Feeling his mind resetting back to its normal state, he yawned while continuing to cling to the steer wheel, and wrestled to keep his SUV’s tires in the ruts gouging the snow. In a little more than seven hours, he’d have to rise, wake the two munchkins, make their breakfast, and if the school bus didn’t make it up the Green Mountain knoll, he’d have to plow them out before driving the girls to school. Which, meant he’d better set his alarm an hour early, just in case. Six months ago, he could’ve lived on as little as four hours of sleep a night for weeks on end, but somewhere over the past few months he had grown older, and boy, he cherished a stretch of eight hours of sleep.
The girls, plus taking care of two homes and working several jobs was beginning to wear him out. Most nights he crawled into bed shortly after tucking them in and sawed wood in under ten minutes, but tonight, he had a feeling that was not going to happen. As tired as he was, he just knew once he was alone in his room, with nothing but darkness for company, Darcy with her friendly smile, sexy southern accent and a body made for exploration was going to visit him and keep him tossing for hours.
Maybe if he concentrated hard on the image of the girl on the slope tonight, the one who had tried to give him her room key, he could keep Darcy’s image at bay. He bit his lip, trying to conjure up the girl’s face, but no go. Somehow that prospect held no appeal.
The lane opened up to the ten-acre clearing and the house came into view.
“What the hell,” he said, sliding to a stop aside the two-story home. Every light in the house, except for the bedroom he was using, were on. Why weren’t the girls in bed? Had something happen?
Dylan jammed his truck into park, jumped from the vehicle and rounded the front fender before the engine wound down. Was that Katy crying?
His pulse shot into overdrive. It was Katy. She sounded in pain.
He clambered up the front porch stairs two at a time, juggling his key ring in search of the key to unlock the front door. The motion sensor detected his presence and the lights, anchoring the door on either side, clicked on. Willa, his sitter, always kept the house locked down after he left, which was a good thing, except when he wanted in now.
What would he tell his brother and sister-in-law if either of their little girls had been hurt?
Why had he stopped for a drink, instead of coming right home?
He was such an idiot for feeling sorry for himself because he had chosen to give up a year of freedom. He made the decision. He had said yes. He could’ve easily had said no and the girls would’ve been sent to stay with one set of grandparents or the other, or both, and then he’d have his freedom. To do what? Nothing important.
With trembling fingers, he unlocked the door and rushed into to the living room where Katy’s bellowing echoed off the plastered walls. “What’s wrong?”
Willa sat on the sofa, cradling Katy on her lap.
There was no blood or bruises or cartoon bandages covering up boo boos, as Katy referred to them. The only abnormalities were the little girl’s sandy blonde curls were totally askew and puffy and pink bags underlined her shimmering blue eyes.
“She had a nightmare.” Willa continued to rock back and forth, soothing Katy with a whispered shhh.
He placed a hand over his heart as it sunk back into place and sighed. “A nightmare. That’s all? I thought she was cut or fell or—”
“She had a bad dream about Mom and Dad,” Jillian cut him off, peeking around the side of the wingback chair. “She said they weren’t coming home.” Jillian’s dark lashes cut off the reflection of sadness on her younger sister’s face. She wiped a finger under her nose before disappearing from his view again.
His stomach twisted into a knot the size of a basketball and his brain screamed, Idiot! After spending so much time in the girl’s company, he should be able to see sorrow in their faces and know something was seriously wrong. Fuckin Idiot!
“Of course they’re coming home,” he said, punching his words with positivity.
“I told them that, several times, but they don’t believe me,” Willa replied. The teenager looked a little uneasy herself, which probably didn’t help to reaffirm her words as the truth. She had to accentuate her words with attitude like he did.
Although, neither one of the girls appeared to be cheered by his words either.
Dylan smoothed his hand across Jillian’s long, silky hair, tugged it slightly, as he always did, and winked down at her. She held Buzzy, the dwarf rabbit, on her lap. The pet’s nose twitched constantly, probably waiting for the opportune moment to escape from the girl’s arms and hop to its favorite spot, behind the sofa. “Did you try to call me?”
“No. She just woke up maybe ten minutes ago. I thought I could calm her down and have them back in bed before you got home. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Here—let me take her.” He circled the coffee table and lifted his youngest niece from the sitter’s arms. The five-year-old weighed less than a pillow case filled with feathers, even though she ate like a lumberjack.
Katy wound her flannel-covered arms around his neck and snuggled close to him. The scent of soap and bubblegum mingled with the fresh night air still radiating from his coat. Willa had made sure the girls were bathed, had brushed their teeth, and had gargled with the kid’s flavored mouth rinse, advertised to prevent cavities.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Do you want me to drive you home?” He closed his eyes and kissed Katy’s forehead, wishing he could erase whatever dreadful nightmare had upset her.
“No. That’s okay. My dad called a few minutes before Katy woke up.” She stood and smoothed back the little girl’s hair, smiling as the soft curls bounced back into place. “He said the town roads are pretty clear. I just need to take my time, use my head and I’ll be fine.”
“The driveway is a little sloppy. Are you sure? I can get the girls dressed and drive you.”
