her misery and discovered a way he could make her smile again.
Unfortunately, that was out of his hands. He was here to pick up the horses and go—as soon as the snow let up.
Sarah slouched into a shabby olive-green armchair and shifted the baby to her shoulder. She gestured to the little girl, who was still hiding behind Eliza’s ample frame, one big dark eye peering out at him suspiciously.
It was going to take some work for him to win Sarah’s trust when she obviously didn’t want him here, but Marcus suspected he knew how to deal with the little one, who was a pint-size replica of her beautiful mother.
He crouched to the child’s level and flashed his thousand-watt smile. He knew his strengths, and his grin topped the list, or so the ladies told him, both young and old. He hoped making friends with Sarah’s daughter might be the first step in repairing his relationship with Sarah.
He reached out his hand to the preschooler. “Hey there, little lady. My name is Marcus. What’s yours?”
He held his breath as he awaited her response. The moment stretched out indefinitely as the little girl stared at him, her lips in an adorable little pout. Second only to the first time he’d asked Sarah on a date, this was maybe the most important female he’d ever wanted to impress.
“I’m Onyx, and I’m three,” she declared, holding up three fingers. She stepped out from behind her grandmother and reached for his hand, her expression as serious as her handshake. “That’s my baby sister, Jewel, my mama is holding.”
“Pleased to meet you, Onyx—and Jewel,” he said, meeting her solemn tone with one equally as earnest. “I’m an old friend of your mama’s.”
“’Kay. Granny, can I go play with Buttons now?”
Marcus had never been quite so summarily dismissed by a female before. He turned to Sarah and arched a brow, grinning crookedly. “Buttons?”
“Her rabbit.”
He’d been bested by a bunny.
* * *
Sarah couldn’t believe how quickly Marcus pulled Onyx out of her shell. The little girl had been a precocious and outgoing toddler, but after the death of her father she’d become withdrawn and suspicious about everybody and everything. No matter what Sarah did to try to coax her into meeting people and trying new things, nothing seemed to work. All Marcus had to do was grin at her and the child immediately fell subject to his charm.
Sarah couldn’t blame her. It was hard not to respond to Marcus’s natural appeal, especially because he knew what he had and how to use it. The first time he’d turned that smile upon her she’d been a goner. Her heart fluttered at the memory. But that was a long time ago. Things were different now and she was well beyond the possibility of being flattered by a handsome face and charming smile.
Marcus moved to the front window, pressing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I guess I’d better get going before the storm gets any worse.”
“What? No. You can’t go out in that!” Sarah’s heart leaped into her throat as Marcus swiveled toward her, clearly surprised at her outburst. Her exclamation had been one of sheer panic. She’d practically shouted the words. Poor Jewel gave a distressed yelp and flailed her little arms in surprise.
Heat rushed to her face as he narrowed his gaze on her, silently studying her, his jaw tight and strain rippling across his broad shoulders.
“You can’t leave yet,” she amended, consciously leveling her voice even though her pulse was hammering. “It’s not safe for you to drive in a whiteout, especially if you’re not used to this kind of weather.” She knew she still sounded flustered. How could she explain her irrational fear of snowstorms without going into personal details she’d rather avoid?
“It’s really coming down out there. I can hardly see my truck from here. How long do you think before it stops? I’d hate to put you out any more than I have to. Maybe another hour or so?”
“An hour?” Sarah forced a chuckle and shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re unfamiliar with Colorado blizzards. It’ll be a day, maybe more, before this storm blows over.”
His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “A day?”
She nodded. “At the very least. I’m afraid you have no other option. You’ll have to stay the night here as a guest in our home. I don’t want to risk you putting yourself—or Mag and Jes—in danger.” She paused and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Oh. I didn’t ask about your family. Will your wife be worried about you?”
His eyes widened. “Wife? No—I’m not married. But I’d best call Grandma Sheryl and let her know there’s been a delay. I don’t want her to worry.”
She didn’t know why she breathed a sigh of relief when he said he was single. His marital status or the lack of was certainly no business of hers. But that didn’t stop her traitorous heartbeat from quickening.
“I’ll make up a guest room for you,” she said to hide her sudden disorientation. She felt a little dizzy, as if the ground was rocking beneath her. “It’s our spare room and we use it for storage, but there’s a bed you can use for the night.”
Marcus opened his mouth as if to protest, then glanced over his shoulder at the heavy snowfall and nodded. “I appreciate the offer. I hope I’m not putting you out too much.”
“Not at all,” Eliza inserted before Sarah could answer. “We’re glad to have you. I’m sure you and Sarah will enjoy catching up with each other.”
Enjoy wasn’t exactly the word Sarah would have used. The last thing she wanted to do was share with Marcus all the trials she’d been through recently, but she had a feeling she was about to do just that. He’d always had a way of drawing her out when they were dating in high school.
“Will your husband be able to make it home through the storm, do you think?”
Sarah choked on her breath and Eliza audibly inhaled. Carl coughed to fill the sudden silence.
Marcus looked from one of them to another, his brow lowering over the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”
“Justin passed away last year at Christmas,” Sarah whispered over the lump in her throat.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No. Of course you didn’t.”
“How about that coffee?” Eliza asked a little too brightly. She turned and bustled off into the kitchen.
Marcus threaded his fingers through his hair, ruffling the thick blond waves. He paced a few feet and then turned and strode back again, looking as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him.
“Please sit down.” She couldn’t talk to him while he was pacing around like a caged tiger. “You’re making me nervous.”
He rubbed his palms down his thighs and gnawed at the inside of his cheek, eyeing the opposite end of the sofa from where Pops was sitting, but not moving to seat himself. The older man cleared his throat and stood.
