Snowbound

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