the line.
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Right.” It was said for his benefit, as was the smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were saying something else. It wasn’t desperation he saw in them now. Not entirely, at least. He spied apprehension, nerves. That delayed deadline?
More questions bubbled. After all, it was Saturday afternoon. Tomorrow was Easter Sunday. Just what kind of work was she involved in that required her to be on the clock over a holiday weekend?
And then there was the way she’d ended the phone call. Perhaps she’d had a spat with her lover and they’d resolved it over the phone, but now she was stranded and they wouldn’t be together for the weekend.
That was it, he decided.
“He must be special.”
“Very.” She sighed, and then flushed. “Wh-who?”
Case closed. “Never mind.”
“I also need to call a garage for a wrecker. I wonder if you might have a telephone directory?”
He found a dog-eared book in one of the drawers at the registration desk. It was outdated by half a dozen years. Caro frowned when he handed it to her.
“You don’t have anything more recent?”
“No, but I doubt it will matter. The town hasn’t changed much in the past three decades.”
Quaint, old-fashioned, it was the same year after year. That was part of its draw for tourists. That was exactly its draw for Jake now. He needed a place where his memories weren’t tainted with the stain of the events back in Buffalo.
“Do you have a recommendation?”
He scratched his chin, thinking. “Try Orville’s. They do towing as well as repairs, and it looks like you might have some damage.”
This time, he left her alone to make the call, returning to the living room where his family waited. It was a bad choice if he’d hoped to avoid confrontation. His mother spoke first, which wasn’t surprising. His father preferred to stay in the background, asserting himself only when necessary, but then to great effect. Martin McCabe might be a quiet man, but he was no pushover. Still waters, according to Doreen. And she claimed that, of her two sons, Jake was the one who had inherited the quality.
“Who is she?”
“Just a woman who had the bad luck to have her car go off the road in a storm.”
“A good-looking woman,” Dean mumbled, earning a smack on the arm from his wife.
“Where is she from?”
“Where is she heading?”
“Where is she now?”
His family pelted him with questions. Jake answered his mother’s first.
“She’s calling for a tow truck. I told her to try Orville’s”
“Is he still in business?” his father asked.
“Apparently.”
“Do you really think he will come out in this weather?” Dean wanted to know.
“Not likely.”
“Which means she’ll be spending the night here.” Doreen clicked her tongue. “Heavens, I’d better get busy cleaning up another guest room. God knows they’re not habitable in their present condition.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Bonnie offered.
They started toward the door.
“There’s no need. Caro can have mine,” Jake said.
The chivalrous gesture had his mother smiling and nodding. His brother’s grin, however, had Jake clarifying, “I’ll sleep on the couch in here.”
“Can I sleep down here with Uncle Jake?” Riley wanted to know. He danced excitedly in a circle.
“Me, too! Me, too!” Jillian chanted.
“You’ll sleep upstairs with us,” Bonnie said. Before they could protest, she added, “Remember, the Easter Bunny is coming tonight. It wouldn’t do for him to stumble over a couple of sleeping children while trying to hide your baskets full of treats.”
That quieted them, but only for a moment.
“When are we going to color the eggs?” Jillian asked, hopping on one foot.
“Let’s do it now!” Riley squealed.
“After dinner and before bath time,” their mother said.
On their way from Montpelier’s airport, they’d stopped at a grocery store. They had everything for the holiday feast with them, from the eggs the children were itching to dye to the honey-glazed ham that would be served the following day for dinner. Doreen even had packed the fancy Irish linens the McCabes used every holiday. Jake took in the scene before him. The kids scampering about, his father smoking a pipe while seated fireside. It was so damned easy to pretend that everything was the same with his family here.
Except that it wasn’t. Nothing was the same. This family gathering was different. Someone was missing … and he didn’t mean his ex-wife.
He glanced toward the doorway. Caro stood there—looking tentative, looking utterly beautiful despite her damp hair and pinched expression. She was nothing like Miranda, despite their shared affinity for high-quality clothing. Miranda’s features were far sharper. The description he kept coming back to when it came to this woman was soft, fragile.
Jake cleared his throat. “Any luck getting a tow truck to come out?”
“No. A man answered at the place you suggested, but he said the roads were impassable and he had a dozen or so requests for assistance to handle ahead of mine. With tomorrow being a holiday, he said it would be Monday at the earliest before he could tow my car to his garage.”
Some of that desperation leaked back into her expression. “Is there another garage I should try?”
“Maybe. But I have a feeling they’d all tell you the same thing,” Jake replied.
She nodded glumly.
“Well, not to worry. You’re welcome here,” Doreen said. “You’ll take Jake’s room.”
Her eyelids flickered. In surprise or dismay? “Oh, no. I couldn’t—”
“He insists,” Doreen said.
At Caro’s dubious expression, Jake added, “Actually, I do. It will save my mother and Bonnie from having to clean up another one of the guest rooms.”
She smiled. “Well, in that case …”
“You’d probably like a hot shower,” Doreen said. “Show
