned out, but life doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes the right person comes along when you least expect it.”

“Like you and Hagan,” Eric said.

“Well…neither one of us was interested in getting married and planning a future together when we first met,” she said.

“What changed your mind?” Marty asked.

“I guess love did. We went from not wanting to think about the future, to being unable to imagine one without each other.”

“You’re reading way too much into this,” Eric protested. “I saw a girl I liked and invited her to a barbecue. That’s it.”

“I’m just saying, you can never be sure about these things,” Maddie said. “I’ve never seen you this excited about a girl you just met.”

“You haven’t known me that long, either.” Yes, he was attracted to Alina, and he wanted to know her better, but no way was he ready to settle down. He and Alina could have some fun together, and right now, that was all he needed.

Chapter Two

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to come with you?” Marissa asked as she and Alina headed toward Eric’s house Sunday afternoon. “After all, I wasn’t invited.”

Alina checked the directions Eric had scribbled down for her and flipped on her right blinker. “I can’t go to a barbecue at a strange house, with people I don’t even know, alone,” she said.

“I guess not.” Marissa nibbled her lower lip. “Do you think there will be other cute guys there?”

“How should I know?” Alina made the turn, then slowed, reading street signs. Fall had come to the Gunnison Valley in a blaze of yellow, orange and red. Aspens and cottonwoods painted the landscape in fiery color, and already scarecrows and pumpkins and other decorations were beginning to show up on front porches.

Eric’s neighborhood was one of older, comfortable homes, mixed with newer residences. Children played in front yards and raced bicycles down the street. Alina smiled at a dark-haired little boy who waved at her from the end of his driveway.

“Maybe Eric has brothers who are even better-looking than he is,” Marissa said. “Though that’s hard to imagine. The man is hot.” She made a show of fanning herself.

“He’s okay,” Alina said. Her grandmother would have warned she’d be struck down by lightning for telling such a lie.

“Okay?” Marissa laughed. “Croatia must be full of amazing men if Eric only rates okay.”

“Maybe Eric is a little more than okay.” A thrill raced through her at the words. Eric was most definitely special if her initial attraction to him was any measure. If he were blond getting together with him would make a better story, considering Baka Fania’s prophecy, but then, life seldom worked out so neatly.

Alina told herself she was too modern to believe in old superstitions, but doubt pinched at her whenever she thought of her dear grandmother. Baka Fania had never been wrong about any of her predictions. She had foreseen each of Alina’s sisters’ husbands: the big Russian her eldest sister, Radinka, had wed, and the redheaded Scottish businessman her other sister, Zora, had married. Zora had laughed when Baka Fania had announced she would spend the rest of her life with a redhead. Very few Croatians had red hair. “Besides, I hate redheads,” she’d protested.

But the very next year, Baen McKay had come to town, and Zora had known immediately that he was the one. “You can’t fight what was meant to be,” she told everyone, and they all agreed that happiness could be found if you paid attention to Baka’s predictions.

If Baka Fania said Alina’s husband would be blond, where did that leave handsome, charming, dark-haired Eric Sepulveda?

It left him safe, she decided. She wasn’t going to marry Eric, only have a little fun.

“I think you missed the turn.”

“What?” Alina snatched the directions from Marissa’s hand and studied them. “It says to turn on Clarkson,” she said.

“Clarkson is about a block behind us.” Marissa pointed behind them.

Grumbling to herself, Alina turned the car around and headed back. She knew the right house the moment she turned onto the street, which was crowded with cars, trucks and vans on either side of the low brick ranch on the left side of the cul-de-sac. She pulled her compact car into a space half a block away and shut off the engine.

“Maybe we should have brought something with us,” she said as she studied the people who streamed into the house. Many of them carried coolers or covered bowls or platters.

“It’ll be okay,” Marissa said. “There are lots of people here. I bet they’ll have plenty.” She opened the door, but when Alina didn’t move, she paused. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to come in?”

“I’m a little nervous, that’s all.” Ever since they’d set out this morning, a curious energy had raced through her body, leaving every sense hyperalert. She couldn’t shake the feeling that today was really important—the kind of day that could change her life forever. Marissa might not understand, but Alina came from a family that respected intuition. When you had a grandmother who was known as a seer, people in her culture took it for granted you had a few gifts of your own.

“Come on,” Marissa said. “You can’t just sit out here. The sooner you get past the introductions, the sooner we’ll start having fun.”

“You’re right.” Nervous yet wanting to know what lay ahead, she followed Marissa across a yard strewn with children and toys. They followed a group of people through the open front door. She had a brief impression of comfortable furniture and rooms full of people before they emerged into the sunlit backyard. Mexican music blared from a radio balanced on a card table on the deck, while a group of men gathered around an enormous barbecue pit in a back corner. Voices spoke in Spanish and English, and the air was redolent with the aroma of smoking meat and spices.

“Alina!”

Eric strode toward her. Dressed in faded jeans and a black polo shirt, he was easily one of the handsomest men in attendance. He caught and held her gaze as he moved toward her, and briefly she forgot about everything except him and her wildly pounding heart.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he said. He surprised her by pulling her close for a quick, strong hug.

