“Will do.”
The teen donned the headphones and buried her nose in her homework.
Lyndon sighed, enjoying the peace and quiet. He’d noticed the girl’s room was spotless with everything put away in drawers or the closet. He’d seen how some of his friends’ kids kept their rooms. If the cops were called, the attending officers might surmise a burglar had tossed the place.
He smiled. If he ever had a daughter, he hoped she’d turn out to be something like this girl: conscientious, tidy, thoughtful, excellent student, self-disciplined. Her father might be controlling and possess any number of faults, but he’d raised a darn nice kid.
Chapter 18
Since Emma had been thrust into sharing the cabin with Lyndon, struggling with the book, overcoming the difficulties resulting from the unfortunate encounter with poison ivy, and then facing the challenges of dealing with a teenager, she’d neglected her nails and they looked in terrible shape. Tonight was manicure and pedicure time.
She’d finished the first coat of polish on her right hand and shifted the brush to her left when she glanced up and noticed Shelley watching her.
“What is it?” Emma inquired.
“Can I do my nails, too?” Shelley whispered.
Emma smiled. “Sure. File them first. And there’s a cuticle tool in there.” She nodded toward her nail bag on the island countertop.
Shelley produced something from behind her back and Emma recognized the cover from the tenth book she’d published. “Would you sign this one for me? It’s my favorite of all you’ve written.”
“Mine, too!” Emma exclaimed. “I loved writing that book and the characters were so much fun to manipulate.”
“And it’s so funny. When Rick topples into the lake, I laughed so hard.” Shelley beamed. “The dialogue was perfect. He would have been so mad at Sarah pushing him in and then making fun of him.”
“He deserved it for filling her car with all those balloons.”
“Exactly.” Shelley seated herself on a barstool.
Emma shook her head. “Can you imagine driving into a parking lot for a job interview with your car full of balloons and the first person you spot is the company owner who was about to interview you?”
“I would have been so mad, too.” Shelley started filing her nails. “Rick deserved everything Sarah did to him. But I never guessed her new boss was Rick’s brother.”
“Always a surprise at the end.” Emma winked at her. “Didn’t you say something like that the other day?”
“You never know how it’s going to end until the last chapter,” Shelley repeated.
Lyndon returned to the cabin and wandered into the kitchen. “What are you ladies doing?”
“Nails.” Emma held up one hand for inspection.
“I’m doing mine also,” Shelley chimed in.
“Well, you’re not doing mine. I’m making myself a sandwich then heading to bed.” Lyndon dug sandwich fixings out of the fridge.
“What color do you want to use?” Emma pointed with her chin. “There’s a dozen to choose from in there.”
Shelley dug inside the bag and pulled out a bottle of medium-blue colored polish. “I love this one.” She glanced down at Jake and then up at Emma.
“Go for it,” Emma whispered, glancing at Lyndon preparing a sandwich at the far counter.
Lyndon grabbed a beer out of the fridge and wandered into the family room.
Shelley sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor and Jake sat patiently allowing her to paint his toenails blue. When she finished, she painted her own to match.
Emma finished coloring her fingernails in the dark crimson she’d chosen. “Want to do each other’s toes as well?” she suggested.
“Sure.” Shelley scooted over to Emma’s stool and waved her hand. “You first.”
Emma handed her the bottle of polish and stuck out her right foot.
Soon both of them were sporting newly painted toenails, including Jake.
“Don’t we all look marvelous?” Shelley exclaimed, beaming.
Lyndon returned to the kitchen. “Let’s see,” he mumbled and then noticed Jake. “What the heck did you do to my dog?”
“He looks gorgeous,” Shelley claimed.
“I do like the scarf,” Lyndon admitted.
“Thank you.”
“Aye, Mate. You look like a pirate, Jake.”
Shelley giggled. “He loves the skull and crossbones pattern.”
“I just bet he does.” Lyndon was proud of his dog and the patience he demonstrated with the girl. He glanced at Emma and shrugged. “You two are nuts. And quit spending so much time with Jake. Next thing I know you’ll be drawing straws to see who keeps him.”
