herself, and now made a decent living. She’d even found her biological father, had spent a little time getting to know him, only to realize that he did not hold any answers for her. Only she could provide those. And, for the most part, she had.
She understood who she was. How she needed to live in order to survive, to remain true to herself, and seeing Reid again could potentially undo all of that.
So, yes, a ticking bomb was a fair and accurate comparison.
A strong gust of wind yanked the car to the side, catapulting Daisy to renewed awareness of her surroundings. Muttering a curse, she eased off the gas pedal and breathed in relief when the car returned to the road. None of what might or might not happen in the coming days mattered right now. All that did was getting off the road and to her brother’s house.
Parker hadn’t phoned her until almost a full week after his accident. Again, not unexpected. Her relationship with her entire family had remained distant and uncomfortable. If anything, she was surprised to be notified at all. By anyone.
But he’d been half-loopy from pain medications, and it had taken a while for Daisy to understand how serious his injuries were. Learning how close he had come to dying scared her, had made her realize how much time they had wasted. She’d already decided to return to her hometown when Parker asked if she would look after his daughters while he recovered.
Her sister-in-law—Parker’s wife, Bridget—had died three years earlier from cancer, and Daisy and Parker’s parents now lived in Florida. She had no doubt that if Charles Lennox weren’t recovering from hip-replacement surgery, it would be her parents caring for the girls. So she supposed she was the obvious choice, but she’d still been surprised by Parker’s request.
Naturally, she’d said yes.
But she hadn’t considered that she barely knew her nieces, having only met them twice before. Once when Parker had brought his family to California, and then, at his wife’s funeral in Boston, where the couple had met and made their home. Just short of a year after becoming a widower, Parker had returned to Steamboat Springs to raise his daughters.
And, other than the customary phone calls on birthdays and holidays, Daisy and Parker rarely spoke. So, no. She didn’t know her nieces. She didn’t know their likes or dislikes, what made them happy or sad, or any of the other myriad details that made up their lives.
A new rush of fear hit Daisy. How was she supposed to provide the security her nieces were sure to need when she’d spent so little time with them?
One way or another, she’d have to figure it out.
She also hadn’t thought about what it would be like to breathe in the same air as Reid Foster, to look into his sinfully dark eyes or to listen to the slow, deep, evocative cadence of his voice again after so freaking long. Any of those occurences might prove to be her undoing.
“Everything will be fine,” she said, forcing firmness into her tone. “Parker will make a full recovery. The girls and I will get to know each other. I’m their aunt, so they’ll love me. Of course they will! And seeing Reid again won’t be easy, but I’ll survive.”
Her dog, a rescue whippet whose brindle coat held varying shades of white, fawn and gray, whined plaintively from the backseat in a definite plea to get out of the car.
“Soon, Jinx,” Daisy said in a soothing voice. “We’re almost there.”
Due to her shock at Parker’s accident and her hurried departure, Daisy had forgotten to mention that she was bringing Jinx with her. Hopefully, neither of the girls was afraid of dogs, because she refused to kennel Jinx for however long her stay might last.
Whippets—a medium-size breed that originated from greyhounds—were intensely devoted to their owners, and since Jinx was a rescue dog, building the trust between them had taken close to six months. Not bringing her along was out of the question.
The GPS announced that Daisy had arrived at her destination. Slowing to a crawl, she located the proper house and parked the car as close to the side of the road as she could. She pulled in a fortifying breath and gave herself a few minutes to gather her bearings while staring at her brother’s home. Between the darkness and the blowing snow, she couldn’t see much, but the outside light was on, casting a friendly glow. A safe haven.
For now, at least.
Parker had stated that a few of his neighbors were pitching in until Daisy could take over, so she guessed the girls were safely tucked in for the night at one of the other houses dotting the street. She’d see them tomorrow. Her brother had also promised to have someone leave a key under the porch mat, so Daisy would have access to the house. She prayed he hadn’t overlooked this not-so-small detail, otherwise, she’d be back on the road, searching for shelter.
“Well, Jinx,” she said. “I guess we’re here.”
And, because there was nothing left to do other than go inside, Daisy leashed and picked up her dog, grabbed her overnight bag—the rest of her luggage could wait until morning—and pushed her way through the whipping snow toward the welcoming light.
“Ready or not,” she whispered into the howling wind, “here I come.”
Exhaustion, pure and complete, seeped through Reid Foster’s body. He leaned against the wall in the Lennoxes’ upstairs hallway, let out a bone-weary sigh and hoped the girls were as sound asleep as they’d appeared. The prior week and a half had taught him that one or the other—sometimes both—would fall victim to unquenchable thirst within minutes of their bedroom light going out. Sometimes, they just wanted another hug.
Either way, he figured he’d wait right here for a bit. Just in case.
Erin and Megan were scared, and rightly so. They’d already lost their mother, had already learned that even parents can get hurt, or sick, and go away forever. His heart wouldn’t allow him to do anything other than care for them the best he could. Most days, that meant rushing from work to pick them up and bring them home, so they could exist in familiar surroundings, with their toys and their own beds to sleep in.
But Lord, he was tired.
During the winter months, his job as a ski patroller often demanded extended hours filled with physically draining, challenging work. Toss in the care and well-being of two frightened children, along with visiting Parker whenever he could, and Reid was running fairly scarce on energy. Especially tonight.
With forewarning of the storm, which was now raging outside, and completing the necessary preparations, work had started early and ended late. When he’d arrived at the next-door neighbor’s house to collect the girls, he noticed they were more high-strung than normal. Soon enough, Reid discovered that they’d watched some tearjerker of a family movie about several children who were unexpectedly orphaned.
The neighbor had clued in to Reid’s disapproval and had apologized, stating she hadn’t realized the plot of the movie until the girls were engrossed. At that point, she felt she would’ve done more damage by not allowing them to finish watching it. Reid didn’t know about that, but the next hour of the evening had then been filled with one question after another.
Seven-year-old Erin, the elder of the two, who looked to be growing into a near replica of her aunt Daisy—both in personality and, other than the color of her eyes, appearance—had
