Книга - Baby On The Run

Baby On The Run
Kate Little


Keeping her tiny baby safe Stranded on Christmas Eve in the middle of a snowstorm, Carey Mooreland wondered if she had finally reached the end of the road. Especially when she was rescued by handsome police officer Ben Martin. Ben knew the single mother was hiding something. Casey awoke a shockingly fierce protectiveness in him, but their passion took them both by surprise.What would happen when she was ready to move on? Could he convince Carey that the safest place of all was here with him?BABY DAZE Because a baby changes everything!







He put his arm around her shoulder and she moved close to him, leaning her head on his chest.



“I come here sometimes, just to think.”



“What do you think about?” she asked.



“The past. Mistakes I’ve made. Things I could have done differently. I think about the future, too. Things I hope for.”



When he spoke, she felt his words, the echo in his broad chest. She heard his heart beat steady and strong.



“What do you hope for, Ben?”



He didn’t answer at first. She wondered if he was going to confide in her. Was she the one asking too many questions now?



“Oh…lots of things,” he said finally. “I’d like to meet someone I can be happy with. Someone I can just be myself with.” He turned to her. “Someone like you, Carey.”


KATE LITTLE



claims to have lots of experience with romance – “the fictional kind, that is,” she is quick to clarify. She has been both an author and an editor of romance fiction for over fifteen years. She believes that a good romance novel will make the reader experience all the tension, thrills and agony of falling madly, deeply and wildly in love. She enjoys watching the characters in her books go crazy for each other, but she hates to see the blissful couple disappear when it’s time for them to live happily ever after.



In addition to writing romance novels, Kate also writes fiction and non-fiction for young adults. She lives on Long Island, New York, with her husband and daughter.




Baby on the Run


Kate Little






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Chapter One

Carey Mooreland stared out at the highway, a frozen, four-lane blur, her gloved hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her fingers ached. Snow that had begun falling a few hours earlier blew down even heavier now. Fat, white feathery flakes coated the windshield faster than the wipers could whisk them away.

The defroster on the old car wasn’t working well and Carey reached up to wipe the foggy glass with her hand. It was the third car she’d owned in the past year, each model with more mileage and problems. But switching cars every few months had been another way to protect herself, to shield her identity and make it harder for Quinn to track her down as she moved from place to place.

She’d bought new snow tires in Vermont. An unexpected expense, but one she was glad of now. She had to think of her baby, Lindsay. The six-month-old little girl who slept snug in her car seat, covered from head to toe so that only her nose and a tiny portion of her sweet face showed as she slept.

Carey wanted to sleep, too. She wanted to turn around and go back to Blue Lake. She wanted to pull over and have a good cry. But like so many other times in the past year, she forced herself to do what she had needed to do to survive. To keep her baby safe. That was all that mattered to her now.

She switched on the radio, searching for some distraction from the rhythm of the squeaky wipers. A cheerful Christmas song filled the silence. It was Christmas Eve. She’d almost forgotten. Somehow during her desperate flight, the holiday—and all its glittering warmth—had faded into the dark cold night.

The highway had narrowed to one lane, thick with snow. She bumped along with few other cars in sight. She spotted a jackknifed truck on the roadside, hazard lights blinking and she struggled to turn her eyes straight ahead again.

The small car swerved, despite the new tires. Carey finally gave up and decided to turn off. The car needed fuel and she needed some caffeine. She’d been concentrating so hard on her driving, she’d lost all track of direction. She knew she was somewhere on the coast of Maine. Somewhere between Blue Lake, Vermont, where she’d started, and Bar Harbor, where she hoped to board a ferry to New Brunswick, and from there, make her way to Prince Edward Island in Canada.

Canada was a big country. A person could hide there easily. After a while, even the obsessive Quinn McCauley would give up looking for her. That was her plan…and her prayer. If he was put behind bars, he’d be forced to give up. Or would he still have his underlings pursue her? She’d seen the way he held grudges. It wasn’t out of the question.

She turned down the exit ramp and found herself at a stop sign on a dark road. A sign read, Greenbriar—5 miles. Gas. Food. Lodging. An arrow pointed to the right and Carey turned in that direction. It seemed the logical choice. She couldn’t drive all night. Not in this storm. She needed to find a place to stay over and continue tomorrow morning. Hopefully the snowstorm would be over by then.

There might have been a few houses on the road, but Carey didn’t see any. All she saw were tall trees and brush, covered with white. Not a single vehicle was in sight. It seemed everyone was staying in tonight. To celebrate. Or was just too wise to be out driving.

She and Lindsay would have been at a Christmas gathering right now, with her friends in Blue Lake—Rachel Reilly and her fiancé, Jack Sawyer, and their little boy, Charlie. Carey had left gifts for all of them and a note, explaining that she’d been suddenly called away to care for a sick relative, down in Virginia. She’d promised to get in touch in a few days.

She guessed they must have read her note by now. She tried to picture their reaction. She hated lying, especially to people who trusted her and helped her when she’d first arrived there. But she’d had no choice. She’d learned that Quinn’s investigator had caught on to her trail again and if he traced her to Blue Lake, she didn’t want her friends to point him in the right direction.

Someday I’ll explain, Carey promised herself. Or maybe it was better not to. Better for everyone.

The Christmas song ended and the radio announcer started to report on Santa’s flight, tracking his path from the North Pole around the entire world. Lindsay was too little know about Santa, but the sweet deception reminded Carey of the Christmas Eves of her past, when she was a little girl growing up happy and carefree. Feeling so safe and loved. Now her parents were both gone. And her husband, Tom, had died, too, in an accident last year on one of Quinn’s construction sites.

She was all alone except for Lindsay. Her secret was like a wall around her heart, as thick as any prison, making it impossible to grow truly close to anyone, to make lasting friendships and connections. That might be acceptable for some people. Some people might be able to adapt to that kind of life. Even prefer it.

Carey didn’t think she could live like this much longer. She felt that tonight, she’d come to the end of her rope. If moving up to Canada didn’t solve her problems, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.

She felt tears well up in her eyes and swallowed hard, struggling not to cry.

Carey wasn’t sure where the animal had come from.

She’d been distracted, lost in her thoughts.

Suddenly…it was just there.

Darting out from between the trees. Leaping across the road, right in front of her car.

It looked huge, with wide antlers and long powerful legs, yet it moved with fluid grace, as if in slow motion.

Mesmerized, she sat back and slammed on the brakes. Her seat belt tightened around her body; her mouth hung open. She would have screamed, but there wasn’t time. Barely time to take a gasping breath.

It was close. Too close…

She yanked the steering wheel to the left and heard a hoof nick the hood.

The car bounced over the shoulder of the road, then slid down a snowy slope. Carey continued to slam on the brakes, even yanked the emergency brake lever to no avail. She finally shielded her face with one arm, glancing back at her baby daughter, who was still miraculously asleep.

Then the car slowly rolled to a stop, the front end coasting into a tree, the final impact hard enough to jerk her forward and crunch the bumper, but not quite enough to inflate the air bag.

Carey twisted in her seat. “Lindsay? Sweetie?”

Lindsay stared at her wide-eyed, then suddenly started to cry. Her car seat was secure and hadn’t budged an inch out of place. Carey sent up a silent prayer of thanks that they weren’t hurt, then clawed at her seat belt, unfastened it and jumped out.

She stood knee-deep in snow, pulled open the back door and crawled in the back to comfort Lindsay. She took the baby from her seat and held her close. The feeling of her small, warm body pressed close was a comfort. She realized she was shaking from the shock. Lindsay soon stopped crying and relaxed against Carey’s shoulder.

Carey took a calming breath and tried to remember what she should do. She leaned over and turned on the emergency flashers. Then she wondered if anyone would see them with her car below the embankment.

“We need to call for help,” Carey told the baby. “Someone needs to come pull us out of here…wherever here is…”

She picked up her cell phone from the front seat and dialed 911.

An operator answered immediately.

“I’ve had an accident,” Carey began. “My car skidded off the road and hit a tree. I’m alone with a baby. We need some help. Right away…”

Carey tried to remain calm, but just explaining what had happened made her feel desperate and frightened.

“How old is your child, ma’am?”

“Six months, a little girl.”

“Is anyone hurt? Any bleeding?”

“No, we’re both fine. Just please, send someone to pick us up. I’m afraid that my daughter is going to get frostbite.”

“We’ll send help right away. Where are you located?”

“I… I’m not sure… I got off the highway at the last exit. Then I turned off the exit ramp… The sign said Greenwood…or Greenbriar…” Carey sighed. “I don’t live around here. I was lost and I got off the road to find a gas station…”

“Okay, miss. I have some idea where you might be. Were you traveling north or south?”