“That’s an option?” Emma exclaimed, winking at Shelley.
“No! It’s not.” Lyndon tossed his empty into the recycling container. “I’m going to bed. I need to get an early start so I can finish that garage before my dog loves you guys more than me.”
Emma and Shelley burst into laughter.
“You might already be too late,” Shelley whispered, hugging Jake who held up his paw for her to admire.
Emma chuckled, hearing Lyndon’s groan coming from somewhere down the hallway. “You’d better go to your bed, Jake,” she suggested.
The dog dutifully raced off to join his owner, sporting blue toenails and his brand new neck scarf.
Chapter 19
Lyndon startled awake when twenty-five pounds of adult cocker spaniel flopped onto his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
“Jake, what the heck are you doing?” he muttered in the dark, attempting to move the dog aside, enabling him to once again take a deep breath.
And then Lyndon heard the wind howling in low-pitched complaint and the unmistakable sound of frozen sleet pelting the glass windows on the bedroom’s patio doors, announcing the arrival of this winter’s first snow.
“Okay, I hear it, too,” Lyndon acknowledged softly, petting the shaking dog. “You hate storms. I know, buddy, it’s scary. But it’ll be over soon, I hope.”
Jake whimpered and attempted to crawl on top of Lyndon’s head.
“No, hide in here, boy.” Lyndon shifted over, tugged the bedding aside, and then covered Jake with the rusty-brown comforter leaving only his wet black nose in view. “If you can’t see it, maybe it’s not there.”
Jake continued shaking and panting rapidly.
“Or not,” Lyndon mumbled, yawning. He’d been sound asleep in the pitch black room before the rude awakening, and there was no telling how long the storm would last. He laid his arm along Jake’s back and patted the covers atop his trembling body. “I’m here, Jake. It’ll be okay.”
“Hi.”
Lyndon looked toward the bedroom door. He could barely distinguish the dark form standing where he’d left the door slightly ajar. The storm had obliterated the moonlight that illuminated the room when he’d turned in for the night, and he could barely see his hand on Jake’s head, never mind distinguish who stood in the doorway. But he’d know that soft voice anywhere.
Emma.
“Don’t tell me. You hate storms, too.”
“Too?” She wandered a little farther into the room.
Lyndon pointed to the small lump in bed beside him. “My pal is under here.”
“Poor guy,” Emma crooned. “Is he scared?”
“Hates storms of any kind.”
“I hate the wind. And lightning and thunder in summer. When I woke up, I turned on my bedside lamp, but nothing happened. The power’s out.”
“Crap. It’s going to get cold in here.” Lyndon pointed to the other side of Jake, hoping she’d see the movement despite the darkness. “Go ahead. Climb in beside him.”
Emma padded on bare feet across the floor, lifted the covers up, and slipped underneath. “Sorry about being a scaredy-cat,” she whispered, pulling the covers up to her chin.
He heard a slurping sound and smiled. Jake greeted her arrival with a wet k
iss.
“It’ll be all right soon. I’m a little scared, too, big guy. Don’t worry,” Emma whispered.
Lyndon lay back against the pillows. He loved storms, especially the mournful howl of wind and Mother Nature’s exquisite lightning shows that lit up the entire sky in summer. He looked forward to the first real snow every year, but he hadn’t expected a power outage as part of the deal. The furnace wouldn’t work without electricity and the electric fireplaces in the bedrooms and living room would be useless. At least, Mike had installed an actual woodstove in the family room, knowing mountain weather patterns would result in this exact sort of thing occasionally. Lyndon decided he’d better build a fire in case the power remained out any length of time.
“I called Jake but he didn’t come,” Shelley whispered, standing in the doorway holding a small flashlight Lyndon didn’t recognize. Perhaps she’d packed it from home. With her arms wrapped around her middle, she stood shivering, wearing a black and white, cow-patterned onesie and a worried expression.
