Snowbound

He thought he could come up with a few pairs of

quilted pants and more parkas and gloves. “The lost and

found is full of gloves. And hats.”

No surprise; those were the small items easy to

misplace. She could lose a glove at home or in her car.

When she was done eating, she insisted on carrying

her own dirty dishes to the sink and then he showed her

the laundry room. “I’ll get a load running,” she said with

a nod. “And I’ll organize the kids to wash dishes. You

shouldn’t have to wait on us.”

He opened his mouth and closed it.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Just…you don’t look like a

schoolmarm. But you have it down pat.”

“I’ve been teaching for five years now.”

“You don’t look old enough.”

Two personal observations in a row. Were either

compliments?

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“So you started teaching right out of college.”

Fiona nodded. “I’ve been working on my master’s

degree at Portland State for several years. Summer

quarter and sometimes an evening class.”

“Better salary?”

She sighed. “Of course. But also, I’m learning. I

used to think I wouldn’t be interested in administration,

but maybe someday.”

This was when the conversation was supposed to

become reciprocal. Yeah, I thought about minoring in

education but…

Even though he didn’t say anything in response, he

didn’t seem in any hurry to leave the small laundry

room. In fact, she was suddenly aware of how close he

was to her, and of how alone they were even though she

could hear the kids’ voices coming from the kitchen.

Not that she wasn’t aware of him every time she saw

him, but now she found herself noticing the deep chocolate shade of his eyes, the fact that he’d apparently nicked himself shaving that morning—and how fresh

and puckered that scar was.

When her gaze touched on the scar, something flared

in his eyes and he took a step back.

Before he could speak, Fiona said hurriedly, “What

about you? Before…Iraq. Were you career military?”

For a moment he didn’t answer, and she thought he

wouldn’t. Then, with obvious reluctance, he said, “No.

National Guard. Before, I was an engineer.”

“Really?” Oh, no; had she sounded surprised?

Please God he hadn’t noticed. “What kind? Did you

design bridges?”

“I was a mechanical engineer. Mainly robotics to

increase workplace safety.”

“From that to innkeeper.” She’d meant the words to

be light, but she could tell he didn’t take them that way.

A muscle spasmed in his jaw. “That’s right. Now, if

you’ll excuse me?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He walked away, his limp

pronounced.

Why had her asking about his past distressed him?

Had he had some kind of breakdown when he got back

from Iraq? Like the Vietnam vets who’d gone to live in

the woods? Was the only difference that he’d been able

to afford to buy this place?

The kids were all in the kitchen, Willow as usual

looking shy and apart from the group, Erin equally apart

but serenely so. John was nowhere to be seen. Fiona

carried a basket upstairs and collected dirty clothes.

Going back through the kitchen, she said, “Boys,

you get KP duty this morning. When everyone’s done

eating, it’s your job to wash the dishes.”

Inevitably Hopper grumbled, “Why us?”

“Because we’re all going to take turns.” She surveyed

the table. “Tabitha, Erin and I are going to make lunch.

Willow, Kelli and Amy will do the lunch dishes. Dinner

we’ll discuss when it gets closer.”

Smiling, she left them groaning and whining. Some

of them had looked shocked enough, she had to wonder

if they were required to do chores at home. That was

the thing with a ritzy private school—the kids came

from a whole different world than the one in which

she’d grown up. They were more sophisticated in many

ways than the teenagers with whom she’d gone to