“I don’t know…” Carey tried hard not to lose her temper.

“I went right at the stop sign…I think.”

“Is the car visible from the road…?”

The connection started to break up. Carey spoke quickly.

“I don’t know… I…”

Then the phone went dead.

Carey stared at the screen. The battery had run down. She hadn’t even realized it was low. She shook it, knowing it wouldn’t help at all. She felt so frustrated, she wanted to scream.

Good Lord, this couldn’t be happening…

Had she given the operator enough information to find the car? She could hardly say for sure. It was snowing so hard. The windows of the half-buried car were already coated so that she couldn’t see out.

It was a holiday. And such a small town. She didn’t think there would be many police or EMS workers on duty tonight to come look for her.

It might take a long time. It might take…hours.

What now? Was she stuck here with Lindsay? She couldn’t start walking, not in this snow. And where would she walk to? She hadn’t seen a single house since she’d turned off the highway.

Or a car or truck passing. She didn’t want to leave Lindsay alone even for a few minutes, while she walked up to the road, but she realized she had to. She could tie her scarf to a tree or set out some other distress signal.

She pushed down a wave of panic. If they were stranded for hours, what would she do? She didn’t even want to think that far.

Carey secured Lindsay in her seat again, closed the car and headed up the snow-covered slope toward the road. The hill was steep and she thought it was a miracle the car had made it to the bottom in one piece, without either of them being hurt.



That was one lucky break.

She had to tug herself up, pulling on a branch, to get to the road again. Her leather boots with thin soles and heels were not exactly ideal for hiking, but finally, she made it.

She stood at the shoulder of the road and gasped for air, then gasped with alarm as a man ran toward her through the snow. He was big. Very big. With broad shoulders and long legs. He wore a thick parka with the hood pulled up over his head and knee-high boots.

Backlit from the headlights of a car parked down the road, his face was obscured and she couldn’t see anything more than his outline.

Carey felt frozen in place and swallowed hard, hoping he was help and not more trouble.

When he finally drew closer she could see from the patches on his jacket that he was a police officer and she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Gosh, you got here quickly. I didn’t think the 911 operator even knew where I was. Then my phone went dead and…”

He stared at her a moment. “I wasn’t sent out to find you. I was just driving home and saw the flashers.”

Home to his cozy warm house and a family, who was probably waiting for him to celebrate Christmas Eve, she added silently.

“Thanks for stopping.”

“No thanks necessary. Are you all right?”

His voice was deep and even, soothing her ragged nerves.

He took a step closer, staring down at her. “What happened to your car? Did you skid in the snow?”

“An animal jumped out from the woods. I guess it was a deer. I turned, trying to avoid it.”

“Are you traveling alone?”

A logical question. Though the way he said it and the way he was looking at her now made her swallow hard. Made her feel even more isolated…and lonely.

“I have my baby with me. She’s down in the car, but she’s fine. I left her for a minute so I could put out a distress signal.”

The word baby had barely left Carey’s lips and the officer was in motion. He skidded down the hill easily in his heavy boots, taking the last few yards on his side, without a thought for the snow. He reached the car in a few long loping strides and pulled open the door.

Carey ran behind him. She didn’t come down the hill nearly as gracefully and rode most of the way on her bottom.

By the time she reached the car, he had Lindsay out of her seat and handed her up to Carey’s waiting arms.

“She looks okay. You bundled her up well.”

Then he picked up the extra blanket on the backseat and tucked it around the baby. Carey was surprised. She hadn’t even asked him. It was an unexpected, tender gesture.

Lindsay was crying, but he didn’t seem to notice. There was something about him, a centered, calm air that seemed as unshakable as a mountain. The complete opposite of how she felt.

“Need anything from the back?” he asked.

“That blue baby bag—” she pointed it out “—and the black duffel…and the car seat, too. I guess.”

He scooped up both heavy bags and slung the straps over his shoulders as if they were empty. Then he picked up the car seat. He locked up the car and they headed back toward the road.

When they reached the snowy slope, he put the bags down and turned to her. “Let’s leave the bags and seat down here. I’ll come back for them. I’ll hold the baby if you like and we can go up together.”

Carey considered his plan for a moment, then remembered going up the hill the first time and nodded. “All right.”

She handed Lindsay over, feeling a tiny, instinctive twinge of concern. It vanished in an instant once she saw the way her rescuer cradled the baby protectively to his chest.

His strong, gentle embrace was reassuring and a much safer way for Lindsay to travel than if she had carried the baby herself.

He stood by and let her go up first. She started to slip and he was instantly at her side, one strong arm cradling Lindsay to his chest and the other suddenly wrapped around her waist, catching her close before she fell.

He looked down at her. Just about all she could see of his face, covered by his parka hood, were his eyes. Brilliant blue of a summer morning, defying the dark night and falling snow.

She focused on getting up the hill, one slippery step at a time. It was hard to ignore the man beside her. His face was suddenly so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She quickly turned away and stared straight ahead. This was the closest she’d been to anyone in over a year, since Tom had died.

“Careful now, I’ve got you. Just go slowly.”

“I can make it.” She tried hard to keep her mind on getting up the hill. The feeling of his arm around her waist and his hard strong body so close next to hers was both distracting…and energizing.

When he reached the top, she gave out a sigh of relief. She was sure he thought she was just happy the trek was over.

He carefully handed the baby over, then went down for the rest of her belongings. She wasn’t sure how he could manage the two large bags and car seat in one trip, but moments later, he emerged on the roadside, with the entire load, not even winded.

She followed him to a dark green SUV that was parked down the road. He tossed her bags in the back then secured the baby’s seat in the backseat. Carey placed Lindsay in the car seat and fastened the strap.



Then she softly kissed the baby on her forehead and stroked her cheek. Carey was sure she must be hungry and need a diaper change. “Poor sweetheart. I’ll take care of you very soon,” she promised.

Moments later, she sat up front and the police officer started the vehicle. He pushed back the hood of his parka and she finally had a good look at his face.

He was handsome. Very handsome. The eyes had been a hint. The rest was even better than she’d expected.

His dark hair was cut short, close to his head though not a crew cut. He’d pushed it back, wet from the snow, off his forehead with his hand, emphasizing his lean cheeks and the strong lines of his face, set in a serious expression, as he steered the SUV away from the side of the road and then made a wide U-turn.

They were once again headed in the direction of town, she realized, the same way she was going before she drove off the road.

She pushed back her own hood and ran her fingers through her long golden hair, damp from the snow and feeling even curlier and wilder than usual.

She put her hands up to the air vents to warm them and realized he was watching her, his glance lingering in a way that made her feel self-conscious.

It was a classic male-female glance, a taking inventory sort of look. The same she’d just given him, though he hadn’t caught her at it. Or had he? she wondered.

“Feel cold? I can turn up the heat.”

Considering the direction of her thoughts, she had to hide a smile. She didn’t need it any hotter in here.

“Thanks, I’m okay.” She pulled off her wet gloves and stuck them in her pocket. “I don’t think you ever told me your name, Officer.”



“Ben Martin. You can skip the officer part. I’m off duty. I didn’t get your name, either.”

“Oh, right. It’s Carey Mooreland. And that’s Lindsay,” she added, glancing at the baby in the backseat.

“She’s adorable. I’m glad she wasn’t hurt. You’re lucky in a way about the snow. It slowed the car down considerably. It could have been a lot worse when you hit that tree.”

“Yes, it could have been,” Carey had to agree. It definitely could have been worse, though the snow had been a major hindrance to her tonight. If not for the snow, she might be in Canada by now. Or close to it. This man had no idea.

“Is there someone you’d like to call?”

He meant a husband or some significant other, of course.

He was just trying to be helpful. But personal questions still made her nervous.

This question in particular was always a difficult one.

“It’s all right. I don’t have anyone…waiting for me.”

He glanced over at her, then back at the road again. She sensed he was curious, but didn’t push her for more information.

“I’m on my way to Portland. To visit a friend,” she said simply.

That was the cover story she’d composed for the trip. Just in case anyone asked. Portland was somewhat south of this area, she guessed. Though she wasn’t sure how far.

He nodded. His silence made her nervous. Did he believe her? Then she realized he was probably just watching his driving in the snow.

“Looks like you’re stuck. At least for the night.”

“I guess so. What do you think about the car? Can I call someone to tow it?”

“I’ll have them call from the station, though I don’t know if the local tow company will get to it tonight. I think all the tow trucks within twenty miles are backed up with calls right now.”

