The Calendar Brides (24 page)

“Just hold it nice and steady!” he called through the howling winds. “I’m going to pull up ahead of you. Then, once you get going, I’ll let the chain drop. Whatever you do, keep your eyes on the road—and don’t stop!”

Christine’s heart hammered against her chest as she gripped the wheel. How nutty could she be? She was here to rebuild things with Tyler, not to find some fly-by-night romance for herself. She didn’t even believe in romance anymore. She’d already had the romance of a lifetime with Tyler’s dad, and he’d left her with responsibilities. At the moment, her number one priority lay in getting her son to safety.

“Get ready now!” the man shouted. “On three! One… Two…”

“Mommy, I gotta pee,” Tyler interjected.

“Not now, baby. Just hold it.”

“Three!”

At once, the front of their vehicle was airborne and Christine feared they’d careen off the road. Then the pickup moved ahead at a gradual pace until her fishtailing SUV centered itself on the road. Sweat beaded her brow as Christine muttered prayers under her breath. Finally, they were moving forward, going straight as an arrow down the narrow road. The pickup slowed, pulling onto the shoulder to let her pass. The heavy chain dropped to the snowy lane. Christine glanced in her rearview mirror as the man scurried out of his truck to scoop it off the road, his tail-wagging dog behind him.

“Who was that?” Tyler asked, as the pickup faded from sight.

Christine heaved a grateful sigh. “Our guardian angel.”

John sat in his truck with Mason, watching the beautiful woman and her son disappear through the snowdrifts. The kid was cute enough, but it was the mom who’d held his attention. What with those big, dark eyes and that long brown hair that fell in waves to her shoulders, it would be impossible for a man not to notice. Still, it was nonsensical that he’d paid attention to her looks. It wasn’t like he’d consider dating someone that homicidal behind the wheel. Besides, where there was a boy, there was bound to be a father. John was nowhere near interested in getting tangled up in that. He had his fair share of picks in Burlington, and had always steered clear of single mothers. He wasn’t even sure he had room for a woman in his life. At this point in his career, a full-blown family was a nonstarter. If she was still married to the boy’s dad, that was even worse. John wouldn’t be touching that with a twenty-foot pole.

John pushed back his parka hood and shook his head, attempting to clear it. Maybe the December air had gotten to him, because here he was, thinking all sorts of crazy thoughts about a woman he didn’t even know. From the way she’d been totally thrown by the landscape and the tags on the rental SUV, she wasn’t a local resident anyhow, just someone passing through. Chances of seeing her around were minimal. But what did that matter to him? The most important thing was that she and her son got to where they were going without running themselves—or anyone else—off the road again.
 

“What did you think, old boy?” he asked, patting the retriever’s head.
 

The dog barked loudly.

“Yeah, they seemed like city slickers to me, too.”

Christine pulled the SUV to the side of the road and double-checked the address. Just ahead of them sat a classic farmhouse nestled in a snowy field behind a split-rail fence. She stepped into the biting cold to wipe the snow off of the sign dangling from a post at the head of the drive. WINTERHAVEN appeared in stenciled lettering. Winds whipped up as Christine battled her way back to the SUV, shielding her face with her coat sleeve. She clambered into the driver’s seat with a shiver and cranked up the heat another notch.

“Looks like we’re home,” she said softly to Tyler, who snoozed in his car seat. They’d paused for a potty break ten miles earlier then he’d promptly passed out from exhaustion. Not even the chill of the wind on his face woke him up as she carried him toward the house.

Moments later, Christine carted her sleeping boy over the threshold of the old-style structure. The great room was cozy yet elegant, with exposed wood beams and a large stone hearth. A fire had been laid for them in advance, a neat stack of logs and extra kindling sticks piled in a box nearby.

“Nice,” Christine said to herself.
 

She decided to let Tyler rest on the sofa while she settled in. After laying him down and covering him with a handy throw blanket, she perused the rest of the place. The kitchen was expansive and well equipped, and the three bedrooms upstairs were every bit as comfortable, with four-poster beds and huge down comforters. From each window, visions of a winter wonderland beckoned her to run outside and play. Christine felt her inner child delight in the thought of making snowmen and snow angels, then racing indoors to hot cocoa and homemade cookies. Maybe Ellen was more right about this trip than she knew. A fresh change in scenery and limited interruptions could set just the right stage for quality Mommy and Tyler time.

A little while later, Christine sat at the large farm table near the front of the great room sipping her coffee and studying directions to the local market. Tyler stirred, then sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning.

“Where are we?” he asked, clutching Jasper.

“Winterhaven.”

“Huh?”
 

“It’s where we’re staying, baby. What do you think?”

He looked around, still a little dazed.

“Where’s the TV?”

“I don’t think there is one.”

His small lips pulled into a pout.

“What’s there to do?”

“Plenty! There are puzzles over there in the cupboard. Legos, Lincoln Logs…”

“Lincoln who?” he asked, astounded.

“I’ll show you, honey. It’s fun.”

Unconvinced, Tyler scooped his little backpack off the floor and extracted a portable video game. Next, he dug out its charger, settling back on the sofa to survey the surrounding lamps. “Least there’s ’lectricity.”

Christine studied her son, thinking he was a tad too modern for his own good. She had to admit, though, that even she’d forgotten about old-fashioned fun stuff like roasting marshmallows until she’d walked in here. “You hungry?” she queried, thinking he must be.

Dark eyes lit up. “Deep-dish Chicago pizza?”

