Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Rescued by the Magic Of Christmas

Rescued by the Magic Of Christmas
Melissa McClone
Coming home for Christmas… Carly Bishop hasn’t celebrated Christmas for six years… But this year handsome Jake Porter is determined she’ll enjoy herself. Jake is a mountain rescuer, big-hearted and courageous, but Carly is too scared of loving him in case she loses him.In a whirl of festive fun, sleigh rides and snowball fights, Christmas starts to weave its magic. But it’s Jake who’s melting Carly’s heart.


With a degree in mechanical engineering from Stanford University, the last thing Melissa McClone ever thought she would be doing was writing romance novels. But analysing engines for a major US airline just couldn’t compete with her ‘happily-ever-afters’. When she isn’t writing, caring for her three young children or doing laundry, Melissa loves to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea, her cats and a good book. She enjoys watching home decorating shows to get ideas for her house—a 1939 cottage that is slowly being renovated. Melissa lives in Lake Oswego, Oregon, with her own real-life hero husband, two daughters, a son, two loveable but oh-so-spoiled indoor cats and a no-longer-stray outdoor kitty that decided to call the garage home. Melissa loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at PO Box 63, Lake Oswego, OR 97034, USA, or contact her via her website: www.melissamcclone.com
Melissa McClone on RESCUED BY THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS:
‘Christmas time is about love and affirminglife. My youngest child was due in January, and I drew upon my own experiencesfor writing Hannah. Like her, Iprepared endless lists, hoping to make theholiday the “best ever” for my toddler andpreschooler while preparing for the new arrival. Unlike me, Hannah didn’t have things go quite as planned, but what better way to celebrate this special season than with the birth of a child?’
Recent titles by the same author:
WIN, LOSE…OR WED!
MARRIAGE FOR BABY
PLAIN JANE’S PRINCE CHARMING

Dear Reader
In December 2006 three climbers went missing on Mount Hood in Oregon. The story captured media attention as rescuers struggled against weather conditions to find them.
Hoping to learn more about their fate, I stumbled across an on-line climbing forum where rescuers were posting about the search and rescue (SAR) operation. Sadly, the climbers perished, but the courage of the men and women on the mountain rescue units inspired and intrigued me. I knew I had to write this book.
One problem. I knew nothing about climbing. My husband climbed before we married, and he wanted to climb again, but I didn’t want him anywhere near Mount Hood’s summit. I decided not to ask him for help. Lucky for me, he wasn’t offended. Through the internet I met climbers—some members of mountain rescue units—who not only helped me with my research, but became friends. The more I learned, the less I had to fear about climbing. I even gave my husband a guided trip up Mount Hood as a gift for our twelfth anniversary. He reached the summit during a climb in May 2007 and loved every minute of it.
My curiosity about climbing grew. Though I’m scared of heights, I took a class at a local rock gym for some hands-on research and discovered I loved climbing! I’ve been climbing ever since.
I’ve written several books, but not one has changed my life the way RESCUED BY THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS did. For those who helped me discover a new passion to pursue, all I can say is thank you and climb on!
Melissa

RESCUED BY THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS
BY
MELISSA McCLONE

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Portland Mountain Rescue (PMR), Central Washington Mountain Rescue (CWMR) and all the dedicated men and women who volunteer their time and talents to mountain rescue units.
Special thanks to Michael Leming, John Frieh, Mark Westman, Paul Soboleski, Lyneen Norton, Iain Morris, Steve Rollins, Keith Langenwalter, Hugh O’Reilly, Debra Ross, cascadeclimbers.com and Virginia Kantra. Any mistakes and/or discrepancies are entirely the author’s fault.

PROLOGUE
JAKE PORTER double-checked the gear in his pack, his motions driven by habit and a sharp sense of purpose. Bivy sack. Avalanche transceiver. Probe. Shovel.
His friends were somewhere up on Mount Hood in the middle of one of the worst weather systems to ever hit the Cascades in December. And Jake was going after them.
Carabiners rattled as he closed the pack. Now came the hard part—waiting.
The other members of the mountain rescue unit sat at cafeteria tables inside the Wy’East day lodge, their faces tight and their voices low as they checked their own gear. Yawning reporters grabbed quick interviews between sips of coffee. Eager photographers snapped pictures of the early-morning mission preparations.
The overhead lights made everything look pale, stark and ominous, matching Jake’s mood. The weather, too.
Outside, visibility sucked. The wind howled at forty miles per hour. The morning temperature hovered around thirteen degrees. The threat of frostbite and the very real avalanche danger made going to a higher elevation a fool’s errand. But in his five years as a member of Oregon Mountain Search and Rescue, Jake had never been more eager to confront the elements for a mission.
He wasn’t the only one. Every single OMSAR member had responded to the alert. More than a few had already heard the news and been waiting for the call. Others hadn’t waited and had come here on their own. All they needed was the go-ahead to start moving out. Up.
Radios crackled as someone asked for additional gear from the rescue cache.
Jake tightened the strap around his shovel, ignoring the knot of concern in his stomach. The whiz of the rough nylon brushing through the buckle intensified his unease. His friends should have made it off the hill with no problem.
Where the hell were they?
Iain Garfield was one of the most talented climbers in the Pacific Northwest. Only twenty-three, he’d already made a name for himself, gaining sponsors and gracing climbing magazine covers with his numerous first ascents of peaks around the world. He could climb the Reid Headwall solo. Backwards. With his eyes closed.
And Nick Bishop. He knew the mountain better than almost anyone in the unit. When they were students together, Nick had once climbed the route overnight and made it to class the next morning for a midterm. After getting married and becoming a dad, he wasn’t such a daredevil now. Nick knew challenging the mountain was always a stupid idea. The mountain never lost. That was why after seeing a nasty weather system moving in, he and Iain had changed their plans from a more challenging route to an easier climb.
Radios sprung to life once again as someone asked for the ETA on a Sno-Cat. About time. Except what Jake really wanted was to see his friends walk through the doors with an epic tale to tell.
He stared at the door. No sign of Nick or Iain. Only two rescue leaders talking in hushed tones.
Damn. A heavy weight pressed down on Jake.
Nick had been his best friend since kindergarten class. They’d grown up together. Learned to climb together. Joined OMSAR together. Done everything together. Well, almost everything.