Lyndon shook his head. Not the teen, too. Thank goodness, Mike and Rachael put king-sized beds in every guest room. “Climb in beside Emma.”
Shelley scooted across the floor, set the flashlight on the bedside table, and disappeared under the covers a moment later.
“Your feet are freezing,” Emma exclaimed.
“Sorry. I know,” Shelley admitted, shifting her legs over.
“Want me to get you two a pair of socks?” Lyndon offered.
Emma and Shelley exchanged a look. “Okay,” they responded in unison.
“Thank you,” they added in unison again, followed by collective giggling.
Lyndon crawled out of bed. Thank goodness he wore pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt to bed when in the mountains. Nights were cold here, occasionally chilly in summer even. He dug two pairs of white tube socks out of his dresser draw. Now that Emma’s rash was cleared up, his sock inventory had returned to normal. He handed a pair to each woman. “Put these on.”
“Thank you,” Emma repeated.
Lyndon reached for the small flashlight, “I’m taking this with me, but I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Shelley mumbled, her head under the covers while she squirmed around donning the socks.
He stumbled his way down the hallway to the kitchen where he found the large flashlight he’d used the night they’d investigated the flicker of light in the equipment shed. He turned it on, turned the small one off and set it on the counter, and then made his way into the family room. He opened each of the twin cupboards for wood storage, hidden in the bottom of the built-in bookcases and discovered both cupboards were filled to capacity and the kindling cubbyhole was full also.
“One fire coming up,” he muttered and got down to work.
Twenty minutes later, the family room was warming up and Lyndon closed the woodstove door, viewing the blazing fire through the large glass window. The wind continued to howl and moan. Lyndon pulled back one of the drapery panels and peeked outside through a sleet-splattered glass pane, catching a glimpse of trees swaying in the front yard. It was ugly out there, and he could only guess what they’d wake up to. An inch of snow or two feet of the white stuff. You never knew in the mountains.
Lyndon grabbed the flashlight before making his way down the hallway to his guest room to discover his three cabinmates still huddled together as one huge lump in the bed. He smiled; he didn’t mind being the man of the house and saving the day. Their protector and hero. Maybe having a family to love and safeguard wouldn’t be such a bad thing. True, his first marriage had been a colossal failure, but maybe fate intended it as a trial run for what was coming his way. Maybe that poor attempt had been needed so the second time would be the right one, especially if it involved Emma. And having a couple kids with her wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him.
Or was he counting chickens here?
He’d never heard her mention wanting kids.
And she must be into her thirties already. He couldn’t recall her ever mentioning any thoughts on marriage. Perhaps she had no intention of marriage and children, ever.
He slipped his arms into his robe and donned the pair of sheepskin-lined slippers he’d parked by the bed. His feet were almost cramping with the cold; he should have thought to don slippers when he first crawled out of bed. But if the wood boxes had been empty, he’d have raced back here and climbed under the covers with Jake and the two females.
“I built a fire in the family room woodstove. Nice and toasty warm in there, if you’re interested,” he commented, hoping to entice a response.
Two heads popped out from under the covers.
“Really?” Emma whispered.
“Are you making hot chocolate?” Shelley added.
He shook his head, grinning. “I might be convinced.”
Bedcovers flew everywhere and the two women leapt out of bed, followed by Jake. He noticed now that Emma was dressed in a two-piece red pajama set in a Christmas candy cane pattern. Rushing the season by a few weeks, but whatever.
“Are there extra comforters?” Shelley muttered.
“In the hallway linen closet. I’ll get two,” Emma replied.
“Come on, Jake. You can have the plush throw in the family room.” Shelley offered the dog his favorite blanket as Jake padded down the hallway behind her.
“How are you going to make hot chocolate? We don’t have any power?” Emma inquired, digging around in the closet.
