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“Maybe.” She didn’t think that for a moment, but maybe she was looking too deeply for meaning that didn’t exist.
“And what do you make of our companions?”
“Brooke and Matt?” That was easier to answer. “Brooke is pretty stressed although she’s trying not to show it. She’s trying to be upbeat for the girls even though it’s hard.” And she admired that. “She’s a great mother.” She thought about the way Brooke had touched her daughter’s hair, how she’d been quick to reassure and protect. And then there was the Careless Witch book, passed down from mother to daughter and clearly much-loved.
An ache grew inside her. She wondered if those two little girls knew how lucky they were.
“She and Matt were obviously having a fight in the car.” Jason grinned. “I love Elsie. She says what she thinks. My niece is the same. It’s hilarious. At least I find it hilarious. My sister doesn’t always agree.”
“How old is your niece?”
“Seven. About the same age as Elsie, I’m guessing.”
“She’s going to be there at Christmas?”
“My niece? Yes.” He shrugged. “Family gathering, which basically means too much talking and drinking.”
She imagined them, gathered round the tree, hanging stockings above the fireplace and unwrapping presents. They’d be chatting to each other, catching up, eager to hear each other’s news.
She didn’t want to think about it. It was like rubbing herself with sandpaper.
Still, she couldn’t stop herself probing for more information. “What have you bought her?”
“For Christmas? A crime lab kit. I’m anticipating that she’ll spend the whole of Christmas fingerprinting everyone. I’ve been planning all the heinous crimes I could commit. Festive themed, of course. Stealing the Christmas pudding. Eating her Christmas chocolate.”
She laughed. “Hiding her Christmas gifts.”
“That’s a good one.” He gave a resigned shrug. “Thanks to the weather, my criminal tendencies might have to be put on hold for a little longer.”
The conversation had steadied her. Or maybe it was because he was safely seated by the windows and not standing close to her. Whichever it was, she felt more comfortable now that the disturbing moment of intimacy had passed. Her nerves had stopped jumping and her stomach had stopped squirming.
“I’m sorry you won’t be there.”
And she was. They deserved to have him home. She wasn’t sure which was worse—having people you loved gathered together and not being able to join them or not having anyone at all.
The second, she thought. At least he knew someone would miss him. They’d raise a glass in his absence—Jason. Such a shame he can’t be here this year.
No one was going to know or care that she was stranded. No one would be raising a glass in her absence.
“There are worse places to spend Christmas than this,” Jason said. “In fact, it might be fun.” His gaze held hers for a moment and her heart thudded hard against her chest because that dangerous feeling was back. It hadn’t disappeared at all. It had simply retreated for a moment.
And what did he mean by fun? Was he talking about the house? The snow? Her?
No. That wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t let it happen.
She kept her focus on the room. “This is a pretty special place, that’s true.”
“It’s a good thing we came in one car. Otherwise, we might have crashed into different snowdrifts. At least we’re in this together.”
Together. The word was loaded with possibilities, those possibilities intensified by their surroundings.
Here they were, stranded in the most romantic room that had ever been designed. Snow was coming down heavily outside the windows, the world outside a constant swirl of white.
“I really am sorry about the car.”
“Don’t be.” His gaze softened. “We could have both been killed if it weren’t for your skillful driving. Hopefully, one of us will get a signal soon and then at least we can let people know we’re okay. They’re bound to be worrying.”
“Yes.”
