Snowbound Summer (The Logan Series Book 3) (8 page)

Staying here alone in the dark
and cold held no appeal.

He might not like her very much,
but maybe if she stayed with him, she could make amends, make things better
between them.

From the storeroom, she took a
large cardboard box, carried it to the fridge, and started to pack.

Chapter
Ten

They made it down the mountain and drove into Brookbridge at
four-twenty. The going was slow, but the Land Rover made steady progress and
the closer they got to town the clearer the road became. The gritting lorries
had been out, adding salt to the main roads, so once they got through the
snow-covered lane to the house it was easier. Nick focused on driving, and
Summer sat in the backseat, turning around and reassuring Fella as they drove.

It was good to not have to talk
to her—what was there to say, anyway?

He couldn’t have left her in a
cold house alone, but the alternative wasn’t great either. His apartment was
small; it would be difficult to share it with her. But there was work—he spent
long hours at the practice as it was, having a houseguest wouldn’t change that.

“I’ll drop you at my apartment
and then take Fella in to the practice.”

“Okay,” she said in a quiet
voice. “Thanks for taking me in.”

He indicated, and pulled up
outside his apartment building. “Fella will be okay in the car for a few
minutes.” He climbed out and took the box of groceries from the front seat.

Summer gathered her things, and
followed him to the door.

“It’s warm in here.” She glanced
around. For the first time, he saw his home through someone else’s eyes. The
place was functional. He hadn’t bothered much with decoration, apart from some
family photographs on the mantelpiece. He put the box down on the kitchen
breakfast bar. He rarely brought the women he dated back here, they usually
ended up in their houses, and he usually left at some stage during the
night—his work consumed him, and he’d never found anyone he wanted to spend
more than a few dates with.

“There’s plenty of hot water.” He
walked into the spare bedroom. “This is your room. There are sheets and
blankets in the cupboard next to the bathroom.” He shoved his hands into his
pockets. “I better go. If you need anything...”

“I’ll find it.” Her smile was
difficult to resist. “Thanks again, Nick. For everything.”

He took a step back. “I may be
late, so don’t wait up.” He gestured to the rack of take-out menus next to the
phone. “All these guys deliver. The Chinese is good.” Keys hung on a hook next
to the front door. He picked one up and handed it over. “Here’s a spare key for
you.” He opened the door wide. “See you later.”

Familiar cars were lined up in
the parking lot—Sean’s, Evie’s, and two cars for the temporary vets. He had to
carry Fella out of the car, but once down, the dog trotted along next to him
easily enough.

“You’re back!” Evie walked around
the desk on seeing him. “And you’ve brought a friend.” She patted Fella’s head.
“Hi, boy.” She looked up. “This is the patient?”

“Yes, this is Fella.” They went
into a treatment room. “I don’t suppose you could get me a coffee, could you?
Is Sean around?”

“I’ll tell him you’re back.” She
disappeared.

Moments later the door opened. “So,
what happened to you?” Sean looked him over. “You look like shit.”

“Well, I’ve been living in a
house without electricity, I haven’t showered for a couple of days, and I took
a swim in the river this morning, courtesy of this guy.” He jerked a hand
toward Fella.

“You were out at Declan’s parents’
house?” Sean eyed him. “Evie said a woman called.”

“Summer.” There was no point in
lying any more. “It was Declan’s sister, Summer. She was staying there alone.”

Sean didn’t know her, but he knew
of her, everyone knew of Summer Costello. “Doesn’t she live in London?”

“Normally. She decided to spend Christmas
in their house. The power is still out—she’s staying with me for the time
being.”

“Bummer.” Sean crouched in front
of Fella. “That’s going to cramp your style. I know how you love your privacy.”
It wasn’t that he loved his privacy, it was just that he hadn’t found anyone he
liked enough to share it with. “Is she still staying for the Christmas party?”

The party. “Damn, I’d forgotten.
When is that?” He seemed to have lost all sense of the date.

“Tomorrow night,” Sean said. “Everyone
is looking forward to it.”

The annual Christmas party was in
the local Italian restaurant,
Buona Vita
, with dancing afterwards at
their nightclub,
Arabellas
. Everyone brought a date—everyone except him,
he hadn’t had a chance to ask anyone yet.