“Good point. Grab me one of those, too.” Lyndon returned to the kitchen and prepared the hot chocolate fixings then disappeared down the hallway. He dug an old steel pot Mike used for cooking on the outside firepit out of the back room storage closet and filled it with water from the laundry room tap. He carried it down the hallway and into the family room without spilling a drop. He carefully set it inside the woodstove to boil, leaving the door open to keep an eye on it.
Lyndon looked around. All three of his cabinmates were cuddled up. Emma occupied one sofa, a brown duvet up to her chin. The fuzzy throw sat unused on the other sofa, and Shelley and Jake huddled together beside the stone hearth closer to the fire’s warmth, cuddled up under a navy blue duvet.
“This is so nice,” Shelley whispered, hugging Jake tightly.
“Watch for flying embers with that door open,” Emma warned. “Don’t sit too close.”
Shelley and Jake scooted back a couple feet and snuggled close again.
“Hot chocolate should be ready soon. I don’t suppose you guys want marshmallows,” Lyndon muttered, grinning. Emma would make a wonderful mother. He hadn’t thought to warn the teen of the possible danger.
Shelley gasped and looked up at him. “Are you kidding?”
Emma chuckled. “Of course we do. Otherwise, why bother?”
Lyndon laughed. “Your wish…”
“Is my command,” Emma and Shelley finished his thought, in union. And then they laughed.
Lyndon had never heard a lovelier sound.
He retrieved the potholders from the cupboard and removed the pot of boiling water from the woodstove. He carefully carried it across the floor, into the kitchen, and set it on the stovetop. A couple minutes later he returned to the family room with a tray holding three steaming mugs of cocoa complete with white mini marshmallows overflowing the top. He set the tray on the coffee table.
“Here you go, Shelley.”
The teen untangled herself from the duvet she’d wrapped around her and the dog.
He handed her one of the mugs. “Careful, it’s hot.”
Snuggled in Shelley’s arms, Jake had stopped shaking, but he attempted to sniff the beverage.
“No, Jake.” Shelley turned slightly away from him. “Chocolate is bad for doggies.”
Lyndon had considered his pal and brought him a dog biscuit from the container on the island. “Here, Jake. Catch.” He tossed the treat and his dog snagged it mid-air, and it was gone after a couple chomps.
Lyndon glanced at
Emma sitting on the sofa, snuggled under her duvet. He handed her a mug and moved the tray to a side table before returning, carrying his own mug. “Mind if I join you under there?” He smiled at Emma, blew on his cocoa, and then took a sip while she considered his question. After all, the third comforter he’d asked for occupied a nearby chair. Was she silently questioning why he’d ignored it? Would she deny his request?
Finally, she pulled aside her duvet. Lyndon settled beside her, parking his feet on the coffee table before she tossed the cover over him. He tucked it around his middle and over his legs, shifted his mug to the other hand, and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder pulling her closer against his side. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her long auburn hair hanging below her shoulders. A strawberry scent from her shampoo teased his nose and he warmed immediately with her soft body against him.
“Jake looks so cozy snuggled up with Shelley, I figured you should be hugged a bit, too.”
She looked into his eyes and smiled. “Won’t say no to a little hugging,” she whispered, cradling her beverage in her hands. She took a sip from her mug. “Mmm… this is really good.”
He caught a brief glimpse of moisture in her eyes. Had his small gesture played havoc with her emotions? How long had it been since a man cuddled her in his arms, offering warmth, comfort and affection? She showed the world a tough exterior, total independence and self-reliance, but everyone needed someone to share life with.
He recalled her parents had passed and she was an only child. She could rely on friends like Rachael, of course, but it wasn’t the same. Emma required someone to remain in her corner no matter what, in good times and in bad. To offer a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on in the wee hours of the night. Share in her successes and sympathize with her failures. He hoped he could one day be that someone for Emma. And her for him. Forever.
“Warming up?” he inquired, softly.
She nodded and took another sip of her cocoa.
He guided her head toward his shoulder and she snuggled closer still. The scent of her shampoo teased his nose; he’d forever love the scent of strawberries.
A Last Resort Page 13