“Thank you.” She carefully—and somewhat reluctantly—extricated herself from his embrace. “It’s good to see you, too.”

The sharp pain of Marissa’s elbow in her side reminded Alina they weren’t alone. “This is my friend, Marissa Alvarez,” Alina said. “She’s a nurse at the hospital. I hope you don’t mind I brought her along.”

“No, that’s great. This is my friend Marty Padgett.”

For the first time Alina noticed the man standing next to Eric. She stared at him, and might have stopped breathing for a second. Marty was tall and broad and very blond, with a face like an angel.

“Hi, Alina.” Marty offered a meaty hand. “I bet you don’t remember me, but I’ve seen you at the hospital.”

She took the hand he offered, and waited for the tingle she was sure would surge through her—the signal that this was the man her grandmother had predicted would make her happy. Just because she didn’t really believe in the prophecy didn’t mean she’d pass up a chance at true love, happiness and the whole romance package.

But she experienced no particular sensation, except that Marty had kind of a weak handshake for such a big guy.

“Let me show you where everything is and introduce you to some people.” Eric took her arm and led her across the yard. Marissa and Marty trailed after them.

Alina glanced over her shoulder and saw that Marissa had her arm linked with Marty’s and was flirting with him in that open, friendly way of hers. Men always liked Marissa, with her fall of long dark hair and friendly smile.

The little procession halted in front of a half-dozen men and women who’d gathered in the shade of a spreading oak. “Everyone, this is Alina Allinova and her friend, Marissa Alvarez.” Eric turned to Marissa. “This is my brother John and my brother Bart and their wives, Renee and Sabina, and my sister Sofia and her husband, Guillermo.”

“Like you’re going to remember all that, right?” A stocky thirtysomething extended a hand. “Just remember that I’m the older, handsome brother,” he said. “Bart here—” he jerked his thumb at a slightly younger man with curly dark hair “—he’s the clown. Eric is the baby.”

“Some baby.” A slender woman with artfully streaked blond hair rolled her eyes and offered her hand also. “I’m Sofia, married to this big lug.” She nudged the shoulder of a short, barrel-chested man who grinned at her fondly. “We have three little boys running around here somewhere, but don’t bother trying to keep them straight. They’re all little wild men.”

“Sofia is closest to Eric in age,” John said. “She’s the youngest sister, but the bossiest.”

“Men need someone to tell them what to do.” Sofia gestured to her brothers. “They pretend to protest, but they’d be lost without us.”

Alina smiled and shook hands and tried to keep track of the many people and names. “How did an ugly sucker like my brother end up with two beautiful women as his guests?” Bart asked. “Tell the truth, ladies—did he bribe you to show up?”

“Can I help it if I got all the charm in the family?” Eric winked at Alina and she felt a warm tickle of attraction.

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” she said.

“We’ll have a little girl talk later,” Sofia said. “I want to hear all the dirt on my little brother.”

“Ignore her. There is no dirt.” Eric took Alina’s arm. “Come on. I want you to meet Mom and Pop.”

At the mention of his parents, Alina’s stomach gave a nervous shimmy. What if they didn’t like her? What if they were upset their son had invited a stranger to their home like this?

“Who is this?” demanded a short, broad man with Eric’s dimpled smile as the trio approached. He wore a black apron that proclaimed him King of the Grill.

“Dad, this is Alina Allinova and Marissa Alvarez,” Eric said.

“Bienvenidos,” Mr. Sepulveda boomed. “Welcome.” He shook both their hands. “Eric should bring such pretty women home more often.”

Alina flushed, touched by such an effusive welcome. “Thank you for hosting us,” she said, hoping she had the words right. She still struggled with English sometimes.

“Yes, this is a terrific party,” Marissa said. She made a sweeping motion with her hand, taking in the tables laden with food, groups of laughing children and crowd of adults gathered in the shady yard.

“We like to entertain,” Mr. Sepulveda said with a modest shrug of his shoulders. “Join us anytime.”

“And this is my grandmother Torres.” Eric led them to a bent, plump woman with a crown of silver braids. “Abuelita, this is Alina Allinova and Marissa Alvarez.”

Mrs. Torres nodded regally, and said something to her grandson in Spanish.

“She doesn’t speak English.” Marty leaned closer to Alina and whispered. “Though I suspect she understands it well enough.”

With a stab of pain, Alina thought of Baka Fania, who had died two years before. She, too, had never learned English, saying that since she was good at reading people’s hearts, she had no need to understand their tongues, as well.

Mrs. Torres stared at Alina as if trying to read her heart. Alina managed a weak smile. Mrs. Torres said something and Alina looked to Eric for a translation. “She said she’s pleased to meet you,” Eric said. Though something in his manner made Alina suspect those had not been the old woman’s exact words.

Eric kissed his grandmother’s cheek, then led them and Marty to a shaded arbor crowded with benches and lawn chairs. “And this is my mother,” he said, introducing an older blonde who wore a long flowered skirt and white blouse. Though lines around her eyes and mouth testified to her age, Mrs. Sepulveda had clearly been a beauty in her younger years. “Mama, this is Alina Allinova and Marissa Alvarez.”

