Moonlight Over Manhattan(91)

The introductions seemed to go on and on and blurred in her head. How many people were there? Nine? Ten? Was Kayla married to Jackson or was that someone else? No, the dark-haired girl was Brenna and she was pregnant, which meant she had to be Tyler’s wife. And the woman talking to herself in French while she cooked was élise, Sean’s wife. Jess, Tyler’s teenage daughter, was away at a training camp…

She wished they were wearing name tags.

And she wished they weren’t all looking at her.

It was her turn to say something.

“G-g-g—” The word refused to leave her mouth and she froze. No. No! Why now? She felt the familiar wash of panic. The usual desire to run, but Ethan was standing behind her, his body a solid wall of protection and reassurance.

And she realized she had two choices. She could run, as she’d done that night with Ethan. She could mumble her excuses and leave and no doubt the O’Neils would be very polite about it, or she could face it and find her way through it. Running was the easy way out. Running wasn’t the challenge.

Staying put and trying again, that was the challenge.

She forced herself to stand still. Forced herself to breathe and take her time.

So what if her words weren’t smooth? Did it really matter? This time she was not walking out. She was not calling her sister. She was not going to make a vow never to walk into a room with a bunch of strangers again.

She was going to deal with the issue as best she could.

She felt Ethan’s hand on her shoulder and the reassuring squeeze of his fingers.

She pushed her hair away from her face, conscious of the snow dusting her head and her shoulders. And tried again, this time starting with a different word. “It’s good to meet you all.”

The moment the words left her lips, she felt a rush of elation.

She’d done it.

This time, she hadn’t run from the obstacle. And she discovered that an obstacle didn’t seem so much of an obstacle if you knew you could get to the other side.

The two Siberian huskies, Ash and Luna, came bounding across to her, as did a small miniature poodle with the sweetest face she’d ever seen.

It leaped up at her, leaving paw prints on her black jeans.

“Maple!” It was Jackson who called the dog but Harriet bent and scooped her up.

“Are you Maple? And you live with these two big bruisers? How’s that working out for you?” Her words flowed, as if her previous lack of fluency had never happened.

“It’s working out just fine,” Tyler drawled, “because she’s the one in charge. Don’t let her size fool you. She’s the boss.”

“It is the same in our house.” élise waved the wooden spoon she was holding. “I am smaller, but I am absolutely the boss.” She eyed Sean and he gave a deceptively placid smile.

“I never argue with you when you’re cooking, angel.”

“Those dogs shouldn’t be jumping on our guest.” Elizabeth fussed but Tyler waved a hand.

“Harriet is a dog lover. She’s fine.”

Harriet would have agreed. She was fine. She really was fine.

How many things had she avoided doing in case she stammered? All those phone calls. Her issues with strangers. Most of them were tied in with her anxiety about stammering and what people thought about her.

And honestly, who cared?

No one, just as no one seemed to care that élise spoke with a strong French accent.

Still holding a wriggling, ecstatic Maple, Harriet joined the O’Neils at the table. She was filled with a whole new confidence. Challenge? What challenge? “I spend my whole day around dogs, but sadly not my own. I’ve been thinking of changing that. I hadn’t thought of getting a miniature poodle.”

“She’s a rescue. Jackson found her tied to a tree—” Tyler reached out to help himself to bread but his mother slapped his hand.

“We have a guest.”

“I know we have a guest. There are napkins on the table, which only happens when we have a guest. If napkins are a sign we can’t eat, I hate them more than I did before.” He closed his hand over a bread roll and his mother shook her head in despair.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me. I’m a normal healthy male and I’ve been on the mountain all day expending calories like there’s no tomorrow. I’m starving. If I don’t eat there won’t be a tomorrow. Also, if I eat I can be civil to our guest. If not, I’ll be unconscious and Sean will have to resuscitate me.” He tore the roll in half and spread it thickly with butter.

“What makes you think I’d resuscitate you?” Sean yawned. “For the record, I’d push your body out of the way and eat your portion. And I’ve been operating all day, so don’t look to me for sympathy.”

Sean was a doctor, Harriet remembered. Orthopedic surgeon. Jackson was the businessman.

“No one looks to you for sympathy.” Tyler scowled at Sean. “You’re the least sympathetic doctor on the planet. God help your patients.”

“Sympathy is a wasted emotion, especially since my patients are mostly unconscious.”

“They have no idea how lucky they are.”

“Ignore him.” Elizabeth handed Brenna a deep bowl filled with the most delicious-smelling soup.