Carey hated hearing about delays, though she knew it was illogical to think her car would be towed during a snowstorm…on Christmas Eve night, no less.

“Where will they bring it?”

“The closest auto body shop is Anderson’s, in town. Honest guy. He won’t rip you off. Though I’m sure he’ll be closed tomorrow. You’ll probably have to wait until the day after Christmas for him to take a look at it.”

Carey’s heart sank. She’d be stuck here two days. Then there would be more time to fix the car. Who knew how long that would take? Every minute seemed precious, to keep a step ahead of her pursuers.

“Is there any other place? Besides the shop in town?”

“There are a few on the highway. But then you’ll be paying a lot more for the tow. And I can’t say how reliable those places are,” he added.

A special radio hung from the bottom of the dashboard, she noticed. He picked up the hand piece and asked someone on the other end to call for a tow truck and told them where to find the car.

Carey agreed to have the car brought to the garage in town. That seemed the easiest solution.

The snow still fell heavily and the drive was slow going.

“You can just drop us off anyplace. At a motel or something.”

She wondered where that might be. She’d been watching vigilantly out the window and all she could see was snow…and more snow.

“There’s a hotel in town. But it’s full up. Relatives that come in for the holidays,” he explained.

“Maybe I should call and check. There might be a cancellation.”

He shook his head. “Trust me. They don’t have any rooms free tonight.”

He glanced at her, the corner his mouth lifted in the promising start of a smile. She sensed he didn’t smile often. She wasn’t sure why. Just something about him.

Maybe that was a good thing. He was even better-looking, if possible, when he did. When their eyes met, she forgot for a moment what she’d even asked him.

“I have an inside track. My family owns the place. My mother and sister,” he added.

It was hard to picture this hunk of a man with a mother. But of course, he had one, along with a wife and children and all kinds of relatives, waiting for him at some big Christmas party, she suspected.

His hands were covered by thick gloves so she couldn’t check to see if he wore a ring. Then she realized her thoughts were going way off on some wacky detour. What did it matter to her if he was married or not?

“There must be someplace else.” Carey forced herself back on track. “It doesn’t have to be fancy. As long as it’s clean…and there’s heat.”

“There are a few B and Bs around, but they’re all full tonight, as well. There’s a motel a few towns north. But the highway is closed now and I don’t dare risk the ride on the back roads. Besides, that place is going to be booked, too. Especially with this weather.”

Carey considered his reply. She didn’t argue with him. It was probably true. People traveling tonight would get off the road and stop to stay over, if they had any sense at all.

“How about a hospital? Maybe they could give us a bed for the night.”

“The hospital is even farther.” Before she could answer, he added, “The usual procedure for emergency shelter is the lockup at the station in town.” He paused, his glance taking in her worried expression. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t leave you in a jail cell on Christmas Eve. I just…wouldn’t.”



His gaze met hers for a moment, then he stared back at the road again. Carey felt some indefinable current arc between them. She didn’t know what to say.

“What do you think we should do?”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Carey wondered what his solution was going to be.

“I have plenty of room at my house. We’re almost there. And I honestly don’t see any other solution.”

Carey was surprised by the offer. “Are you sure? I mean…there’s nowhere else?”

“Tomorrow there’ll be lots of vacancies. But tonight, with this snow, I can’t think of anyplace else to bring you. You said all you want is a clean room and some heat. I can guarantee that at least.”

“How about your family? Won’t they mind?” She phrased the question as diplomatically as she could manage.

“Well, there’s Dixie…my dog,” he explained. “But she’s always happy to see company.”

His answer pleased her. She didn’t want to stop and figure out why. She didn’t want to intrude if he did have a wife and family. That’s all, she told herself. It wasn’t anything more.

“I realize the situation might be a little disconcerting. I mean, you’d be smart to hesitate. I’m going to call the station. You can talk to my sergeant. Make sure I am who I say. Will that make you feel better about it?”

“All right. I guess that would be the smart thing to do.”

Ben picked up the radio handset in the car and a short time later, Carey was listening to his superior wax eloquent on Ben’s fine points as a gentleman and an officer. Any doubts at all about his trustworthiness were quickly dispelled. Not that she’d ever really suspected him.

“Thank you, Sergeant. You’ve been very helpful,” Carey said for the second or maybe third time.

Ben suddenly took the radio from her. “Thanks a bunch, Jim. You make me sound like a cross between a Boy Scout and…an action hero.”

“I forgot Sherlock Holmes,” the older man laughed into the radio. “Hey, Merry Christmas, pal. See you after the holiday.”

“Right, Merry Christmas,” Ben said, cutting off the connection.

Ben shook his head, staring straight ahead at the road. Carey thought he looked embarrassed by all the praise. Did she see a slight flush on his lean cheeks, or was it just the cold?

“Satisfied?” he asked finally.

“You sound like the star of the police force.”

“Possibly… There are only five of us.”

A smile flashed over his rugged features and he met her glance for a moment. She had to smile back. The car suddenly felt very close and dark and…intimate. She took a breath and looked out her window.

“How far to your house?” she asked.

“We’re almost there,” he said quietly.

That was good news. She was eager to put some distance between herself and her handsome rescuer.

A few moments later, he turned off the road, into a narrow lane. Tree branches, weighed down with snow, arched over the vehicle, creating a frosty tunnel.

The car bumped and struggled through the deep snow, though Ben didn’t seem to notice or have any concern that they might get stuck.

Finally a house came into view, a small, neat cabin that appeared to be made of logs, with a covered porch and a sloping, snow-covered roof and stone chimney. The windows in front had wooden shutters and window boxes.

Tall graceful pines surrounded the cabin, their covered branches glistening. Carey was reminded of a house in a picture book; in the darkness and snow, it seemed magical.

“Is that a real log cabin?” she asked as the car came to a stop.



“Yes, it is. Built it myself. With a little help from my friends,” he added.

“Quite an accomplishment.” She glanced at him. “I’m surprised your boss forgot to mention it.”

She smiled at him and he smiled back in a slow way that sent a tingle racing up her spine.

“Good point. I’ll remind him.” He turned to her. “Let’s get inside and warm up.”

Ben jumped out first and retrieved her belongings from the cargo area. Carey jumped out and took Lindsay.

As she carefully stepped through the high snow toward the door, she felt Ben’s strong, steady grasp on her arm. She glanced at him, but he didn’t say anything. Just stood by her until she was up on the porch.

He dropped the load of bags and unlocked the front door, then switched on some lights. A big shaggy dog bounded down the stairs, barking furiously. Carey was glad Ben had given her a warning.

“This must be Dixie,” she said, bending forward to let the dog smell her hand.

“How did you guess?” He didn’t laugh out loud but his blue eyes sparkled. Carey felt a tingling in her chest.

“Dixie…down. Where are your manners?” The big dog immediately sat, staring up at Ben with adoring brown eyes.

He has a way with women. I hope I’m not looking at him like that, Carey thought.

Dixie sat stiffly, her tail beating the floor. She looked to Carey like a cross between an Australian shepherd…and a pony. But she liked dogs and though this one was doubtlessly curious, she did look friendly.

Ben held on to Dixie’s collar while she strained to sniff Carey and say hello. Carey patted the dog’s head. Her fur was incredibly soft.



“Hey, Dixie. How are you? I’m sorry if we woke you up,” she said softly. “She’s sweet,” she said to Ben.

“She’s a big mush. Once you get to know her. She’s probably wondering what you’re doing here. I don’t have many visitors.”

Not many visitors? She imagined this guy had women stacked up at the door, right next to the woodpile. Maybe he was the type who always stayed at the woman’s place. So he could make a quick getaway in the morning.

He opened the door and the dog bounded outside. “Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a while. Dixie needs some exercise.”

He left the house, closing the door behind him and Carey was suddenly left alone with Lindsay, which was just as well. There was plenty of baby maintenance to perform—a diaper change, a bottle, pajamas, if she could find them.

She gazed around, trying to get her bearings. She stood at the entrance to a large, open living room with a stone fireplace on the far wall. The wide pine plank floor was polished to a mellow glow and covered by woven area rugs.

A long, comfortable-looking couch, covered with kilim pillows, and two big armchairs were arranged in the living room, near the hearth.

In the corner, by a window, she saw a mission-style desk, covered with papers and stacks of books, a laptap in the middle of the mess. All in all, a totally masculine, somewhat messy decor, yet at the same time, very homey looking.

Adjoining the living room, a dining area with a wooden table and ladder-back chairs was separated from the kitchen by an open counter space. There were open rafters across most of the ceiling, which added to the house’s rustic feeling.