Mrs. Sepulveda smiled warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you both,” she said. “How do you girls know Eric and Marty?”

Alina was slow to answer, overwhelmed at meeting so many new people at once. Marissa jumped in to fill the silence. “Alina’s a respiratory therapist and I’m an RN at the hospital,” she said.

Mrs. Sepulveda studied Marissa thoughtfully. “Are you related to Frank and Millie Alvarez?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. My family is from Pueblo.”

“I have a lot of friends in Pueblo. Why don’t you girls sit here beside me and we’ll find out if we know any of the same people. Eric, fetch us something to drink.”

While Marissa and Mrs. Sepulvida conversed in a mixture of Spanish and English, Alina took a seat on a nearby bench. Marty joined her. Here was her chance to get to know him better. “How do you know Eric?” she asked.

“We work together—I’m a paramedic, too.”

“Then I’m amazed I haven’t run into you at the hospital. I’m sure I’d remember.” Because of her grandmother’s prophecy, every blond man she saw made an impression on her, but she had no memory of this one, though he’d claimed to have met her before.

“You’d be amazed how many people don’t remember me. I guess because I’m kind of quiet.”

“I’m a quiet person, too,” she said. When she’d first come to the United States, she’d avoided speaking because she’d been worried about betraying her ignorance of English, though she’d studied the language for years. But even at home she had always preferred listening to and watching others, never needing to be the center of attention. “And I like quiet men,” she added. “Better than ones who talk too much.”

“Eric doesn’t talk too much,” Marty said. “He’s a great guy.”

Eric again. The man who really made her heart race. But she felt she owed it to her grandmother to at least give Marty a chance. “Eric is very nice,” she murmured. “But—”

“He’s a lot of fun and really down-to-earth, too,” Marty continued. “In spite of being such a daredevil.”

“I don’t understand.” Alina wasn’t sure what the term meant.

“It just means someone who likes to take risks. Eric likes skiing out of bounds or in extreme terrain, and in the summer he races motorcycles and climbs mountains—that kind of thing.”

She hated the idea of Eric risking his life on a motorcycle. She’d recently cared for a young man who’d been seriously injured in a motorcycle accident. She pushed the thought away. She shouldn’t focus on Eric, the handsome risk-taker. She needed to get to know Marty, to determine if he was the man who would make her happy for the rest of her life. “What do you like to do when you’re not working?” she asked.

“I’m going to school, studying to be a minister.”

“A…a minister?” Not what she’d expected. The opposite of being a daredevil, she supposed.

“You know, a preacher. A reverend.”

“That’s nice.” Even to her ears, the words sounded weak.

“Not exactly the world’s sexiest profession.” He laughed. “But an important one, I think.”

“Yes. Of course.”

She waited for him to pick up the conversation, but he merely smiled at her blandly. That was definitely one drawback to two quiet people trying to get to know each other.

Eric returned, drinks in hand, and a little girl in tow. One of his nieces, she thought. “This is Emma,” he introduced the tyke as he handed the drinks around. “Say hello to Alina and Marissa.”

“He-wo,” the child said, the word muffled by the thumb stuck in her mouth.

“How old are you, Emma?” Alina asked.

The little girl looked questioningly at her uncle. “She’s three,” Mrs. Sepulveda said. “And Eric is her favorite uncle.”

“She has good taste,” Marissa said. She winked at Alina, who quickly looked away.

“Uncle Eric, I want up.” Emma stretched her arms skyward and stood on tiptoe.

“Emma, you’re too big for me to hold all the time,” he said, even as he bent to gather her in his arms.

“I like it up here ’cause I’m tall.” She grinned at the circle of adults.

Alina couldn’t help but grin back, not only at the adorable little girl, but at the picture of the child nestled against Eric, who held her with such tenderness. Before her eyes the ladies’ man who had flirted with her at Vinotok—the man who risked his life racing motorcycles and skiing off cliffs and no telling what else—had transformed into an easygoing family man, beloved by grandparents and toddlers alike. What woman wouldn’t be charmed?

“There you are!” One of the women Alina had met earlier—Renee—hurried to them. “Stop bothering Uncle Eric and let him visit with his friends.”

“I wasn’t bothering him!” Emma protested.

“She really wasn’t,” Eric said, though he handed her over to her mother.

“Let’s go fix you a plate,” Renee said. “Papa made some little sausages especially for you.”

Effectively distracted, Emma went willingly with her mother. Eric squeezed in beside Alina on the bench so that she had to move over toward Marty to accommodate him. She was aware of how close she was, not to Marty, but to Eric, their thighs touching. He glanced toward his mother and Marissa, who were deep in conversation once more. “I don’t think Mom meant to leave you out in the cold,” he said.

“Oh, it’s all right,” Alina said. “Marissa’s like that. She can talk to anyone about anything.”

Whereas the three of them suddenly had nothing to say. Alina, aware of both men watching her, was struck by the truth of the saying “three’s a crowd.” Marty might be the type of man her grandmother had decreed she should be attracted to, but Eric drew her the way she imagined the forbidden fruit had once tempted Eve.