“No. Really.” She slipped into her coat that had been lying over the sofa’s back and tugged on her rainbow-colored scarf, gloves and beanie. “I’ll be good. I’m going to call dad and let him know I’m on my way while my car warms up. Thanks for the offer though.”
“Call me when you get home, will you? If I don’t hear from you, I’ll come looking for you. And if you do get stuck, stay put, and call both your dad and me.”
“Sure thing. Thanks.” Wearing a brighter smile, Willa pinched Katy’s cheek and then Jillian’s before heading out the door.
Katy sniffled into his neck.
Willa was probably happy to be away from the situation he now had to address.
Dylan lowered himself onto the settee next to Jillian and repositioned Katy on his lap. He’d read in one child psychology book that talking out a bad experience was a good thing. He didn’t see how reliving something bad was good, but who was he to argue with the experts? “Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?”
“No.” Katy sniffled again and cuddled closer to his chest, pulling her knees to her body and bare feet under nightgown. “I don’t want to think about it. It was very, very bad.”
“Uncle Dylan,” Jillian said softly, without looking up at him. “Can we call Mom and Dad?”
Jillian’s fingers disappeared in her rabbit’s fur.
Katy had shared her dream with her sister.
They were not scheduled for a Skype call with Elizabeth until Wednesday night and Bob hadn’t been reachable for a month, which had him worried. The only comfort was that Elizabeth had had contact with his brother, just last week.
Dylan pulled back his coat sleeve, making a big deal at looking at his watch. It was afternoon where Elizabeth was, but the girls thought they were on the same time schedule. That way they didn’t feel like there was a great distance between them. “I don’t think your mom is up right now. It’s really late,” he lied. The army wouldn’t accept a five-year-old’s nightmare as an emergency. “I tell you what. Why don’t I put your story-time tape in and you can listen to your mom read to you.”
&
nbsp; “Yes.”
“It’s not the same,” Jillian said, over the top of Katy’s answer.
“True, but you can see your mom longer.” He wrapped his arm around his older niece. “Her calls are limited to five minutes. The tape is an hour long. She made them for you.” He winked, hoping she’d get the signal that she was the big sister who needed to be strong for her little sister. “For Katy.”
“Can Mom read the elf story?” Katy’s hand turned his face to him. “You’re getting whiskers like Santa.”
Her soft fingers tickled his cheek. “Yes. Gray ones too.” He turned to Jillian. “How about it?”
A second passed before Jillian let go of Buzzy and the rabbit dashed off her lap. “Mom read that last time. How about Frosty?”
“Yeah. I like Frosty.” Katy scrambled up on her knees and Dylan whimpered, lifting her off his lap and shooting to his feet. “What?” She looked at him oddly.
He drew in a breath, thinking of what he could say besides, “Because you just crushed my nut with your knee, you don’t have to worry about having cousins any longer.” The little girl wouldn’t understand.
“You hit him where it hurts,” Jillian stood up, pulling her nightgown around her legs.
“Oh.” Katy trapped his face between her palms. “I’m sorry I hit your gonads.”
Dylan sputtered. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“School. We learn a lot in school,” she responded, wearing an innocent mask.
“Well, what do you say we keep … I mean let’s not talk…”
“He doesn’t want you to say gonads again,” Jillian offered, looking up at him.
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Okay,” Katy chirped and then wiggled out of his arms. “Let’s go see mom.”
The youngest Kincaid had a head start out of the room, but her older sister rounded her at the bottom of the stairs and took the lead while their uncle chuckled and shook his head.
An hour and half later, after Willa called and said she made it home safely, Dylan yawned and crept up the stairs toward the second floor landing, trying to pick the sweet spots that didn’t creak so he wouldn’t wake the girls. The grandfather’s clock in the living room below chimed its jump to the three-quarter hour. One a.m. approached.
He pushed open the door to the girls’ room. The hall light spilled across their beds. Their angelic faces always managed to erase any worries he had, but tonight he wondered if he would ever be himself again. He loved the girls to pieces, but he missed him. He missed sleeping in his own bed. He missed enjoying the quiet of the early morning and using the time to sit in front of easel and capture on canvas the woodland bathed in perfect light. There was a lot he missed and yet the girls gave him so much more.
A picture sitting on the highboy dresser next to the door caught his eye. He picked up the framed photo and brought it further into the light. Bob stared back at him, wearing the expression of a man who had the world in his arms, and he did. Jillian and Katy each straddled a leg, Bob’s hands around their waists. And at his brother’s back, was Elizabeth. Her arms circled Bob’s neck and apparently she had just plastered her red lips against Bob’s cheek.
They were a happy family.
The photo had been taken last Christmas. A huge tree stood in the background and the stair railing was decorated with pine and twinkling lights and red ribbons. This Christmas was going to be so different for all of them.
Jillian and Katy were great kids.
Tomorrow he’d get his ass in gear and start the preparations for a perfect Christmas.
