Maybe This Christmas

“That’s good. She’s a good teacher.”

Jackson lifted his beer. “Which is why I suggested she coach the high school team. But you had to interfere.”

“That’s right. I did.”

“Mind telling me why?”

“Because it’s Brenna’s idea of a nightmare. You shouldn’t have put her in that position.”

“What position?”

“Asking her to do something that’s hard for her when she already does so much for you.”

“Why is it hard?” Jackson looked blank. “She’s the obvious choice. She teaches that age all the time.”

His temper started to simmer. “But not the high school team. You’re asking her to go into the school. That place doesn’t have good memories for her.” He wondered how Jackson could possibly have forgotten, and then realized his brother had barely come up for air since the shocking discovery that Snow Crystal Resort was in serious trouble.

As if to confirm that, Jackson stared at him for a moment, eyes blank and unfocused as if he’d suddenly walked into the light after a decade underground. “That was a long time ago.” He thought for a moment and then cursed under his breath, earning himself a reproving look from his grandmother. “It was thoughtless of me. So why didn’t she refuse?”

“Because she hates confrontation, you know that. And she wants to please you. You’re her boss.”

“I’ve known her since kindergarten.”

“Doesn’t change the fact you’re her boss.”

“So how did you know?”

“I took a look at her face.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you been Mr. Sensitive?”

“You don’t have to be sensitive to read Brenna.” Tyler finished his beer. “Everything she’s feeling is written right there on her face. All you have to do is look. Brenna is an open book. Always has been. She doesn’t have secrets.”

Kayla gave him a long look. “Every woman has secrets.”

“Not Brenna. I’ve known her all my life. There is nothing she thinks that I don’t know about.”

The conversation moved on, and by the time he and Jess finally left, the snow had increased in intensity.

Jess zipped up her jacket and pulled her hood over her hair. “You should invite Brenna over for dinner or something one night.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Tyler strode through the snow. “It’s enough trouble cooking for you without adding another person. And no woman in her right mind would want to set foot over the threshold of our house. If they didn’t break a limb in the hall, they’d drown or be attacked by dogs.”

“We could tidy up, and Brenna loves Ash and Luna. She’s always saying she’d love a dog, but she’s too busy working to have one.” She jogged alongside him to keep up with his long stride.

“Seems like the two of you have talked about more than school.”

“She’s cool.”

He scooped up snow and threw it at her, and she squealed and ducked. “Dad! Behave.”

“I’ve been cooped up with family night. I need to have a little fun.”

“You should start dating. It’s not natural for you to spend your evenings with me.”

Tyler thought of all the years he hadn’t had his daughter with him and looped his arm around her shoulder. “I like spending evenings with you when you’re not being a pain in the a—neck.”

“You were going to say ass.”

“I was not. And I don’t need to be fixed up by a—a—how old are you again?”

“Thirteen!”

“I don’t need to be fixed up by a thirteen-year-old.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_659c4964-39f8-548f-8910-ad30bb2c9552)

THE ANTICIPATED SNOWSTORM hit during the early hours of the morning, bringing the worst weather locals had seen for years. Across the state there were power outages and havoc on the roads. Branches snapped and windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the intensity of the snowfall. The Highways Department plowed and sanded, and schools were closed.

Snow Crystal escaped all but the much longed for snowfall, which coated the mountains, the forest and the trails in a deep, thick layer of white.

The resort’s efficient snow-clearing operation had been underway for a few hours by the time Brenna left her lodge. The path that led through the forest to the Outdoor Center had already been cleared, and she trudged through the winter-white, her feet sinking into the snow, grateful for her warm clothing as she felt the sting of cold on her cheeks. She breathed in the smell of pine and paused for a moment, savoring the muffled silence that always followed a heavy fall of snow.

It wasn’t even seven o’clock but Élise was already in the gym, pounding on the treadmill while music shook the walls of the room that had been built as part of Jackson’s development of the spa. Glass walls overlooked the forest, and the trees loomed, ghostly white, out of the darkness.

Brenna winced at the throbbing beat and dropped her bag on the door. “Is this French? I don’t know what she’s singing about, but I’m really sorry it happened to her, and I think she needs therapy.”

Élise didn’t slow her pace. “She is angry because a man has treated her badly. Me, if a man did that to me I would—” She made a throat-slitting gesture, and Brenna shook her head as she peeled off her jacket.

“How does Sean sleep at night with you next to him? Does he hide all the sharp knives?”

“He is a surgeon. He is very skilled with a knife. If I chose to kill him, that would not be my way.”

“Good to know.” Brenna stepped onto the elliptical machine. “Did he make it to the hospital this morning? The roads must be in chaos with all this snow.”

“He stayed last night. He had a full operating list today and didn’t want to risk being snowed in. I slept alone.”

“Ah—” Brenna hit start “—so that explains your mood and the pounding music.”

“There is nothing wrong with my mood. My mood is as good as it ever is before the sun rises.” Élise ran as if she were being chased by a bear. “And you know I hate the gym. Me, I would always rather be running outdoors. I feel like a rodent on this treadmill. When I lived in Paris, always I ran outdoors.”

“I can’t imagine running in a city.” Brenna scooped her hair into a ponytail. “You’d be breathing in fumes and dodging traffic.”

“Who is breathing in fumes?” A sleepy-looking Kayla walked into the gym, her gaze fixed on her phone as she scrolled through her emails. Her blond hair was bunched untidily on top of her head, and her oversize sweater slid off her shoulder. “Who decided this was a good time to exercise? It’s barbaric.”

Brenna adjusted the controls. “It’s the same time we met every day in the summer to run around the lake.”

“But it was daylight. Now it’s dark, and I hate the dark. Any chance we could start this an hour later?”