ERIC’S DAD ANNOUNCED that the meat was ready, and Eric was pressed into service helping to fill plates with smoky chicken, spicy chorizo sausage and slices of beef brisket. As he worked, he darted glances at Alina and Marissa, who had found a spot at one of the big tables with some of Eric’s sisters and his brothers’ wives.

“She’s very pretty.” His brother John accepted a plate of brisket from Eric and nodded to Alina. “What’s the story with you two?”

“I met her at Vinotok last night and invited her to come to the barbecue,” Eric said. “There is no story.”

“She’s good-looking.” Bart joined them. “I noticed the accent. Where’s she from?”

“Croatia.” He sliced chorizo into bite-size pieces and transferred them to a young nephew’s plate.

“She’s a long way from home,” Bart said.

“She’s here on an exchange program with the hospital.”

“So she’ll be going home eventually.” John nodded as if this was significant.

“In a few months,” Eric said.

Bart grinned. “That explains it, then.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you’re staring at her and not her pretty Latina friend.” John popped a bite of chicken into his mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We know you, bro,” Bart said. “You don’t date women who are wife material. It’s how you’ve managed to remain single longer than any of the rest of us.”

“And it’s why Mama is getting worried,” John said. “Didn’t you see the way her eyes lit up when you introduced her to Marissa? She doesn’t know yet Alina is the one you’re really interested in.”

“If you’re nice to us, we won’t tell her the truth.” Bart’s grin was wicked. “Yet.”

“You’re imagining things.” Eric attacked the brisket with renewed vigor.

“No, we’re not.” John’s expression grew serious. “Mama is desperate to see her baby married and settled down.”

“Why does she automatically assume Marissa is the one I should marry?” Eric asks.

“Not Marissa specifically,” Bart said. “But she fits the profile.”

“What profile?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Bart said. “You know the drill. You find a nice girl from the same background and culture, get married and build a life just like the one your parents built.”

“It’s the way we do things,” John said.

Eric thought of his brothers and sisters, who had all followed this pattern. Though he would never admit it to his brothers, he’d assumed he would take much the same path. While he enjoyed taking risks in his leisure activities and even on the job, he saw no reason to be reckless when it came to his personal life. His brothers and sisters were all happy; his parents were happy. Why shouldn’t this same approach make Eric happy, too?

He respected his family’s history and admired all his parents had done. They were leaders in the community. His dad’s machine shop was a gathering place for local men, and his mother was active in the church and the local community center. Eric would be proud to pattern his life after theirs—but not just yet.

“There’s nothing wrong with having fun with pretty women,” John said. “But you ought to think about settling down soon.”

“If you don’t, Mama and Grandmother will find a wife for you,” Bart said. “You don’t want that.”

“Remember what happened to Gilberto,” John said.

“What happened to Gilberto?” Eric looked across the yard to where his eldest brother stood with a group of older men. Gilberto had been married for years—apparently happily—to a large, cheerful woman who had come into the machine shop one day to pick up parts for her father.

“You’re too young to remember,” John said. “When he was twenty, he made the mistake of telling Mama that he didn’t plan on getting married until he was thirty because he was having too much fun being single and didn’t want the burden of a family.”

Eric tried to imagine anyone in his family making this kind of announcement to his parents; he couldn’t. He and his brothers and sisters might think such things, but why say them out loud and risk an argument? “What happened?” he asked.

“Mama said that was fine. That no one should be burdened by a family,” Bart said.

“Then she and Abuelita were like generals on the attack.” John took up the story again. “Soon Gilberto couldn’t turn around without being confronted by some eligible young woman. They attended every family dinner. They sat next to him at church. Mama persuaded Papa to hire a new secretary at the shop, the daughter of a friend. If Gilberto tried to get away, to play soccer with his friends or to have a drink at a tavern, Mama would show up with some young woman in tow.”

“He was miserable,” Bart said. “He finally had to admit he’d have no peace until he got engaged.”

“So Maria was one of the young women sent to him by Mama and Grandmother?” Eric asked.

“No. I guess they hadn’t heard of her yet.” Bart laughed. “She was new in town and when Gilberto realized this, he decided she had to be the one. Then at least he could say he’d chosen her of his own free will.”

“After that, the rest of us knew we didn’t stand a chance,” John said. “We made our own choices and it’s worked out for the best.”

“It’s only because you’re the baby and her favorite that Mama and Grandmother have held off so long,” Bart said. “But if you don’t show some signs of settling down soon, they’re going to make their move.”

“When the time comes, I’ll make my own choice, too,” Eric said. “But I have to finish medical school first. It’s going to take everything I have to get through that. I won’t have the time or energy for a relationship.”

“So you’re still set on being a doctor,” John said.

“Why would you think I’d changed my mind? It’s what I’ve wanted for years.”

“I wanted to be an astronaut once, too,” Bart said. “But you don’t see me walking on the moon.”

“Mama’s even more upset about the idea of you going away to medical school than she is about you still being single,” John said. “She wants you here at home, out of debt and settled down, raising more grandchildren.”

John nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she and Abuelita’s New Year’s resolutions don’t involve finding you a wife.”

Eric opened his mouth to deny this. The whole idea was preposterous, especially in this day and age. No one could force a woman on him.