Carey set the baby down on the couch and took off her jacket, then took off the baby’s snowsuit. She found the baby bag and changed Lindsay’s diaper. Then she carried her into the kitchen, where she fixed a bottle and heated it in a microwave.

The overstuffed armchairs in front of the fireplace proved as comfortable as they looked. Carey sat with Lindsay in her arms, the baby’s body growing as heavy and relaxed as a rag doll as she contentedly sucked down her bottle.

When Lindsay was finished, Carey put the bottle aside, coaxed a burp from her little girl. Then she sat back and gently rocked the baby, cradled against her shoulder.

Lindsay’s eyes grew heavy with sleep. She seemed perfectly content. It was always amazing to Carey how flexible babies were. How oblivious. The little girl had no idea of what had nearly happened tonight, how they had come within a heartbeat of being seriously hurt. And she had no notion that they were once again on the run.

Maybe someday she’d tell her daughter what they had been through this past year. When Lindsay was all grown-up and could understand. Carey only hoped when that day came, their lives would be peaceful and happy. Could that ever be? she wondered.

A fleece throw hung on the back of the armchair and Carey slipped it around her shoulders. The house was cozy and warm, but she still felt chilled to her bones and was practically shivering. Still in shock maybe, she realized. And suddenly exhausted, all the adrenaline draining from her body.

She’d been in a panic mode for hours; first, running from Vermont and then, shaken up by the accident. A shudder raced through her slim form. She and Lindsay had been lucky. Maybe Ben Martin had been right. Maybe the snowstorm had been fortunate. One of those things that at first seems an obstacle but turns out to be good luck in disguise?

Her eyes drifted closed, the snug blanket around her shoulders recalling the feeling of Ben’s strong arm surrounding her as they climbed up the hill, side by side. He’d just been doing his job, helping an accident victim. She doubted he’d even noticed.

She’d noticed. More than she should have. More than she wanted to admit, even in her private thoughts. The sense of his closeness had somehow made her feel breathless and amazingly serene at the same time. She’d felt as if she could have climbed a mountain beside him. Part of it was feeling safe and protected. A rare feeling for Carey.

The same way she felt now, in his house. Though she knew it was only a temporary illusion. It was a wonderful feeling to let go and let her guard down, just for a few hours.

Just long enough to rest. To get a second wind, she reminded herself. Before you and Lindsay move on.


Chapter Two

Carey woke slowly. She realized she’d been dreaming. A frightening dream she had often. She is always alone, walking down an empty street at night. Someone is following her, she turns and can’t see anything. She walks faster, then runs. Suddenly, they are right in front of her and reach out to grab her. She can feel a painful cold grip on her body, a touch like ice.

She fights back and screams…

Then wakes up.

“Hey…wake up. You’re dreaming. It’s okay…”

Her eyes finally opened and she blinked. Ben was crouched near her chair, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, his face very close. He’d been shaking her awake, she realized.

She sat up suddenly, feeling embarrassed as he stood up and looked down at her.

“You had a bad dream.”



She pushed her hair back with her hand. “I guess so… I can’t remember it now,” she lied.

“I shouldn’t have let you sleep in that chair. It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“It wasn’t the chair,” she assured him.

He met her gaze again but didn’t answer. He walked over to the stone hearth and tossed another log on the fire. The flames jumped and glowed, filling the room with a sudden flash of light.

“I fixed a little bed for Lindsay. I hope you don’t mind. I was afraid she might slip off your lap and I didn’t want to wake you.”

She sat up suddenly, the blanket falling from her shoulders. Her baby was no longer in her arms. She hadn’t even realized it…

“Don’t worry. She hasn’t gone very far,” Ben reassured her.

Carey looked down at her feet and found Lindsay snug and soundly asleep in her car seat, tilted back and covered with a soft blanket.

“Thank you. She looks very comfortable.”

He stood up and smiled down at her, looking quietly pleased by her compliment.

“Are you hungry? I made a bite to eat. It isn’t much, just what I could find in the refrigerator.”

“I could eat anything right now,” she admitted.

She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She stood up and followed him to the kitchen, forcing herself not to make a mad dash.

A few minutes later, she was seated at the table beside Ben, relishing spoonfuls of thick, hot beef noodle soup and eyeing the grilled cheese sandwich he’d set down beside her bowl.

Neither of them spoke and Carey forced herself to eat at a slow, polite pace.

“This is great soup,” she said between spoonfuls. “It tastes homemade.”



“My freezer is stocked with takeout containers from the hotel restaurant. Guess I’m the best-fed single guy in town.”

And probably the most chased after, Carey silently added for him. But the stocked freezer explained one reason why none of the local single females had caught him yet.

Carey did wonder at the rest of the story.

“I made the sandwich. Just don’t look too closely,” he warned.

Carey glanced at the grilled cheese, golden on one side, burned to a crisp on the other.

“Not a problem. I’m so hungry, I’ll eat anything.”

“A clean room, some heat…eats anything you put down in front of her. You’re not very hard to please, are you?”

She stared down at her plate and didn’t answer. She had her reasons these days for setting low standards. Though she’d never really been fussy or demanding. It just wasn’t her nature.

“It makes life easier,” she said finally, forcing a small smile.

“It does,” he agreed. “Though not everyone sees it that way.”

He didn’t say more. A shadow passed over his expression, dimming his brilliant eyes. She wondered what he was remembering. Some other woman who had sat here once, right where she was sitting now? Some woman who had been difficult to please?

Carey took a few bites of her sandwich. It wasn’t bad at all. Not nearly as bad as it looked. Ben rose and took the soup bowls away.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Coffee would be great. Just black is fine for me.”

“No frills. I should have guessed that.” His voice was serious, but Carey noticed a teasing light in his eye. He poured out the two mugs of coffee and carried them into the living room so that Carey could check on the baby.

Lindsay was still sleeping soundly in her makeshift bed. Carey sat down on the floor next to her and stared into the fire. Ben put another log on the burning pile and stirred up the embers until the fire flared up, bright and strong.

He stretched out on the floor not too far from her. Leaning on one arm, he sipped his coffee and stared into the hearth.

Carey had been watching the fire, but now, could hardly take her eyes off her host. He looked so long and lean, so relaxed…and sexy. She hugged her knees to her chest and took a bracing sip of her coffee.

“Have you lived around here long?” Her voice came out in a croak and she hoped he didn’t notice.

Okay, so she didn’t sound like the most witty conversationalist, but she was eager to break the heavy silence that had fallen between them.

“I’ve lived here most of my life. I had two years in the navy and then went to college in North Carolina. I lived down there for a while. But finally, I came back to Maine.”

“All those mild winters start to wear on you?”

A half smile played about the corners of his mouth. A dimple creased his cheek and tiny lines fanned out at the corners of his eyes. She hadn’t noticed that before.

“That was part of it. No challenge. And it never felt like Christmas.”

Carey had spent the holidays in the Caribbean once. Her late husband’s idea. Ben was right. It hadn’t felt like Christmas at all.

“I came back three years ago. My father was sick and my folks needed my help.”

She wasn’t surprised. He seemed like the type who would do the right thing. Put aside his own needs to help someone he loved.

“When did he pass away?” she asked quietly.

“About a year after I returned.” She heard the note of loss in his voice and it struck a chord within her. That was something else they had in common.



“But you stayed.”

He shrugged. “It’s a small town, but I guess it suits me. For now, anyway.”

Maybe with his father gone, his mother and sister relied on him even more. But she sensed he was too private—or too modest—to admit it.

“I get to be the star of the Greenbriar police force,” he added, a sparkle returning to his eyes.

“So I’ve heard.” She met his glance and smiled. She didn’t mean to flirt with him…but it suddenly felt as if she was.

“What about you?” he asked curiously.

The light moment was suddenly gone. She pulled back into herself like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“You said you were headed to Portland. Where are you coming from?”

She couldn’t stray too far from the truth. Her car had Vermont plates. Surely he’d noticed. He was a policeman. But she did need to protect herself, in case those who pursued her ever found this man and asked him questions.

“Burlington.” She gave the name of a town miles on the opposite side of the state from Blue Lake. Then, realizing that a route from Burlington to Portland wouldn’t have taken her through this area, she added, “I went up to Freeport to visit a relative. A great-aunt. She… She wanted to see the baby.”

Carey smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to cover a sudden fit of nerves.

“So your friends in Portland, are they expecting you for Christmas?”

Carey shrugged. “More or less. I’m really going there for a job. They own a store and need some help. Someone they can trust.”

Did she have to add that last embellishment? Keep it simple, Carey. That was the trick to getting away with all these fabrications.



