a little gossip with whoever stopped in, then work. That was the usual routine at Hawk’s Garage, built on the site of Ezra Packard Hawkins’s smithy. In time, Ezra’s sons had turned it into a carriage-repair business and called itHawkins Livery. With the invention of the automobile, the business was renamed Hawk’s Garage and transformed into a gas station and auto-repair business.
Melanie’s father had added another wing to the garage for classic car restoration and their race-car division. Jack kept the division purposely small, preferring to be very selective in the projects he undertook. Melanie had taken a shine to the intricacies of making antique cars new again, although she still liked to keep her mechanical skills up-to-date in the main repairs and maintenance garage when she had the time.
Brian was less mechanically inclined. Armed with his MBA, he handled the business end and was in charge of finances. Their dad freelanced whenever the spirit moved him.
Melanie always felt secure and loved just knowing that her family was around her. They were her strength, her lifeline. Sure, they worried about her too much and they were overprotective, but she loved them for their support and caring, especially after Mike died.
Melanie sighed. Since last night, she couldn’t stop thinking about Sam LeDoux. Her entire family liked him—and so did everyone else in Hawk’s Lake. What did they know that she didn’t? Was she wrong not to hear him out?
Maybe that would make him feel better, but not her.
She’d always tried to keep her pain to herself. As a kid, she hadn’t had any girlfriends—they couldn’t understand why she’d rather rebuild an engine than chase boys. Her brothers were always hell-bent on teasing her, so they’d be the last two on earth she’d ever confide in. Nor could she talk to her mom, who’d had health issues, and her father had enough worries between her mother being sick and the garage.
So little by little, she’d built a wall around herself—a wall that had become thicker and taller since her marriage.
Lately, she was starting to see the defects in that wall, hairline cracks that continued to grow until it was threatening to fall down around her, leaving her defenses exposed for what they were—lies, halftruths and face-saving devices.
The real truth was that Melanie was afraid of what she might see if she looked inside herself—and too deep into her marriage. There was an empty void in her mind the night of the ice storm. She knew something had happened that night that she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—remember.
Melanie sighed. It’d be so much easier to continue to blame Sam LeDoux than to try and see through the gauzy recesses of her mind.
Tossing and turning all night, she’d thought about the tree lighting and how she’d reacted when she’d found out who he was. She’d become a different woman from the one who had nearly flirted with him earlier—and she didn’t like that side of herself. After all, Sam had only wanted to explain what had happened that fateful night—and she’d shut him down.
It had been easier to dislike him when she hadn’t yet met him, and hadn’t seen the pain in his eyes, an ache so similar to her own.
Did that make her a horrible person?
She found the piece of wood she’d been looking for and walked back into the garage. Another noise signaled that she wasn’t alone. Instead, there was Sam LeDoux himself, leaning against the wall of the garage, wearing a black leather bomber jacket and snug, faded jeans. To her utter mortification, something inside her sizzled.
Why was she so aware of every little detail about him?
“Hello, Melanie. I hope I’m not interrupting you.”
She turned her attention back to the doorjamb, trying to calm the flickers in her belly caused by his deep, sexy voice. “You are.”
Ignoring her response, he asked, “How did you become involved in fixing up antique cars?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I guess I always liked restoring things to their original state—especially old things. My aunt Betty got me into restoring antique furniture first, and cars came next.”
Why was she telling him all this? She focused on the wood in her hands, preparing it for the jigsaw.
“I think it’s wonderful that you’re so successful at it.” He shifted on his feet, and Melanie figured that he had run out of things to say. “Listen, could I buy you a cup of coffee when you’re done?”
She moved her safety goggles into place and flipped the switch on the jig. It roared to life. Sam stood with his hands in his jacket, awaiting her answer. Couldn’t he take a hint?
“I already had coffee,” she finally said over the noise of the saw.
“Okay. Then how about dinner tonight?”
He couldn’t possibly be asking me out, she thought.
She shut off the jig and studied her cut. Perfect. “As you can see, I’m busy.”
“What about the tomorrow night?”
“Busy.”
To avoid looking at him, Melanie walked down to the other side of the car and inspected the grill. She already knew there was nothing wrong with it, but she measured it just for something to do.
As Sam walked toward her, Melanie felt heat rising in her blood. She told herself that it was anger, nothing more. It certainly wasn’t because he was so handsome and she could smell his outdoorsy scent. His friendly smile made her think of his sensuous lips.
Darn it. What was wrong with her?
The sound of his saddle-colored cowboy boots came even closer as he walked across the concrete floor. Unable to help herself, she looked up and saw that his black hair was windblown and damp from the snow.
A telltale blush crept up her neck and settled on her cheeks.
She waited until her father and brother were bent over the engine of Jack’s race car and out of hearing range before she spoke. “What do you want, Sam?”
In the overhead lights, his eyes were like the color of Hawk’s Lake in the summer.
“To talk.”
Melanie could feel him standing behind her, so she went back around to the other side of the car to get away from him.
He huffed out a breath, clearly frustrated by her refusal. “Look, I spoke with Cal. Since my presence is clearly making things uncomfortable for you, I tried to get out of being the grand marshal, but he said that they couldn’t get a replacement at this point.” He shrugged. “I just want you to know that I tried.”
Melanie froze. He’d actually tried to get out of being the grand marshal—for her? That was considerate of him. Maybe she was being too selfish.
Emotions were churning inside her, giving her a pounding headache. A nagging voice inside her chastised her for being unfair. Maybe listening to him would help her put the past to rest and make it easier for her to have a good Christmas with Kyle.
She sighed. “Okay, Sam…I’ll have dinner with you. Tomorrow
