It’s too dangerous a trip in these icy roads. You’ll have to stay here tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” His tone was firmer than his confidence. Right now, he wasn’t very sure of anything—except that he couldn’t send this family back out into that cold, dark night.
Chapter Two
“Henrietta, please don’t cry.”
Nick ran a hand through his tousled hair, then gratefully accepted the cup of coffee the whimpering housekeeper handed him before she burst into tears again.
“Ah, Henny, don’t do that. It’s too early in the morning for theatrics. I didn’t know my Christmas present would move you to tears.”
“But, Nicky,” the older woman began, her shimmering gray curls not moving a centimeter even though she bobbed her head with each word, “it’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. God bless you. You’re a good man…a good one…” Her words trailed off as her watery eyes centered on something beyond Nick’s head.
Nick turned to find Myla Howell standing in the doorway, wearing the same clothes she’d had on the night before.
“I’m sorry,” Myla said, sensing she’d interrupted something important. “I heard voices….”
“Nicky?”
Myla looked from the old woman who stood with her hands on her hips to the man sitting like a king at the head of the long Queen Anne dining table. He was trying to read the newspaper, and judging from the frown marring his handsome face, he was losing patience with the woman standing before him.
“Who’s this?” the woman asked, smiling kindly over at Myla.
Nick looked up. Myla didn’t miss the surprise or the grimace on his face. “Oh, hello. Henny, this is Myla Howell. Due to the bad weather, Myla and her children were forced to spend the night in one of the guest rooms.” He extended a hand toward the woman. “Myla, this is Henrietta Clark, my housekeeper and best friend.”
Myla was thankful when the woman didn’t ask any questions. “Nice to meet you.”
Henny smiled and waved a hand. “Did I wake you up with my wailing, honey? I’m sorry, but I’m so excited. Nicky gave me the best Christmas present before he left for Dallas the other day—a trip to see my daughter and her children in Arkansas.”
“And she’s wailing because she’s so touched,” Nick added on a droll note. “She’s leaving today.”
“That’s wonderful,” Myla said. “I know you’ll have a great time.”
“I plan to,” Henrietta said, “if I don’t spend the whole time worrying about Nicky and Lydia.”
“We’ll be fine,” Nick said, his attention already back on his paper. Then he asked Myla, “Would you like some breakfast, a cup of coffee, maybe?”
Myla took the cup of coffee Henny pressed into her hand, but she didn’t sit down. “Actually, I came down to ask for some medicine. Jesse’s had a bad night. She’s running a fever.”
Nick scowled. “Is she all right?”
Afraid that he wasn’t pleased at this added problem, Myla nodded. “I think she’ll be okay. I just need to bring her fever down.”
“Your child?” Henny asked.
“Yes. My oldest. I’m not sure about her temperature, but she feels awfully hot.”
Henny whirled around. “There’s a thermometer around here somewhere. Nicky won’t let me use it on him anymore.”
A smile slipped across Myla’s face. In spite of her concern for Jesse, she couldn’t resist the mental image of the stout Henrietta chasing a snarling Nick around with a thermometer.
Nick’s scowl went a few grooves deeper. “She still thinks of Lydia and me as her babies.” He gestured for Myla to sit down. “Does Jesse need anything else?”
Myla appreciated the warmth in his words, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t think so. Just rest and good food. If you don’t mind, I’ll feed them breakfast before we leave.”
He looked down at the table. “I put in another call to my sister. You can’t take chances with this weather.”
“No, I wouldn’t do that to Jesse. I appreciate your letting us stay here, Mr. Rudolph.”
“Call me Nick.”
“Okay.” Myla sensed, knew, he couldn’t wait to be rid of them. “I’m sorry we’ve disrupted your life.”
“It’s no problem,” he said. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Yes, we all did until Jesse started coughing.”
Myla wouldn’t tell him that she’d tossed and turned in spite of the warm, cozy room and the enormous bed. She felt so alone, so out of place in this grand old house. But she was certainly thankful that they hadn’t had to spend the night in the car.
When she looked up, Nick’s gaze softened. “Don’t worry about your daughter. If she’s sick, we’ll get her to a doctor.”
“Thank you.”
Henrietta burst through the swinging door from the kitchen, a bottle of pills in one hand and a thermometer in the other. “How old’s the child?”
“Eight.”
“Half a tablet, then. And I’ll fix her up some of my special hot lemonade with honey to help get that down. The lemons—good for a cold.” She turned to strut back to the kitchen, then whirled to face Nick. “Oh, Nicky, I almost forgot. Are you sure you and Lydia can handle things tonight?”
Nick looked confused, his gaze moving from Myla to his housekeeper. “Tonight? What’s going on tonight?”
“Your dinner party,” Henny said with arms akimbo. “Don’t tell me you forgot to call the temp service. You told me not to worry about a thing, that you and Lydia would take care of calling someone to fill in for me.”
Nick sat up, realization hitting him. “You mean my sister and I are in charge of…kitchen duty?”
Henrietta shook her head. “I knew you weren’t listening to me the other day.” She shot Myla a knowing look. “A one-track mind, that one. If it don’t have to do with oil, he don’t want to deal with it.”
“I guess I wasn’t listening,” Nick agreed. “And I think we’d better round up someone to take care of that. We both know Lydia’s as useless in the kitchen as I am.”
The housekeeper mumbled something about preoccupied executives, then explained, “It’s too late to call the temp service. They’re booked through Christmas, I imagine.” Looking disappointed, she asked, “You want me to stay?”
Myla