Stick to your story. If anyone asked—she was going to Portland because a friend had offered her a job in his store, a clothing store. Period.

Ben sipped his coffee. She hoped he was finished with his questions. Under other circumstances, having such an attractive man asking all these questions about her would have been a real ego boost. Tonight it was nerve-racking.

“What sort of work do you do?”

She shrugged. “I’ve tried just about everything. I’ve been a waitress, a cabdriver, a receptionist, a dog walker…I’ve worked in department stores. I’ve worked in a flower shop. I liked that, but my allergies got to me. I’ve handed out free samples in supermarkets. Once I had to dress up as a giant cookie, in a shopping mall…” She paused. “Do you really want to hear more?”

“Is there more?” He smiled, looking impressed.

“More than I want to remember.” She paused, not knowing how much private information she wanted to disclose. Or how honest she dared to be with him about her real history. “I took some of those jobs working my way through college. I was studying literature. But I really wanted to be an actress. I went to New York for a while and did all the cattle-call auditions. That sort of thing. It didn’t work out for me, so I went back home.”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m sure it’s a tough business. Very competitive.”

“Yes, it was. I don’t think I was thick-skinned enough. Or maybe, I lacked in the ambition department.”

He considered her words for a moment. “You’re definitely not lacking in the looks department.”

His gaze met hers and held it. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and hoped he didn’t notice. Finally, she looked away, staring at the fire again.



“That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s just the truth.”

Carey felt self-conscious. The way he was looking at her made heat rise to her cheeks. She hoped he thought it was just the fire.

“So, you went back home. Where is that?” he prodded.

She started to say, “Cleveland,” then caught herself.

“Scranton, Pennsylvania. Just outside of the city actually,” she embellished. “A small town called Wilkes Barre.”

“You grew up there?” he asked.

She nodded and forced a smile. She felt her heart beating so loudly, she was almost certain he could hear it. He was a policeman. Couldn’t he tell that everything she’d told him was a bald-faced lie? Well, maybe not everything…but enough of it.

She hated living like this and doubly hated the man who had brought her to this point, a point as low as he was himself. She knew it was wrong to hate another person. To wish them ill. But Quinn…

He wasn’t even a person. He was a heartless, conscienceless…monster.

She looked over at Ben, at his expression—kind, serious, interested. She had the sudden, insane urge to tell him everything. How she had been so vulnerable and easily exploited after Tom died. So naive and easily taken in and now, how she’d found herself stuck in a nightmare. One that would never end.

Would he understand? Would he try to turn her in…or try to help her?

“You look…upset. Am I asking too many questions?” His gaze found hers and held it. “I’m sorry. A policeman’s habit.”

The urge to pour out her heart nearly overwhelmed her. Then suddenly, she stepped back from the edge and got control of herself.

“It’s okay. I’m just tired… My husband died a little over a year ago. The holidays are hard.”



That wasn’t entirely a lie. Though if Tom were still alive Carey doubted they would still be married. After a whirlwind courtship, they had never been happily married and were about to separate when she’d found out she was pregnant. They decided to stick it out until the baby came and give it one more try.

Then Tom had died and she was left a widow, three months pregnant.

“That’s tough. I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “Was it sudden?”

Carey nodded. “An accident at a construction site.”

Tom had worked in the front office of Quinn’s construction company, a project manager. He’d been at a building site, gone up on scaffolding and had fallen off. He’d died instantly from his injuries. The autopsy found a high level of alcohol in his blood and there were witnesses who claimed he’d been drinking at lunchtime. Their insurance company was absolved from paying her anything more than a small death benefit.

She didn’t mind for herself, but there was the baby to think of. That’s when Quinn had stepped in. Swooped in, more like it.

When she’d first met Quinn, she’d thought he was a kind man. It was a dark time and, with no close family to help her, she’d taken the help Quinn had so generously offered. Money to tide her over until she was ready to work and a good job as a bookkeeper in the main office. Perhaps he’d been afraid that Carey was going to sue him for responsibility for the accident, but she wasn’t that type of person. Besides, lawsuits and lawyers cost money and she needed every dollar to support herself and Lindsay. Her pregnancy with Lindsay was difficult. She was sick all the time. She didn’t have any close family to help her and he’d insisted on helping her financially until she was able to work again.

Carey was alone in the world. Her father had left when she was very young. She’d never really known him and didn’t know now if he was dead or alive. Her mother had raised her in a loving home, though they’d never had much money. She’d been very proud when Carey graduated college and had high hopes for her only daughter. But she was killed in a car accident a few months later. Carey was devastated.

She could see now that was part of the reason she’d married Tom so quickly. He’d swept her off her feet, acting as if he couldn’t live without her. But once they were married, he’d grown bored and restless very quickly.

Looking back, Carey could see that she’d been very naive and vulnerable. Easily taken in by Tom and, later, by Quinn, who was older. He’d acted very fatherly toward her, though sometimes taking too great an interest in her personal life, wanting to have too much control.

After Lindsay was born, he offered her a job at his company, her office steps from his own. A good salary, flexible hours and she was even able to bring the baby with her whenever necessary. Quinn didn’t mind.

He doted on Lindsay and bought her every kind of toy and stuffed animal imaginable. He seemed to enjoy having her in the office. Carey thought of him as a loving uncle. Or even a father figure. She’d been very stupid and blind, never realizing how Quinn really thought of himself.

As Lindsay’s future stepfather.

No matter how gently or diplomatically she’d try to explain that she wasn’t interested in that kind of relationship, he still held out hopes. He still acted as if someday she’d change her mind. He was waiting for her to get over Tom’s death. Then her feelings for him would change, he’d say.

The only thing Carey wanted to change was her job. But it wasn’t that easy. She began to fear his reaction if she resigned. His reprisals to business rivals who he believed “crossed him” were chilling. Carey began to feel stalked by his obsessive interest, to be truly afraid of him and felt a prisoner under his ever-watchful eye.

She could save a little money out of her weekly paycheck, but never enough to escape. Still, she scrimped and saved for her freedom, knowing she could never tell him outright that she was leaving town. She’d hinted at it once and his reaction had been frightening. Of course, he was sorry afterward. So miserable and contrite, leaving a dozen roses on her desk, a snowsuit and stuffed toys for Lindsay, begging her forgiveness. Quinn needed help. Serious help for his mood swings and temper tantrums. But who in his circle had the guts to tell him? Not Carey.

Finally, Quinn went too far. She discovered that he was meddling in the books and tax records, in ways that were unethical, even illegal. She was afraid of his reaction, but confronted him anyway. Her conscience demanded it. As she expected, he flew into a rage, and threatened her.

He claimed she was culpable, too. She was handling a lot of the financial records, wasn’t she? She could never leave now because he’d use the improprieties against her.

Carey pretended to heed his warnings and played along, promising that she’d let him judge what was best for the business. But when she had a chance, she scraped up what little money she could, accepted help from friends and ran as far away from Quinn as she could manage.

She went to Chicago, figuring it would be the best place to disappear into a crowd. She also had a college friend who helped her find a job and get settled under a new identity. Her life was falling into place again.

The friends back in Ohio who helped her get away and stay hidden were Paul Newton and his wife, Nora. Paul was one of Quinn’s site foremen and kept Carey informed about Quinn’s activities. Quinn had been looking for her, Paul reported, but after a few months when her trail went cold, he seemed to give up or be distracted by more immediate concerns.

A few weeks ago, Paul reported that Quinn’s business practices, along with a mortgage company that he dealt with often, had come under investigation. He was indicted as part of a ring, charged with rigging fake mortgages and defrauding the bank of millions.

Carey learned that investigators for the prosecution were looking for her. They wanted her testimony and maybe even believed she’d been involved in the illegal deals, too.

Carey knew if she dared to come out of hiding and profess her innocence, and testify against Quinn, he would find a way to take revenge on her…and Lindsay. While her conscience urged her to offer her testimony, her instincts as a mother overruled. She didn’t dare risk putting her baby in danger.

She didn’t trust the authorities to believe her. Or protect her. The man was more than obsessive, he was insane. What if he wasn’t found guilty? Or wasn’t given a long prison sentence? He would come after her for sure. She couldn’t take that chance. So now she had both the legal authorities looking for her and Quinn’s private investigators.

If she stopped to think about it too much, it was hard to function…to keep going. To do what she had to do to survive…

Ben’s voice broke into her rambling thoughts. She could tell from his expression he thought she must have been lost in thoughts of her late husband.