Jake swallowed around the lump of guilt in his throat. He should have been on the climb with them—a climb to celebrate Iain’s upcoming marriage to Nick’s younger sister, Carly—but Jake had said no. Attending the wedding was enough for him. A climb would have been salt to the wound. Okay, his heart. He thought he’d been following his gut, but maybe the decision not to climb had been selfish. If he’d said yes…
Sean Hughes, one of the rescue leaders who’d been talking by the door, motioned for Jake and two other experienced members, Bill Paulson and Tim Moreno, to come over. “Here’s the plan. Avalanche hazard is high and the weather isn’t the greatest. A Sno-Cat will take us to the top of Palmer. When we get there, SAR base is expecting us to call in a condition report to decide if we’re staying put or if any searching is possible.”
Every one of Jake’s muscles tensed. At the top of the Palmer ski lift was a building where they could warm up, regroup and wait for the conditions to improve. Sitting around wasn’t going to get the job done. They needed to head out in the field.
He zipped his parka. “Nick wouldn’t hang around and wait if one of us was up there.”
“We’re not waiting, either.” Sean lowered his voice so no one could hear him. “We’ll call in a report, then head up and bring them home.”
Jake picked up his pack and swung it onto his shoulders. “Damn straight we will.”
The two others grunted their agreement, even though rescuer safety came first in any mission. But when one of your own went missing, risk level changed.
“Let’s hit it,” Sean said, turning on his headlamp.
Jake followed Sean out of the lodge and into the frigid air. Tim and Bill brought up the rear. The media followed, taking pictures of them, the flashes like lightning, as they trudged their way through the heavy wind and darkness to the Sno-Cat. Freezing mist created a haze on Jake’s goggles. Each breath stung. It had to be hell at the summit. What could have happened up there?
Maybe Nick or Iain had gotten injured. Hurt. Maybe they couldn’t get cell coverage. Or the batteries had died. Maybe they were waiting out the weather in a snow cave. Maybe—
“Jacob.”
The familiar feminine voice wrapped around him like an electric blanket set on high. Soft, warm, perfect. He reminded himself that Carly Bishop’s heart belonged to Iain.
But that didn’t mean Jake couldn’t look and appreciate.
Even with her long, blond hair tucked inside a green ski cap, her cheeks flushed from the freezing temperatures and her eyes red and swollen from crying, she was the best thing he’d seen this morning.
“Carly.” He noticed a photographer watching them. The press would sell their firstborn to get an exclusive interview with the fiancée and sister of the missing climbers. “Get inside. It’s too cold out here.”
She shoved her gloved hands in the pockets of her orange down jacket, which was actually one of Iain’s. Her breath hung on the air. “Colder up on the mountain.”
Where Iain and Nick were. His eyes met hers in unspoken understanding.
Jake blinked against the biting mist, against the sting in his eyes. “We’re heading up to find them.”
She inhaled sharply. “Th-they said the search was on hold until conditions improved.”
“The conditions are good enough for us.”
“Thank you so much.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “You have no idea what this means to our family and me.”
Jake knew. He was closer to the Bishops than his own parents. That was one reason he’d tried to never treat Carly as anything other than his best friend’s kid sister. Well, that, and the age difference. She was twenty-two, four years younger than him. That difference in age meant nothing now, but the gap had been huge when they were teenagers.
Though right now she looked more like a kid than ever. Young and vulnerable. Jake wanted to say something to comfort her, but he hadn’t a clue where to start.
“I know it’s rough up there and what you’re up against. But please, Jacob, do whatever …everything you can.” Carly’s voice cracked. “T-tomorrow is…”
December twenty-fourth. Christmas Eve. Her and Iain’s wedding day.
Jake had the wedding invitation on his fridge and their gift under his Christmas tree. Tears streamed unchecked down her face. His already-aching heart constricted.
“I promise you, Carly.” He wiped the tears off her cheeks with his gloved hand. He didn’t dare allow himself to do more, and his caution had nothing to do with the photographer watching them. “I’ll find Nick and Iain. Today.”
Or Jake wasn’t coming back down.
CHAPTER ONE
AS SNOW FLURRIES fell from the gray sky, Carly Bishop stared at the charming log house surrounded by towering fir trees and decorated with strands of white icicle lights. A lopsided four-foot-tall snowman, complete with carrot nose, stood in the front yard. A single electric candle shone through a wood-paned window, the flickering flame-shaped bulb a welcoming light.
Carly walked along the snow-dusted path, dragging her wheeled suitcase behind her. A few feet from the porch she noticed a green wreath tied with a red velvet bow hanging from a brass holder on the front door. The scent of pine was sharp in the air. The same way it had been…
Her breath caught in her throat.
The house, the wreath, the candle, the snowman. It was as if time had stopped, as if the last six years had simply been a bad dream. Any second, Carly expected Nick to fling open the front door wearing a Santa hat, and greet her with a jolly ho-ho-ho. And Iain…
Iain.
She closed her eyes, fighting an onslaught of unwelcome memories.
I can’t believe you’re going climbing two days before our wedding. Why don’t you just admit it, Iain? You love climbing more than you love me.
She’d wanted to forget. The argument and tears before and as he’d left to climb. The thoughts about his selfish behavior while he’d been climbing and dying. The grief and guilt after his body and Nick’s had been found.
Carly thought she had forgotten. Put the past behind her. Moved on. She forced herself to breathe.
Coming back had been a mistake.
She should have stayed in Philadelphia, where she’d made a new life for herself, far away from the shadow of Mount Hood and all the mountain had stolen from her. If only staying away had been an option, but her brother’s widow, Hannah, was expecting a new baby and needed help with her two children.
So here Carly was. Ready to be an aunt extraordinaire for her niece and nephew. For better or, most likely, worse.
Two weeks. All she had to do was survive the next two weeks, including December twenty-fourth, the twenty-fifth and New Year’s Eve. How hard could that be? Given she hadn’t celebrated the holidays in years, she didn’t want to know the answer.
Carly tightened her grip on the suitcase handle and climbed the steps to the front porch. With a tentative hand, she reached for the doorknob then remembered this was no longer her brother’s house. She pressed the doorbell and waited.
The doorknob jiggled.
Straightening, Carly forced a smile. Years of working with customers had taught her how to put on a happy face no matter how she felt inside.
The door cracked open.
“Welcome back, Carly,” a male voice greeted her warmly.
She expected to see Hannah’s husband of two years, Garrett Willingham, but the man standing in the doorway looked nothing like the clean-cut, non-risk-taking, business-suit-wearing certified public accountant. This guy was too rugged, too fit, too…familiar.
“Jacob Porter.” Over six feet tall with brown hair that fell past his collar, he still had piercing blue eyes, a killer smile and a hot, hard body that had made the girls, herself included, swoon back in high school. But those things had only been made better with age. Her pulse kicked up a notch. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” His grin widened, the same way it had whenever he and Nick teased her about something. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry…” Simply thinking the word left a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Seasons greetings. Where’s Hannah?”
