Snowbound

strong cheekbones, dark bristles on jaw and cheeks, a

fan of lines beside watchful brown eyes, and a mouth

he kept compressed. The scar, puckered and angry.

Maybe, she thought, his mouth was tight against pain

and not from impatience or irritation.

But there had been that moment when she’d have

sworn his gaze had lowered briefly to her mouth. The

muscles in his jaw had knotted, and something had

flickered in his eyes.

Had he kissed a woman since he’d been hurt?

How silly. He probably had a girlfriend, or even a

wife who happened to be away right now. She doubted

he had looked at her with desire—even momentarily.

He was being as polite as he was able, and she would

have to do her very best to be sure they weren’t any

more trouble than they had to be. It was absurd for her

to wish that the unsmiling lodgekeeper would look at

her with just a little more warmth.

Still, she held on to the image of his face until exhaustion overcame her.

FIONA AWAKENED to the sound of a squeal, then hushed

giggles. Huh? She opened her eyes and stared at a

strange, pitched ceiling. For a moment she felt completely blank. Then it came back to her.

Snowstorm, hellish drive, the lurch as the van

dropped off the road, the tramp through knee-deep snow

in the dark.

She had slept… She turned her head and found an

old-fashioned clock on the nightstand. Twelve hours?

Was it possible?

Galvanized, she jackknifed to a sitting position. Her

students! And here she’d gone to sleep vowing to keep

them out of their host’s hair.

No slippers, but she’d left her borrowed wool socks

on. Fiona paused to peer in the mirror and shuddered.

She’d scare the kids.

No choice. She needed the bathroom, and now.

Raucous laughter came from one of the girls’ rooms

followed by someone shushing.

“Hey,” she said, flapping a hand as she went by.

“The bathtub is so-o amazing,” Tabitha called after

her. “Mr. Fallon said it was okay to use as much hot

water as we wanted.”

The idea of sinking into a deep tub of hot water was

irresistible. On the other hand, putting on dirty clothes

when she got out was less appealing.

Water splashed the floor in the bathroom and toothbrushes, hairbrushes and makeup were scattered over the counter. Dirty clothes were heaped in a corner. Fiona

gazed at the pile wide-eyed. Had John Fallon come up

with more clothes…?

Then she spotted the neat pile of folded laundry on

the slatted shelving unit beside the towels. As if in a

dream, she investigated. There were her jeans and yesterday’s socks, neatly rolled. He’d washed and dried their clothes last night.

“I’m going to marry him,” she said out loud.

If he had a clean shirt she could borrow, she could

leave off her panties and handwash them. She could

have that bath.

Realizing she hadn’t looked outside yet, she went

to the window. Beyond the eaves, snow still fell and

the world beyond was completely white. What if they

had slid into a ditch last night, instead of making it

safely here?

She shivered and turned quickly back to the bathroom.

Fiona brushed her tangled hair and went out, stopping

once again in the door to the girls’ bedroom. This time she

saw that Hopper sat on the floor with his legs outstretched

and Amy, Tabitha and Kelli lounged on the beds.

“Where’s everyone else?”

Kelli shrugged. “Still asleep, I guess.”

“I see it’s still snowing.”

“It’s really pretty outside.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Uh-huh. There’s a toaster, and this really great bread,

and muffins, and when he saw we were up, Mr. Fallon

scrambled some eggs. And then he gave us the laundry.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw he’d washed our

clothes. It’s like…”

“The shoemaker and the elves.” Tabitha nodded.

“The bread tasted like it was right out of the oven. Do

you think he slept at all?”

“I don’t know.” Fiona scrutinized them. “He loaned

you some more clothes.”

“They are so too big.” Amy gazed down at herself

with comical dismay. Actually the flannel shirt she wore