be able to resume normal activities by midmorning when higher temperatures and sunshine clear this system out.”
Nick eyed the television, willing the man to say it wasn’t so. When that didn’t happen, he looked toward the silent phone, all hopes of Lydia’s much-needed help freezing up like his winding driveway outside. With three pairs of questioning eyes centered on him, he could only give a gracious but shaky smile.
Thoroughly at odds, he wanted to ask Myla Howell why him? Why’d she have to pick him? And what was he supposed to do with her now? Instead, he took her hand. “Well, that settles it. You heard the man. You can stay here tonight.”
“What?” Myla gave him a stunned look. “But what about your sister? What about Magnolia House?”
“It can wait,” Nick stated firmly, silently wishing Lydia would call and rescue him before he drowned in those questioning green eyes. Or was he silently hoping she wouldn’t call? To counter his treacherous thoughts, he added, “It’s late and Magnolia House is downtown. It’s too dangerous a trip in these icy roads. You’ll have to stay here tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” His tone was firmer than his confidence. Right now, he wasn’t very sure of anything—except that he couldn’t send this family back out into that cold, dark night.
Chapter Two
“Henrietta, please don’t cry.”
Nick ran a hand through his tousled hair, then gratefully accepted the cup of coffee the whimpering housekeeper handed him before she burst into tears again.
“Ah, Henny, don’t do that. It’s too early in the morning for theatrics. I didn’t know my Christmas present would move you to tears.”
“But, Nicky,” the older woman began, her shimmering gray curls not moving a centimeter even though she bobbed her head with each word, “it’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. God bless you. You’re a good man…a good one…” Her words trailed off as her watery eyes centered on something beyond Nick’s head.
Nick turned to find Myla Howell standing in the doorway, wearing the same clothes she’d had on the night before.
“I’m sorry,” Myla said, sensing she’d interrupted something important. “I heard voices….”
“Nicky?”
Myla looked from the old woman who stood with her hands on her hips to the man sitting like a king at the head of the long Queen Anne dining table. He was trying to read the newspaper, and judging from the frown marring his handsome face, he was losing patience with the woman standing before him.
“Who’s this?” the woman asked, smiling kindly over at Myla.
Nick looked up. Myla didn’t miss the surprise or the grimace on his face. “Oh, hello. Henny, this is Myla Howell. Due to the bad weather, Myla and her children were forced to spend the night in one of the guest rooms.” He extended a hand toward the woman. “Myla, this is Henrietta Clark, my housekeeper and best friend.”
Myla was thankful when the woman didn’t ask any questions. “Nice to meet you.”
Henny smiled and waved a hand. “Did I wake you up with my wailing, honey? I’m sorry, but I’m so excited. Nicky gave me the best Christmas present before he left for Dallas the other day—a trip to see my daughter and her children in Arkansas.”
“And she’s wailing because she’s so touched,” Nick added on a droll note. “She’s leaving today.”
“That’s wonderful,” Myla said. “I know you’ll have a great time.”
“I plan to,” Henrietta said, “if I don’t spend the whole time worrying about Nicky and Lydia.”
“We’ll be fine,” Nick said, his attention already back on his paper. Then he asked Myla, “Would you like some breakfast, a cup of coffee, maybe?”
Myla took the cup of coffee Henny pressed into her hand, but she didn’t sit down. “Actually, I came down to ask for some medicine. Jesse’s had a bad night. She’s running a fever.”
Nick scowled. “Is she all right?”
Afraid that he wasn’t pleased at this added problem, Myla nodded. “I think she’ll be okay. I just need to bring her fever down.”
“Your child?” Henny asked.
“Yes. My oldest. I’m not sure about her temperature, but she feels awfully hot.”
Henny whirled around. “There’s a thermometer around here somewhere. Nicky won’t let me use it on him anymore.”
A smile slipped across Myla’s face. In spite of her concern for Jesse, she couldn’t resist the mental image of the stout Henrietta chasing a snarling Nick around with a thermometer.
Nick’s scowl went a few grooves deeper. “She still thinks of Lydia and me as her babies.” He gestured for Myla to sit down. “Does Jesse need anything else?”
Myla appreciated the warmth in his words, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t think so. Just rest and good food. If you don’t mind, I’ll feed them breakfast before we leave.”
He looked down at the table. “I put in another call to my sister. You can’t take chances with this weather.”
“No, I wouldn’t do that to Jesse. I appreciate your letting us stay here, Mr. Rudolph.”
“Call me Nick.”
“Okay.” Myla sensed, knew, he couldn’t wait to be rid of them. “I’m sorry we’ve disrupted your life.”
“It’s no problem,” he said. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Yes, we all did until Jesse started coughing.”
Myla wouldn’t tell him that she’d tossed and turned in spite of the warm, cozy room and the enormous bed. She felt so alone, so out of place in this grand old house. But she was certainly thankful that they hadn’t had to spend the night in the car.
When she looked up, Nick’s gaze softened. “Don’t worry about your daughter. If she’s sick, we’ll get her to a doctor.”
“Thank you.”
Henrietta burst through the swinging door from the kitchen, a bottle of pills in one hand and a thermometer in the other. “How old’s the child?”
“Eight.”
“Half a tablet, then. And I’ll fix her up some of my special hot lemonade with honey to help get that down. The lemons—good for a cold.” She turned to strut back to the kitchen, then whirled to face Nick. “Oh, Nicky, I almost forgot. Are you sure you and Lydia can handle things tonight?”
Nick looked confused, his gaze moving from Myla to his housekeeper. “Tonight? What’s going on tonight?”
“Your
