here…” She trailed off, then sighed. “You’re right. We
should have never set off without being prepared. I
knew we had chains, and I’ve driven in snow, so I got
complacent. But my dad kept down sleeping bags in the
trunk whenever we traveled during the winter.”
“Smart man.”
“You saved our lives.”
“No. It sounds like Dieter did.”
Her face softened. “He did. He’s an amazing boy.
Really brilliant. I mean, they’re all smart, but not like
him. And he’s so…together. Mature and, I don’t know,
comfortable with himself. Which, let me tell you, is rare
in sixteen-year-olds.”
The boys he’d known in Iraq were younger in years, if
older in experience. Living in a war zone did that to kids.
He jerked his head toward the kitchen. “They all that
age?”
“Willow is fifteen. She’s our only sophomore. And
Troy and Erin are seniors, so they’re seventeen. The rest
are juniors.”
John nodded.
“It’s nice of you to take charge. I really am tired.”
“Go. They’ll be fine.”
“I know. You’re right.”
Still she didn’t move, and he thought how easy it
would be to step forward, wrap a hand around the back
of her head and kiss her.
Something on his face may have given away the
tenor of his thoughts, because her color rose and she
groped backward with one foot for the next step.
“I don’t know what I’m just standing here for. Tiredness, I guess. Um, good night.”
He dipped his head. “Good night.”
John stayed at the foot of the stairs watching until she
disappeared above with the basket of toiletries. He
should have offered her a nightgown; he had a few of
those in the lost and found, too. All were sturdy flannel.
He didn’t know if any newlyweds had ever honeymooned at Thunder Mountain Lodge, but if so the brides had remembered to take home their lacy negligees.
John frowned, trying to remember whether the kids
had called her Miss. Or was it Ms.? Young as she
looked, she could be married. No, he decided; if she
was, she would have called her husband tonight, not the
principal. And she’d asked him to phone parents. She
hadn’t said anything about him calling a husband.
Heading back to the kitchen, he was irritated to
realize that he felt relieved.
FIONA HAD NEVER been more grateful to be able to brush
her teeth. As she did so, she thought about their host.
He’d been remarkably kind so far, but he’d looked so
grim all the while!
She wondered what had happened to give him the
limp and the scar that ran from his jaw down his neck
and beneath the collar of his shirt. It looked…not brand-
new, but not as if he’d lived with it for years, either.
Several times she’d seen a spasm of pain on his face,
too, so the injury to his leg obviously still troubled him.
Well, she could hardly ask, and hoped the kids would
be tactful enough not to. Or, more realistically, she
should hope that they were too self-centered to care
about John Fallon’s history.
Fiona brushed her hair with her own brush from her
purse, then gazed at herself in the mirror. What had he
seen when he looked at her? A couple of times she’d
imagined… But that was silly. He probably thought she
was an idiot who hadn’t showed any more sense than
the teenagers would have.
She sighed. Sad as it was to admit, he was right. It
terrified her still to think what might have happened if
Dieter hadn’t spotted those tire tracks. The fact that
they were safe and warm tonight was a miracle.
In the bedroom, she hesitated over what to wear—
or not wear, finally leaving on the pants he’d lent her
and her turtleneck. Just in case she had to get up for
some reason during the night.
The bed felt wonderful, the fluffy duvet heavenly atop
her. Tension drained out of her, and Fiona closed her eyes.
The moment she did, white swirled beneath her lids,
as if the sight had been imprinted on them. She
squeezed her eyes tighter shut and fought to picture
something or someone else.
What she came up with was John Fallon’s face as
they’d stood at the foot of the stairs. Lean, tanned, with