doing in Lakemont, that precaution had seemed wise.
Besides, if you didn’t know what you were going to find, you’d better tread cautiously. That advice worked both in the courtroom and in life.
She turned slowly to give Nathan an inquiring look, trying not to be intimidated by his frown.
“I hope you’ve had a chance to reconsider your plans,” he said.
He was nothing if not persistent. Annoyingly so. The kind of person who, if you gave an inch, took a mile. If she tried to pacify him by moving into the main lodge, he’d undoubtedly consider it a step toward getting her out entirely.
She pasted a smile on her lips. “There’s nothing to reconsider. I’m very comfortable in the cottage.”
Daniel came up behind his son just in time to hear her, and he nodded with satisfaction. “Good. We’re happy to have you there.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “That wasn’t the impression your son gave me.”
The flash of anger in Nathan’s eyes told her the shot had gone home. She should be ashamed of giving in to the desire to annoy him, but she wasn’t. He hadn’t had any compunction about harassing her, had he?
Nathan battled to force the anger back under his usual strict control. He wouldn’t give Susannah Morgan the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten under his skin, and he couldn’t let his father be upset.
“Nathan?” His father’s frowning gaze was troubled and questioning.
“Ms. Morgan misunderstood,” he said quickly. If the woman had any sense at all, she’d heed the warning in his voice. “I was simply concerned about her staying at the cottage alone, that’s all.”
His father turned to Ms. Morgan with quick concern. “We’d be glad to move you into a room here in the lodge. No trouble at all.”
Trouble. Trouble was rushing Dad to the hospital in the middle of the night, not knowing whether the next breath he took would be his last. If he could just get Dad to understand he had to take it easy…
Well, that was a problem for another day. For now, he’d be content with convincing Ms. Morgan to leave his father out of their disagreement.
He focused on the conversation between the two of them, realizing with exasperation that his soft-hearted father was already feeling sorry for Susannah. The next thing he knew, Daniel would be adopting her as another one of his strays.
Look at the way he’d taken Jennifer in without question, even though he wasn’t responsible for a stepchild he barely knew. Daniel would keep the lodge open all winter if it meant taking care of one of his lost chicks.
That wasn’t going to happen. Determination hardened in him. He’d better detach Ms. Susannah Morgan from his father now.
He summoned up a smile. “Why don’t you let me show you around the lodge before you go back to the cottage. I’m sure Jen didn’t take the time to do that when you checked in.” Before she could think up an argument, he took her arm. “The library is down this hall.”
For just an instant he felt her resist. Then she nodded and fell into step with him.
He sensed his father’s smiling glance, and he shrugged it off irritably. Dad was too susceptible to anyone he thought needed his protection. Susannah Morgan, in spite of her shadowed eyes and fragile appearance, was well able to stand up for herself.
“This is the library.” He led her into the cozy, book-lined room.
She took a step away from him, holding out her hands to the fire burning in the small corner fireplace. “Very nice.” She spoke quickly, as if to head off whatever else he might say. “You mentioned Jen. Is she the person who checked me in this afternoon?”
“That’s right.” He hadn’t brought her in here to talk about Jen.
“So you have quite a family operation here, with your sister working the registration desk and your father running the lodge.”
“Stepsister,” he corrected. “She just helps out after school.” And then only when someone stood over her and forced her to.
“Stepsister.” She seemed intent on keeping the conversation on Jen, of all people. “Does her mother help with the lodge, as well?”
His jaw felt ready to shatter. “No.” He clipped off the word. “She divorced my father several years ago.”
She swung to face him, the firelight burnishing her auburn hair. “I’m sorry.” She seemed to assess the oddity of the situation and come to a conclusion. “Your father is a kind person.”
“Yes. He is.” He gritted his teeth, determined to say whatever was necessary to keep her away from his father. “He’s also not well. He barely survived a serious heart attack last winter.”
The green eyes he’d been thinking cold and untouchable warmed with emotion. “I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible for both of you.”
She reached out toward him. He had no thought of responding to her sympathy, but he found himself taking her hand in his. His gaze locked with hers as their hands met.
The moment seemed to freeze. Nothing moved. Nothing broke the quiet except the crackle of the fire and her quick, indrawn breath.
He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling. Nothing was happening.
He dropped her hand, clearing his throat. He had to finish what he’d set out to do.
“I hope you can understand why I’m trying to make things easier for him. He never should have opened the lodge at all this season.”
If Susannah had been affected by that moment, she didn’t show it. She tilted her head to the side, looking at him. “He certainly seems to enjoy what he’s doing.”
He considered telling her that she knew nothing at all about his father. But he was trying to gain her cooperation, not sabotage his own efforts.
“That’s beside the point. He needs to take the time to recuperate.”
“Is that what his doctor advises?”
He gritted his teeth. “It’s nice of you to be concerned.”
“Meaning I should mind my own business?” She lifted perfectly arched brows.
“I didn’t say that.” He held on to his temper with an effort. “These next couple of weekends will probably be the last for the foliage tourists. After that I’m sure I can convince him to close for the season and get the rest he needs. It’s going to be a little hard to do that if we still have a guest.”
“I understand your concern for your father.” She looked at him for a long moment, as if assessing the truth of his words. He thought he detected sympathy behind the coolness in her eyes. “I don’t want to leave, but I will.”
Before he could feel relief, she went on. “When the rest of your guests leave, I will, too.”
Her
