notes. He would sort them out when he got back. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to open another card, smile at another caroler or wallow in the home-and-hearth happiness that was supposed to pervade the season.
If he didn’t get away from all the tinsel and glitter and glad tidings in the city, he was going to go crazy. And at times like this, he’d found it was best to follow his heart…follow it back home to Willow Glen.
Chapter One
He’d have to sleep somewhere. It might as well be here.
Willow Glen Plantation had seemed like a mansion to him the first time he had visited the massive house. It still impressed him with its sprawling front lawn, welcoming circular driveway, broad veranda, cheerful turrets and dormer windows. After spending the happiest times of his life here from age ten until college, Tucker had been devastated when Chris’s parents sold the place shortly after he and his friend went off to college. Will Carlton, the county’s antiques dealer, had done some minor remodeling on the home and turned it into a charming bed-and-breakfast inn.
An elderly gentleman, apparently just returning home from a Christmas shopping excursion, went in ahead of him and held the door for Tucker to follow him.
“If I were you, son, I wouldn’t wait out here too long. Dinner will be served soon, and believe me, you don’t want to miss it.”
Inside, garlands and running cedar were strewn from every conceivable surface: the front desk, the mahogany banister rail that led upstairs, even the chandelier that hung from the parlor ceiling.
Although modern fixtures and a front desk, complete with an antique cash register, had been added, the place hadn’t changed much over the years. It even smelled the same, like cranberries and pine and…what was that other smell? Tucker set his duffel bag down beside the curved-wood desk and closed his eyes while he inhaled the scent. In his mind, he could almost see Chris and Mr. and Mrs. Newland. He’d spent so much time in this house, sleeping here more than he’d slept at home, that he had become part of the family—so much a member of the family, in fact, that the elder Newlands had assigned him chores to perform. One Saturday a month, he and Chris were handed soft rags and a bottle of furniture polish to rub on the furniture, the banister and any other exposed wood, which constituted almost half the house.
He opened his eyes. That was the scent. Furniture polish. Maybe even the same brand.
An older woman, possibly more ancient than the gentleman who’d preceded him in, approached them. “Oren, dear,” she said, addressing the other guest, “it’s so good to see you again.” She kissed his cheek, leaving a peach lip print on the gray stubble. Nodding toward the parlor where a group of guests had gathered, she added, “Your wife has been anxiously waiting for you.”
The old man picked up his shopping bag and moved to join his wife.
Must be a regular, Tucker thought. The lady of the lip prints fixed her attention on him, scrutinizing him from head to toe and back again. “Well, aren’t you a fine-looking young man. I’m Aunt Shirley,” she declared.
That was a strange way to greet a guest, but he attributed the overfamiliarity to her advanced age. He gave her a warm smile. “Tucker Maddock, ma’am. I was hoping you’d have room at the inn for one more.”
Aunt Shirley opened her mouth and laughed, the infectious sound attracting the attention of the people in the parlor. “He wants to know if we have room at the inn,” she told them. They seemed to find it funny as well and laughed among themselves. One woman, a dark-haired beauty who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, caught his eye as she sat threading popcorn onto a string. Apparently feeling the heat of his perusal, she looked up. As they gazed openly at each other, Tucker felt the room grow suddenly warmer. He loosened the collar of his jacket.
A teenage girl followed the brunette’s gaze and peered around the arched doorway at him. When she caught a glimpse of him, she blushed and drew back.
The brunette seemed to be studying him curiously from her overstuffed chair, as if he looked familiar to her but she couldn’t place his face. But Tucker was sure they’d never met. If they had, he most certainly would have remembered her.
Her legs were drawn up beneath her in the chair. Long, slim limbs encased in charcoal-gray fabric that coordinated with the bulky gray-green top that seemed to swallow her small features. Her dark hair spilled in disarray over the plush material, bringing to mind an image of her cuddled in bed under piles of blankets.
Her brown eyes slanted downward at the outer edges, making her look as though she’d just awakened from a long, luxurious sleep, and her lips seemed to be made for kissing.
Tucker involuntarily drew the back of his hand across his mouth.
She watched his idle gesture and her chin came forward, causing her pale pink mouth to pucker invitingly.
Ruth pushed a wild and wavy strand of hair away from her face. She’d been working hard to make this—possibly their last— Christmas family reunion the best one ever. And this latest arrival, though unexpected, certainly promised to make it one of their most interesting family gatherings. The way the stranger’s gaze roamed over her made her feel almost intoxicated. She tried to still the crazy inner stirrings that made her feel decidedly light-headed.
Stop that! she commanded herself. It was sick to lust like this over a family member, no matter how distant the ties might be. No matter how tall and broad shouldered he might be. No matter how touchable his collar-length brown hair was or how his dark eyes seemed to penetrate right into her and read her very thoughts. Dragging her gaze away from him, she looked across the room at her sister. Vivian hadn’t yet noticed the newest addition to their family reunion.
Ruth smiled and returned her attention to the handsome stranger. He smiled back. This was one hunk her older sister wouldn’t snag. Unfortunately, he was off-limits to Ruth, as well.
She considered getting up and joining her aunt in greeting the family members who came here from throughout the state to attend their Christmas reunion, a regular event since they’d bought the former hotel eight years ago. Though she’d grown up in Willow Glen, it wasn’t until she’d moved into the old plantation house that she’d finally felt truly at home.
Aunt Shirley seemed to be holding her own. Now that the preliminary cleaning and cooking were done, she was in her element, reacquainting herself with family members from near and far.
Aunt Shirley turned back to Tucker. “You have such a wonderful sense of humor. Of course we have room. And we’d make room if we didn’t.”
“Uh, thank you, ma’am.” He reached down and picked up his duffel bag. “If you’ll point the way and give me a key, I’ll just head on to my room.”
“Call me Aunt Shirley. Everyone else does.” She went behind the polished counter and refastened a paper Santa that adorned the wall. “As for keys, you don’t need them here, honey. Nobody will mess with your stuff. Oren sleepwalks sometimes, but you can latch your door from the inside while you sleep.”
Tucker frowned. He was familiar with mom-and-pop establishments, but this one beat all. However, room security shouldn’t be a problem since he intended to be there the entire time. If the room didn’t have a VCR, he could buy one and numb his brain with action-adventure movies for the holiday. Escape into the happiness of the past until the relentless false cheeriness of the season had subsided. As he faced his