“You should bring her,” Sean
said. “I mean, you can hardly leave her on her own. I’d quite like to meet this
Summer, anyway. Didn’t she leave to run her own restaurant in London? So she’s
not married?”

Evie came in with a cup of
coffee. “Thanks, Evie. You can’t know how much I appreciate it.” He sipped the
hot liquid. “She’s not married.”

“Who’s not married?” Evie asked.

“Summer Costello.” Sean gathered
supplies. “I guess we better get this dog up on the table and clean out his
wound if he’s been swimming in the river.”

“Swimming in the river? Wow, this
dog lives dangerously.” Evie’s eyes widened.

“Nick’s been swimming too.” Sean
laid out a long strip of paper towel on the examination table. “Give me a hand.”

Together, they lifted Fella onto
the table.

*****

Nick had said he would be late, and not to wait up, but she
didn’t believe him. He would be exhausted after the day they’d had, and he must
want to shower and change. She spent an hour in the bath, luxuriating in the
hot water. After living without hot water and electricity she realized how she
took them for granted. She changed her clothes, and put on a load of
washing—her clothing and Nick’s, and the borrowed clothing Nick had been
wearing when he dived into the river earlier.

When he came in, he’d be hungry.
She had unpacked her groceries into his barren fridge, and set to making a
casserole, using chicken pieces that she found in the freezer, and her stock of
fresh vegetables. She turned the television on to keep her company while she
worked, and opened a bottle of wine.

Things had got way out of hand
while they were in the mountains. If Declan hadn’t rung, they would be eating
there together, going upstairs to the bedroom she’d slept in since childhood,
getting creative, and finally using the sole condom in the house. She swallowed
a mouthful of wine.
Thank goodness that hadn’t happened.

Her stomach hollowed out at the
memory of his mouth, tracing down her neck.

It’s not a good idea.
The
memory of his body, long and lean squashed up against hers made her clench her
thighs together in a vain attempt to quench the sensations that tingled through
her, turning her muscles lax. Her nipples pressed against her clean bra as she
remembered his touch, his scent, his feel.

If only they didn’t know each
other, if their lives weren’t so intertwined that it was impossible to detach
after intimacy.

She stirred the casserole and
shoved it into the oven.

*****

Nick showered and shaved at the practice, and dressed in
spare scrubs. He’d checked Fella’s stitches, cleaned his wound and bandaged it,
and set Fella on a course of antibiotics, just in case. He’d put the dog in one
of the cages in the surgery, but had already decided to take him home later, he
didn’t need to be there, and they needed the room for any unexpected patients.
He filled out a patient card, and charged medicine to his own account. No-one
would be paying for Fella’s care, and even if someone tried to claim him, there
was no way he’d hand the dog over to the person who’d treated him so badly.

Mid-afternoon, he received a call
from Declan. “Is Summer with you?”

“No. I’m at work. The weather
improved enough for us to make it back to Brookbridge. The power is still out
at your parents’ house, so I brought Summer back with me—she’s staying in my
apartment.”

“Good. I don’t like the idea of
her at the house alone. I didn’t buy that story she was spinning for a moment.
There’s something up. This time last year, she was rushed off her feet with
bookings for the restaurant—I don’t understand how she can leave it during the
busiest time of the year. There’s something off with her explanation of why Michael
isn’t with her too. How is she? Is she depressed?”

Nick didn’t like keeping things
from his oldest friend, but it wasn’t his place to reveal that Michael and
Summer’s relationship was over, if indeed it was. “She doesn’t seem depressed.
Tired, yes. But not depressed.”

“Can you keep an eye on her until
Michael arrives?”

How could he refuse? “Of course.
She can stay with me.”

“That’s great, mate.” Declan
sounded happier. “Something is going on with her—I can’t work it out from a
distance, but I’m relieved that you’re there in my place. You know Summer, she
always wants people to think the best of her.”

Does she?
It struck Nick
that he didn’t know Summer at all if that was the case.

“I better let you get back to it.”
They said their goodbyes.

When the last of the evening’s
patients had been dealt with, he changed back into the borrowed clothes and
turned to Sean. “You want to grab some dinner?”

