Courting Carolina

by Chapman, Janet

  Nicholas unclenched his jaw on a calming breath and turned on the windshield wipers to clear the swirling snow. “It’s none of my business,” he muttered, finally pulling onto the main road behind the procession of exiting workers. “I’m just going to make sure she gets home without breaking her lovely neck.”

  He’d been working at Nova Mare over a year now and still couldn’t get a handle on the locals, which was confounding, considering there wasn’t a country or culture he hadn’t studied at length—some quite intimately. But Mainers appeared to be a breed unto themselves; maddeningly stoic, stubbornly self-reliant, and highly resilient. They were also deeply proud, especially the women.

  Nicholas scowled out the windshield. Not only were the women proud, some of them were really quite bold when it came to pursuing something—or someone—they wanted. And apparently several of them wanted Nova Mare’s unusually tall, blue-eyed Director of Security. Which was becoming a real problem, as he didn’t particularly like being considered Spellbound Falls’ most eligible bachelor—a title he’d heard whispered around with blatant regularity. By the gods, some of the women’s antics were bordering on brazen.

  Not that he had any intention of living like a monk if a lovely lady happened to catch his interest. He just preferred to be the one doing the pursuing.

  So how had the decidedly lovely Julia Campbell escaped his notice?

  Nicholas saw the vehicles in front of him swerve across the center line, allowing his headlights to land on Little Red Riding Hood walking her bicycle down the side of the darkened road in the nearly blinding snow. She’d pulled her hood over her head and was fighting to keep the bicycle’s snow-caked tires out of the ditch, making him wonder why none of her coworkers were offering her a ride.

  Tempted to hunt down her brother and take the punk on a one-way walk in the woods, Nicholas forcibly unclenched his jaw again as he drove past her and pulled to the side. He got out of his truck, but then had to snag the bicycle’s seat when Julia merely veered into the road to go around him. “Take your purse out of the basket,” he said as he grabbed the bike by the frame. “I’m giving you a ride home.”

  He lifted the bike when she didn’t move—effectively making her snatch her purse with a startled squeak—and set it in his truck, but had to then snag Julia’s arm and hustle her out of the road just as several vehicles swerved around them. He let her go when she bolted up the length of the truck and opened the passenger door, but then followed when she merely stood there staring at the chest-height seat.

  She gave another soft squeak when he caught her around the waist and lifted her into the truck, and Nicholas closed the door before she could see him grin at the realization that Julia Campbell’s eyes—their long lashes littered with snowflakes—were a rich hazel-gold. Feline eyes, he decided, with the potential to be warmly inviting one minute and stubbornly aloof the next.

  And wasn’t it interesting that he happened to like cats?

  He walked around the front of the truck and slid in behind the wheel, checked his side mirror, and pulled back onto the road. “You’ll have to tell me where you live,” he said into the silence broken only by the thump of the windshield wipers.

  “Just a few miles on the right. Um…thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He pulled off one of his gloves with his teeth and turned up the heater fan, then held out his hand to her. “Nicholas.”

  She hesitated, shook his hand without taking off her own glove, then went back to hugging her purse to her chest. “Julia.”

  What Nicholas liked most—and ironically least—about cats was their fierce independence, while he considered their most endearing quality to be their general lack of vocalization. And although he only suspected Julia Campbell could be stubbornly independent, judging by her determination to walk home in a snowstorm rather than ask a coworker for a ride, she was also proving to be a woman of few words. “How long have you worked at Nova Mare?”

  “Since May.”

  Only six months. “And before then?”

  “I waited tables at The Drunken Moose weekends and worked at my family’s cedar mill through the week.”

  Wow, a whole sentence. “So were you living here when the mountains moved and the earthquake turned Bottomless Lake into an inland sea three and a half years ago?”

  “No, I was living just north of Bangor. But we felt the earthquake down there.”

  “You work in housekeeping, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Nicholas felt his jaw clenching again with a whole new appreciation of the women who complained that talking to him was like pulling teeth, and tried to decide what about this particular woman was bugging him. “You enjoy working at Nova Mare?”

  “Very much,” she said, adding a slight nod when she obviously heard the edge in his voice. “Mrs. Oceanus is a wonderful boss. That mailbox is my road.” She set her hand on the door handle. “You can drop me off here. I live only a short ways in.”

  Nicholas turned onto the road and kept going, stifling another grin when he heard his passenger release a barely perceptible sigh. “It looks as if your days of riding a bicycle to work are coming to an end. You don’t own a car?”

  “I…It’s being repaired.”

  Must be quite a major repair, since Rowan had told him Julia had been pedaling to work for months now—except on Fridays, when she apparently borrowed her brother’s truck to bring her kindling and pine cones. And the woman’s idea of a short ways was an understatement, considering he’d already driven down the rutted forest road over a mile without seeing any signs of a house yet.

  And he still couldn’t figure out what was bugging him. It wasn’t anything she was saying or not saying or doing, just that something was…off. Not that it was any of his business, since he was only making sure one of their employees made it home without getting run over by a snowplow.