“The holidays can be hard if you’re alone,” he said finally. “Everywhere you look, everyone seems so happy. If you don’t feel that way, you think something must be wrong with you. You feel so…out of sync.”

That was exactly the way she felt. Though in her case, it was even more complicated. He seemed to understand and feel the same. She wondered if he had any plans to celebrate Christmas Day or would avoid it by going to work. But she didn’t feel comfortable asking him.

“Would you like some more coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Carey shook her head and sat up.

It was wonderful to sit with him like this, talking and staring at the fire. She worried that if she sat much longer she’d get so relaxed, she’d end up giving all her secrets away.

“I think I’d better turn in. Before I fall asleep again in your living room.”

“You’re welcome to sack out anyplace you like. But I did put your things in the guest room and made up the bed with clean sheets. You should be comfortable there.”

He rose from the floor in a quick, agile motion, then stretched down his hand to her. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Carey at first ignored his help, then reached up and put her hand in his. She needed a tug. She was bone-tired after her ordeal today and could barely move.

She came to her feet and they suddenly stood face-to-face, so close she could feel his breath stirring her hair.

He gazed down at her, studying her face. She tried hard to avoid looking into his eyes, but it was impossible.

He lifted one hand and touched her soft curly hair, pushing a strand back from her cheek. His hand lingered there for a moment, cupping her cheek. Carey knew he was about to kiss her and knew she ought to step away. But somehow, her feet wouldn’t move, stuck firmly in place. Somehow, her gaze wouldn’t break away from his as his head dipped and his face came even closer.

Her lips parted and she took in a deep breath, her eyes starting to drift closed.

Lindsay’s soft whimper broke the silence. They both stepped back and looked down at the baby. She’d been sleeping so peacefully all this time, Carey hadn’t fussed over her at all.



Carey knelt and checked the baby’s diaper, which was dry. Then she patted Lindsay’s back, murmuring softly to her. The baby was soon fast asleep again.

Ben leaned down and spoke in a whisper. “I’ll carry the car seat to your room. No need to wake her.”

“Good idea,” Carey whispered back.

Ben lifted the basket easily, baby and all. He headed for the stairway and Carey followed.

At the top of the stairs he turned left and led her to a small bedroom at the end of the hallway. A milk glass lamp on a small table by the bed cast the room in a soft glow. A full-size bed pushed against one wall took up most of the space. It was covered with a white-and-blue quilt with a traditional wedding ring pattern, a striped wool blanket folded at the foot of the bed and fluffy pillows.

A small white painted dresser and a rocking chair were the only other furnishings. The ceiling slanted with the eaves of the roof above, lending the room a cozy, warm feeling.

Carey saw that Ben had already brought up her duffel bag and other belongings and left them at the foot of the bed.

“Well…here you are. The bathroom is the next door down, on the right. My room is at the other end of the hall. If you need anything, just call me.”

As he spoke, he started to back out of the room. Carey watched from where she stood by the bed. He suddenly seemed nervous and she could guess why. The sight of the big empty bed made her acutely conscious of their attraction, too, and how he had just nearly kissed her… And now that they were alone together in this house all night long…

She imagined herself and Ben, lost in a rapturous embrace, rolling around on the big soft bed… Then she blinked to dispel the image.

Ben had been speaking, but she’d lost track.



“…well, good night. See you in the morning.” He stood in the doorway, his hands dug into the front pockets of his jeans, filling the space with his big body.

She started to take a step toward him, then decided it was best to say good-night from a safe distance.

“Thanks again for all your help. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found us.”

He shook his head, embarrassed at her gratitude. “I’m just glad that you and Lindsay are okay. Good night, Carey…Merry Christmas.”

The soft, deep tone of his voice seemed to hold a note of longing, a single note that touched something deep within her.

“Good night, Ben.” She met his gaze briefly before he closed the door.


Chapter Three

Carey sat down on the edge of the bed. She listened as Ben’s footsteps faded down the hallway, followed by Dixie’s soft tread. Then she heard a door open and close.

What had gotten into her tonight?

She barely knew the man and here she was, ready to just…lose all control if he’d so much as kissed her.

It had to be the accident and being rescued by him. Feeling saved and protected. It had to be this cozy house and the spell cast by the firelight. She’d been fending for herself for a long time. She was tired and vulnerable. Especially tonight.

But she couldn’t let her guard down. Not even with a man like Ben. Especially not a man like him. One who was so honest and straight.

Carey dug through her purse and pulled out her cell phone, then found the power cord in her duffel and plugged it into the wall and the other end, into her phone.

She flipped it open and turned it on. There was a message and she recognized the number. Paul and Nora Newton. She dialed her mailbox and listened to the call.

“Carey, it’s Paul. I just wanted to check in with you, see where you’re at. Nora sends her love. We know you’re not having much of a Christmas, but we’re thinking of you. Give the baby a kiss for us and call when you can. We hope that you’re at least safe and warm.”

The familiar voice was a comfort. Paul and Nora were almost like parents to her. Yet she wondered if there was something more Paul wanted to tell her. Did he have some news about Quinn?

She’d call back tomorrow and let him know she was stuck in Maine for a few days. She hoped the delay wouldn’t help Quinn’s investigators catch up to her.

Lindsay was still sound asleep in the seat, which now sat on the bed, close to the wall. Carey leaned over and stroked the baby’s soft cheek with her fingertip.

They were definitely safe and warm here, in Ben Martin’s house. At least for tonight.



Carey woke slowly from a deep sleep. At first, she didn’t remember where she was. Then it all came back, the accident and Ben Martin. Sitting in his kitchen and then by the fire. Nearly kissing him… She remembered that very clearly.

She peered into the car seat that sat beside her on the bed. Lindsay was still asleep. She looked like a little angel. The makeshift cradle must be very comfortable, Carey thought.

The bedroom was filled with the soft glow of morning sunlight reflected off the freshly fallen snow. Carey got up and pulled back the curtains. The snowfall had ended sometime during the night and the sky was clear blue and cloudless. Every inch outdoors was covered with white.

Mostly, Carey saw tall pine trees. Out in front of the cabin, she saw the large green SUV. Someone—Ben, of course—had already shoveled in front of the cabin, cleaned off the vehicles and shoveled a car-wide path leading up to his private lane. She wondered if they would have trouble getting out of here today. She hoped not.

Lindsay began to stir and Carey picked her up, then took care of her. She set the basket in a safe place in the bathroom while she showered and dressed in jeans and a soft blue sweater.

Her long curly hair was a sight, but she didn’t want to take the time to wash it. She swept it up in a loose knot and clipped it at the back of her head. She didn’t have any makeup handy, but did find some lip gloss in the bottom of her bathroom kit and swiped it on.

She would have liked to look nicer across the breakfast table this morning. But what was the difference? Ben’s interested glances and rare smiles might give her ego a boost. But nothing could come of it. She’d be leaving here in a day or two and would never see him again. She had to remember that. Though each time she stared into those blue eyes, she seemed to fall headfirst, into the deep end.

She carried Lindsay downstairs in her basket. The smell of coffee and something cooking led her to the kitchen.

Ben stood at the stove, his back turned toward her. He wore a dark blue Henley shirt over jeans. The soft knit fabric emphasized his broad shoulders and back. The worn jeans draped his lean hips and long legs like an advertisement for masculine sex appeal.

He turned to her, taking her in from head to toe with a sweeping glance. Carey was glad she’d gone for the lip gloss.

“Merry Christmas.” His voice was deep and quiet. Almost serious.

“Merry Christmas, Ben…I almost forgot,” she confessed.

“I didn’t have time to get you anything. So I made you some pancakes and bacon.”

He flipped a pancake with a long spatula, then glanced over his shoulder at her.

“The homemade gifts are always the best. Especially if they’re edible. Anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so. There’s coffee in that pot. The pancakes will be done in a minute. How’s Lindsay this morning? Did she have a good sleep?”

“Straight through the night. She slept much later than usual, too.”

So did I, Carey realized, glancing at the clock. She felt embarrassed for coming down so late, while Ben had been up and about, shoveling snow and cooking pancakes.

Carey made Lindsay a bottle of milk and heated it in the microwave, then fed the baby some cereal and a jar of peaches. The baby was finished with her breakfast at just about the same time Ben brought the platters of food to the table.

Carey balanced Lindsay on her knee as she fixed herself a dish and started eating. “Mmm…these are good. How do you get them to come out so thin?”

Carey wasn’t very good in the kitchen and was impressed by anyone who could cook.

“The great chefs never tells their secrets.” He smiled slightly, then sat back and took a sip of coffee. “I owed you for the burned grilled cheese.”

“The grilled cheese was fine.” She shrugged. “But these are…much better.”