“At a doctor’s appointment,” Jacob explained. “Garrett drove her. She didn’t know if they’d be home before you arrived or the school bus dropped Kendall and Austin off so they asked me to come over.”
Carly noticed Jacob’s clothes—a light blue button-down oxford shirt, khaki pants and brown leather shoes. A bit more stylish than the T-shirts, jeans or shorts and sneakers she remembered him wearing. He must have been at work.
“Thank you.” Though she wasn’t surprised. Jacob had always gone out of his way for them, a surrogate everything to what remained of the Bishop family. He’d found her the job in Philadelphia. He’d taught Nick’s two kids to ski and fish. He’d even introduced Hannah to Garrett.
“Hurry inside before you get too cold.” Jacob reached for Carly’s suitcase. His hand—big, calloused and warm—brushed hers. The accidental contact startled her, and she jerked her hand away. “You city girls aren’t used to the temperatures up here.”
Forget the cold. She wasn’t used to her response to his touch. Carly couldn’t remember the last time a man had had that effect on her. “It gets cold in Philadelphia, too.”
As she stepped into the house, heat surrounded her, cocooning her with the inviting comforts of home. She glanced around, noticing all the nice homey touches. Ones missing from her apartment.
“You look the same,” he said.
He looked better. She glanced around. “So does this place.”
And that somehow made everything…worse.
A fire blazed and crackled in the fireplace. The way it had that horrible, dark Christmas morning when a teary-eyed Hannah had told the kids to unwrap their gifts from Santa.
Carly wanted to close her eyes, to shut off the video of years gone by streaming through her mind, but the fresh evergreen scent, the twinkling multicolored lights and the ornament-laden branches wouldn’t let her.
The popcorn-and-cranberry-strung garland, keepsake decorations marking special occasions, and silver bells and gold balls all reminded Carly of the rush to take the tree down before Nick’s funeral. Hoping to protect the children, Hannah hadn’t wanted the event to be associated with Christmas in any way. Her efforts seemed to have worked, but Carly couldn’t think of one without the other.
The door closed. The sound made her glance back.
Jacob stared at her, an unrecognizable emotion in his eyes.
She remembered the time, during an argument with Iain, she’d turned to Jacob for advice. There’d been a moment when she thought he might kiss her. He’d been looking at her then the same way as now.
Her temperature rose—the combo of forced-air heating and fireplace, no doubt—and she shrugged off her jacket.
“I’ll take that.” He hung her coat on the rack by the door. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You, too.” And she meant that. Funny, but seeing him hadn’t brought back any bad memories. That surprised her. “How are things at the Wy’East Brewing Company?”
“Good.”
Jacob’s family owned and operated a microbrewery and pub in the alpine-inspired touristy Hood Hamlet, a small town set high on Mount Hood, fueled year-round by outdoor enthusiasts. Nick had worked there. Iain and Carly, too.
That seemed like another life. Who was she kidding? It had been another life.
“Hannah told me things are going well in Philadelphia,” Jacob said.
“They are. Didn’t you get my last e-mail?” Carly tried to keep in touch with him. Not daily, but an e-mail or two a month.
“I did. She mentioned you had a boyfriend.”
“Wishful thinking on her part.” It wasn’t as if Carly hadn’t had any boyfriends over the last six years—okay, two—but both relationships had petered out. “I date, but I’m too busy with work for a serious relationship right now.”
“You’ve really moved your way up the ladder, Miss Brewpub Manager extraordinaire.”
“I have, haven’t I?” She loved managing the restaurant portion of Conquest Brewery, but Carly had never wanted to be one of those focused career types working megahours. She’d wanted to be a wife. Iain’s wife. Boy, had she been young, starry-eyed and idealistic back then. “But I still owe you for getting me that waitress job.”
“You don’t owe me anything—” Jacob winked “—but if I need an extra hand at the brewpub over the holidays, I’ll give you a call.”
“Deal.” Jacob might be even better-looking than before, but he was still the same inside. She found that…comforting, as well as the memories now surfacing. A smile tugged on her lips. “Do you remember when we would brainstorm names for your seasonal brews?”
“I remember.” He shook his head. “Especially the time you wanted to name everything after Macbeth.”
Carly grinned. “Hamlet.”
“Whatever.”
She nudged his arm with her elbow. “Hey, some of the names were quite clever, and considering your brewery is located in a hamlet—”
“Yeah, like the guys buying the beer have a clue what a hamlet is.”
“Maybe not the exact definition of a hamlet, I’ll give you that. But the words ‘brewed and bottled in Hood Hamlet’ are printed on every single bottle.”
Jacob raised a brow. “Nothing could justify naming a seasonal ale, and I quote, ‘To Beer or Not to Beer.’”
“That was a great name.” She searched her memory for the others. “Don’t forget Lady Doth Protest Porter, Mind’s Eye Amber, Less than Kind IPA, Soul of Wit Pale Ale. Instant classics. I’m telling you.”
“You can tell me all you want, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever use them.”
She drew her brows together. “Maybe I should give those names to the master brewer where I work.”
“Go for it, but that brewery isn’t located in a hamlet so you might have a hard sell on your hands.”
“Not if he recognizes genius at work.”
“More like plagiarizing at work.”
Carly laughed. Jacob’s teasing filled an empty space inside her she’d forgotten existed. She had friends—good friends—in Philadelphia, but none who had watched her grow up. Who knew the people who’d mattered most in her life. Who knew what she had been like before being thrown the ultimate curve-ball.
“So what brilliant name did you come up with for this year’s seasonal brew?” she asked.
Jacob’s eyes met hers. Softened. “Nick’s Winter Ale.”
The name hung in the air as if a cartoon dialogue bubble surrounded the three words. Carly swallowed around the snowball lump of emotion lodged in her throat. “The beer he came up with right before…?”
Her life had been divided into two parts—before and after the accident. Things had gotten better with the passage of time. She no longer felt the familiar sting each time she thought about Nick. That dreaded prickling sensation hadn’t brought a rush of unexpected tears in…years.
Jacob nodded once. “It’s a good brew. He worked hard on it. Seemed time to use the recipe.”
Nick had been so proud of the beer he’d created. He had been sure the brew would be the next year’s seasonal ale. It probably would have been. “That’s wonderful. Nick would be happy.”
“That’s what Hannah said. Your mom and dad, too.”
Carly’s parents had divorced after Nick’s death. Her father now lived in Oregon. Her mother lived in Scottsdale, Arizona. Both had remarried. “You’ve spoken to them?”
“Yes, they sounded pleased,” he answered. “Each asked for labels and a bottle.”
She wasn’t surprised. Nick had been the golden boy. No one, not Carly, their grandkids or each other, could fill the gap left in her parents’ hearts with his death.
