Taming His Montana Heart(44)

“I’m so sorry.” He repeated with his mouth an inch from her hand. “What was it? I’m so—darn it, I keep saying that but it’s because I mean it. Tell me to shut up if you don’t want to go there but what happened? If she was sick—maybe an accident?”

Part of why she’d wanted this job was so she could put physical and hopefully emotional distance between herself and her mother’s death. Why then had she blurted out what she had and why did his gesture bring her close to tears?

“Not sick.” She evaded. “She was always healthy, at least physically.”

He pressed her palm against the side of his neck.

Between his warmth and compassion, she felt as if she was melting into him. They could remain like this all night, neither of them needing to speak, communicating wordlessly. She would memorize the rhythm of his heartbeat and he’d study how her chest rose and fell with her every breath. They’d watch it snow and in the morning, after spending the night making love, they’d share in the sun’s rising.

“An accident?”

“An accident.” She parroted his words.

“To lose your mother when you were so young—you were probably just starting to see yourself as an independent young lady. Your relationship with your parents was evolving, uncertain, maybe strained sometimes. Then suddenly the most important person in your life was gone and you don’t know how to handle it.”

She couldn’t speak.

“A close friend of mine’s parents got divorced when he was thirteen,” Shaw continued. “He was angry at both of them, particularly his dad who’d been having an affair. Jeff wanted back the life he had before the separation.” Shaw moved her hand to his cheek, destroying the last of her defenses as he did. “If your mother was killed in an automobile accident…”

Everything stopped with the word killed. She hated it with every fiber of her being, wanted to rip it to shreds, drop it in the middle of the ocean, set it on fire.

Shaw’s hold on her wrist tightened. “Haley? Where did you go?”

“What? Nowhere.”

“Yes you did. Did I say something to upset you?”

I can’t think around you. Don’t make this so hard, don’t—“Not upset.”

“Then what?”

“My mother was murdered.”





Chapter Fourteen




“What do you think? Is Santa Claus real?”

“I don’t know. I saw three Clauses yesterday. He can’t be at all those places at the same time.”

Wishing his brother had told him how to handle the Santa Claus issue with Alexa, Shaw stepped outside so hopefully his mind would clear. Last night’s storm had dumped about ten inches of snow on top of the kind of base that made ski resort managers drool and drivers cringe. At least Haley hadn’t had to rely on someone’s snowmobile to get home because the snowplow operator had made several passes between the lodge and where resort employees lived. Thanks to Steve, Haley and others had been able to walk the short distance.

He’d wanted to accompany her. No, he’d wanted to carry her upstairs to his apartment and place her on his bed, but her silence following her admission had left him believing she needed to be alone. She’d acted like it. He’d stumbled about trying to get her to say more, but she had closed up. After a mostly sleepless night, he was still trying to decide how and when to contact her and what he should say. The call from Alexa was providing him with a needed distraction.

“Santa has helpers,” he told his niece. “I bet that’s what you saw.”

“Maybe. Uncle Shaw, if there isn’t a Santa, will you be sad?”

Too bad he couldn’t reach across the miles and hug his favorite five plus year old. “No honey, I won’t be sad. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“That’s what Mommy says.”

He stifled a chuckle. “Is your daddy there? There’s something I want to ask him.”

“Is it a secret, a Christmas secret?”

“Well if it is, I’m not going to tell you. Give your brother a hug for me, all right?”

“He pooped his pants.”

“Oh. Well, in that case you have my permission to hold off hugging him until he’s been cleaned up. Where’s your daddy?”

“In the garage being mad.”

As Shaw soon found out, his brother’s mad had been caused by a flat tire. Boone had replaced the flat and was about to head for the tire store.

“The joys of being an adult,” Boone explained. “So much for thinking I’d be spending my day off putting up Mom and Dad’s Christmas lights. Have you talked to them lately?”

“Just before Alexa called. Of course Dad said he was perfectly capable of stringing lights like he’s always done. Mom told him there was no way that was going to happen, that they’d wait for you.”

“Wise woman.”

“I just wish you didn’t have to do it all.”

“You’ll get my bill. There aren’t any lights on the lodge roof are there? That sucker’s steep.”

“It’s also buried under snow,” he explained followed by bringing his brother up to date on how much snow had fallen overnight. He should have put on his coat before going out, but his office walls had been closing in on him.