Snowbound

She had slept… She turned her head and found an old-fashioned clock on the night-stand. Twelve hours? Was it possible?

Galvanized, she jackknifed to a sitting position. Her students! And here she’d gone to sleep vowing to keep them out of their host’s hair.

No slippers, but she’d left her borrowed wool socks on. Fiona paused to peer in the mirror and shuddered. She’d scare the kids.

No choice. She needed the bathroom, and now.

Raucous laughter came from one of the girls’ rooms followed by someone shushing.

“Hey,” she said, flapping a hand as she went by.

“The bathtub is so-o amazing,” Tabitha called after her. “Mr. Fallon said it was okay to use as much hot water as we wanted.”

The idea of sinking into a deep tub of hot water was irresistible. On the other hand, putting on dirty clothes when she got out was less appealing.

Water splashed the floor in the bathroom and toothbrushes, hairbrushes and makeup were scattered over the counter. Dirty clothes were heaped in a corner. Sitting on the toilet, Fiona gazed at the pile wide-eyed. Had John Fallon come up with more clothes…?

Then she spotted the neat pile of folded laundry on the slatted shelving unit beside the towels. As if in a dream, she investigated. There were her jeans and yesterday’s socks, neatly rolled. He’d washed and dried their clothes last night.

“I’m going to marry him,” she said out loud.

If he had a clean shirt she could borrow, she could leave off her panties and handwash them. She could have that bath.

Realizing she hadn’t looked outside yet, she went to the window. Beyond the eaves, snow still fell and the world beyond was completely white. What if they had slid into a ditch last night, instead of making it safely here?

She shivered and turned quickly back to the bathroom.

Fiona brushed her tangled hair and went out, stopping once again in the door to the girls’bedroom. This time she saw that Hopper sat on the floor with his legs outstretched and Amy, Tabitha and Kelli lounged on the beds.

“Where’s everyone else?”

Kelli shrugged. “Still asleep, I guess.”

“I see it’s still snowing.”

“It’s really pretty outside.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Uh-huh. There’s a toaster, and this really great bread, and muffins, and when he saw we were up, Mr. Fallon scrambled some eggs. And then he gave us the laundry.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw he’d washed our clothes. It’s like…”

“The shoemaker and the elves.” Tabitha nodded. “The bread tasted like it was right out of the oven. Do you think he slept at all?”

“I don’t know.” Fiona scrutinized them. “He loaned you some more clothes.”

“They are so too big.” Amy gazed down at herself with comical dismay. Actually the flannel shirt she wore draped becomingly, giving her a waifish look but for the swell of breasts.

“I’m going to go borrow something, too,” Fiona declared. “And then take a bath. Don’t let Willow or Erin beat me to it if they appear.”

“We won’t.”

She’d barely reached the first floor when John Fallon materialized in front of her.

“Oh! You scared me. I didn’t see you.”

“I was adding wood to the fire.”

Their host was even better looking in the light of day. He’d shaved and wore a heavy, cream-colored, Irish knit sweater over jeans. His dark hair, brushed back from his face, was just long enough to curl over the collar of the sweater.

“Thank you for washing our clothes.”

He nodded. “I set some more out in the kitchen, if you want to borrow something. Once everyone’s up, I’ll run another load.”

“Are we leaving you anything to wear?”

“Enough.”

Was he always so closemouthed, or was it just Fiona who brought it out in him? Weren’t innkeepers supposed to brim with bonhomie?

“Um…I think I’ll go pick something out.” She started toward the kitchen.

He followed. “Breakfast?”

“I’m going to take a bath first, before the kids use up all the hot water.”

“The lodge has several water heaters. It’s not good for business to make guests take cold baths.”

“No, I suppose not. I should warn you, though, that unless they’re reined in, my group may challenge your capacity. Have you ever had a lodgeful of teenagers before?”

He seemed to shake himself. Or had he shuddered?

“Yes.”

“They shower a lot. They’re awfully conscious of how they look.” And smell.

“I remember.”

She sniffed. “Did you bake that bread fresh this morning?”

“Figured we’d need it.”

“Did you ever go to bed?”

His big shoulders moved. “I get up early.”

She opened her mouth.