“So do I get any?” Carly asked.
“I have a whole case for you. Labels, too. I’ll drop them off.”
“Thanks.”
“Come on—” Jacob motioned for her to follow “—the kids will be home soon. I need to fix them a snack.”
“Wait a minute. You’re going to fix them a snack?” The top of her head came to his chin. She looked up at him. “You guys always made me heat up the frozen pizzas and fix whatever else you wanted to eat.”
“Good practice for when you’re on your own,” he said.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve been on my own for—” Six years. She swallowed a sigh.
Jacob didn’t appear to notice. “I meant with the kids. They’ll expect you to fix their snack for them. And when Hannah goes into the hospital to have the baby—”
“I can handle it.” Once upon a time, Carly had dreamed of having children of her own. But like her other dreams, that one seemed to have died on the mountain, too. So she made the most of whatever time she could get with her niece and nephew, meeting them wherever they spent their summer vacation. Anywhere except here in the Pacific Northwest. She hadn’t wanted to come back. “Spending time with Kendall and Austin will be great.”
His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and her heart bumped. “We’ll see how you feel in a few days.”
Forget a few days. Carly didn’t like how she felt right now. But that had nothing to do with her niece and nephew and everything to do with the man standing in front of her. Still, she was a survivor, and like everything else, she would get through this. She raised her chin. “It’ll be no problem at all.”
No problem. Yeah, right.
Jake had a big problem. Her name started with C and ended with Y. He grabbed a Granny Smith apple from the fruit bowl and placed it on the wood cutting board.
Maybe if he concentrated on fixing the kids’ snack he could forget how Carly’s turtleneck sweater hugged her breasts and the curve of her waist. How her well-worn jeans cupped her bottom like a second skin. How her blond hair, now shoulder length, would look spread out over a pillowcase or a man’s chest.
His chest.
It was all Jake could do not to stare. Hell, drool. He reached for a knife.
Damn, she looked good. Better than he remembered.
The cold temperatures outside brought a natural color to her cheeks. Thick lashes, ones she’d had since she was little, framed expressive hazel eyes, eyes that no longer held the optimistic promise of tomorrow, but hinted at new depths he hadn’t seen before. And those pink, full lips smiling up at him made him think about kisses. And the one time he should have kissed her, but had hesitated and lost her. Not that he needed kisses now. A taste of those glossed lips, simply a nibble, was all he really wanted, but that wouldn’t be a smart move.
Hell, it would be downright stupid.
As he sliced the apple, the knife hit the cutting board with a thud.
“Be careful.” Carly neatly placed cheese and crackers on a plate. “You don’t want to lose a finger.”
Right now, he was more worried about losing his heart. Dammit.
His heart was off-limits, especially to a woman who was the only person aside from his father to call him Jacob and had left town six years ago never to return until now. Okay, not exactly true. She hadn’t been gone six years. Five years, seven months and twenty-eight days, if he wanted to be exact. Not that he’d been counting.
Granted she’d had her reasons. Good reasons.
But that hadn’t made her leaving any easier. Which reminded him. She wasn’t here to stay. Hannah had said two weeks. Long enough to turn everyone’s life upside-down, including his. He wanted no part of it. No part of her.
Besides, she deserved better than him.
Jake cut another piece of apple.
“The cheese and crackers are ready.” She placed an artfully designed plate on the table. “What next?”
“Hot chocolate.” He handed her the kettle from the top of the stove.
She frowned. “Won’t the water be too hot?”
“If it is, we add ice cubes.”
“You’ve got this kid snack routine down.”
Jake put the apple slices and a small container of caramel sauce on a plate. “I help out when needed.”
She filled the kettle with water. “How often is that?”
Not nearly enough. He set the plate on the table. “Whenever Hannah or Garrett can’t be here.”
“They’re lucky to have you.”
Jake was the lucky one.
A door slammed shut. Thuds of varying volumes echoed through the house. Voices sounded, yelled, screeched.
He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “The bus was early today.”
“So a herd of elk hasn’t just walked into the house?”
“Elk would be quieter.”
With a smile, Carly hurried out of the kitchen. Jake followed her, trying to ignore the sway of her hips. Maybe he needed to go out tonight. Between work and OMSAR activities, he hadn’t been dating much. A woman—make that a woman other than Carly—would get his mind right where it needed to be.
“Aunt Carly!” Seven-year-old Austin ran into her arms before she took three steps into the living room. “You’re here.”
“I told you she was here.” Kendall, nine years old, hugged Carly. “I saw a different car in the driveway.”
Carly held both of the kids tight as if she didn’t want to let go of them. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown since last summer.”
Austin beamed. His blond hair stuck up all over the place. “We’re big now.”
Carly laughed. “So big.”
“Mom asked us to stop growing,” Austin said. “But I told her that was impossible.”
Kendall rolled her eyes. “Mom was kidding.”
“Kidding or not, I understand why she said that.” Carly kissed the tops of the kids’ heads, staring at them with longing and love. “I wish you would stay little forever.”
Watching the three together brought a bittersweet feeling to Jake’s heart. The kids needed Carly. Not only when Hannah delivered the baby or when they went on vacations, but also on a regular basis, where they could share their lives and days with their father’s sister. With their aunt.
Carly stared at Austin. “You look so much like your daddy.”
A perplexed look crossed the young boy’s face. “Which daddy? The dead one or the one who’s alive?”
Kendall’s long sigh could have propelled all the windmills in eastern Oregon. She tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “Our first daddy, right, Aunt Carly?”
“That’s right.” Her voice cracked slightly.
Jake fought the urge to reach out to Carly. He knew that kick to the gut the first time he’d heard the kids call Garrett “daddy” all too well. Jake still wasn’t used to it. He didn’t know if he would ever be, even though he liked the guy enough to introduce him to his best friend’s widow.
“Every time I see you, Austin, you look more and more like him,” Carly continued. “The two of you could be twins.”
“Even if they look the same—” Kendall tilted her chin “—Uncle Jake says I’m the one who’s more like him.”
“It’s true,” Jake said. Austin might look like a mini version of Nick, but Kendall had identical mannerisms and her father’s fearlessness. “You have the exact same personality.”
Which made it harder for Hannah and Garrett.
But easier for Jake.
“I noticed that when we were vacationing in Gettysburg,” Carly said.
Kendall grinned. “You have to see my room, Aunt Carly. It’s purple and blue and green. Uncle Jake bought me this cool, furry beanbag chair.”
Carly glanced his way. “Sounds comfy.”
“I have a space room.” Austin held on to her hand and bounced. “Uncle Jake put glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on the ceiling. He also bought me a spaceship light. It’s the coolest.”