Except his grandmother’s words when he’d introduced Alina to her still echoed in his head. Words he hadn’t dared translate for Alina: “She’s a very pretty girl, but when are you going to bring home someone you can be serious about?”

IF YOU WANTED to really get to know a man, Alina decided, there were worse ways than spending time with his sisters. While Alina and Marissa stuffed themselves with brisket and beans, chorizo and chilliquillas, Eric’s sisters Sofia and Cari, along with his sisters-in-law Renee and Sabina, regaled them with stories of Eric’s exploits—from the time he ate a batch of cookies their mother had made and tried to blame it on the family cat, to harrowing accidents on his motorcycle, to the time he’d dressed in drag for a school play.

Alina was still laughing at the mental image of Eric in a wig and falsies when he joined them, Marty trailing behind.

“What have you two been up to?” Marissa asked, scooting over to make room for them. “We were beginning to feel abandoned.”

“I knew it was a mistake to leave you alone too long.” Eric squeezed in between them. “My sisters have probably been telling all kinds of lies about me.”

“Only the truth,” Sofia said, grinning. “They both know they’d be wise to stay far away from you.”

“That isn’t fair,” Eric said. “There’s no one here to tell stories on Marty.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Marty said. “Compared to Eric, I’ve led a very unexciting life.”

“Alina has had more adventures than any of us,” Marissa said. “I’ve never even been out of Colorado, and she came all the way from Croatia to live here.”

“What made you decide to come to the United States?” Cari asked.

“It was a great opportunity to see new places, meet new people and learn some new skills.” As much as she loved her country and her family and all their traditions, she’d begun to feel smothered by them. She’d wanted the chance to live truly independently—to make decisions based not on what had always been done but on what she wanted.

“And you’re here for a whole year?” Sofia asked.

“Until mid-January, yes.”

Marissa shook her head. “I’d miss my family and friends too much to leave for that long,” she said. “I mean, my three sisters drove me crazy when we were growing up, but the toughest thing about going off to college was getting used to not having them around anymore.”

“I was very homesick at first,” Alina admitted. “And I do miss my family. But I think being away from them has made me appreciate them more.”

“Maybe I should get away from my family for a while,” Eric said. “So I could try that appreciation thing.”

Sofia stuck her tongue out at him. “You’d be lost without us, little brother.”

Alina turned to Marty. “What about your family?” she asked. “Where do they live?”

“They’re in Denver,” he said. “I have an older sister, who’s married and lives in Connecticut.” He shrugged. “Not much else to tell.”

But surely there was, Alina thought. What were their names? What did they do for a living? Did he miss them? Did he want to move back to Denver to be near his parents when he’d finished his studies? But she didn’t want to fire all these questions at him at once, afraid to appear she was interrogating him.

“I’m glad you decided to come to the United States,” Eric said. “If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have gotten the chance to get to know you.” The words were innocent enough, but the unspoken message behind them was that he wanted to know her much better.

Unnerved by how much that idea pleased her, she excused herself and carried her empty plate and utensils to the trash barrels set up by the back gate. Marissa followed her. “Don’t leave me,” Marissa whispered. “I have to hide from Eric’s mom.”

“His mom? Why?”

Marissa glanced around, then, apparently deciding they were out of earshot of anyone else, said, “She wants to fix me up with her son.”

“With one of Eric’s brothers?” Hadn’t he told her all his siblings were married?

“No, with Eric!”

“Eric?” She had a hard time getting the word out, so stunned was she by this idea.

“Yes. Can you believe it?”

Alina swallowed, and forced a lightness she didn’t feel into her voice. “I thought you liked him. You said he was cute.”

“Yes, but I’d never poach on a friend’s guy.” Marissa shook her head. “That’s just wrong.”

The news flooded Alina with relief, though she fought against it. “I do like Eric,” she said. “But we only just met. He’s not exactly my guy.”

Marissa gave her a pitying look. “He’s really into you. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”

Yes, she’d noticed. She’d have to be in a coma not to. And she was definitely interested in him. He was kind and funny and good-looking and sexy…but was he the right man for her? She was a modern, independent woman—but deep down she wanted to believe her grandmother’s prophecy, that there was one particular man pre-ordained to make her happy. “What do you think of Marty?” she asked.

Marissa shrugged. “He’s okay. But he’s kind of…dull.”

Marty didn’t have Eric’s charisma, that was true. “He seems very sweet,” Alina said.

“Yeah, but I like a little more spice with my sweet, if you know what I mean.”

Eric was plenty spicy. Alina turned to watch him as he pretended to wrestle with one of his young nephews. The longer she was around him, the more she felt her resistance to him weakening. The two of them could have a lot of fun together. But she was leaving in three months. What would happen then?

Chapter Three

The problem with inviting Alina to the barbecue, Eric decided, was that he hadn’t found any opportunity to be alone with her. After his conversation with his brothers, he’d been acutely aware of everyone watching whenever he so much as looked at Alina.

“So I have to find a way to ask her out without it really being a date,” he explained to Marty as the two cruised around town in an ambulance the following Monday. They’d taken the vehicle in for an oil change and were now driving the long way back to the station.

“Why not just ask her out on a date?” Marty asked.

