Hidden Gifts_A Castle Mountain Lodge Romance

by Elena Aitken

  “Ella,” Bo called from the kitchen. “Are you ready to go?”

  She appeared in the hallway and ran towards him. The transformation that had taken place in only a few days was remarkable. Ella still didn’t say a whole lot, at least not to him, and there was still so much he wanted to know about her. He made a mental note to ask Morgan whether Ella had opened up to her about anything.

  Grabbing an extra pair of socks for his pack, Bo said, “We should get going—we don’t want to be late.” Ella nodded in agreement, and together they left their suite and headed down the path towards the main lodge.

  Still early, the air hadn’t had a chance to warm up yet. Bo zipped his jacket and glanced down at Ella to make sure she was warm enough. She only had a thin jacket, which she wore over the only sweater she had. It wasn’t much, and it definitely wasn’t suitable for the mountains. He’d have to get her some clothes if she were going to stay with him.

  And there it was. The indecision he still felt about his own child pulled at him. He couldn’t keep her. It was ludicrous to even think he could. But there was nowhere else for her to go. Except for the uncle. Maybe if Bo could reach him, and explain the situation, he might consider taking her in. Surely that was a better living situation for a little girl?

  The thought twisted his gut, but Bo ignored it. He kicked at the ground. “Hey,” he said to Ella, “let’s hurry so we don’t get cold. Wanna race?”

  Her eyes lit up with the challenge and she sprinted forward. Bo stifled a laugh. She was competitive, just like her mother used to be. He had a flash of memory: Tessa beating him at a game of pool. The same glint in her eyes then that he’d just seen in Ella. That was how they’d met. In a bar, where she’d hustled him and he’d taken her home. Hardly a romantic story, but it never was where he was concerned, and Tessa hadn’t been any different. Except she had, he thought. Tessa had been different because she had Ella.

  A sharp cry interrupted Bo’s memory and brought the present, and Ella, sharply into focus.

  Ella was lying on the dirt path, clutching her knee to her chest. Bo sprinted to her and dropped to the dirt. “Where does it hurt? Are you okay?”

  Ella didn’t answer, but pointed to the hole in her pants, and the stain of blood that was starting to seep through her jeans.

  His stomach flipped at the sight and his head pounded. He’d seen lots of injuries—heck, he was trained in field first aid. Bo’s hand fluttered over her little body, not landing in any one place. He couldn’t remember his training. What if it were broken? Maybe he shouldn’t move her. Was it a cut? “Come on,” Bo finally said. He scooped her up and stood. Feeling her shiver in his arms, he pulled her closer and headed for the Lodge.

  ~ ~

  Bo burst through the doors of the Cub’s Club and rushed through the room to the pile of pillows at the base of the climbing tree. He placed Ella carefully on a large pillow and propped up her head with another one.

  “Morgan,” he called. His eyes searched the room, frantic. “I need your help.” Bo turned his attention back to his daughter, who was no longer crying, but staring at him with wide eyes instead. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Does it still hurt?” he asked her.

  Ella nodded.

  “Morgan!” Where was that woman? Ella was bleeding and she was nowhere to be found. What kind of child-care center were they running? He glanced around the room again and caught sight of Morgan as she appeared from the office. “Where have you been?” he barked at her.

  When she saw Ella lying on the pillow, Morgan dashed towards them. Bo didn’t miss the glare she shot him as she sank to her knees next to the little girl.

  “What happened, sweetie?” she spoke softly to Ella and dabbed at the new tears that had reappeared on Ella’s cheek with a tissue that she miraculously produced. She didn’t wait for an answer, but continued to talk in a soothing voice. “It looks like you have a little owie. Did you scrape your knee?” Ella nodded. “Well, it doesn’t look terrible,” Morgan continued, “but why don’t we take a look.”

  “I don’t know,” Bo interrupted. “Maybe we should get a doctor. Or someone qualified in first aid.”