  She really was as quiet as a cat, and just as— That was it; Julia Campbell wasn’t moving. She didn’t fidget, hadn’t pushed back her hood or even wiped the melting snow off her face, and had managed to avoid any real eye contact with him. Nor had she questioned his showing up to give her a ride or protested his manhandling.

  Nicholas felt his gut tighten with the knowledge that the first defense an abused woman learned was how not to draw attention to herself—especially unsolicited male attention. For the love of Zeus, she’d let a virtual stranger toss her into his truck without even so much as a scowl.

  Granted, everyone who had anything to do with Nova Mare knew him on sight, and Julia probably figured that if she couldn’t trust her employer’s chief security guard then she couldn’t trust anyone, but she should have at least questioned why he’d intervened in the parking lot today and taken her home without even asking.

  So, did Julia Campbell simply pick her battles, or was she afraid of men?

  Not that it was any of his business.

  He finally spotted the house setting two miles off the main road, and pulled up behind a fairly new pickup that was as muddy as her brother’s. He shut off the engine when he saw the porch light come on, then quickly reach over when Julia opened her door. “Wait and let me help you down,” he said, getting out and walking around the front of the truck, not surprised when she didn’t protest. “I’ve been meaning to have a set of running boards installed,” he continued, guiding her to the ground. “Careful, there’s ice under the snow. Let me get your bicycle out of the back and I’ll walk you—”

  “Julia! That you, girl?” a heavy-set man called out as he came down the porch steps wearing slippers and no coat and carrying a tall glass in his hand. “Who’s that with you? You send him away and tell the fool we close at noon on Fri—”

  “Daddy, be careful!” Julia cried, bolting for the house when the man missed the bottom step.

  Nicholas dropped the bicycle and ran after Julia as her father stumbled toward a tree only to end up sprawled facedown in the snow—pulling Julia down with him when she tried to break
his fall.

  In what was starting to feel like a comedy of errors, Nicholas ended up in a small tug-of-war when the man tried using her to pull himself up before Nicholas finally wrestled Julia free and stood her out of the way. “Let me help you,” he said, catching the man under the arms and lifting him to his feet.

  “I told that Christless girl to spread the stove ashes out here this morning,” the man grumbled, staggering forward to hug the tree he’d missed earlier. “And where in hell is she, anyway? She’s supposed to come straight home from school and cook me supper.” He pointed at Julia as she straightened from picking up her purse. “It’s your fault. Ever since you gave her that truck, she ain’t never home.”

  Julia shot an uneasy glance toward Nicholas then walked to her father. “Trisha told you she had band practice this afternoon,” she explained just as a small SUV pulled up beside Nicholas’s truck. “There she is now. Come on, Daddy, let’s go inside and I’ll cook you some eggs and pork.”

  Her father batted her away. “I spilt my drink,” he growled, pointing at the empty plastic tumbler on the ground. He then glared up at Nicholas. “And I ain’t going nowhere ’til I meet your boyfriend.”

  “Jules,” a young woman said, rushing up only to slip on the ice and grab Julia’s arm. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  “Both you girls are due for an attitude adjustment,” their father snarled, his eyes narrowed against the swirling snow as he pointed an unsteady finger at them. “And don’t either of you think I won’t do it, either, just ’cause it’s been a while.”

  Nicholas once again forced his jaw to relax, this time also having to unball his fists as he stepped up to the obviously inebriated man. “Let me help you to the house, Mr. Campbell,” he politely offered, his grip—and likely his size—squelching any protest.

  “I expect a man wanting to date my daughter to ask me first,” he muttered as Nicholas maneuvered him up the steps.

  “I’m not dating Julia, sir. I just gave her a ride home from work.”

  The man yanked to a stop at the door and pulled free, the porch light revealing his bloodshot glare. “You think you’re too good for my Julia, is that it?”

  “Dad,” the woman under discussion hissed, opening the door.

  “Come on, Daddy,” her sister said, pushing on her father as Julia pulled. “Let’s get you inside before you catch a chill.”

  Mr. Campbell shrugged off both girls, then grabbed Julia’s arm and gave her a shake. “This is why you can’t get another man,” he growled. “And why you lost the good one you had. How many times I gotta tell you to show some proper gratitude when a man’s nice to you.” He pushed her in front of Nicholas. “I say driving you home in a snowstorm deserves a kiss.”

  Julia and her sister gasped in unison and Nicholas stiffened at the realization the man was serious. And if Julia’s father had placed her in an untenable position, he’d put Nicholas in a quandary. If he simply turned and walked away, the drunken idiot would likely get angry at her. And if he leaned down, instead of slapping his face she’d feel compelled to kiss him.

  “And not some shy peck on the cheek, either,” Mr. Campbell continued, nudging his frozen daughter hard enough that she stumbled forward.

  “Daddy,” her sister growled, grabbing Julia’s jacket to tug her back.

  Well, hell. Nicholas pulled Julia into his arms, lowered his head as he lifted her onto her toes, and kissed her—making sure to linger just long enough to satisfy the bastard that she was properly grateful. “You’re welcome,” he murmured as he released her and straightened away. He gave a slight bow then turned and walked down the steps, got in his truck, and backed around and drove out the road.

  Definitely not his business, he decided as he touched his tongue to his lips—which he noticed now held a taste of peppermint.