Without waiting, Hope turned for the door.
“See you later, Hope,” Courtney said cheerfully. She had a lot more to be cheerful about than Hope. Courtney wasn’t going to have to pull down cobwebs, mop floors, and swab toilets.
Hope just gave a wave as she walked out the door.
When Donovan caught up to her he said, “I didn’t know Courtney was coming by.” He didn’t owe Hope an explanation, yet he kept going. “She just showed up out of the blue.”
“Sure.” Hope didn’t say it sarcastically, but he wouldn’t blame her if she had. It seemed too coincidental for Courtney to be there, even to him.
“She brought tile for me to look at,” he added.
“Oh, then you did find an interior decorator. Good for you.” She patted him on the arm, this time being sardonic.
“No.” He rolled his eyes, trying not to let it register that Hope had touched him. Through his coat, he could still feel the weight of her hand. “Courtney’s okay, but she’s the last person I’d want to decorate the lodge.”
When was the last time Hope had touched him? He pushed the thought from his mind. Shoved it hard . . . like thinking about Hope’s touch could be contagious.
They’d made it to Wandering Moose Cabin. The tiny porch was rotted, more so than the back porch of the lodge. “Be careful.” And to make sure, he took Hope’s elbow to keep her from falling through the steps.
She looked up at him, clearly insulted. “I’m not an invalid.”
“I know. I’m just not sure what the insurance covers.” Which was something he’d better find out.
He pried open the scratched and broken door, then went in first in case something was waiting for them. “Well, here it is.”
The place was in utter disarray. The beds were tossed and the table toppled as if Papa Bear had been there, something he’d have to ask Mr. Brewster about. Everything was coated in dust, a broken window let in the cold October weather, and there was a hole in the floor where animals had certainly crawled through. The bear probably scared them away. This was too much for Hope to handle on her own, something he should’ve bothered to check sooner. The structure seemed sound, but the place needed a lot of work. He would have to hire a professional to put the cabin back to rights.
“Here.” She took the bucket from him. “You have a guest. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Donovan, not in a hurry to get back to Courtney, pushed open the bathroom door, thinking he could stall a bit longer. He jumped as a squirrel scampered through another broken pane. He slammed the door shut. “Don’t worry about the bathroom right now. I’ll have to get that window fixed first.” He’d ask Rick to pick up panes at the hardware store while he was in Anchorage. Back in the day, Donovan would’ve had to travel no farther than Sweet Home to get a windowpane from A Stone’s Throw Hardware & Haberdashery. But that was the past.
“What happened in there?” Hope asked.
“A bear might’ve broken it,” he mumbled, not wanting to admit that a squirrel had frightened him. But mentioning the bear reminded him. “You will be careful while you’re here, won’t you?”
“A few rotten boards don’t frighten me,” she said.
“I’m talking about the wildlife,” he clarified.
“You really have been away too long. You’ve forgotten that Alaskans deal with wildlife on a daily basis, especially us out in the bush.”
“Maybe.” Or perhaps he’d worked hard over the years to block out his life in Alaska. If he was being fair, the past hadn’t been all bad.
“What do you want to do about the beds?” Hope said. “I assume you’ll be getting new mattresses.”
“Yes. A complete overhaul. The beds have seen better days.”
Hope had rescued a dirty quilt from the floor and was folding it. “I’ll drag the mattresses to the end of the road and clean up in here.” Before he could comment, she was pulling the corner of one of the full-size mattresses.
“Here, let me help.” He grabbed another corner and they tugged it from the frame out to the porch. “I’ll get it to the end of the road later.”
He followed her back inside and saw that on the floor, underneath the bed frame, was a Hot Wheels car.
Hope picked it up. “One of Beau’s?” She handed it to Donovan.
“Yeah.” Donovan’s chest squeezed uncomfortably as he gazed down at the Trans Am. “When we were little, Beau hid cars all over the lodge and cabins, thinking if we ever got snowed in, he’d never be bored.”
“He loved cars and had a great imagination.”