  “Aren’t you qualified in first aid?” she shot at him and it looked a little as if she were smiling at him. “Bo,” she spoke slowly. “You need to calm down. It’s just a scrape.”

  Was she serious? For a moment, he wanted to yell at her, to demand they call a doctor. But he took a deep breath and looked back at Ella and her bloody knee. No, of course it wasn’t really serious.

  “Are you okay?” Morgan asked him.

  Bo nodded but his stomach churned and he felt as if he might throw up. The room spun and he reached out to grab something, anything that would stabilize him. He grabbed Morgan’s shoulder.

  “Maybe you should be the one lying down,” she said. He caught the touch of humor in her voice.

  “I’m fine,” he managed to choke out.

  She gave him a look. The type of look that meant, yeah right, but thankfully she didn’t say any more. Instead, she went back to tending Ella’s cut. She rolled up her jeans and with expert hands, she washed the wound, which he had to admit, was little more than a scrape. She gently removed the dirt from the skin and applied a salve of some kind before pasting on a bandage

  “There,” Morgan said, “good as new.” She pulled Ella’s pant leg back into place. “But it looks like you’ll need some new pants.”

  She pointed to the hole and Bo nodded.

  “And, Bo,” Morgan was still talking, “these shoes are totally inappropriate for the mountains. And if I’m saying that, it’s really bad.”

  She was right. Ella needed new pants and new shoes, and some toys, he thought, looking at the ever-present clay deer clutched in her hand.

  “You’re right,” he said. “She needs a lot of things.” Things I can’t give her, is what he wanted to say, but didn’t.

  Morgan looked at him for a beat, her eyes questioning him. She turned back to Ella, who was staring up at both of them. “All better, kiddo?”

  Ella nodded.

  “I thought so,” Morgan said. “Why don’t you go and pick out a game that we can do later? There’s some new kids coming today and I thought it might be a good way to get to know everyone.”

  Eager to please, Ella jumped up, and without favoring her sore knee at all, went in search of the puzzles and games.

  When she was out of earshot, Morgan turned to him. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “What?”

  She tipped her head at him and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb,” she said. “I don’t have time. But I have never seen a grown man react to a little cut like that. Especially one that’s trained in advanced first aid. You do realize that kids get hurt, right?”

  “Of course I know that.” Bo crossed his arms. He did know that, but what he couldn’t tell her was that when he’d seen Ella hurt, it’d just about killed him. He’d had no idea what to do. He felt helpless. But he couldn’t tell Morgan that. “And I didn’t freak out.”

  “Whatever you say. But you should probably make sure you have a first aid kit close by. Kids do have a tendency to need a lot of bandages. Even quiet little girls.”

  “Maybe I should,” he admitted. Along with a lot of other things, he thought. “I’ll put it on the list,” Bo muttered under his breath.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing.” He cleared his throat and relaxed his posture. “I was just thinking of some things I need to do.”

  Morgan tided up the leftover supplies and stood. She was standing close, but he didn’t move. And she smelled good. His gut tightened in response. Was it cherries? No, something else. Less fruity. But nice.

  “Are you okay, Bo?”

  The question caught him off guard, and he took a step back. He knew it was a bad idea to act on whatever feeling it was that he was having for Morgan. Especially as he was pretty sure that she thought he was a total jerk.
He was aware of the fact that he’d been a total ass to Morgan when they first met and he couldn’t figure out why. Probably because she didn’t fall all over herself like every other woman at the Lodge. In fact, if it weren’t for Ella, Morgan wouldn’t have anything to do with Bo at all. It bothered him. And it intrigued him. But he still couldn’t figure out what it was about her that put him on guard.

  Before he could answer, Morgan added, “I mean, are you okay with Ella? It must be overwhelming, and I just wanted to you to know, that—“

  “I don’t need your help,” he snapped. He regretted his words as soon as he spoke them; she was just trying to be nice. But it was too late. The softness in her face was gone, replaced by the hard expression she normally reserved for him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Don’t be.” Morgan turned away. “Obviously you have it all under control.”

