But Henry Lassiter did.
They said goodbye, but she lingered, hoping to talk to Gracie. Looking in the back, she saw her niece was meeting with a couple about a wedding cake.
When she caught her eye, she gave Gracie a wave and a thumb’s up, then headed out with a bounce in her step. Maybe things were turning around. Maybe they wouldn’t have to sell, just…get an investor. And a good-looking one at that.
On the drive home, she got a call from her bedding supplier—prices were going up in January—and another from a travel agent who was supposed to bring in a ski tour but had to pull out.
Dang it all, she thought as she turned into the long drive at Snowberry Lodge. She’d never needed that two hundred and fifty more than right now.
Stepping inside the back kitchen door, she got a whiff of that very bacon her sister loved as she kicked off her boots in the mudroom.
“Hello?” she called.
Benny came running into the kitchen, sock-sliding at the mudroom door. “Did you know I have an Uncle Jack?”
She looked up from her boot, a little surprised that would be news to Benny, who picked up every nuance of every conversation. “Yes. Why?”
“He’s here!”
Cindy froze. “What?”
She looked right over Benny’s shoulder, and there stood the man she’d once promised to love, honor, and cherish till death parted them. She blinked, her head suddenly light, her heart dropping to the floor, and her brain registering one insane thought.
Jack.That’swho Henry Lassiter reminded her of. Confident, handsome, look-right-into-your-soul Flying Jack Kessler.
“What are you doing here?” she croaked.
“Nicole convinced me to come back for a month and run the sleigh rides.”
She stared at him, nothing making sense or registering.Nicole…did…what?
He took a step closer. “I know you’re in a bind, Cin. And I’m here to help.”
For a moment, she couldn’t hear or think or breathe. All she could do was look up at a man she’d once loved so much it physically hurt.
“I can run the sleigh rides and we’ll pack this place with happy guests and paying passengers, enough to save your December and cover that tax bill.” After a beat of silence, he dipped a little lower and she could have sworn he was going to kiss her. “Is that okay?”
What could she say? No? And why did every cell in her body just melt like a snowflake on sun-warmed stone? “That’s…that’s…”
“A great idea, right, Mom?” Nicole swept in, her dark eyes glinting with hope and…mostly just hope. Hope that she would agree to this wild and wrong and…wonderfulidea.
Cindy nodded and managed a deep breath. “It really is,” she whispered.
And, oddly enough, she meant it.
Red knew better than to go for thirds. He knew it right around the time he went for seconds, honestly. But MJ’s rosemary beef stew had been bubbling on the stove all afternoon, and by the time he’d torn into his second hunk of crusty sourdough, slathered with whipped garlic butter, he’d already lost the will to resist.
Now he was stuffed like a Christmas goose and trying not to groan in front of his daughters, granddaughters, great-grandson, and the man he used to call son-in-law…back when he liked him.
“Well, that might be the best thing I’ve eaten since your mother’s beef bourguignon,” he declared, leaning back in the head chair at the long pine kitchen table.
MJ beamed across the table, her cheeks flushed from the compliment—or maybe just the heat from the oven. “That’s high praise, Dad.”
Red didn’t respond. He just reached for his water glass and caught Jack glancing at Cindy. Looking at her like…like he shouldn’t have left.
Well, I coulda told you that ten years ago, ya big lug nut.
Cindy was quieter than usual, probably still in shock that Nicole had gone to Vermont, come home five days early and brought…baggage.
