get you settled, then Sara will find—”
“They can stay.”
April paused in the act of putting a bag of carrots into the refrigerator. Connor still stood across the kitchen, arms folded. His green eyes revealed nothing.
“Why?” she couldn’t help but ask, closing the refrigerator door and taking two steps toward him. “What made you change your mind?”
“Now who asks too many questions?” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Just keep them quiet and out of my way. I’m over seven months behind on the deadline for my next book. I have until the first of the year to turn in this book before they terminate my contract and...”
“And?”
“I’m here to work,” he answered, which wasn’t an answer at all. “I need to concentrate.”
She nodded, not wanting to push her luck with this enigmatic man. “The food you requested is stocked in the pantry and refrigerator. Cell service is spotty up here, but there are landlines in both cabins. I’ll have dinner ready for you at six unless you call. You won’t even know we’re here with you.” Grabbing the empty cloth sack from the counter, she started past him.
He reached for her, the movement so quick it startled her. She stared at the place where his fingers encircled her wrist, warmth seeping through the layers she wore. It was odd because for such a cold man, his touch almost burned.
“I’ll know you’re here,” he said, his voice a rough scrape across her senses. “But keep the girls away from me.”
“I will,” she promised. Something in his tone told her his demand was more than a need for quiet so he could work.
He released his hold on her a second later and she left, stopping outside as the cold air hit her. She took a couple of breaths to calm her nerves. Yes, she’d have to tell Sara about Ranie and Shay, but not yet. Not until April could find a way to do it without revealing how weak and broken she still was.
And that could take a while.
She hurried across the snow-packed drive, worried that she’d left the girls alone for too long. The cabin was quiet when she entered through the side door.
The caretaker’s cabin was much smaller than Cloud Cabin, which had been built to house family reunions and groups of guests who wanted a wilderness experience away from town. In addition to the oversized kitchen, Connor had his choice of five bedrooms, including two master suites, a huge family room and a game room, plus a workout area in the basement. There was a big patio out back with a fire pit and hot tub, but April had a hard time picturing Connor relaxing in the steam and bubbles. It was also better if she didn’t try to picture him bare chested because, despite his surly attitude, she’d felt a definite ripple of attraction to Connor Pierce. That was a recipe for disaster.
The girls weren’t in the kitchen so she headed upstairs. In this cabin there were only two bedrooms, on either side of the narrow hallway. Sara and Josh had built it to accommodate the small staff needed when there were guests on-site. While construction had been completed in late summer, they’d only taken a few bookings for the fall and hadn’t expected anyone to be staying here over the winter months. It wasn’t exactly easy to access, although maybe that’s what appealed to Connor—or at least to his editor. April knew his debut book had been made into a movie and the sequel was set to release in the spring. She imagined there was a lot of pressure for another blockbuster in the series.
The door to the second bedroom was closed and she had to press her ear to it before she heard voices inside. Both girls looked up when she walked in. “It was so quiet I thought you two might be napping.”
Ranie rolled her eyes. “I’m twelve. I don’t take naps.”
Shay smiled. “I do sometimes, but not today. Mommy used to nap a lot.”
April remembered how tired the cancer treatments had made her. All that medicine to make things better, but there were difficult side effects at every stage. “What are you doing?”
Shay held up a tangle of yarn. “I’m finger knitting. I can make you a scarf if you want.”
“I’d like that,” April said, coming forward to sit on the edge of the other twin bed. “Who taught you to knit?”
“Mommy taught Ranie, and Ranie taught me.” Shay pointed to her sister’s lap. “She’s really good. She can use needles and everything.”
April placed her hand lightly on Ranie’s knee. “May I see?”
The girl stood up abruptly, shoving what was in her hands into a bag. “I’m not that great. Mostly my rows are crooked. It was just something to do when we sat with Mom.”
April tried not to let the girl’s constant rejection hurt her, but it was difficult. Ranie looked so much like Jill. “Your mom sent me a sweater one year for Christmas,” she told Shay, aware Ranie was listening even as she pretended to ignore them. “I have it with me if you’d like to see.”
“Mommy made the best sweaters.” Shay tugged her fingers out of the yarn, which to April’s eyes looked more like a knot than a scarf. “I mess up a lot.”
April reached for the deep red yarn, but Ranie stepped forward and snatched it away. “You’re getting better, Shay.” She stretched out the jumble until April could see where it almost resembled a scarf. “I’ll unknot this and you can keep going.”
Shay beamed. “Ranie is the best. She can teach you, too.”
“I’d like that.”
“Don’t you have work to do?” Ranie asked, flipping her long braid over her shoulder. “Taking care of the big-shot author?”
“I’ll have time,” April told her. “Would either of you like a snack before I start prepping dinner?”
“Can we make the snowman now?” Shay asked, going on her knees to look out the window above the bed.
April thought about the promise she’d made to Connor Pierce. “Because Mr. Pierce is writing a book, he’s going to need quiet. I know it’s fun to play in the snow, but—”
“I can be real quiet,” Shay assured her, not turning from the window. “Ranie and me had to stay quiet when Mommy was sick.”
“Ranie and I,” April and Ranie corrected at the same time.
When April offered a half smile, Ranie turned away. April sighed. Between the cabin’s grumpy houseguest and her own ill-tempered charge, this was going to be the longest two weeks of her life. “Maybe it would be better if we found things to do inside the house.”
“He doesn’t want us here,” Ranie said, her tone filled with righteous accusation. “That’s why we have to be quiet. He doesn’t want us.”
April would have liked to kick Connor Pierce in the shin or another part of his anatomy right now. “He needs to concentrate,” she said instead, wanting to make it better for these girls who’d lost so much and were now in a strange state and a strange cabin with a woman who had been their mother’s friend but little to them. “It isn’t about you two.”
“So