“Because if I do that, word will get back to my mother and grandmother, and they’ll decide to take matters into their own hands.”

“What are you talking about?” Marty asked.

“My mother and grandmother have decided it’s time I was married,” he said.

“Why now?” Marty asked.

“I’m the only one of my siblings who isn’t married. Also, I suspect my mom thinks if I’m married I’ll settle down and give up the idea of going away to medical school.”

“I thought every mother wanted her son to be a doctor.”

“Believe me, when I’m a doctor she’ll be proud as can be. But she thinks I’m too ambitious, that I’m going to get in over my head, incur a mountain of debt, kill myself studying and working, become estranged from my family…If there’s a worst-case scenario, my mother has imagined it.”

“So she wants you to marry and settle down here in Gunnison. I get that. Then they ought to be happy if you start dating someone, shouldn’t they?”

“Only if it’s the right someone.”

“And Alina isn’t the right someone?”

“Alina is from another country—and plans to return there in a few months.” The knowledge made his stomach hurt.

“Ah. And your folks want you to settle down with a cute little Latina.”

“Exactly. So you see my problem.”

Marty shook his head. “Not really. Going out with a woman doesn’t mean you’re going to marry her. And you’re twenty-six years old. What’s your mother going to do—send you to bed without your supper?”

“Very funny. You don’t know my mother. And my grandmother is twice as bad. When I was ten and decided I didn’t like green beans, she served them to me every night for six months. It was easier to give in and choke them down than face six more months of seeing them on my plate every time I sat down to dinner.”

“There’s a big difference between a vegetable and the woman you’ll spend the rest of your life with,” Marty said.

“My mother and grandmother can be relentless when they’re trying to make a point,” Eric said. “If I start dating Alina, they’ll set me up with other women they think are more suitable. Every time I turn around one will just ‘happen’ to be there. Alina will think I’m some kind of playboy.”

“I guess Alina wouldn’t like that,” Marty said.

“Especially not when we hardly know each other,” Eric said. “The only chance I have is if the two of us can become friends before my family has a chance to interfere.”

“Then whatever your family does, she’ll be so besotted it won’t matter?” Marty said.

Or maybe he’d be so enamored he’d find a way to stand up to his folks. “I just want us to be able to have a good time before she has to go back to Croatia, that’s all,” he said. Though he hated to admit it, there was some truth in what his brothers had said—part of his interest in Alina probably lay in the fact that any relationship with her was destined to be temporary.

But since she was leaving soon, he couldn’t afford to waste any time he might spend with her now.

A loud tone from the radio alerted them to a call. “Elderly woman needs assistance at Lifeway Manor, two-one-one-two West Virginia Avenue.”

Eric and Marty exchanged a look. “The bowling ladies,” Marty said.

“Yeah, the bowling ladies,” Eric said grimly, and switched on the siren and flashing lights.

“Copy, dispatch. We’re on our way,” Marty said.

Lifeway Manor was an assisted-living facility not far from downtown. The elderly residents were mostly independent, living in separate apartments with access to a central dining facility, an on-site medical clinic and a host of planned activities.

The newest addition to the activity schedule, and the cause of great excitement among the residents, was a series of baseball games, golf tournaments and other games which the residents could “play” thanks to the latest video game technology. With these games, even wheelchair-bound residents could take to the links or to the basketball court. This had led to the formation of teams and a healthy competition among the residents.

But no group was more rabid or competitive than the women’s bowling league. The nineteen women who competed in the bowling tournaments battled with such intensity that several of them were familiar faces to members of the Gunnison Valley Emergency Medical Services crews.

First had been Carla Polenski, who had thrown out her shoulder while bowling a virtual strike. Then Betty Peabody had gotten stuck in the elevator when she pressed all the buttons at once in her haste not to be late to a scheduled game. Pearl Winters had fainted when her blood pressure spiked during an argument over scoring.

Tonight’s casualty was one June Freed, a pleasant-faced munchkin of a woman who had fallen in her rush to reach the game room ahead of her archrival Opal Simpson. “She always gets there first and camps out in my favorite chair,” June griped as Eric examined her swollen arm. “I’m sick and tired of it, I tell you.”

“It looks like your arm might be broken,” Eric said. “You’ll need to have an X ray to know for sure. Do you want us to take you to the hospital in the ambulance?”

“No. I already called my son. He’ll take me. But not before the tournament is over.”

“Why don’t you just take the game away from them?” Eric asked the harried administrator as he completed the required paperwork at the nurse’s station.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” The administrator’s eyes widened. “They’d revolt. When the golf game malfunctioned for two weeks, some of the men staged a sit-in in the main dining room. They threatened to call the newspapers if we didn’t have the game repaired immediately. One of them even said he’d have his grandson film a protest for YouTube.”

“Maybe you should take Alina bowling,” Marty said as he and Eric headed back toward the station. “It’s obviously a more exciting game than I imagined.”

Eric gave him a sour look.

“So what are you going to do about her?” Marty persisted.

“We need to do something with friends that still provides the opportunity for the two of us to be alone.” Eric glanced at his friend. “What do you think of Marissa?”

Marty blinked. “I don’t know. She seems nice enough. Why?”

