“They’re not my children.” There, now he knew.
“I get it. They’re your husband’s,” Max asked, a hint of annoyance overshadowing his handsome features.
Enjoying the verbal duel, Grace said, “I’m not married.”
Max shook his head. “Look, lady, I’m tired. Either tell me what I want to know, or first thing in the morning, I’ll have no choice but to contact the authorities. A lone woman out on a night like this. Two kids who don’t belong to her. You tell me, what would you think if the situation were reversed?”
Grace realized he was right. She’d enjoyed toying with him for some odd reason, but to do so at the girls’ expense was totally out of character for her. This man had allowed three complete strangers into his home. No matter how rude or inquisitive, it was wrong to let him think she was anyone other than herself.
Giving her a brutal, and very unfriendly stare, he raised his winged brow in question. “So?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led you to believe the girls belonged to me. They came to me, rather their mother came to me, for help. I gave them a place to stay. Tonight, I took the girls to see The Nutcracker at Eagle Valley High. I thought it would give them a chance to enjoy the Christmas season and offer their mom a much-needed respite. And then I encountered the roadblock on my way home. You know the rest of the story.” Satisfied with her answer since she hadn’t betrayed Stephanie’s confidence, Grace waited for Max to say something. Anything. When several seconds passed, and he still hadn’t spoken, she did.
“You look at me as though I’ve…committed a crime or something! What?” Grace asked, beyond flustered, not liking these feelings one little bit.
“I’m trying to decide if you have. Or not.”
They stared at each other across the bed. His blue eyes darkened as he held her verdant gaze. Grace held his infuriating stare with an equally wicked one of her own. It was as though they were playing a game. Dueling eyes.
Max’s stare wavered for a second. Watching him with a professional eye, Grace detected a glimmer of sadness behind his hard glare. Like a wave slamming against her, Grace surmised this man had known sorrow. A very deep and personal sorrow. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? She didn’t know. Maybe the fact that her carelessness had caused two little girls and their mother unnecessary worry? Blinded by her own stupidity. Pure and simple. There was no other explanation for her not seeing between the lines where this angry man was concerned.
Tearing her glance away from Max, Grace walked over to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Are you girls finished in there?”
When she didn’t get a reply, she knocked again. “Amanda? Ashley?”
Max was behind her now, concern etched on his face. “I have a key around here somewhere.”
“I don’t think the door is locked.” Grace tried the knob. Sure enough, it turned in her hand. She stepped inside, fearful that something had happened to the pair. When she didn’t see them, her heart skipped a beat. Then another.
“They’re not in here!” she shouted to Max. “Is there a door…?”
“This is the only way in or out.”
“Ashley! Amanda!” Grace called. “This isn’t funny.”
A noise, something that sounded like a “shhh” came from the direction of the oversized tub. Grace looked at Max, who’d come up behind her. She placed a finger to her lips. He nodded. She walked over to the tub, where both girls were huddled, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.
“Amanda, Ashley,” Grace stated softly as she stared down into twin sets of brown eyes.
“We got scared, Miss Grace,” Ashley explained.
“It’s okay, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Grace coaxed.
“We’re afraid of him,” Amanda said, pointing a small finger at Max, who stood behind Grace.
Momentarily at a loss for words, Grace didn’t know what to say. Both girls had been through so much. Max wasn’t a friendly man at all; no wonder they were terrified of him.
With an air of exasperation, Max said, “Hey, I promise not to bite, okay?”
Grace thought he could’ve chosen his words better, could’ve softened his tone somewhat, but at least this was a start.
“See? Mr. Jorgenson isn’t angry,” Grace said, as both girls began their climb from the tub.
As innocent children often do, Amanda said the first thing that came to mind, “Then why doesn’t he have a Christmas tree? You said all happy families have Christmas trees. Isn’t Mr. Jorgenson happy? Does he have a family?” Amanda asked Grace.
Good questions, she thought, eyeing their host. “I’m afraid that’s Mr. Jorgenson’s personal business, sweetie. It’s one of those questions that your mother wouldn’t want you to ask.”
“It is?” Amanda looked to her older sister for confirmation.
“I think so,” Ashley said, sounding as unsure as Grace felt.
“Let’s not worry about Mr. Jorgenson right now, girls. It’s really, really late. At this rate we won’t have much time to sleep before it’ll be time to get up and go back to the van. Now, let’s get you all snuggled up in this big comfy bed, and I’ll tell you a Christmas story.”
Both girls jumped on the bed and slid beneath the covers, eyeing Grace expectantly.
“Once upon a time…”
Chapter 4
Max stormed out of the room before the kid could pose any more nosy questions. He hadn’t missed the questioning look from the woman. Grace. He’d be damned before he revealed his personal life to a total stranger. It was one thing to invite them into his home; he really hadn’t had a choice. It didn’t mean he had to get chummy with them. Though he admitted to himself, the girls were cute and seemed well behaved. But not his problem.
Downstairs in the den, Max aimed the remote at the giant plasma television. Nothing happened. He tried again, then concluded the satellite was out. That was nothing new, especially during a snowstorm.
When he’d purchased the land at the height of his career several years ago, he’d assumed that by the time he built a vacation home, not having cable TV, satellite TV, not to mention Internet service, would be something he’d never have to worry about. Of course, he’d built his so-called vacation home a lot sooner than he’d originally planned. Blow Out Hill was still as undeveloped as it had been two years ago, when he’d moved into the giant log home.
This was supposed to be his and Kayla’s, and any children they’d had, home away from home, from the mansion in Denver that he’d practically given away after Kayla’s death. When he had purchased the land, he’d envisioned teaching his kids to ski on Powder Rise, the mountain, albeit a small one, behind the house. Those were dreams, and nothing more.
All his hope for the future died when Kayla, a police officer, was shot and killed in the line of duty two years earlier