“Not here.”

“Oh,” he said, disappointed.

Christine folded the map in her hands, noting the snow had stopped outside. It was likely a temporarily lull in the weather. Best to take advantage while they could.

“I was just reading about the local market. I’m not sure if they’ll have pizza, but they’re bound to have provisions. How about you and I head over there and check it out?”

Chapter Three

Christine halted her brimming shopping cart in the aisle as Tyler dropped in a huge bag of marshmallows. They were at Mac’s Market, the sole grocers in the tiny village on the outskirts of Burlington. Already they had chocolate bars and graham crackers. Their list was nearly complete. “Can’t forget the cocoa,” she said, smiling at her son. She reached for it but it was high on a shelf, all the way to the back.

“Here, let me help with that,” a familiar masculine voice said over her shoulder.

Christine heard a happy bark and turned to find the man from the road behind her. He wore winter boots, jeans, and a gray college sweatshirt beneath his open parka. Up close and personal, he looked even better than he had outdoors, his short dark hair and ruddy complexion a heady complement to his eyes.

“Well, hello,” he said with a smile. Mason wriggled on his haunches beside him, wagging his tail. Tyler stared up at the guy and his jaw dropped.

“Are you really an angel?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Mommy says you’re an angel.”

Christine felt her face flush. “Oh no, I think he misunderstood. I was just… What I mean is…” She glanced down at Mason, then up at him, amazed. “They let dogs in here?”

The man leaned forward with a confidential whisper. “He doesn’t know he’s a dog. He thinks he’s a college student.”

Why did the mention of college spark some vague recognition? Christine’s eyes locked on his sweatshirt. “Carolina?” she asked with surprise.

“The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,” he said with pride.

“No way.”

“Way.”

“You went there?”

“Most certainly did.”

“Small world.”

“And you?”

She looked at him and smiled. “I know why the sky’s Carolina blue.”

“God’s a Tar Heel,” he said with a laugh.

Tyler studied him with awe. “I thought you might know God.”

The man eyed Tyler curiously. “Here,” he said to Christine, “let me help you with that cocoa.” He reached for it and easily took it from the shelf, handing it to her. She accepted it, inexplicably spellbound as his blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

“You know, I never got the chance to thank you for our daring rescue.”

“Oh, it wasn’t so daring,” he said.

“We could have been stuck there for hours.”

“How’s the SUV holding up?”

“As long as I stay on the road it works like a charm.”

They shared a bout of companionable laughter, then stood there staring at each other as if each wanted to speak but neither could think up anything to say.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Christine offered awkwardly. “We’d best finish up. It’s been a long day.”

“Of course.”

John thoughtfully watched them walk away, feeling an unfamiliar tug in his chest. She was just some girl from Carolina. So what if she’d wound up in Vermont? That didn’t mean she’d be interested, and certainly didn’t indicate she was available. Mason stood beside him, itching to follow after the woman and her son. How come his dog always knew things he didn’t?

“You know I was thinking,” John called out.

She turned on her heels, her cheeks flushed.
 

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“You were?”
 

“I mean, I meant to tell you... wanted to say, it was really great running into you.”
 

Boy, was she a looker with those big, dark eyes and neatly compact figure. She was even prettier than he’d given her credit for in the SUV.

“Yeah, you too. But, you know, I was wondering…” Mason interjected a happy bark, not wanting to be left out. “My dog and I were wondering… what’s a Carolina girl like you doing all the way up here?”

“I’m a Chicago girl now,” she said, taking her son’s hand.

“The question stands.”

“We’re house-sitting for a friend,” she said with a sweet smile. “And you?”

John shifted on his feet, feeling as if she were assessing him. He’d probably forgotten to shave or something. “I teach over at the college.” He mentally kicked himself for the one little detail that had slipped his mind. “My apologies,” he said extending his hand. “I never introduced myself. I’m John Steadman.”

She stepped forward to accept his grip and John caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelled all sweet and womanly, like a field full of wildflowers in summertime.
 

“Christine White. Nice to meet you.”

Soulful dark eyes met his and John felt the back of his neck flash hot. There was a tug at his sleeve and John looked down.

“I’m Tyler!” the little boy said, bouncing on his heels.

John kneeled to greet him at eye level, man to man.

“Good to know ya, little fellow,” he said, firmly shaking Tyler’s hand. “You taking good care of your mom?”

Tyler nodded solemnly and John chuckled.

“Well, keep up the good work!”

Mason held up a paw in Tyler’s direction. John glanced at Christine for her approval, got it, then looked at the boy. “Seems like Mason wants to shake hands, too.”

Ten minutes later, they stood in the snow outside the rental SUV where John had helped load groceries in the back. While it had been fun running into them, John didn’t have the nerve to suggest seeing them again. What kind of sense would that make? Christine and Tyler were bound to have made their own vacation plans, and John had plenty to take care of too.
 

“You and Tyler take care, Christine,” John said, waving good-bye.

“Thanks, you too,” she said through her open window. Tyler raised a mitten and called good-bye to the dog as they backed out and slowly pulled away.

John watched their taillights fade as Mason stood by with a sullen expression.

“Don’t look so down, fellow,” John told him, stroking his head. “Santa’s coming soon.”

The dog gave him a sideways glance like he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. Okay, so maybe he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean he had to act on it.
 

“And none of that nonsense about how I should have gotten her number,” John scolded, adjusting his parka. “I have a very occupied life.”