“Sounds like Uncle Jacob’s been busy around here.”
He shrugged.
“You mean Uncle Jake, don’t you?” Kendall asked.
“Um, yes, your Uncle J-Jake,” Carly said, as if testing the name for the first time.
That was the first time he remembered her calling him Jake. He liked how his name sounded coming from her lips.
“I can’t wait to see both your rooms.” She sounded every bit the enthusiastic aunt, much to the kids’ delight. “But first you need to have your snack.”
“Snack!” The kids stampeded into the kitchen.
Carly glanced at Jake. “Forget elk, those two could give buffalos a run for their money.”
“You handled that well.”
She shrugged. “Not much else I can do.”
“No, there’s not, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
Carly looked down at the hardwood floor. “They’re just kids. And life goes on.”
“Hannah does her best to keep Nick’s memory alive. So do I.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. Nick would, too.” Carly noticed a picture of Garrett, Hannah and the two kids sitting on the mantel. “Still, it’s weird. I like Garrett. He’s a great guy who adores Hannah and loves the kids as if they were his own, but he’s so different from Nick.”
“Hannah didn’t want another Nick,” Jake admitted.
Emotion clouded Carly’s eyes. “I don’t blame her for that.”
“Come here.” Jake placed an arm around Carly in a half hug. She leaned against him.
So nice.
Having her in his arms brought back a rush of memories. The time he’d found her shivering and whistling for help when she’d gotten lost snowshoeing at the age of fourteen. As he’d hugged her, trying to warm her up, he’d realized she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Or the time she’d passed her driver’s test and wanted to show off her license. Not to mention her short skirt and skimpy top. She’d given him a quick hug, letting him know she was a young woman, but still off-limits.
This time she was simply Carly Bishop, a beautiful woman. A single woman.
Against his better judgment, Jake brought his other arm around her, embracing her fully. He pulled her closer. Her body pressed against his. Warm, soft, perfect. The scent of grapefruit—her shampoo?—surrounded him.
Oh, man. Standing here with her in his arms was a dream come true. And even though he’d long since buried those dreams, Jake didn’t want to let her go.
He brushed his lips across her forehead, offering what comfort he could.
Someone screeched.
Jake stepped back from Carly to see Austin staring wide-eyed and openmouthed.
Kendall bolted out of the kitchen. “What is going on?”
“Uncle Jake kissed Aunt Carly.” Austin’s grin lit up his face. “Now they have to get married.”
CHAPTER TWO
MARRIED? TO JACOB? NO way.
Carly stared at the kids, jumping and giving each other high fives. She needed to gain control fast or this could set the tone for the next two weeks.
She stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew, the way Nick had taught her. The loud, sharp whistle quieted Kendall and Austin.
Thanks, Nick. Once again her brother had saved her.
Too bad she hadn’t been able to do the same for him.
The kids stared at her.
“Into the kitchen,” she ordered in the same tone Hannah had used last summer in Colorado when a fight over whether to hike or swim erupted. “And sit at the table.”
Even Jacob followed her instructions.
Carly hid a smile as he passed. Suddenly he stopped.
“This is all so sudden,” Jacob murmured in her ear with an outrageous flutter of his eyelashes. Long, dark lashes, she couldn’t help noticing. Ridiculously wasted on a guy. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have brought a ring.”
Heat flooded her face. “Shut up. Sit down.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took his place at the table with the kids. No one said anything.
“That’s better.” Carly followed them into the kitchen. She sat between Kendall and Austin, pushing the snacks toward them. “Why do you think we have to get married?”
“If you kiss someone, you have to marry them.” Austin picked up an apple slice. “Sammy Ross told us at recess.”
“You don’t say.” Jacob spoke with the utmost sincerity. “Sammy must be one of those guys who know everything.”
Nodding, Austin dipped the apple into the caramel sauce. “He’s got five older sisters. Three are in high school.”
“That explains it.” Jacob winked. “Better watch out who I kiss from now on.”
Carly glared. Some help he was turning out to be.
Austin’s eyebrows drew together. “You can only kiss the person you’re going to marry, Uncle Jake. Aunt Carly.”
Uh-oh. She straightened. Damage control was needed right away. “Austin—”
“I know you don’t have to get married if you kiss someone, but wouldn’t it be great if you got married anyway? You wouldn’t have to go back to Philadelphia. And I could be your flower girl.” Kendall’s brown eyes implored her. “Please, oh, please. I’ve always wanted to be a flower girl.”
Carly’s chest tightened. She didn’t want to hurt Kendall, but letting the nine-year-old think a wedding was in the works would be worse. The wedding march ranked right up there with Christmas carols when it came to music Carly didn’t want to hear again. Besides, she didn’t want Jacob to think she was interested in marrying him. It was bad enough Carly thought he was still hot after all these years. “No one is getting married, sweetie.”
Kendall’s face puckered.
Carly squeezed the girl’s small hand. “I’m sorry.”
The apology didn’t keep the tears from welling in the young girl’s eyes. Great, Carly had been with the kids for less than fifteen minutes and already made one of them cry. If this was any indication of how the next two weeks were going to go, she should drive back to Portland International Airport and fly home before she really messed things up.
“Come on, guys,” Jacob said. “You’re getting a new baby brother or sister next week. Your aunt is here for Christmas. That’s plenty to celebrate.”
With a frown, Austin stared at Jake. “But you kissed her. I saw you. You have to get married. Those are the rules.”
“I only kissed your Aunt Carly on her forehead, buddy. That’s what friends do.” He flashed her another one of those teasing, tempting grins. “Good friends.”
Carly caught her breath.
The gesture had been a little too friendly. As Jacob had comforted her in the living room, Carly had felt a security and a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt in years. She’d forgotten everything and hadn’t wanted the moment to end. Thank goodness for Austin’s screech or she might have done something stupid like kiss Jacob herself. Not on the forehead, but on the lips.
What was going on?
She hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in a while. Nor did she want to feel compelled to kiss anyone, especially someone who lived on the other side of the country. Okay, she’d once been curious about his kiss, but she’d been a girl then. Not a grown-up. Best to keep her distance from him while she was here.
“So if you kiss a girl on the forehead you don’t have to marry them, but if you kiss them on the lips, you do?” Austin asked.
Carly bit back a sigh. “Sammy Ross might think you have to marry the person you kiss, but that’s not how it really works.”
“How does it work?” Kendall asked.
Feeling like a preschool teacher suddenly taking on a sex education class full of randy teenagers, Carly looked at Jacob for help. He tipped his chair back, clearly content to wait for her response. The devil.
“Well.” She wasn’t sure how to proceed, but catching a red-eye flight back East sure looked tempting. “First you meet someone you like, then you date, then you fall in love and then, once you know you’ll get along for a long time, you marry.”
