rolled her eyes in obvious exasperation. “I know he doesn’t bite, but why would I hold him?”
“I need to check on the generator, see if we can get some power running.”
“Perhaps I can do that for you,” she said, still avoiding taking the baby.
“It’s easier if I do it. I know exactly where it is and how to operate it. I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Fine,” she said, her irritation clear in her tone. “Be quick.”
Piers watched as she nestled the baby against her, her movements sure and hinting of a physical memory that intrigued him. He liked seeing this side of her, even though she was so reluctant to display it.
It didn’t take long to check the generator, which was housed in a small shed at the back of the house. Getting it going, however, took a little longer. In the end he’d had to pull his gloves off to get the job done. His fingers were turning white in reaction to the cold by the time he wrestled the shed door closed and reentered the house.
He’d expected the house to be blazing with light and sound when he got back in but instead all he could hear was a gentle humming coming from the kitchen. He followed the sound and discovered Faye in the kitchen with the baby, one-handedly making up a bottle of formula for Casey while humming a little tune that seemed to hold the baby transfixed. The humming stopped the instant she saw him.
“I thought you were going to be quick. Problems?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He glanced out into the main room. “No tree lights?”
“I thought it best not to draw too much on the generator if we could avoid it,” Faye replied, ducking her head.
He suspected her decision may have more to do with her unexplained and very obvious disdain of the festive season than with any need to conserve power. His backup generator could keep a small factory running, but he wasn’t about to argue.
“Where were you planning to have Casey sleep tonight?” she asked, her back turned to him.
“I hadn’t actually thought that far. I guess in the bed with me. He’ll be warmer that way, won’t he?”
“There’s a lot of data against co-sleeping with a baby. To be honest, I think you’d do better to make him up a type of crib out of one of your dresser drawers or even a large cardboard box. You’ll need to fold up a blanket or several towels to make a firm mattress base and he’ll probably be okay with his knitted baby blanket over him. Your room should be warm enough with the central heat.”
Piers couldn’t help it, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. She could have been quoting a baby care manual. How did she know this stuff?
“Okay, I’ll get on it right away, but before I go I have to ask. How do you know these things?”
She shrugged her slender shoulders beneath the overlarge sweater he’d given her. “It’s just common sense, really. By the way, I’ll make up an extra bottle for Casey in case he needs a night feeding. It’ll be in the fridge here.”
“A night feeding?”
She sighed and shook her head. “You really know absolutely nothing about babies, do you?”
“Guilty as charged. They haven’t really been on my radar until now. Do you think it’s safe for me to look after him on my own tonight? Don’t you think it would be better if you—”
“Oh, no, don’t involve me. I’m already doing more than I wanted to. Here.” She passed him the baby. “You feed him. I’ll go make up a bed for him in your room.”
And before he could stop her, she did just that. Piers looked down at the solemn little boy in his arms.
“We’re going to get to the bottom of it eventually, Casey, my boy. One way or another, I’m going to get through those layers she’s got built up around her.”
The sun was barely up when Faye gave up all pretense of trying to sleep. All night her mind had raced over ways she could get out of this situation. By 3:00 a.m. she’d decided that, no matter the dent in her savings, she’d call a helicopter to come rescue her if necessary. Anything to get out of there. In the literally cold light of day that didn’t appear to be such a rational solution to her dilemma. After all, it wasn’t as if she was in an emergency situation.
At least the storm had passed, she noted as she shoved her heavy drapes aside to expose a clear sky and a landscape blanketed in white. There was a tranquil stillness about it that had a calming effect on her weary nerves, right up until she heard the excited squawk of an infant followed by the low rumble that was Piers’s response.
She had to admit that he’d stepped up to the plate pretty well last night. By the time she’d made up the makeshift crib in Piers’s room and returned downstairs, he’d competently fed and changed the baby. And later, when she’d instructed him on how to bathe Casey, he’d handled the slippery wee man with confidence and ease and no small amount of laughter. For the briefest moment she’d forgotten why she was even at the lodge and had caught herself on the verge of laughing with them. But she didn’t deserve that kind of happiness. Not after what she’d done to her own family.
It was true, people said the crash hadn’t been her fault. But she had to live every day with her choices, which included pestering her beloved stepdad to let her drive home that Christmas Eve. Her mom had expressed her concern but Ellis had agreed with Faye, telling her mother the girl needed the experience on the icy roads. And now they were all gone. Her mom. Ellis. And her adorable baby brother.
Tears burned at the backs of Faye’s eyes and she looked up at the ceiling, refusing to allow them to fall. She’d grieved. Oh, how she’d grieved. And she’d borne her punishment stoically these past years. Rising with each new dawn, putting one foot in front of the other. Doing what had to be done. And never letting anyone close.
She turned from the window and her memories and went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Thankfully, she’d be able to wear her own clothing today, but as she passed Piers’s neatly folded sweater on top of her dresser she couldn’t help but wistfully stroke the outline of the crooked snowman on its front.
“What’s the matter with you, woman?” she said out loud. “You hate Christmas and you’re not in the least bit interested in Piers that way.”
Liar.
Her fingertips automatically rose to her lips as she remembered that kiss, but then she rubbed her fingers hard across them, as if by doing so she could somehow wipe away the physical recall her body seemed determined to hold on to. She turned on the shower and stripped off the T-shirt Piers had given her to sleep in. Hoping against hope that the symbolic action of peeling the last thing of his off her body would also remove any lingering ideas said body had about her boss at the same time.
Now that the storm was gone, with any luck she’d be able to get away from there, and Piers and Casey, before she fell any deeper under their spell. But even the best laid plans seemed fated to go awry.
As she crunched down the snow-covered private road to her car she
