Snowbound

was already open.

But he wouldn’t be coming through it. That’s what

hurt so badly.

She hadn’t cried over him in a long time, and she

didn’t tonight, but she did go to bed feeling sad and extraordinarily bleak.

JOHN HAD BEEN taken aback when his sister leaped at his

invitation, confirmed that he had empty rooms the very

next weekend and showed up midafternoon that Friday.

Their older sister looked more like their mother. Both

John and Liz took after their father, with dark hair and

brown eyes. Liz possessed an innate sense of style,

although he knew well that it was careless; she rarely

expended much time or thought on what she wore, and

yet she never went out the door looking less than chic.

Unlike Fiona, she’d brought only a small bag. John

knew his sister well enough to guess that she was

unlikely to step outside until she left to go home. Like

a pampered house cat, Liz hated being cold or wet, and

her idea of enjoying nature was admiring autumn colors

from the comfort of her snazzy Nissan 350Z. She

always had a cute, sporty car, usually leased so she

could move on to a new one every couple of years.

He grinned at the sight of her picking her way

gingerly across the wet grass in high-heeled, completely

inappropriate boots. Waiting at the top of the steps,

shoulder propped against the post, he said, “You know

I live out in the woods.”

She lifted her head and her face lit. “The very reason

I’ve never visited. I’m terrified to find out what your

bathroom facilities are like. Please tell me I don’t have

to take a cold shower outside while yanking some string.”

“Nope.” He grinned again. “There’s no shower at

the lodge.”

“What?” His sister stopped dead.

“The bathtubs are nice.”

Grumbling under her breath, she climbed the steps

and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I’ve arrived.”

“So I see.” Arm around her shoulders, he raised his

brows. “And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Liz never bothered to be less than blunt. “I’m

worried about you. What else?”

“You missed me?”

“Well, of course I missed you! The fact that you

never visit is why I’m worried. Surely you occasionally

hanker for a really fine dinner, or a movie, or a trip to

Powell’s?”

He winced. He did love Powell’s, Portland’s famous

bookstore in which used and new books mingled in a

maze of rooms on multiple floors that covered a city block.

“So what’s up?” she challenged.

“Can we talk later?” he asked.

“As long as we do it.” She marched past him, then

waited pointedly until he opened the heavy front door

for her.

John showed her to Fiona’s room. He still hadn’t put

guests in here, mainly because the lodge hadn’t been

completely full at any time since Christmas. Just yesterday he’d made up the bed. Liz nodded her approval, 244

checked out the bathroom and said, “Okay, now that’s

a tub,” then asked what she could do to help with dinner.

High-heeled boots and all, she chopped and sautéed

and with aplomb served the two couples who were currently guests. She helped clean the kitchen after dinner, too. When they were done, she said, “Coffee.”

He poured two cups.

“Sit,” she ordered.

Crap. He sat.

“This is a nice place. It’s pretty.” Her tone said, For

those who like such things. “Last February, when you

bought the lodge, it seemed like a plan. Maybe even a

good investment. But now you’ve been here over a year.

It’s been almost a year since you visited Mom and Dad.”

“I love them, but I can’t talk to them.”

“A lot of people can’t talk to their parents. They still

show up for obligatory holiday visits. You know.

Thanksgiving? Christmas?”

“Those are my busiest times of the year.”

Momentarily diverted, she said, “Did you celebrate at all? ”

“I cooked a turkey at Thanksgiving. And all the trimmings. At Christmas…” What to say about Christmas?

I exchanged gifts in bed with the woman I love?