Talk about an abbreviated lesson on dating. Maybe she should have told them to ask their mother instead. But Jacob flashed her the thumbs-up sign. She must have done okay to warrant that or he might have simply been trying to make her feel better.
“Where does the kissing come into it?” Kendall asked.
Carly didn’t bother looking at Jacob this time. Hearing a nine-year-old ask about kissing would probably paralyze any single guy. “Kissing can happen at any of those steps, but that’s something you do when you’re older.”
“Much older.” Jacob told Kendall. Funny, he sounded more like a dad than a bachelor.
The girl’s gaze darted between Carly and Jacob. “But you two could still get married. Then I could be a flower girl.”
“We can’t get married,” Carly said. “We’re…friends.”
“Shouldn’t you be friends with the person you marry?” Kendall asked.
The girl was too smart for her own good. Carly needed to be more careful with what she said. “Of course, you should be friends, but Uncle Jake and I are…more like brother and sister.”
Though that wasn’t really true. She’d never seen him as a brother. Growing up, she’d wanted him to be her boyfriend.
“He’s not your brother though. My daddy was your brother.” Two lines formed over Kendall’s nose, the same way they used to on Nick, making Carly’s chest tighten. “But if you married Jake, he’d really be our uncle, not just someone we call uncle, and I could be a flower girl, Aunt Carly. Jessica Henry has gotten to be a flower girl twice. And I’ve never even been asked to be one.”
Carly knew what growing up and comparing yourself to someone else felt like. She needed to tell her niece something, even if it meant facing the part of her past she’d tried hard to forget. “Did you know a long time ago, when you were only three years old, you were going to be a flower girl?”
“I was?”
She nodded.
“Was I going to wear a pretty dress?” Kendall asked.
“Yes,” Carly said. “A very pretty red dress made out of velvet and taffeta with layers of tulle to make the skirt poof out and a wreath of flowers in your hair.”
“You looked like a princess wearing it,” Jacob added.
Remembering, Carly smiled softly. “You sure did.”
“But I never saw any pictures of me dressed like that,” Kendall said.
Jacob started to speak, but Carly stopped him. “The wedding never happened.”
Kendall tilted her chin. “Why?”
Why? That question still haunted Carly. “The boy…the man I was going to marry, his name was Iain, had an accident when he was climbing with your daddy.”
Kendall’s mouth formed a small O. “He died with my daddy on the mountain so you couldn’t get married.”
“Yes.” Carly felt Jacob’s gaze on her, but she didn’t—couldn’t—look his way. She didn’t want to see sympathy or pity in his eyes. She’d had enough of that those first few months to last a lifetime. That was one of the reasons she’d left Hood Hamlet and headed to Philadelphia. She’d wanted to go somewhere—anywhere—where she could make a fresh start.
“Did I know him?” Kendall picked up a cracker. “Iain?”
Carly nodded. “He thought you and Austin were the two coolest kids around and loved you so much.”
“Do you miss him?” Kendall asked.
Carly forced herself to breathe. This was fast turning into the trip home to hell. Not that she blamed anyone, but dredging up the past this way wreaked havoc with her emotions. Ones she’d thought were long under control.
“Yes, sometimes I still miss him.” She inhaled deeply. All she wanted was five more minutes with Iain. Thirty seconds would do. To say goodbye with love, not frustration and anger as had been the case. “But you know what? Iain is still with me. The same way your daddy will always be with you. In your heart.”
“That’s what mommy said,” Austin said. He’d been so quiet Carly had almost forgotten he was there. “But I don’t remember him at all. Not even when I look at his picture.”
“That’s okay, buddy.” Jacob mussed the boy’s blond hair. “You were only a year old.”
“That’s right. You were just a little guy back then.” Carly put her arm around Austin’s chair. “But I can tell you lots of stories about your dad if you want. You can remember him that way.”
Austin smiled. “Uncle Jake and Mommy tell me stories, but I want to hear yours.”
“And you will.” Carly cleared her throat. “I know some really good ones.”
“I remember him. Our daddy.” Kendall got a faraway look in her eyes. “Well, his voice. He used to sing to me.”
Carly felt a tug on her heart. She could almost hear Nick’s voice drifting down from the nursery upstairs. “Your daddy sang to you all the time. You loved the song ‘My Favorite Things’ from The Sound of Music.”
“If he stopped singing that song, you would cry,” Jacob said.
Austin laughed. “Crybaby, crybaby.”
“Be quiet.” Kendall frowned. “You’re the one who’s a big crybaby.”
Austin folded his arms over his chest and pouted.
“That’s enough, guys,” Jacob said.
Austin returned to his snacks, but not Kendall.
“You know, Uncle Jake,” she said. “If you started dating Aunt Carly tonight, you could probably get married before she has to go back home, and I could be a flower girl before I went back to school after winter break.”
“Uh-huh. Listen, kiddo—” Jacob stopped, obviously unsure how to proceed. He rubbed his chin.
“You go after what you want, don’t you, Kendall?” Carly asked.
The girl nodded.
“Your dad did the same thing.” Nick never used to give up when he set his mind on something. That’s how he’d ended up with Hannah. Carly smiled at the similarity between her brother and his daughter. “Tell you what. If I get married, you can be the flower girl and Austin can be the ring bearer.”
“Promise?” The girl’s hopes and dreams filled the one-word question.
“Your aunt said if, not when,” Jacob clarified. If being the key point, and Carly was grateful for him pointing it out.
“But if you do, Aunt Carly…”
Even Austin leaned toward her in anticipation of her response.
She smiled. “I promise.”
Married? To Carly? Too funny.
Jake could barely contain his laughter when the kids had brought that up, but the way she’d sent dagger-worthy glares his way kept him quiet.
Poor Carly. Those kids had pushed every one of her buttons. Some twice. With a shake of his head, he carried Carly’s suitcase upstairs.
She followed behind him. “I’d forgotten all about the wall of infamy.”
He glanced back and saw Carly staring at the photographs. “You mean wall of family.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the pictures. “I call it as I see it.”
“Me, too.”
Eight years ago, he had dreamed about being a real part of the Bishop family, of having his photo up on that wall. A wedding photo. He’d wanted to be Nick’s brother-in-law, Carly’s husband. And then, while Jake was taking his time waiting for her to grow up, Iain had taken his shot at happiness. The daring young climber had almost blown it though, and given Jake another chance, but when all was said and done, Carly stuck with Iain after he apologized for putting a climb before her birthday.
At the time, Jake told himself everything worked out for the best. But it hadn’t.
Not for Iain, killed right before his wedding.
Not for Carly, widowed before she was a bride.
