The Road Not Taken

“A good-looking woman,” Dean mumbled, earning a smack on the arm from his wife.

“Where is she from?”

“Where is she heading?”

“Where is she now?”

His family pelted him with questions. Jake answered his mother’s first.

“She’s calling for a tow truck. I told her to try Orville’s”

“Is he still in business?” his father asked.

“Apparently.”

“Do you really think he will come out in this weather?” Dean wanted to know.

“Not likely.”

“Which means she’ll be spending the night here.” Doreen clicked her tongue. “Heavens, I’d better get busy cleaning up another guest room. God knows they’re not habitable in their present condition.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Bonnie offered.

They started toward the door.

“There’s no need. Caro can have mine,” Jake said.

The chivalrous gesture had his mother smiling and nodding. His brother’s grin, however, had Jake clarifying, “I’ll sleep on the couch in here.”

“Can I sleep down here with Uncle Jake?” Riley wanted to know. He danced excitedly in a circle.

“Me, too! Me, too!” Jillian chanted.

“You’ll sleep upstairs with us,” Bonnie said. Before they could protest, she added, “Remember, the Easter Bunny is coming tonight. It wouldn’t do for him to stumble over a couple of sleeping children while trying to hide your baskets full of treats.”

That quieted them, but only for a moment.

“When are we going to color the eggs?” Jillian asked, hopping on one foot.

“Let’s do it now!” Riley squealed.

“After dinner and before bath time,” their mother said.

On their way from Montpelier’s airport, they’d stopped at a grocery store. They had everything for the holiday feast with them, from the eggs the children were itching to dye to the honey-glazed ham that would be served the following day for dinner. Doreen even had packed the fancy Irish linens the McCabes used every holiday. Jake took in the scene before him. The kids scampering about, his father smoking a pipe while seated fireside. It was so damned easy to pretend that everything was the same with his family here.

Except that it wasn’t. Nothing was the same. This family gathering was different. Someone was missing … and he didn’t mean his ex-wife.

He glanced toward the doorway. Caro stood there—looking tentative, looking utterly beautiful despite her damp hair and pinched expression. She was nothing like Miranda, despite their shared affinity for high-quality clothing. Miranda’s features were far sharper. The description he kept coming back to when it came to this woman was soft, fragile.

Jake cleared his throat. “Any luck getting a tow truck to come out?”

“No. A man answered at the place you suggested, but he said the roads were impassable and he had a dozen or so requests for assistance to handle ahead of mine. With tomorrow being a holiday, he said it would be Monday at the earliest before he could tow my car to his garage.”

Some of that desperation leaked back into her expression. “Is there another garage I should try?”

“Maybe. But I have a feeling they’d all tell you the same thing,” Jake replied.

She nodded glumly.

“Well, not to worry. You’re welcome here,” Doreen said. “You’ll take Jake’s room.”

Her eyelids flickered. In surprise or dismay? “Oh, no. I couldn’t—”

“He insists,” Doreen said.

At Caro’s dubious expression, Jake added, “Actually, I do. It will save my mother and Bonnie from having to clean up another one of the guest rooms.”

She smiled. “Well, in that case …”

“You’d probably like a hot shower,” Doreen said. “Show her where everything is, Jake, while Bonnie and I try to come up with a change of clothes.”

Having been given his marching orders, Jake headed for the stairs. Even though Caro was behind him, he swore he could smell the subtle, sexy scent that wafted from her person.

CHAPTER THREE

CARO FOLLOWED JAKE UP the stairs just past the reception desk. The oak banister wobbled under her hand and the steps creaked beneath a maroon carpet runner that was worn and faded from age.

At the top, he turned right, bypassing two doors before stopping to open the third.

“This is it,” he said.

Jake stepped backward to allow her to enter the room first. She’d assumed she would follow him inside and so they wound up bumping into one another. The side of his foot came down on her big toe and the point of his elbow found her breast.

“God, sorry.”

“Excuse me,” she said.

Their words were issued simultaneously and with an equal measure of awkwardness.

“Um, are you … okay?” he asked.

“Fine. Good thing you aren’t still wearing your boots.” Caro chose to ignore entirely the other injury she’d suffered.

This time she was ready when Jake waved her ahead.

The room was a good size, with a dormer wide enough to fit a desk and a sitting area comprised of two wingback chairs that flanked a fireplace. Clothes were draped over the chairs, making it clear sitting wasn’t their function these days. But the fireplace looked to be in working order, if the ashes and charred log inside the opening were any indication.

Caro wished it were lit now. She felt as if she would never be warm again. But she didn’t ask Jake to indulge her. She’d put him through too much trouble already.