  He wanted to say something else. For a moment, Bo even wanted to spill his guts and tell her that he most certainly did not have it under control. That he didn’t know the first thing about a little girl, or how not to freak out when she tripped, or what she should be wearing, or even where to get her more clothes. He wanted to tell Morgan that he’d panicked and called Clara Kersey at Social Services again and maybe, just maybe, she could find a better situation for Ella, something more stable and better suited for a child. He opened his mouth to tell her everything but before he could, he felt a tug on his pant leg.

  Ella peered up at him. Her brown eyes peeked out from under her long bangs. She needed a haircut on top of everything too.

  “Ella,” he asked, crouching so he could hear her if she spoke. “What is it?”

  “Can Morgan come for dinner?” It was the longest string of words Ella had ever said to him, and she’d asked the question so quietly, that for a moment Bo hoped he had misheard her.

  “I’m sure Morgan already has plans tonight. We wouldn’t want to—“

  “I’d love to.”

  Bo stood and stared at her. Morgan smiled innocently before turning and walking away.

  He opened and shut his mouth and then looked down at Ella, who he could have sworn gave him a conspiratorial smile.

  Chapter Eight

  Even as she changed her clothes, Morgan still couldn’t figure out what had possessed her to accept Bo’s invitation. If you could even call it that. It was more like Bo trying to convince Ella that she wouldn’t want to go, which was probably the only reason Morgan had accepted. She wasn’t normally so antagonistic towards people, but there was something about Bo that brought out a challenge in her.

  It didn’t matter, anyway; she’d accepted and even if she wanted to, Morgan would never cancel, so she might as well make the best of it. She looked in the mirror and applied another coat of mascara. Besides, she wasn’t interested in Bo. Was she? Maybe if she kept telling herself that, eventually she’d believe it. If things were different, if she were different, she would definitely be interested in him. Very interested.

  She tossed the mascara tube into her makeup bag and picked up the lip gloss before putting it back. “No,” she said to her reflection. “I will not make an effort.”

  “An effort for what?” Astrid popped her head into the bathroom and eyed Morgan’s reflection in the mirror. “Where are you going all dressed up?”

  “I’m not dressed up.” Morgan smoothed her hands down her dress.

  “Really? So you’re just wearing a dress around here then?” Astrid leaned back against the doorframe and smirked at her. “Not that I don’t appreciate it.”

  “Stop it.” Morgan pushed past her friend and went out to their small living room. The scent of incense burning on the coffee table tickled her nose. “I’m going for dinner.”

  “With?” Astrid asked, following her down the hall.

  “Ella asked me.” Morgan grabbed her purse and busied herself by digging through the contents.

  “Whoa.” Astrid didn’t even try to hide her shock. “So you’re having dinner with Bo?”

  “I assume he’ll be there,” Morgan said. She pulled a plain lip balm from her purse. “Ella’s only four. I can’t imagine that she can cook.”

  “So how exactly aren’t you making an effort?“

  “I’m not putting on lip gloss, if you must know.”

  “Wow.” Astrid laughed. “You’re right, putting on lip balm instead of lip gloss will really show Bo that you’re not interested.”

  Morgan frowned at her. “I’m not interested,” she said. Even to her own ears the words weren’t convincing. “He’s been nothing but a jerk to me since I’ve met him.”

  “He’s still hot.”

  “I’m not into rude men. I’m not into any men,” she said. “I told you before that I didn’t come here to meet anyone.”

  Astrid moved in front of her, so Morgan couldn’t look away. She held her hands up in a triangle. “Your aura is definitely giving off some strong vibes,” she said. “But I still don’t get you,” she said. Her voice was soft and her eyes were searching for something that Morgan wasn’t going to give up. “Half the men here are into you,” Astrid continued, “but you don’t even notice and then Bo asks you for dinner and you treat it like you’re headed to a jail sentence. Well, except for the dress,” she added with a wink. “And the heels.”