“You should ask her to come with us. That will help Alina feel more at ease.” He flipped on his blinker for the turn into the station.

“Us? Since when am I involved in this?”

“Since now.” Eric backed the ambulance into its bay, ready for the next call-out.

Maddie came out to meet them. “I just heard from Hagan,” she said. “It’s snowing in the high country. They could get eight to ten inches tonight.”

“That’s perfect,” Eric said.

“Spoken like a man who doesn’t have to shovel his driveway,” Marty said.

“No, this is great. Maddie, you and Hagan have a snowmobile, don’t you?”

“Sure. You want to borrow it?”

“No, my brothers have a couple we can use. Would you and Hagan like to go snowmobiling this weekend? We could ask Max and Casey and some other folks—make a party of it.”

“Okay.” Maddie looked from one man to the other. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more behind this than the desire to take advantage of the fresh snow?”

“Eric doesn’t care about the rest of us,” Marty said. “We’re just giving him an excuse to romance Alina Allinova.”

“Since when do you need all of us to do that?” Maddie asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the ambulance.

“Just let me know if you’re free to go snowmobiling with us this weekend.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said. “I’m anxious to meet a woman who has you calling in reinforcements.”

ALINA HAD ENROLLED in technical college with the intention of training to be an X ray technician. A friend had explained this was the perfect career, offering high pay and flexible hours.

But the introductory course she needed had been full, and the student counselor had convinced her to try a respiratory therapist course instead. After one evening clinic at the hospital, watching her instructor assist a little girl with asthma and an elderly man with emphysema, Alina was hooked. Taking pictures and developing film seemed boring in comparison to saving lives by helping people to breathe.

Already on this Tuesday evening she’d treated an accident victim with a collapsed lung, done a blood gas analysis on another patient and administered breathing treatments to three patients, including Mr. Herrerra, an elderly man with chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder. “Your oxygen levels are much better today,” she said, removing the pulse oxymeter from Mr. Herrera’s finger. “If you keep improving this way, you’ll be going home in no time.”

“I wish the home health aide that comes to my house was as pretty as you are,” he said.

“I bet you say that to all the women.” She stowed the pulse oxymeter and packed up the nebulizer. “You have a good night, and a safe trip home if I don’t see you tomorrow.”

She wheeled the cart with her supplies back into the corridor to the nurses’ station, where she could record her activities and findings in Mr. Herrerra’s chart. A small window nearby looked out onto the hospital parking lot and a lacy curtain of snowflakes illuminated by the floodlights.

She thought she’d known winter before coming to Colorado. After all, Croatia had mountains and plenty of snow. But she’d never seen a winter like her first in Gunnison. Snow piled higher than the roofs and the turning lanes of the streets filled with great drifts pushed there by the plows. Temperatures hovered near zero for weeks at a time, while the sun glared off everything, bright but giving little warmth.

Despite the chill, people embraced the weather, devoting themselves to every kind of activity involving snow, from skiing and sledding to ice sculpture competitions and snowshoe races.

“Mr. Herrerra says he’s in love.” Marissa stood at Alina’s elbow. Dressed in raspberry-pink scrubs, a stethoscope draped around her neck, she was the picture of the efficient nurse.

“With you?” Alina asked.

“A little bit with me. Mostly with you. You have another conquest.”

“A seventy-seven-year-old boyfriend. I’m so flattered.”

“Speaking of boyfriends, have you seen Eric lately?”

“No.” She’d thought of him often since Sunday; the sight of dark hair and the red shirts of the Gunnison Valley EMS was enough to make her heart race and her head turn.

“You could always call him,” Marissa said.

“No, I could not.”

“Of course you could.”

“But I don’t want to.” If he was really as interested as Marissa had said, he would have called her.

“But you could.”

“Enough, Marissa. I have work to do.”

“Did you hear Amy Fremont is leaving after the first of the year?”

“Really?” Amy was head of the respiratory therapy department at Gunnison Valley Hospital.

“Her husband’s retiring and they’re building a house near Lake Powell.”

“How do you know these things?” Alina asked.

Marissa shrugged. “I hear stuff. For instance, I know Eric Sepulveda has never been involved with anyone.”

Eric again. “Never? Not even a high school crush?”

“I mean, seriously involved. No engagements. Never lived with anyone. He’s dated a lot, but never any one woman for very long.”

“That’s not so unusual.” She’d never been engaged or involved with anyone, either. Not for lack of trying—she’d dated a number of men, but had never fallen in love with any of them.

“He’s the youngest in his family and the only one who isn’t married.”

“I’m the only one in my family who isn’t married,” Alina said. “And you’re not married, either.”

“I’m the oldest in my family. You’re the youngest. And so is Eric. See—you have lots in common.” Marissa sounded positively gleeful.

“Why are you so interested in me and Eric?” Alina asked. “I’ve been here eight months and you haven’t cared who I dated or didn’t date.”

“I have a good feeling about you two,” Marissa said. “And didn’t you know I’m a hopeless romantic?”

“Hopeless is right.”

“Hi. Are you Alina Allinova?”