Not for Nick, dead before his time.
And not for Jake, either.
He continued up the stairs.
But what had happened or how he had felt about Carly was in the past. All that remained was for him to make sure she was happy and living life the way she should. Once he knew that, then he, too, could move on.
“Hannah will run out of wall space someday.” He glanced back and saw Carly still staring at the pictures. “Or photos.”
“Wall space perhaps,” she said. “But thanks to digital photography, Hannah will never run out of pictures.”
“True, she carries her camera everywhere.” He listened to the kids in the kitchen doing homework. “Hope that wasn’t too much for you downstairs.”
“Well, it’s not every day you get into a head-on collision with your past.”
“Good thing you had an air bag to soften the blow.”
“What air bag?” Carly asked.
“Me.”
“Oh, yes, that thumbs-up was a huge help.”
“You were doing great on your own.” He respected the way she handled the situation. “I just provided a little cushion.”
Her mouth twisted on one side. “How can Mr. Hard Body be a cushion?”
He grinned, remembering the teasing from years gone by. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You would.”
Jake laughed. “Still the pesky little sister shadowing her big brother, aren’t you?”
“Being here brings it all back.” The amusement had disappeared from her voice. “But that’s not such a bad thing. Living so far away, it’s easy to forget.”
He entered the guest room and placed the suitcase on the bed. “Everyone’s missed you.”
“I’ve missed them.”
Jake had missed her, too. But he saw a new maturity in her, a difference from the girl she’d once been. That hadn’t come across in her e-mails. He liked the changes.
“The promise you made to the kids,” he reminded. “They will hold you to it.”
“I expect them to.”
“So you plan to marry someday.”
She shrugged. “I’ve learned you can’t really plan on something like that. But if I met someone and fell in love…well, maybe I’d want to marry him.”
Not the answer Jake was looking for. “You don’t sound like the girl who started reading bridal magazines when she was sixteen.”
“I haven’t met anyone I’ve wanted to marry….”
Except Iain.
Though Jake wondered how marriage to an adventurous, full-time climber would have been for Carly. Still, the fact she hadn’t seemed to have gotten over Iain’s death made Jake feel guilty. Okay, guiltier.
“But you could.” He wouldn’t be happy until she moved on with her life the way Hannah had. Carly deserved a happy ending, too. Jake would somehow make sure she found one. He owed her that much.
“I could.” Carly didn’t sound that confident as she opened her suitcase.
Jake didn’t blame her. He hadn’t known what to make of Iain the first time he’d met him. The kid’s confidence bordered on cockiness, but Jake had soon learned the talented climber had a heart of gold. He couldn’t help but like and respect Iain. Envy him, too. For his fearlessness. For his climbing talent. For being the recipient of Carly’s love and adoration.
At least until finding Iain’s bloody, bruised and broken body covered in snow. The image had given Jake nightmares for years. He blinked, hoping to erase the picture in his mind. “You really should.”
Another shrug. “Do we need to check on the kids?”
He listened to the sound of voices drifting upward. “Nope. I hear them.”
“I thought it was good when kids were quiet.”
“Noise is good,” Jake said. “Quiet means start worrying, but I can hear them. We’ll help them with their homework later.”
“What about you?” Carly asked.
“My homework days are long past.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” She picked up a black camisole from her suitcase and threw it at him. The same way she’d tossed a dishrag or a sweatshirt at him years ago.
He caught it as he always had. “Nice throw.”
But the action felt too intimate to Jake in a way it never felt before. This was the kind of top a man peeled off a woman.
Pink tinged her cheeks. “Sorry, habit.”
“It’s okay.” Jake handed her the top rather than tossing it back to her. “What did you want to know?”
“Have you given marriage much thought?” she asked.
He was hoping she wouldn’t go there, but maybe after coming home to face her demons—and the devil kids downstairs—she deserved the truth. It wasn’t as if the information would change anything between them. “I was engaged, but other than that…”
Her gaze met his. “Nobody told me. You never told me.”
He shrugged. “It was four…no, five years ago.”
“So what happened?”
His jaw tensed. “I don’t want to talk about it. I barely remember it.”
He’d wanted to forget. While Hannah and Carly had been holding themselves together, he’d been falling apart.
“Come on. Tell me,” she urged. “Did you kiss her and then have to get married?”
If only it had been that simple.
“Not exactly.” Jake wasn’t proud of what he’d become or done back then. “I was partying too much, met a woman who was nice but totally wrong for me and asked her to marry me. Luckily I realized getting married wasn’t the thing to do at that time in my life so I broke it off.”
And got his out-of-control life back together.
“Do you ever think about settling down now?” Carly asked.
“No. I see no good reason to change the status quo.”
She grinned. “That’s what I say, too.”
Jake found her words hard to believe, even harder to take. Her joy and excitement over her upcoming wedding to Iain seemed a hundred and eighty degrees away from where she was coming from now, and that hurt. She was meant to be a bride.
Someone else’s bride, Jake reminded himself.
He didn’t deserve her.
If he’d been on the mountain six years ago with Iain and Nick, everything would have been…different. Better. Okay. And it was up to Jake to make things right.
For Hannah, Kendall, Austin and…
Carly.
CHAPTER THREE
PATRONS PACKED the bar and dining area of the Wy’East Brewing Company. Carly hadn’t seen so many familiar faces since…
She felt a pang in her heart.
Since Nick’s and Iain’s funerals.
With a sigh, Carly glanced around the lodge-style building. Jacob’s place. She could see the care he’d taken with it, the improvements he’d made to the interior and the menu offerings since taking over after his father retired.
The aromas of beer and grease mingling and wafting in the air reminded her of the brewpub she managed back home. The conversations of customers drowned out the music being piped in through speakers. At least Christmas carols weren’t playing.
Too bad everything else was decked out for the holiday.
A swag decorated with miniature lights, pine cones and holly berries hung around the bar. Wreaths dangled from the vaulted log-beamed ceiling. A twinkling Christmas tree sat in the corner next to a small stage with neatly wrapped packages underneath.
Talk about being dropped in the middle of a nightmare before Christmas…. She shifted in her seat. Since arriving in Portland earlier today, she’d been forced to confront the worst moments of her life over and over again.
“Your adoring crowd awaits,” a glowing and very pregnant Hannah teased.
Carly forced a smile. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of this table, but she couldn’t hide behind her sister-in-law’s family for the next two weeks. Hannah was obviously excited. And Carly wanted her sister-in-law to be happy.
Fortified by a serving of shepherd’s pie and a salad topped with raspberry vinaigrette, she stood. Working her way through the jam-packed restaurant, she received hugs while having the same conversation over and over again.
