you like to dance?”
“I love to dance but do little of it. I don’t get out often. If I go out, it’s with Lamont Nealey, whom I’ve known forever—the friend I was telling you about last night. When we go out, we go to a movie or something on that order.”
“You think I’m missing out on life,” Josh said, “and I think you are. At the same time, I think we have a bit of common ground where we view life the same way. You’re a family person just as I’m a family person.”
“So tell me about your family.”
He reached across the table and wrapped his fingers lightly around her wrist with his thumb where he could feel her pulse. “Coward,” he accused her softly. “I’ll leave it alone now, but we’ll take up this subject again sometime soon.”
“You didn’t see the sign when you came in that reads ‘Guests do not flirt with the staff,’” she said, smiling at him.
“I sure as hell didn’t see any such sign, and if I had, I would pay no attention to it. Not when I get a response from the staff like the one I’m getting right now,” he said, his thumb pressing slightly on her wrist. “Your pulse is galloping.”
“That means nothing,” she said, too aware of his brown eyes that seemed alert, observant and curious.
“Not where I come from,” he retorted. “You want me to tell you what it means?”
“No. You tell me about your family or I’m going to join the guests in the living room.”
With a faint smile, Josh sat back in his chair. “I have three siblings,” he said. “Two older brothers, Mike and Jake, plus a younger sister, Lindsay.”
She listened, learning about his family but still knowing little about his background. From what he had said last night, she suspected a lot of Texans knew who he was. She had an idea he was well-known by wealthy Texas businessmen and probably by Texas socialites.
She was interrupted when a guest came for a late breakfast. As she served it, Josh poured coffee.
Through the morning he worked, doing whatever she needed, and he was a big help to her. Breakfast was over and the kitchen cleaned by a quarter past ten.
“Josh, thanks so much,” she said. “Now I’ll have a break before lunch, which I’m serving because of the weather. No one can get out for lunch.”
“I’m getting the hang of it. I can help with lunch.”
That surprised her—or maybe it shouldn’t have. “I’m taking a short break. Come back in a little while and we can get started.”
“Sure,” he said, jamming a hand in his pocket and leaving the kitchen.
As she headed out and walked past the library, Mr. Hickman lowered his paper and motioned to her to come in.
“Perhaps you should close the door,” he said, stirring her curiosity about what he wanted. “Do you know who your guest Josh Calhoun is? Or his company?”
“I don’t know much about him. He said his business is Calhoun Hotels, and he’s a rancher occasionally,” she said. “He’s just staying until the roads open, and then I’m sure he’ll be gone forever.”
“Oh, no. I think he’ll come back to fish with me.”
“I hope so, if that’s what you want, but he sounds as if he’s wrapped up in his work,” she said.
Mr. Hickman’s brow furrowed, and his watery blue eyes gazed into the distance. “Perhaps at the moment.” His attention returned to her, and he stared at her a moment before he smiled. “He asked a few questions about you. He’s a very nice young man. A knowledgeable fisherman, from his conversation. I liked him.”
“Well, that’s good, because he’s here for a few days.”
Mr. Hickman whispered, “If I were Josh Calhoun, I would ask you out to dinner.”
“I think Josh has a girlfriend,” she whispered back, not knowing whether he did or not, but wanting to stop Mr. Hickman from pursuing that topic with Josh or anyone else.
Mr. Hickman nodded. “Nice fella. Too bad.”
“Mr. Hickman, you like Lamont. That’s who I go out with sometimes.”
“If I were Lamont, I would not wait two or three months between dates. I would never have won my Barbara if I had done that.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “Lamont is nice, and we’re very much alike. That’s what counts.”
“Lamont is my accountant, and you’re my landlady. Frankly, I don’t think you’re as much alike as you seem to think.”
“Do not be a matchmaker, Mr. Hickman. I’m very happy with Lamont. Now I’m going to my room. Are you going upstairs?”
“No, I’ll sit and read the rest of yesterday’s paper,” he said. “You may leave the door open when you go.”
Smiling, she left to go to her room, but her smile faded when she glanced at the closed door between her bedroom and her sitting room, where Josh had slept. He was in his room now, just on the other side of the door. What was he doing? She thought about her reassurances to Mr. Hickman regarding how alike she and Lamont were and how happy she was going out with him. She gazed at the door as if looking at Josh instead and thought about how he had flirted and what fun she had had with him this morning—something that was totally lacking in her relationship with Lamont. Lamont was an old friend. There was none of the electricity that sparked between Josh and her, no flirting, no fun in that way.
She hadn’t stopped to think about it before. Was she really that happy with Lamont? Would they ever marry or just go through life as friends? What did she really want? She had never questioned her relationship with him.
Always, her thoughts turned to her parents—she never wanted to be hurt the way her mother had been when her father had walked out on them. Shaking her head as if she could get rid of thoughts about Josh, she knew Lamont was the type of man she needed in her life: steady, reliable, dependable. Those qualities were what counted and meant a satisfying life.
For an instant, a memory flashed of her father, who could coax a laugh from her and make the whole world seem magical. She focused on the inn, trying to avoid remembering how much she had loved her father. The hurt still came after all these years any time she recalled the shock when he’d suddenly left them.
She went to her computer and pulled up Calhoun Hotels and read about Josh’s business, but she found little actual information about him.
When she returned to the kitchen to start on lunch, she was surprised to discover Josh already had the table set and was preparing a pitcher of ice water.
“You’re a help. You don’t have to keep working. You’re a paying guest, so go do something enjoyable,” she said.
As he shook his head, he grinned. “I don’t mind, and it keeps me busy. It’s a change of pace for me and keeps my thoughts off what is piling up in my office while I’m gone.” He glanced out the window. “The snow