She dipped a forkful of pancake in a puddle of syrup on her plate and popped it into her mouth. These really were the best pancakes she’d had in a long time. She glanced around the kitchen and could see he’d gone to some trouble to fix such a nice breakfast. She would insist on cleaning up.

Then she’d insist on leaving.

He’d gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable in his home and she didn’t feel right causing any more work for him. He had his own life, his own obligations and plans for the holiday. Though he’d only mentioned his family, she was sure that there must be a woman in the picture, somewhere.

“I’d better call some hotels this morning and see if I can find a room,” Carey said suddenly. She glanced at him, but he didn’t show any reaction.

“I can take you to the Greenbriar Inn in town.”

“The inn your family runs?”

“That’s right.” He dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin. “I called this morning and told my mother about you. She has plenty of guests checking out today. She’s going to find a nice room for you and Lindsay.”

Carey didn’t know what to say. He thought of everything, didn’t he? “I appreciate your help, Ben. Once again.”

“It wasn’t much. Just a phone call.”

“I hope it’s not out of your way to take us there? Maybe I should call a cab.”

He leaned back in his chair and laughed. “There are only two taxis in this town, Carey, and neither are pulled by reindeer, so I think you’re stuck riding with me. Some of the roads won’t be plowed, but we’ll get through. I’m going to the inn later. It’s not any trouble to take you.”

“I thought you might be working today.”

“I have the day off. No excuse to miss the family Christmas party.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile, but Carey sensed that given half a chance, he would have liked to skip the family party.

“Is it a big group?”

“Big enough. Aunts, uncles, cousins… We have a big family on both sides and they all assume that since my mother runs a hotel with a huge dining room, she should host all the holidays. She complains,” he confessed, “but I don’t think she’d ever give it up, even if someone offered to take over.”

It sounded like a very big party. Carey wasn’t surprised that Ben had mixed feelings about being part of it. He didn’t seem the type who enjoyed big parties. She could already tell that much about him.

“How about you? Does your family have parties on the holidays?”

Carey shook her head. “My folks are both gone. My dad died when I was in high school and my mother, just a few years ago. My parents would entertain a few relatives and friends at Christmastime. But it was usually pretty quiet. I do have some nice memories of those days,” she said wistfully. “Special presents. Baking cookies with my mom. Singing Christmas carols. That sort of thing…”

She’d never told anyone that, Carey realized. Not even Tom. But no one else had ever asked, had they?

Ben’s expression was thoughtful. “You’re pretty much alone in the world right now, aren’t you?”

Carey shrugged, making light of his question. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. There’s Lindsay,” she said, glancing down at the baby. Lindsay was the joy of her heart. She’d do anything for her. “We have each other. We’re independent types,” she added.

“I can see that,” he said quietly.

She felt the conversation growing too serious. “What time do you want to leave for town?” she asked suddenly.

“In about an hour.” He glanced at his watch. “That should be enough time, even with the snow.”

Carey rose and picked up some dirty dishes.

“I can do that,” Ben said.

“Sorry, my turn. You made breakfast,” she reminded him. “This will be my Christmas present.”

She glanced at him and caught a rare smile. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and watched her work.

“It was this…or a tie. You don’t seem the tie type, though.”

His smile grew wider. “You’re right. I’m not.”

He was anything but. You’d have to be blind not to see that, Carey reflected. She worked quickly, focusing on her tasks.

He watched her for a moment more, then started to help her. She didn’t argue with him, though she felt a bit light-headed from his nearness in the small kitchen. She was relieved when they were done and she was able to take Lindsay upstairs again and get ready to leave for the inn.



The short stay at Ben’s cabin had worked an amazing effect. She felt so relaxed, as if she’d been on a weeklong vacation. She’d eaten well, slept well and her pressing worries had suddenly seemed very distant. All the voices in her head were muffled by the snowfall and her mind totally distracted by her handsome, compelling host.

Now as they drove toward town, Carey felt all her cares rushing in again. But it was Christmas, she reminded herself. Even if she wasn’t going to celebrate the day, she could at least give herself a day off from worrying.

She watched the snow-covered scenery pass by. It all looked different in the daylight. Now she could see the road she’d driven down did have a few houses scattered here and there. Or at least, roadside mailboxes and narrow lanes that seemed to indicate life up in the woods. The houses soon became more visible and frequent. She realized they were coming into town.

Greenbriar wasn’t even a full dot on the map. But up close, it was a pretty and surprisingly lively looking place, with shops, restaurants, a post office, movie theater and a town hall. A lot like the town she’d left inVermont—Blue Lake. But a bit bigger, she thought. The village was decorated beautifully, with wreaths on shop windows and garlands strung across Main Street.

Ben pulled up to a huge, Victorian mansion that faced the village green. A wooden sign in front read Greenbriar Inn in gold lettering. The three-story building was painted a muted rose color with burgundy, forest-green and golden-yellow trim.

The first floor was circled by a wide, columned porch and the second floor had a large balcony in front. The porch was draped with pine garlands and wreaths hung in all the windows on the first and second floor, each with long satin bows. A huge pine wreath decorated the front entranceway, double doors arched on top.

All in all, Carey could rarely remember ever seeing such an amazing old building.

“Here we are.” Ben parked and turned off the engine.

“Wow. It’s fantastic.” She turned to him. “Did you grow up in there?”

He nodded slowly. “I always wished we lived in a ‘real’ house. Though I certainly found a lot of ways to get in trouble living in a hotel while other kids never had the opportunity.”

“I’d never take you for the mischievous type, Ben,” she said honestly.

He smiled and pocketed his keys. “You don’t know me very well. Yet.”

His words held a promise. Or was it a dare? One she’d like to take him up on. She did want to know him better. But that wasn’t going to happen. Carey sighed and gathered her belongings.

She had to stay in town a few days for her car, but it would probably be best to avoid seeing much more of him. She already knew she was amazingly attracted and could easily have feelings for him. Very easily, she thought.

Ben got out and started to unload the car. There were bags of gifts for his family and Carey’s luggage. They managed to get everything up on the porch and then, into the hotel foyer. Carey couldn’t help gazing around at the decor, as Ben did most of the heavy lifting.

The hotel lobby was not large, with several sitting areas, but elegantly decorated. A registration desk stood at one end of the room. A woman rushed out from a doorway behind the desk. It appeared to lead to a small office.

Her expression brightened at the sight of Carey and Lindsay and Carey could tell immediately she was Ben’s mother. Her bright blue eyes were a giveaway. Her dark hair was threaded with silver, pulled back in a neat upswept hairstyle. She wore pearl earrings, a cream-colored scoop-neck sweater and a black velvet skirt that came down below her knees. She smiled as she walked out from behind the desk.

“Merry Christmas. You must be Carey and Lindsay.”

Carey nodded. “That’s us.”

“I’m Ben’s mother, Thea.” She stuck out her hand and Carey shook it. “Ben told me about your accident. How frightening for you. It was so lucky that you and the baby weren’t hurt.”

“Yes, we were lucky.”

Ben came back inside with more gift bags, the last of them. “Merry Christmas, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Ben.”

“I see you’ve met Carey. I can bring her things up if her room is ready.”

“That would be a help. We’re very shorthanded today. I gave the staff the day off, of course.” She started walking across the lobby and Carey followed. Ben picked up Carey’s bags and also followed.

“I’ve put you in a nice room on the second floor. It’s really a double, with room for the baby. It has a lovely view of the green.”

They climbed a stairway up two short flights and came out in a wide hall. Thea led them to a nearby door and opened it with a key she had in her pocket. The door seemed to stick for a moment and she pulled it toward her and wiggled the knob.

“Oh, dear. Ben, you’ll have to fix this when you come next time.” She glanced at her son as the door finally swung open.

“Just put it on the list.” His tone was quiet and resigned.

Carey didn’t realize he helped out here, but it did make sense when she thought about it.

Ben stepped aside and let his mother and Carey walk in first. The sticky lock was soon forgotten.

The room was large and tastefully decorated with blue-and-white-striped drapes over sheers and a matching satin bed set. More of a suite, Carey noticed, with a separate sitting area. Thea opened a large wooden armoire that contained a TV and small refrigerator.

“It’s lovely,” Carey said. She stepped over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Long French doors led to a balcony and framed a view of the snow-covered village green.

Ben came in and set down the luggage. “Very nice. I’ve always liked this view.”

Thea smiled at him in an amused way. “Glad you approve. I found a portable crib for the baby. It’s down in the office. Ben can bring it up for you later,” she said to Carey. “We’ll let you unpack and freshen up. Come down to the party anytime you’re ready. Ben will save a place for you.”

