it be him? Was she seeing things?
Dianne braced herself on the arm of the settee and rose, slow and slightly unsteady, her eyes trained on her daughter. In a flash, Julie had her arm around her mother’s waist. She left it there until Dianne grasped her walker’s handles. “We still need to finalize the seating charts. And you haven’t okayed the centerpieces.”
“We can do that later. I really need to get out.”
And clear my head, she added silently. See if the man outside is my ex.
She stepped out of her gown and yanked on the running gear she’d brought. Good thing she’d already planned on the jog. As she walked beside her mother through the door, she heard the seamstress barking orders to the rest of the groaning and griping bridal party.
Poor woman. Julie would personally invite her to the reception as a thank-you for taking this job with such little notice. How many guests would that make? Eighty-five? Eighty-six? Even though it wasn’t a huge wedding, with most of their guests staying at the lodge to take advantage of this ski and spa holiday, it felt almost unmanageable. Thank goodness for the lodge’s upbeat, efficient events planner, Grace.
After knocking to ensure her father wasn’t inside and changing, she inserted the old-fashioned key to her parents’ room and led her mother to the bed.
“I don’t need this much help, Julie.” Dianne clamped a hand around the carved headboard and let go of the walker. “When you and Mason get married, there won’t be any need for you to come over after work.”
“Of course I will.” Confusion twisted through Julie. Didn’t her mother want her to check in? Didn’t she appreciate her company on the many nights her father worked late? “What do you mean?”
Dianne kicked off her heels before lying down. “I’m going to ask Janelle to move in with us. She can have your apartment in the guest house and I’ll have full-time care. She needs a place to stay now that her husband’s gone, and you need to focus on Mason. He’s your priority now, isn’t he?” Her mother raised an eyebrow.
Julie thought of the many evenings Mason, too, worked late, and of his weekend squash matches. Mason filled up his own time card. One of the things he said he loved about her was her undemanding nature; he liked his space. As for her, she liked his dependability. His life ran like a solar-powered watch.
“But you need me, Mom.”
“Of course I do, sweetie. Let’s talk it over later.” Dianne yawned, then squeezed Julie’s hand.
“Are you tired?” Concern spiked. Caring for her mother—and the accounting job Mason had encouraged her to quit so she could finally pursue her passion for photography—had been Julie’s life these past eight years. What would it be like when her free time became her own? Her mind ran over the possibilities and came up pathetically empty. The thought of snapping photos of their suburban town’s car wash and minimart didn’t match the dream that had come to her in college of traveling the globe, capturing the essence of foreign cultures through her lens. She’d wanted to be more adventurous then. Another person. Someone she no longer knew...
“I’m a little tired.” A faint smile lifted her mom’s lips. “Would you shut the curtains? I’ll take a nap until you get back.”
“I’ll bring you tea.” Julie checked her watch. “Your medicines will be due then, too.” Julie headed to the window and stared at the forest trail below, hopeful that the Austin look-alike wouldn’t be too far away before she got out there.
“Have a good run, sweetheart.”
Julie kissed her mother, grabbed the chocolate mints off the nightstand and headed outside.
Darn it, she deserved a cheat. All three candies disappeared before she’d descended the large, curved staircase into the vaulted foyer. Ah. Sweet chocolate. If only it cured what ailed her. Hopefully, the exercise would give her the boost she needed.
“Going for a run, Miss Barrett?” asked the attractive, thirtysomething desk clerk. Noelle, Julie recalled.
“Yes. I hope it’s not too cold for it. It snowed earlier.” Julie pulled on her fleece and glanced down at her black spandex leggings.
A boom of laughter erupted from a group of men she recognized as Mason’s out-of-town uncles. They stood before a towering tree made of potted white poinsettias with red berry strings and lighted pinecones woven among them. In the center of the wall rose a two-story stone fireplace. Oversize gold ornaments hung from above, sparkling under the entwined-birch chandelier’s lights.
Beautiful.
A few men glanced over, their eyes lingering on the pretty auburn-haired woman behind the counter. Her pixie features looked as otherworldly as this place.
Without seeming to notice the attention—or was she just used to it?—Noelle consulted a temperature gauge mounted on a tongue-and-groove wall. “Thirty degrees. You’ll be warm in minutes and the snow shower tapered off a few moments ago.”
“Thanks. You haven’t seen Dr. Stanton, have you?”
Mason often lectured her on the damage running inflicted on her knees. She still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to participate in a charity run the day before their wedding even though he disapproved of the sport. But when he’d heard it benefited MS, he’d jumped in, the supportive man who never let her down. After this event, she’d stop, she’d promised him, and she would, once they said their vows. Until then, she’d take every chance she could to push her body through space. There was something primal and liberating about conquering distances with nothing but her feet and her will.
Noelle’s green eyes twinkled. “He’s gone into town with a few of the groomsmen. They mentioned the Tail-of-the-Pup.”
Ah. The pub they’d passed on the drive in. Good for him. As for her, she needed air and hard exertion...and Alexis. If she did run into Austin, it’d be good to have her best friend by her side.
With a wave, she shoved open the leaded-glass doors. Her breath formed white clouds as she stepped onto the pine deck and pulled on her gloves. After a few stretches and jumps to get her blood flowing, she trotted down the hewn-log stairs and passed a sleigh bedecked in Christmas garland and silver bells. Ribbons adorned a white horse’s bridle and a bundled family passed around open thermoses of what smelled like cocoa while jabbering about a trip to Santa’s Village.
She neared the entrance to the trail and soon the dense forest enveloped her. Icy patches crunched under her speeding feet. She moved into the shadows and down narrow paths enclosed by dark spiky weaves of branches, past leaning trunks wrapped with years of ivy, through smells of cold earth and wet layers of leaves. She rounded a bend and jerked to a stop to avoid a man barreling her way.
Something about his sure, athletic stride, the sharp angle of his square jaw and the sculpted chest revealed by his damp T-shirt froze the air in her lungs.
When the tall man pulled up, she angled her head and met warm brown eyes beneath tousled, sandy-blond hair. His eyes widened in recognition and a whole percussion section burst to life in her chest. It was Austin.
She backed against a bare maple, trying to hush the pounding.
For years, she’d told herself she was glad he’d never come for her. But as she studied that