Yes, she lived in Philadelphia now.
No, she wasn’t married yet.
Yes, it had been a long time.
She missed Iain, too.
Carly could hardly breathe as she spoke. Facing her demons was one thing, but this…She plodded through the way she had six years ago at her brother’s funeral and then at Iain’s, gritting her teeth and smiling. This time, however, the answers got easier to say the fifth time around. They became automatic by the tenth. Progress? Carly hoped so.
She looked around the room once more. She’d expected to see Jacob at some point this evening. This was his brewing company. His pub. Where was he on such a crowded Wednesday night? She brushed aside a twinge of disappointment.
It wasn’t easy to do. If Jacob were here, he would make this not such an ordeal. He would make her feel normal, the way he had at the house, and comfortable.
After what seemed like hours but was really only one, Carly reached the spot where she’d begun. The dinner plates had been cleared from the knotty pine table. A pitcher of beer had joined the kids’ and Hannah’s pitcher of root beer. A slice of half-eaten mud pie and five spoons sat between Hannah and Garrett.
They were sharing. Happy.
There was no reason for Carly to be here.
And no one for her to be with.
She swallowed the pint-size lump in her throat and sat opposite them. “Hey, you lovebirds. Where are the kids?”
“With Jake,” Hannah said.
So he was here after all. “I didn’t notice him.”
“He’s been here the entire time.”
And he hadn’t come over to say hello? At least, not until she left the table.
Ouch.
Carly rested her elbows on the table and supported her chin with her hands. Making the rounds down memory lane had drained her mentally and physically. The last thing she needed to worry about was Jacob Porter.
“Sorry that took so long,” she said. “I can’t believe all the people I know who are here tonight. Most of the local OMSAR members, too.”
“Word’s out you’re back in town.” Garrett looked at Hannah. “Though I can’t imagine who would have told them already.”
“I may have mentioned it to a few people,” said a sheepish Hannah.
“That’s a good one, my beautiful wife.” Garrett laughed. “Since your definition of a few ranges from two to two hundred.”
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said.
Carly bit back a sigh. She didn’t want Hannah to feel bad. Besides, if Carly got all the hard stuff over with her first day in town, she could breeze through the rest of the trip. “Don’t apologize. Now I won’t have to search people out since I saw them all here tonight.”
Hannah tucked her shiny, long, auburn hair behind her ears. “That’s the spirit.”
“She’s being a good sport, my dear.” With a smile, Garrett poured a pint from the pitcher containing a deep, amber-colored beer. He slid the glass in front of Carly. “Here. You earned this.”
“Thanks.” She appreciated Garrett’s thoughtfulness, as well as the way he honored Hannah’s past, making sure Nick’s memory stayed alive with the kids and accepting Carly as a part of their family. “I really need this.”
“Yes, you do.” Hannah’s green eyes danced. “It’s Nick’s Winter Ale.”
Carly should have known. A jumble of emotions ran through, but the biggest one—pride—made her raise her glass. “To Nick.”
“Hear, hear.” Garrett joined in the toast. “To the brewmaster extraordinaire.”
“And Iain,” Hannah added.
Carly took a sip. She wanted to remain impartial, to judge the beer on its own merits, to…
Delicious. Refreshing. Absolutely perfect.
The velvety smooth ale struck a perfect balance between the malt and hops. Full-bodied with a hint of cinnamon. She had never tasted something so yummy. Of course, Carly wouldn’t have expected any less from her big brother.
“Extraordinaire is right.” Her smile couldn’t begin to match the joy in her heart at Nick’s accomplishment. “An awarding-winning winter ale if I ever tasted one.”
Two hands rested on her shoulders. Large hands. Male hands.
Jacob.
No need to turn around and see he was the one standing behind her. She’d recognize the warmth of his touch and his familiar scent anywhere, even in a crammed brewpub with all the noise, sights and smells competing for attention.
He gave a gentle squeeze, but didn’t move his hands away.
The gesture, no doubt meant to be platonic, sent unexpected tingles shooting out from the point of contact. Carly gulped. She hadn’t experienced tingles in…years.
No big deal.
“From your lips to the judges’ scores,” Jacob said.
She glanced up at him. “It’s delicious.”
His gaze met hers. “I’m happy you like it.”
“My new favorite.”
“Mine, too. Especially if it keeps that big smile on your face.”
The way he stared at her, as if she were the only woman in the room, made Carly’s insides clench. Her temperature shot up. She looked away.
“Thanks for putting the beer into production.” She watched a bead of moisture run down her glass. “It means…a lot.”
“I know.”
Carly got the feeling he knew a little too much. She took another swig of her beer, but the liquid did nothing to cool her off or help her relax.
So what if he still had his hands on her shoulders?
No big deal.
He might still be a total hottie, but she wasn’t a schoolgirl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. No reason to freak out.
Jacob removed his hands. Thank goodness. Carly blew out a puff of air.
As he sat on the bench next to her, his thigh brushed hers. More tingles and a burst of heat erupted where he’d touched her. She scooted away. “Where are the kids?”
“In my office playing cards,” he said. “They finished their ice cream sundaes and were still hungry so I gave them cookies.”
Hannah tsked. “You spoil them, Jake.”
“I indulge them,” he countered. “A big difference.”
His easy grin made him look younger and so carefree. Compared to him, Carly felt old and troubled.
Sure, she was home for the first time in years surrounded by family and old friends. Laughter and cheers filled the air, a good time being had by all the smiling faces. But something was missing.
Not something, Carly realized.
Nick and Iain.
She looked across the table at Hannah, resting her head on Garrett’s shoulder. How did she handle this? Not just evenings like this, but every night, every day, raising Nick’s kids in his house, in his hometown where memories lay waiting around every corner.
Somehow Hannah had found the hope and the courage to love again. And had made her peace with the past.
Not Carly.
She had barely made it through dinner tonight.
She stared at her bare hands. There hadn’t been an engagement ring on her finger for years—never a wedding band like Hannah had worn. And yet…
Carly glanced sideways at Jacob, her cheeks warming. She almost felt guilty for being so aware of the man sitting next to her. It seemed strange to be feeling this way, for reacting to his nearness and his touch. This was where Iain had tended bar and she waited tables. Where they would have celebrated their rehearsal dinner had he made it down the mountain.
But he hadn’t made it down. And she hadn’t died up there with him even though it had felt like that at the time.
Losing him and Nick had hurt so bad.
She had wanted only to forget, but perhaps it was time to follow Hannah’s example and remember.
Instead of avoiding the past, Carly could try to embrace it. Maybe then she could finally put the pieces of her heart back together and learn to love…again.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/melissa-mcclone/rescued-by-the-magic-of-christmas-42435490/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.