Mr. Doubleday’s house is just down the road, and I pull up only a couple minutes after leaving the store. The air is brisk and cold, with something in the air that could mean a storm. We’ll see how bad it gets.

I grab the bundles of firewood out of the bed of my truck and haul them up to the porch one by one. I’m almost done when the door opens. “Thought I heard you out here,” the older man says. “Thank you so much for bringing it all the way out here. I’m much obliged.”

“Mr. Doubleday, you’re paying me for the delivery. You don’t have to be obliged.” I chuckle. He says that he is every time though. Just another small town routine like my treats with Darlene and Jemma.

“I’ll get that money to you as soon as the social security check comes in. You know how it is.”

I nod. “I know you’re good for it.” Heading back to the truck, I grab another bundle of wood—more than I’m meant to deliver. The little house Mr. Doubleday lives in isn’t the sturdiest thing I’ve ever seen. It holds, but it could use a little love. I’ve done what I can without pushing the limits of what he considers charity. But if there is a storm coming in soon, he might need more wood.

“This isn’t the best wood,” I tell him. “It’ll burn fast, and there’s a storm coming in. Everyone is talking about it. So I’m giving you an extra bundle—no charge, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

He makes a face at me. “Fine. I did hear about that cold snap coming in. Heard that there might be some sleet. Always makes the house a little colder.”

I stack the wood where he’ll have easy access to it. “You want me to bring this inside so that it doesn’t get wet with the storm?”

He considers for a moment. “If you won’t mind, I think that would be good.” I stop him before he can reach for one of the bundles himself, and he scowls at me. “I’m old, Casey, I’m not an invalid.”

I just grin as I push through the door. “Never said you were, Mr. Doubleday.”

“Say,” he calls after me, “you live over by the Farrell Farm, right?”

“Sure do,” I say, glad that I’m facing away from him so that I can roll my eyes.

“Well you’ll never guess who’s back in town.”

Taking a deep breath, I head back outside for the rest of the wood, listening to Mr. Doubleday start the gossip train all over again.3CarleyI wake to the sound of running footsteps. Lots of screaming about the fact that it snowed, it’s time for sledding, and the slamming of doors, drawers, and suitcases as all the kids in the house race to see who can get ready to go outside the fastest.

I remember when I was that age and all I wanted to do was get outside and play in the insane amounts of snow that freak Tennessee storms dump on us. But right now all I want to do is go back to sleep.

Not that that would be easy. My neck is already stiff from sleeping on this bed. The thin and lumpy twin mattress is a hand-me-down that my mother seemed determined never to get rid of. I’m not sure why. It is her not subtle punishment for the way I spoke to her at the airport and the fact that I ignored her for the rest of the car ride home.

Normally this would be the kids’ room. A rite of passage that every child and visiting family member has to go through. But since Mom is mad at me, and I’ decided to show up to Christmas alone, the kids are staying in the nice guest room next to my sister Jessica and her husband Rhett. After all, why should one person have a giant bed all to herself when there are two people who need it? That, and the kids ‘could be closer to their parents in case they need something.

As if the room I am in isn’t just ten feet further down the hallway.

No, this is my mother’s revenge. Pure and simple revenge for not doing what she thinks I should do: sucking it up and staying with a cheater, no matter what that costs me personally.

Dragging myself up off the bed, I sigh, rolling my neck to try to get out the kinks. I’m sure that I’ll get used to it after a couple days, but man, it’s uncomfortable. I pull up the shade and look outside. Sure enough, it did snow. But it’s a Tennessee snow. It’ll probably melt by tonight and refreeze into ice by morning. Which is why the kids were rushing to get to it while it’s still fun to play in.

Tags: Penny Wylder Romance
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