“I don’t know what else to do.”
They stood there, motionless, the firelight flickering between them.
Then Rhys turned away first, jaw set, control clamped tight.“Then I guess that’s it,” he said, his voice quietly.“Goodnight, Cat.”
She didn’t move.“Goodnight.”
She listened to his footsteps on the stairs, and then fading down the hall, listening until there was no sound at all.
She wasn’t angry.Not at him.Not even at herself.She was exhausted though.After a moment, she turned off the tree lights, checked the lock on the front door, and climbed the narrow stairs to her room.The cottage was cold at the top, and her room doubly chilly.She slipped into her flannel pajamas and then climbed between the covers, shivering.She hadn’t pulled the drapes and from her bed she watched the snow fall, a silent swirling veil of white.
Cat woke to a pale gray morning, the snow had stopped sometime in the night, and what remained on the ground was patchy and light.Downstairs, she could hear Rhys moving about—drawers opening, the low hum of the kettle, the sound of a new day beginning.
When she entered the kitchen, he was already dressed, crisp and efficient, as if the night before had never happened.He looked up briefly, nodded, then poured himself coffee.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice quiet.
“Morning.”He didn’t meet her eyes.
The silence stretched between them.He added milk to his mug, stirred once, and set the spoon aside with careful precision.“Got a few emails to catch up on,” he said.“Work never really stops.”
“Right,” she murmured.
He took his mug with him and went to his chair in the sitting room.She stood there for a moment, feeling something sharp and hollow open in her chest.The cottage suddenly seemed too small for both of them.She couldn’t breathe.She had to get out.
Cat dressed quickly, pulled on boots, and set out on the path toward the main house.The cold air stung her cheeks, the thin snow squeaking underfoot.The walk should have cleared her head, but her thoughts tangled with every step—Rhys’s voice, Rhys’s anger, Rhys’s rejection.
The red brick house loomed through the trees.The holiday tours were over, and all the crews gone until next December.But the light was on in the kitchen, and she pushed open the side door, dogs barking and racing toward her.Alec’s dogs.They went everywhere with him.
Alec emerged from the kitchen, holding a toddler in each arm.“Happy New Year’s Eve,” he said.
Cat blinked.“Is it?I didn’t realize.”
“Just finished giving these two breakfast.Are you looking for Mrs.Johnson, Mrs.Booth or…”
“Your wife.”Cat struggled to hold her smile.“If she’s not too busy.”
“She’s finishing a call, should be off any moment.Head to the music room, you’ll find her there.”
Cat followed the sound of Cara’s voice to the music room, and Cara was saying goodbye and hanging up even as Cat entered the pretty blue room.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite American neighbor,” Cara said, her tone light but her eyes perceptive.“You look like someone who’s been thinking too much.”
“I have.Do you have a few minutes?”Tears stung Cat’s eyes.“I’m… I…”
“Sit, Cat.It’s okay.”
Cat sank into one of the chairs near the window.Her hands knotted together, fingers twisting.“Why is trying to do the right thing so hard?”She looked at Cara and dashed away a tear before it could fall.“I have to go home.Rhys doesn’t understand.He thinks if he wills it, he can make all our differences and problems go away.”
“What are those problems?”
“He has children.”Cat struggled to take a calming breath.“Children I adore, but children who don’t want to lose their father… especially not to me.”
“You know this?”
“Jillian told me to leave her father alone.And because I was hired to be the nanny, I agreed with her, and assured her that I wasn’t after her father.”
Cara tilted her head.“But?”