Chapter Four
Somehow, the very moment Dylan Kincaid walked into Whoseher’s General Store, Darcy became aware of him. It was like she suddenly developed this sixth sense. The weird thing was the sixth sense only seemed to let her know when the handsome maple-tree farmer was within a hundred feet of her. It was that sixth sense that caused her to veer into a side aisle where she hid from sight, watching, taking all of him in.
She eased back between the shelves laden with flannel shirts and long john themo-underwear. There was something about the man that intrigued the hell out of her and maybe if she studied him for a minute she’d figure it out and be able to limit her reactions to them. Be in control.
The elderly Mr. Whoseher’s, who had greeted her as soon as she’d entered the establishment and sent the little bell attached to the door to tinkle, also greeted Dylan a cheery, “Good morning”. He hustled around the overstocked counter and made room for the large wooden crate Dylan carried.
By the rigidity of his shoulders and upper arms, Darcy could tell the box held some weight.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Jake. I had to plow out Doris Zippel this morning in addition to Lois Rehrson and Mr. Scherer.” Dylan ripped off his gloves before whipping off his tan beanie and smoothing his hair into place. She sort of liked the windswept look on him. “They all had to get to the church this morning early.”
“Not a problem. Mabel isn’t making maple candy until tomorrow.” The man’s New England drawl accentuated the ‘morrow’.
Darcy smiled. Everyone she’d met so far thought she had the cutest accent, when it was their enunciations that were totally delightful.
Dylan scanned the store and Darcy ducked backed out of sight. Had he sensed he was being watched?
“She had to drive up to Bear Creek today to check on her mother,” the older man continued, pulling Dylan’s attention back to him. “Power was out in the area overnight. I guess there were some strong winds in the storm that passed through. Probably took out a transformer somewhere. God knows there are some old buggers out there.” Jake lifted a gallon jar filled with dark golden syrup. “I understand Doris and the others are quilting a special Christmas gift for the Pastor Hank and his Dotty.”
Dylan gave a low whistle. “Nice gift.”
“I’d say. Those ladies do fine work.”
Darcy smiled at the local gossip exchange, and bent down ever so slightly so she’d have a better view of Dylan. From his shoulders to his ankles, he was protected from the chilly temperatures outside by heavy insulated coveralls, like the ones hanging on the rod behind her. The outfit added significant bulk to his lean, muscular frame. Yes, she had checked out his body the night before. The boots he wore added an easy two inches to his height of about five eleven.
“She ordered six gallons, but I brought eight just in case—”
Chuckling, Whoseher laid a hand on his belly. “You know my wife. She always runs close. I’ll take them all. You want me to pay you, or have Mabel send you a check?”
“Actually,” Dylan said, looking around again. “I need to pick up a few things, so why don’t you just give me a credit slip to my account.”
“I can do that.” Dylan turned and Whoseher stopped him. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but I was wondering—your brother Bob always brought the straw for the nativity scene and since he’s not here, can I count on you to bring us maybe ten bales?”
“Sure. When do you need them?”
“Thursday night or Friday morning. We’re setting up Thursday night though and it sure would be nice to have them there. That way it’s done. We start our live hours Friday night.”
“I work at the ski lodge on Thursday night. If I get a chance, I’ll drop them off before, and if not, I promise first thing Friday morning.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
Looking like the holiday stress monkey climbed on his back erasing his Vermont cool demeanor, Dylan stalked down the aisle in her direction. Darcy ducked behind a pyramid of boxes containing fleece-lined slippers. Shit. She was hiding in the men’s department of the store. What excuse could she use for being there? Tom. She could say she was buying something for Tom for Christmas. Maybe pull Dylan into a conversation by asking his option.
The sound of Dylan’s boots slapping the floor came and went, and she eased out of her hiding spot, catching a glimpse of him as he rounded a corner.
/> The store was a maze. According to the painted signage outside on the porch peak, the both building and business were established in the eighteen forties. The rooms, obviously, had been added on by previous owners as the general store’s business had grown. One room led to another and another and eventually the patrons would find their way back to this section. She could easily leave before Dylan made his way back here to the front.
Darcy stopped in mid-step. She was acting like a fool. He was Tom’s friend. She was Tom’s friend. She really liked his paintings and it would be nice if she told him. Right?
Right. She was just going to be neighborly. Nothing more.
With new-found determination, she grabbed a pack of long underwear off the shelf and headed to the back of the store, and stopped. This section of the store contained toys. Toys for his girls.
From the little Tom told her last night, Dylan had his hands full watching over his nieces and working. Maybe she should—
Before she had another thought, Tom came around the aisle and spotted her. A smile bloomed on his face and then quickly reversed into a thin line. Hesitation labored his stride as he walked toward her. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
“Hi, yourself. I thought it was you I saw come in.” Nice save Darcy, in case he had seen her hiding among the wares. “I was searching the men’s section, looking for a Christmas gift for Tom. I wanted to give him a gift to open on Christmas morning.”
“You’re staying for Christmas?”
“Yeah. Tom convinced me to stay for a while. Until the holidays are over, not much is going to happen back home, with the fire cleanup. The delay is an opportunity to give Tom and me a chance to catch up. I’m thinking positively.”
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