A Wedding in December

“You disapprove of me. You think I’m controlling and interfering.”

He stood up. “I think you love your sister.”

“Are you an only child?”

“Yes.”

“And your parents?”

“My mother lives in the next valley. My father’s whereabouts are unknown since the divorce.”

“He didn’t stay in touch with you?” She couldn’t imagine not having her dad in her life. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s life. Things happen. Are you warm enough?”

“Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry you have an impromptu house guest.” Maybe one day she’d be able to talk about her parents’ divorce in the same calm tone he used. To steady herself, she stood up and walked around the room, taking in the small details. The custom-built bookshelves. The beautifully carved wooden staircase that led up to the loft. “This place is amazing. How did they manage to build something like this, right in the middle of the forest?”

He sat down on the sofa. “There were challenges, that’s for sure.”

She ran her fingers over the handrail. “This is beautiful work.”

“Thanks. At the time the work half killed me.”

“You built this?”

“Why so surprised?”

“Well, because—” she studied the staircase again “—because this is incredible. You have real talent and skill. To be honest I’ve never even thought about people making staircases.”

He smiled. “You’re the type of person who lives in a house without wondering who made it.”

“I don’t have any admiration for the person who built my current place. In fact if I ever met him, I might have to kill him. The boiler gives up every winter, there’s damp in my bedroom. The one good thing about my work is that it keeps me from seeing too much of the inside of my house.”

“You don’t like your work?”

“Yes, but it’s tough sometimes.” She shut him down, the way she always shut people down when there was something she didn’t want to talk about. She’d always handled her problems herself. She was Dr. Kathryn Elizabeth White, and she had life sorted.

At least, she used to. Now she was Dr. Kathryn White, total mess. She was used to being the calm one, the person who took control. Others looked to her to lead.

Right now she wanted to hide, but Jordan looked at her as if he could see everything.

“You don’t strike me as a woman who has a problem dealing with ‘tough.’”

“I guess everyone has their limits.” She wrapped her arms around herself and walked to the window, turning her back on him. She could hold herself together. It was what she did.

She breathed slowly, her breath forming a cloud on the glass. She resisted the temptation to draw a heart. That would be frivolous, and she wasn’t frivolous.

Beyond the window, the snow was falling steadily. There was something about all the pristine white that made the outside world seem distant and unreal. She lived most of her life in a sterile environment. Long corridors. Beeping machines. The pace was always urgent. If there was a word that never appeared in her vocabulary it was slow.

“I love this place. And does that surprise me? Yes, it does a little.” She leaned her head against the window. The glass was cold. “Maybe I’m learning something new about myself.” Lately it was happening a lot. It was like inhabiting the body of a stranger.

“So where do you usually vacation? You strike me as the sort who would choose a city break. Culture. Galleries.”

“I don’t take vacations.”

He frowned. “Never?”

“Hardly ever. I work. If I have the energy to string a sentence together, I see friends or family. If I have a day off I generally spend it sleeping off the previous seven I spent at work. Honestly? I’m not sure I do love my work.” The words left her lips without her permission, as if they’d been trapped inside her for too long. “I can’t believe I said that aloud.”