“Sure.” If Sean thought it was
strange that he wasn’t rushing back to see his house-guest, he didn’t say
anything about it. “The Farmers?”

“Sounds great.” The Farmers Arms
in the middle of the village served great home-cooked food, and right now he
couldn’t think of anything better than a plate of steak and chips and a pint.

It was strange to be back in
civilization. Disconcerting to hear the buzz of voices, when for the past
couple of days the only voices he’d heard had been Summer’s and Fella’s. “I’ll
go back and take Fella home with me tonight. He won’t get a home before
Christmas.”

“It could be difficult to find
him a home anytime—you know what people are like, they want cute puppies.” Sean
gulped his pint. “Might you take him?”

“Maybe.” With all that Fella had
been through he couldn’t stand the thought of him ending up in a pound. Sean
was right, and Fella was a large dog with an unknown history—it was by no means
certain that he’d fit into a family with kids. The easiest solution would be to
give the dog a permanent home. He’d always avoided the possibility of owning a
dog, but Fella could come in to work with him everyday. “I think I will.”

“Good.” Sean lifted his pint. “Here’s
to the new member of your family then.”

“To Fella.” Their food arrived.

“So what’s the story with Summer
Costello? You didn’t know she was staying in her parents’ house, did you?”

“No.” Nick had no secrets from
Sean. “No one did. She was hiding out.”

Sean’s forehead creased. “I
thought she was all set up in London.”

“She owns a restaurant, and is in
a long-term relationship. At least, I think she does. I’m confused, to be
honest. Last night she told me the relationship had been over for months, but
today she told her family Michael was joining her here for Christmas. I don’t
know what to think.” He attacked his steak with a vengeance.

“If she’s hiding out, it seems to
me that she’s hiding something. Maybe something she’s ashamed of. Would the
failure of a relationship be such a big deal?”

Summer was a success; everyone
said so. Maybe confessing the truth, that her relationship had failed, would
seem impossible?

“It shouldn’t be. I mean, what is
she going to do—pretend forever?”

“Or maybe it’s a temporary thing,
they’re on a break, and she hopes they’ll get back together before she has to
tell anyone,” Sean said.

“If that’s it, I don’t know why
she’d tell me different.” The more he thought about it, the more likely it was
that Summer was lying to her parents. That she didn’t want them to know that
she and Michael were over. She’d said she didn’t want anything to spoil their
holiday. And her parents would definitely be upset if they thought she was
spending Christmas alone. “I guess I’ll have to talk to her. But not tonight.
Tonight I’m so tired, I just want to eat and go home and crash.”

*****

After a night of broken sleep, Summer climbed out of bed and
got dressed. She hadn’t bothered to unpack. The repair crew had said they
expected to get the electricity back on within twenty-four hours, and once that
was done, she’d go back home. It was six days before Christmas, and the thought
of the long, lonely days stretching out before her held little appeal.

But she had things to do. She’d
brought her laptop and a file of accounts from the restaurant, which she wanted
to get square before she returned to London. It had been hard to accept the
failure of the business that she’d poured all her hopes, and her money, into. She
should have given up earlier, but she’d soldiered on, pouring good money after
bad until she was so cash-strapped that she’d been forced to let staff go.

At that stage, there was no
chance of crawling her way back.

She’d put the restaurant up for
sale as a going concern, and hoped to find a buyer soon. At least the bank was being
reasonable—for the moment.

But the collapse of the
restaurant meant she no longer had anywhere to live in London too. She’d spent
the previous week in a hotel, and then had to face facts. There was nothing
keeping her in London any longer. Her savings had been depleted to such an
extent that with no job she couldn’t afford to rent anywhere.

And long days and nights
concentrating on the business meant she had acquaintances, but no friends—the
friends she and Michael made together had been his friends before they moved in
together, and remained his friends after they broke up.

Her best option was to return to
Ireland, find a position as a head chef, and pay off the remainder of her debt
from a distance.

Summer’s idea was to formulate a
repayment plan. Find somewhere cheap to live, or failing that, move back in
with her parents, and to find a job locally. Moving home was humiliating, but
might be her only alternative. The money she would save on rent would go toward
clearing her debt. Her parents had invested in the restaurant. It would take
years to pay them back, but not doing so wasn’t an option.