The party? Did she mean their family party? Carey didn’t plan on joining Ben and his family today. For one thing, she didn’t want to intrude and be even more trouble. For another, it was far easier for her to keep to herself and not be forced to answer a lot of questions…and tell a lot of lies.

His mother seemed to read her thoughts easily. Was her expression so transparent?

Thea took a step closer and rested her hand lightly on Carey’s arm. “Of course you’ll join us. You must. We aren’t serving any food in the restaurant today, for one thing. Nothing in town is open, either. You have to come down and eat. And we’d love to have you. That’s what Christmas is all about.”

Carey smiled at her, but didn’t seem convinced. Thea glanced at her son, looking for some help.

“I always feel out of sync at these things and you can keep me company.” He stared down into her eyes, his blue eyes working their special magic, melting her willpower.

He’d changed from his snow-shoveling, pancake-making clothes before they’d left the house and looked very handsome in a slim-fitting black pullover and a dark gray sport jacket.

“My mother is only trying to scare you about the food. If you really don’t want to come down, I’ll bring something up for you.”

There was definitely safety in numbers, Carey decided. No telling what would happen if she stayed up here with Ben providing room service.

“Of course I’ll come. Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Martin.”

“It’s Thea…and you’re very welcome.” She smiled slightly, then glanced over at Ben. “We’re still on the appetizers. No rush. I’ll see you two downstairs.”

Thea closed the door behind her but Ben stayed, Carey noticed. “Don’t you need to go down and see your family? I won’t be very long,” she told him.

“I can wait. I’m afraid if I leave you up here, you might be tempted to hide out all day.”

His suspicions were correct. The way he’d read her mind made her smile.

“Is that a law around here? No one can be alone on Christmas?”

“It might be,” he teased her back. “You don’t want to end up in the lockup after all. Not when you’ve just landed in such a cushy spot.”

“You’re right. That wouldn’t be very smart.” She opened her bag, took out some clothes and put them in a drawer. “Your mother is very nice. Very…hospitable.”

“She’s a natural at making people feel welcome. Maybe that’s what keeps this place in business after all.”

“Is there some problem?”

Ben shrugged. He picked up a stuffed dog, then waved it at Lindsay, who was lying on the bed. “The inn hasn’t been doing that well since my father died. She’s had to let a lot of the help go. It’s hard for her. I try to help, with repairs and the outdoor work when I can and my sister works here, too. She does all the food service. But it’s still a lot of responsibility for one person. Sometimes she talks about selling it. But I’d hate to see that happen,” he said honestly.

Carey didn’t know what to say. She’d heard there were always complications and tensions when a family ran a business together. She guessed Ben’s family was not immune, though he seemed very easygoing.

It didn’t seem the time to talk about these private matters. Carey didn’t want to seem as if she was prying, either. Lindsay soon got bored with the stuffed toy and Ben picked her up, talking softly to her while she patted his head with her hands.

Carey liked the way he handled the baby. His strong but gentle touch touched her heart. That was just the way she’d imagined a good stepfather would treat her little girl. If she ever found a good stepfather for Lindsay…which right now seemed highly unlikely.

Carey found a lipstick and swiped on a fresh coat, then fluffed up her hair with her fingers and put on a pair of silver hoop earrings she’d found in her makeup bag.

She definitely wasn’t dressed for a party. This morning, she’d pulled on a blue velour hooded top with a cream-colored camisole underneath, jeans and boots. She wondered if she should at least change to a dressy blouse and put on some jewelry.

Ben stood near the door, watching her. “Don’t worry, Carey. You look…perfect.”

She glanced at him, then looked away. “No, I don’t, but thanks,” she said, smiling at him.

Perfect? She knew it was just a word. Something anyone might say. He didn’t really mean anything by it. Still, the tone of his voice and the way he looked at her made her feel something positively electric between them, like a bolt of heat lightning. “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep your family waiting for us.” She scooped up her bag, suddenly eager to join the party downstairs.

Hanging around a hotel room with this man was not a great idea. Lindsay was not much of a chaperone.


Chapter Four

The family gathering was just as Ben had described it. Maybe even bigger and noisier, Carey thought, with everyone talking, eating and laughing at once.

Carey knew that if she hadn’t felt the gentle pressure of Ben’s hand on her back, guiding her into the dining room, she would have made some polite excuse and run back upstairs again.

Thea’s guests sat at a long table that stretched from one end of the large room to the other. The room was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with arrangements of red-and-white roses mixed with holly and trailing ivy, white candles of various sizes, glowing everywhere, and a large Christmas tree at the room’s far end, surrounded by piles of gifts.

A gang of children, too excited to eat, ran around chasing each other. They had clearly started the day in their best clothes, but now shirttails were flapping, satin sashes were trailing and ponytails had come undone.



They looked as if they were having a great time, as children know how to do instinctively at these kinds of parties. Before too long the baby in her arms would be running with the pack, Carey thought wistfully. Though they would not be part of any big holiday reunions like this one.

Thea had saved seats for Carey and Ben, and also set up a high chair for the baby. Ben led them to their places and they sat down. He introduced Carey to those seated nearby, mostly married cousins and aunts, from what Carey could gather. She tried hard but couldn’t keep all the names straight in her head.

Everyone seemed very welcoming and there was a great deal of talk about the snowfall, their different routes traveling to Greenbriar, and about the dinner, which emerged slowly from the kitchen, each course more delicious than the next.

It seemed that Ben’s sister, Luanne, had prepared the entire meal and was busy working in the kitchen throughout the festivities.

The menu was extensive—with a salad course, roast goose, baked ham and beef tenderloin, all kinds of side dishes, garlic mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes and corn bread stuffing. There were platters of roast vegetables, asparagus, stuffed mushrooms and string beans with almonds.

Carey hoped the chef would emerge at some point. She wanted to meet the talent behind such a wonderful Christmas feast. She did see Ben’s mother, Thea, running in and out of the swinging doors, carrying out more and more dishes laden with food.

Carey didn’t feel pressured to socialize and mostly sat quietly, just watching everyone. It was a lively, warm gathering and she thought Ben was lucky to be part of such a big family. It was something she’d missed growing up and missed in her life now, too.

Ben sat on her left, talking mostly to a cousin about his own age named Jeff, who sat across the table. Jeff was a lawyer who lived in Connecticut. He and Ben seemed to have a good rapport.

Carey was seated across from Jeff’s wife, Alice, a friendly blonde in her mid-thirties. She was busy keeping her eye on their three children, and didn’t bother Carey with too many personal questions. Carey was able to answer with the cover stories she’d told Ben.

Until, as Alice passed a platter of roast goose, she said, “So, how long have you and Ben been dating?”

A mouthful of corn bread caught in Carey’s throat. She blinked and smiled.

“We aren’t dating. I just met Ben last night. On the road. I had a car accident and he stopped to help me.”

Carey carefully omitted the part about how she stayed over at Ben’s house. That would only give Alice the wrong impression…again.

“Oh, that’s too bad. About your accident, I mean.” Alice cast her a sympathetic look, but also seemed as if she didn’t quite believe that Carey and Ben were not romantically involved.

Carey could hardly blame her. She supposed to the rest of the party, they did look like a couple. They’d walked in together and were now seated side by side, with Ben’s arm slung around the back of her chair in a familiar way, and he’d also just taken Lindsay into his lap so Carey could finish her dinner.

Alice’s look seemed to say that maybe Carey didn’t think they were involved…but they were.

One of Alice’s little boys ran up to her to ask a question, interrupting the adult conversation. Carey was relieved. But suddenly she felt self-conscious. Did everyone here think she was Ben’s girlfriend?

She suddenly wanted to tap the side of her glass, stand up and announce a disclaimer. “Hey, everyone…just so you know, Ben and I are not dating. We just met last night…at a car accident.”



Then she felt silly. Did it matter what Ben’s family thought? It would only really matter to him. After she left. He probably only saw these relatives once or twice a year anyway and most likely, didn’t care what they thought about his social life.

She also knew, someplace deep inside, she was cooperating with this mistaken impression.

How easy it would be to slip into that role of his girlfriend, his romantic partner. And it was Christmas. And they were both alone. So perhaps playing this pretend game for the day was a harmless but helpful way for each of them to get through the holiday?

Ben’s sister, Luanne, finally emerged, wearing kitchen whites—a chef’s white jacket, and work pants. She was tall, with a full, shapely figure. She looked a few years younger than Ben and shared his good looks. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she also had the trademark Martin blue eyes, Carey noticed.





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