seemed to search through layers of clothing, chilling her to the bone.
The large farmhouse had a wraparound porch; electric candles lit the many windows, and a large, live pine wreath festooned with tiny glazed ceramic apples, acorns and holly berries was attached to the front door. Mia turned the knob and the door opened. She couldn’t believe people actually went to bed without locking their doors at night. She’d grown up where not only were doors locked at all times, but the house and property was wired and monitored by cameras and a 24/7 security company. She knew it would take her a while to adjust to living and working in a small town.
Stepping onto a thick coir mat, Mia stomped the snow off the soles of her boots before she leaned over to unlace them. She left the Doc Martens on a rag rug lined with boots and shoes. Two dimly lit hurricane lamps on either end of a long wooden table revealed a highly polished walnut floor. Her gaze shifted to the smoldering stone fireplace facing her, and the sweet smell of burning kindling mingled with a scent she recognized as pine. She walked into the living room, smiling. A live pine tree decorated in tiny white lights was positioned near the arched entryway to the dining room. The miniature lights were the same as those that had decorated the barn where Xavier and Selena held their wedding reception. However, these blinked off and on like twinkling stars.
Selena, who’d also removed her shoes, joined her in the living room. “If you follow me I’ll show you where you’ll sleep. I’m giving you my old room, because it’s on the top floor and soundproof. That way you can sleep as late as you want and not hear whatever ruckus is going on down here.”
Mia followed Selena as she mounted the staircase, which had a massive mahogany banister and carved newel posts. She couldn’t wait until daylight to see the magnificent beauty of the wood in the farmhouse. Their sock-covered feet were silent as they climbed the staircase from the first to the third floor. Standing on the landing, she saw there were three doors.
Selena opened one door, reached in and flicked on a switch, and the room where she’d spent her childhood was flooded with soft light from a ceiling fan. She stood to one side as Mia walked in, her eyes taking in everything in what had at one time been her sanctuary.
“Awesome, isn’t it?”
Mia nodded numbly. A four-poster bed, draped in a gossamer fabric, was positioned in an alcove facing another recessed area with a massive armoire fashioned out of the same dark mahogany wood. A window seat running the width of the room could easily accommodate six people. The grate in a stone fireplace, similar to the one in the living room, held a supply of firewood. A large bronze bucket was filled with wood and kindling. Someone hadn’t bothered to close the screen.
“It’s incredible,” she said, when she found her voice. “Who designed this room?”
“My grandfather. He built this house and most of the furniture in it. If he hadn’t been a carpenter or furniture maker he would have become a coal miner. Speaking of furniture, there’s a TV and a collection of DVDs in the armoire.”
“Do you have relatives who are or were miners?” Mia asked.
Selena nodded. “There are several generations of miners on my grandmother’s side of the family. Grandma Lily lost two brothers and an uncle in an explosion, and she vowed that none of her children would ever work in a mine. She did everything, taking in wash, making and selling quilts and even babysitting to put away enough money to send my father and aunt to college. Dad majored in criminal justice and he’s now sheriff of Matewan, and Kenyon’s mother is an expert when it comes to textile designs. Aunt Sylvia’s weaving and quilts are exhibited in the American Folk Art Museum in New York City, and she has donated a collection of quilts to the Textile Heritage Museum in Burlington, North Carolina. Thankfully, my paternal grandfather was the last one to work as a coal miner.”
Mia smiled. One of her questions had been answered. Selena’s father and Kenyon’s mother were siblings. There were a few more questions Mia wanted to ask, but she decided it would be impolite to pry. She didn’t know what it was about Kenyon that elicited more than a passing interest. Although he hadn’t worn a ring, she didn’t know if he was married, single or committed to someone. And, if he was committed then the woman could count herself lucky to have snared such a gorgeous male specimen.
The object of her musings chose that moment to walk into the bedroom carrying her luggage. He’d removed his jacket, and the long-sleeved waffle-weave shirt couldn’t conceal the power in his upper body. Her eyes went to the silver buckle on his belt, but she wasn’t close enough to read the inscription on the ornate piece.
“Thank you for bringing up my bags.”
Kenyon nodded, and then set the tote and Pullman on the floor next to the door. “If you’ve made plans to go to Jonesburg tomorrow, then scrap them.”
A slight frown appeared between Mia’s eyes. “Why?”
“I just got an email that because of blizzard conditions the governor has declared a snow emergency for Mingo, McDowell and Wyoming counties. Only emergency vehicles carrying essential personnel will be permitted on the roads.”
Mia folded her arms under her breasts. “Can’t I ride along with you? Dr. Lyman is expecting me Monday.”
“No, you can’t ride along with me, because I’m staying here until the road is clear.”
“But…but aren’t you the sheriff?”
A slow smile spread across Kenyon’s face, the expression making him even more appealing. “I do have deputies who are more than capable of filling in for me. Once the roads are plowed I will give you a police escort to Jonesburg.”
Mia lowered her arms. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“No, you don’t.”
Selena glanced at her watch. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to try and get at least four hours of sleep before I have to get up and start baking. Mia, you’re a guest, so you can sleep in as late as you want.”
Mia wanted to tell Selena she doubted if she was going to get up late because she’d slept during the flight from Philadelphia to Pikesville. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“It’s already morning,” Kenyon said, reminding her that it was after four in the morning.
Selena took Kenyon’s arm. “Let’s go, wise guy. Mia, the bathroom is the middle door in the landing.”
“Thanks.”
“There’s no need to thank me. After all, we are family.”
After all, we are family. The five words stayed with Mia as she opened her luggage to retrieve a nightgown and grooming supplies. Selena may have considered her family, but she doubted whether Kenyon did. There was no doubt he thought of her as an outsider, an interloper who should’ve stayed in the big city. Well, it didn’t matter what he thought or how he viewed her, she wasn’t going anywhere. She’d come to Mingo County to practice medicine and no one—and that included the law—would stop her from fulfilling her commitment to give the residents of Jonesburg the best care she could provide.
Even though the attic bedroom was warm, the lace-trimmed silk garment was definitely not warm enough for West Virginia’s winter. It seemed as if she would have to trade in Victoria’s Secret for L.L. Bean. She took out a matching robe, placing the garments on the foot of the large bed. Sleeping in the bed draped with yards of fabric
