Silent Night, Star-Lit Night (Second Chance at Star Inn)(7)

It should be, he decided, but as Uncle Pete’s foul moods increased, the joy of their busy retail business had waned. “I may have forgotten how to do fun along the way.”

“I hear you.” Her eyes shadowed. She sighed softly, but then her hand went to her rounded middle. “She’s stretching to remind me that a whole new brand of fun is on the way.”

“New life. Rebirth. New chances. All good things.” He waited until she was safely in her room on the second floor, then raised his phone. “If anything happens, call me, okay? I’m right down the hall.”

“I will. And Jed?”

He turned back, waiting.

She hesitated, then shrugged one shoulder. “Thank you for coming down. It’s been a lot nicer traveling up the coast with you than it would have been on my own. I really do appreciate it.”

He grinned. “What a difference twelve hours can make, ma’am.”

She acknowledged her morning objections with a little smile.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

“You, too.”





Chapter Four

December 19, Klamath Falls, Oregon

She did sleep well.

She hadn’t slept well in weeks, months, maybe, but when she woke up at five-thirty the next morning she felt rested for the first time in a long time. She got up, showered quickly, and joined him downstairs at six o’clock sharp.

Concern darkened his features, but he erased the look when he saw her heading his way. “Good morning.”

“Hey.” She glanced from him to the wall-mounted wide-screen television showing PNW weather. “The forecast has you worried.”

He winced slightly. “Let’s go with ‘concerned.’ The storm seems to have slowed and intensified, so now it’s bigger and gathering speed.”

“Then let’s go.” She put a hand on his arm, glad for the steadiness of this man. “We can grab food on the way and eat in the car.”

The Jamaican cook flipped an omelette just then, then did the same with two thick slices of cinnamon French toast.

Jed moved toward one of the empty tables. “I don’t go back on my promises. I do believe I promised you—both of you—breakfast here.” He pulled out a chair and dropped his gaze to the seat.

“But—”

“I’ve driven through snow before. I’ll drive through it again. If necessary, we’ll find a place to hang out until it passes. Maybe God’s way of telling me to slow down. Take a breath.”

“God and your mother combined, perhaps.”

He laughed, unoffended. “They’re a team. And always on my side, so that’s good. Omelette and French toast? Or there’s a huge array of things on the breakfast bar.”

She’d been thinking about this breakfast since she rolled out of bed. Some days she had no appetite at all. Others she was ravenous. Ravenous won today. “Both, absolutely. I’ll order and go see about checking out.”

“All taken care of.”

“Jed, I can pay my way.”

He nodded, unperturbed. “Know that. But you could use a lesson in how to just smile and say thank you when folks do something nice for you.”

She started to argue.

He raised one thick brow in her direction, and his expression hinted “smug” because he knew she’d argue.

So she didn’t.

Instead she leaned forward, put her hand on his arm, and gently kissed his whiskered cheek. “Thank you, my friend.”

“’Tweren’t nothin’, ma’am.” He smiled when he said it old-style, a cowboy, doing his good deed for the day. “My pleasure.”

Calm washed over her.

She’d been so busy for the last twelve years, pushing through high school, nailing her grades under rough-at-home circumstances, earning a scholarship, then multiple degrees at the university.

And then marrying Daniel after a whirlwind courtship.

She thought she’d arrived at the happily ever after she’d longed for, so when she found out she wasn’t even close she covered it up.

But here, relaxing with the kind of person who didn’t cheat, lie, or steal, didn’t just feel good; it felt marvelous, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

The burden would descend again when they got back to Roslyn. Grandpa’s prognosis, her father’s indifference, and recurring family drama would try to suck her in.

For this moment, it had been thrust aside by Jed’s kindness, and she wasn’t about to mess with that. They ordered food and relaxed over really good coffee while it was prepared. Christmas music played in the background, a loop of new and old favorites, and for the first time in years the inviting lyrics seemed genuinely sweet to hear.

*

A rock slide and heavy snow.

Jed stared at the Rock Slide/Road Closed sign in disbelief, then rubbed his jaw.

There was no choice.

The detour arrow pointed left, to an obscure, snow-filled country road.

His first thought was of Mia’s tires. Were they meant for hill climbs in wet snow conditions?

He realized that probably hadn’t been a factor when she bought them. He backed the car up a few feet and made the turn carefully, wondering if the plows had been called out to this secondary road.