  For a second, Morgan considered telling her friend the truth. But when she couldn’t even sort out her feelings in her own head, it probably wasn’t a good idea to go around telling others about them. Instead, she tossed a throw pillow at her. “Whatever,” Morgan said, trying to keep her voice light. “I just thought the dress would be nice, but it’s not a date or anything. It’s for Ella. She wanted me to come, and I couldn’t say no to her.”

  “She is pretty sweet,” Astrid agreed. She put the pillow back on the couch and went to the fridge, grabbing herself a beer. “And she seems pretty attached to you. But I thought you didn’t like kids.”

  Morgan’s stomach knotted with the familiar ache. “I’m going to be late,” she said.

  Before Morgan could reach for the door handle, Astrid’s voice stopped her. “Hey,” she said. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but whatever you’re running from…” Morgan froze but didn’t turn around. “Well, sometimes those are the things we should be running towards.”

  Morgan felt the prick of tears threatening in her eyes, but still she couldn’t turn around. She slung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said and, with a wave in Astrid’s direction, she left, closing the door behind her.

  She’d become pretty good at pushing her feelings aside. Or at least she thought she had. But the truth was, spending her days surrounded by kids at the Cub’s Club wasn’t nearly as hard as she’d thought it would be. Because Astrid was right—Ella was attached to her. But what Astrid didn’t realize was that Morgan was becoming just as attached.

  ~ ~

  It didn’t take long to find something for Ella to wear. In fact, as far as Morgan was concerned, it didn’t take nearly long enough. The child didn’t have much to wear, and what she did have was mostly dirty. Surely Bo must know that she needed more clothing? A little girl should have a closet full of dresses and pretty tops to choose from. Morgan adjusted Ella’s sweater to hide the stains on her t-shirt, and after locating a comb, started picking through the tangles on her head.

  While she worked, Morgan chattered on about some of the other children that were scheduled to join the Cub’s Club in the coming days. “Maybe we can go on a nature hike,” she said. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

  Ella nodded.

  Truthfully, the idea of a hike was more intimidating than appealing to Morgan. She hadn’t had a chance to get out and explore the trails at all. And even if she had, she likely would have gotten lost. The closest she’d ever been to a trail was a path through a city park. Morgan made a mental note to ask Bo about some appropriate paths. There must be something close to the Lodge that would give the children the idea of bein
g out in the wilderness without really venturing too far.

  “Maybe your dad can help?” Morgan voiced the question aloud.

  Ella still didn’t say anything, but she never did when it came to Bo.

  With most of the knots picked out, Morgan smoothed Ella’s blond locks with her hand. “How would you feel about a braid?” she asked.

  Instead of answering her, Ella tipped her head down. Morgan waited for a beat and then, as gently as she could, asked, “Do you want a braid, Ella? You have to tell me. It’s okay to use your words, you know?”

  Morgan moved around her so she was kneeling in front of Ella. She reached out and tipped up Ella’s chin so she was looking at her. Silent tears spilled from the little girl’s eyes and the familiar clench in Morgan’s stomach tightened but she ignored it, focusing instead on Ella. With her thumb, she softly wiped Ella’s tears from her cheek. “It’s okay to cry, kiddo,” Morgan said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Ella shook her head and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

  “Okay,” Morgan said. “Do you want me to stop doing your hair?”

  Almost as fast as it went in, Ella’s thumb popped out of her mouth. “No.”

  Morgan smiled and moved behind her again. She moved the comb easily through Ella’s hair. “Your mommy used to do this, didn’t she?”

  Ella made a sound that was a cross between a sob and a choke. But she nodded.

  “And I bet you really liked it when your mommy did your hair,” Morgan continued, “didn’t you?”

  Ella nodded again. A tear fell on her jeans, making a small wet spot. Morgan’s heart broke a little bit, but she trusted in her training, and kept going.

  “When your mommy did your hair, what was your favorite style?”

  It took a few seconds, but Morgan was patient. She kept methodically stroking Ella’s hair, using the comb to lift and separate the strands.