Alina started, and saw a woman with brown curly hair moving down the corridor toward her. The newcomer wore the red shirt and dark pants of the Emergency Medical Service. “Y-yes. I’m Alina,” she stammered.

“I’m Maddie Ansdar.” The woman offered her hand. “I just transported a patient here, and I’ve heard so much about you I wanted to meet you.”

“Heard about her from whom?” Marissa asked.

“Oh, different people.” Maddie sketched a vague gesture in the air. “I understand you’re from Croatia. I skied there several times—at Bjelolasica.”

Alina’s eyes widened. Most people she’d met had never heard of Bjelolasica, much less knew how to pronounce it. “My family went there on vacations several times when I was younger,” she said. In college, groups of friends had often rented chalets for the weekend, skiing all day and partying into the night. Those days felt very long ago.

“I didn’t get to see much of the country other than the slopes,” Maddie said. “But what I saw was beautiful.”

“We never saw many Americans there,” Alina said. “Most of them prefer to travel to the Alps in France or Italy.”

“I was on the U.S. Olympic team and competed in some World Cup races there,” Maddie said. “At least I did until I injured my leg.”

“And now you’re in Gunnison. Are you from here?”

Maddie shook her head. “I live in Crested Butte. I worked for the ski patrol for a while and met my husband and decided to stay.”

“You must know Eric and Marty,” Marissa said.

“I do.” Maddie looked at Alina expectantly.

Alina felt as if she were in a play where everyone knew their lines but her. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Maddie,” she said.

“Have you talked to Eric lately?” Maddie asked.

“No. Should I have?”

“Oh, I imagine you will soon.”

The idea pleased Alina. “When you see him, tell him I said hello.”

“I’ll do that.” The women said goodbye and Alina turned back to her paperwork.

“This is looking good,” Marissa said. “He’s been talking about you to his coworkers. He’s crazy about you.”

“He can’t get too crazy,” Alina said. “I’m only going to be here until January.”

“A lot can happen in a few months. You might decide this is true love.”

“Oh, please!” Alina protested, even as her heart pounded. “You told me Eric has never had a serious girlfriend and he’s the only one of his siblings who hasn’t been married. Does that sound like the kind of man who wants to settle down to you?”

“Yes. He’s sown all his wild oats and is ready to fall in love. And I think you’re the woman he’s fallen in love with.”

Alina’s heart stomped out a frenzied folk dance. “The man hardly knows me.”

Marissa shrugged. “Some people are meant to be together.”

So her grandmother had always said. And according to Baka Fania, the person Alina was meant to be with was a big, good-looking blond. Someone like Marty—who as far as Alina could tell was a sweet, shy, absolutely boring man who generated not a single spark in her. And none of the other blond men she’d dated over the years had sparked any feelings in her, either.

So much for grandmother knowing best.

ERIC KNEW he made a good impression in his dark jeans and leather jacket. Female heads turned as he passed through the corridors of Gunnison Valley Hospital Wednesday afternoon, and he resisted the urge to stop and flirt with the prettier nurses, aides and one attractive female surgeon. He had a mission to accomplish and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

He found Alina in the hallway outside a patient’s room, marking something on the chart by the door. “Hey,” he said, and stopped beside her.

Her pale complexion blushed prettily, reminding him of a fast-motion film of a rose blooming. “Hello,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” She clicked her pen several times rapidly before shoving it into the pocket of her pale blue scrubs. “What can I do for you?”

“A group of us are going snowmobiling this weekend up by Kebler Pass. I’m hoping you can go with us.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I…I’ll have to check my schedule.”

“I talked to Marissa, and she thought you might be free Saturday,” Eric said. “She’s coming with us. So is Marty and some other people, mostly from Crested Butte. But they’re great folks. You’ll like them.”

Alina hesitated.

“Have you been snowmobiling before?” he asked. “It’s a lot of fun.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then you should come. Who knows when you’ll have the chance again?”

“All right,” she said. “I’d like that.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up about eight Saturday morning.”

“All right. I’ll give you my address.”

“No problem. I already got it from Marissa.”

She looked surprised, but said nothing. Eric would like to be a fly on the wall when she talked to Marissa about that. “I guess I’ll see you then,” she said.

Clearly she expected him to leave, but he lingered, reluctant to break off their conversation. This was the longest they’d ever spent alone, and he wanted to make the most of it. He followed her to the supply closet and watched while she replenished the supplies on her cart. “What made you decide to become a respiratory therapist?” he asked.

“I liked that it was a way to really help people,” she said. “Patients come to me, unable to breathe, and I can make a real difference for them.”

“Why not a doctor or a nurse?”

She shrugged. “That took money and training I didn’t have. This was more immediate. More specialized. A doctor has to know everything. I’m able to concentrate on doing this one thing well. And it’s very hands-on. Medicine isn’t always like that.”

“You’re right, but medicine offers a lot of variety. I’m hoping to be a doctor one day. I’ve completed my undergraduate work—I’ll start medical school next fall.”

“Really?”

Again the look of surprise. Well, she wouldn’t be the first person to underestimate him. He enjoyed proving them wrong. “I’ve applied for some grants and scholarships,” he said. “It won’t be easy to pull everything together, but I’m determined.”

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