“Yes,” Donovan said. “So full of life.” And like that, the spell of happy memories was broken. “I better get back.”
“Sure. I’ll be here.” Hope kept her eyes down, not meeting his.
Donovan picked up the mattress and carried it back to the lodge. He didn’t want to deal with Courtney right now. But he went inside anyway. She was still at the dining table, but sitting down now with her knees crossed. She had legs that went on forever. But he wasn’t a leg man.
“Listen,” Donovan said. “Something’s come up.”
Courtney looked disappointed, as if she had drawn some conclusions.
“I need to head out,” Donovan clarified.
“Should I take the tile with me?” she asked all doe-eyed.
“No. Leave them. I’ll take a look later.” But he already knew he would never swap the hardwood floors for tile.
“You have my number. Give me a call later?” Courtney said with her eyebrows raised.
He didn’t respond but looked around searchingly. “Where’s Boomer?”
“Oh, he was whining, so I let him out,” Courtney said.
“What? Alone?” What had she been thinking? Boomer was helpless and a perfect-sized snack for a wandering bear.
“I set him out front. Didn’t you see him when you came in?” She was acting like it was Donovan’s fault.
He hurried out front. “Boomer! Boomer!”
Hope ran out of Wandering Moose Cabin. “What’s going on?”
“Courtney let Boomer out on his own,” he hollered back. “Help me find him.”
But she was already coming his direction, looking between the other two cabins as she ran.
He noticed that Courtney had come out on the porch, but she just stood there. She wouldn’t be any help anyway in her heels.
Hope caught up to him. “Have you looked around back?”
The river! If Boomer fell in and got trapped under the ice . . .
Hope squeezed his arm. “We’ll find him.”
They both ran behind the lodge. He didn’t see Boomer. He hurried to the water’s edge and looked at the ice on top and the river current roiling beneath.
But Hope was no longer at his side. Her legs were sticking out from under the shortest part of the deck. She was on her belly.
“What are you doing?” he said, hurrying over to her.
“Shh,” she said. “I thought I heard something.” She scooted farther under.
He heard it, too. There was a faint whimpering.
“I’ve got him,” Hope said. Then there was a pause. “I can’t move with my arms full. Donovan, you’re going to have to pull me out by my legs to get me and Boomer out of here.”
“Hold on.” He latched onto her ankles and gently tugged. He could hear her making cooing noises to Boomer to calm him down until he finally pulled the two of them to freedom.
She rolled to her side and lifted Boomer up. “Go to Daddy.”
Donovan took Boomer and held him tight. “You scared me, little buddy. But I’m glad you hid under there, where you were safe.”
That was when Donovan realized Hope wasn’t wearing her coat! Her sweatshirt and jeans were covered in leaves, dirt, and snow, and her face was smudged as if she’d rolled around under there on p
urpose. But she was grinning at him, and the sight of her was the best thing he’d seen in years. He couldn’t help himself; he hugged her, the puppy between them. Then he did the stupidest thing. He kissed her. Just a thank-you kiss. But instantly it felt like so much more.
Familiar. Like sunshine. Or hot cocoa on a cold day. But most of all, goodness.
Kissing Hope felt more right than any other kiss he’d had in seventeen years. But Hope had killed Beau, tilted Donovan’s world out of place to the point he hadn’t recognized it. How could kissing her now make his world click back into place? Wonderful memories . . . and pain. The good mixing with the bad.
It was wrong on so many levels to kiss Hope now. Beau’s laughter was gone. His grandmother’s loving smile, too. Donovan awkwardly pulled away. Hope touched her lips, looking uncomfortable.
He focused on the one thing that would save him from this moment: Boomer is okay!
“Thanks for saving him.” He rubbed Boomer’s head, avoiding her eyes. “I’ve really gotten attached to the little runt.”
“You always did love Berners.” She shivered.
Donovan put his hand to her back. “Go. Get inside and get warmed up by the fire.”
She must’ve been freezing because she hurried away. When they came around the corner, Courtney was almost to her car with her designer purse looped over her arm. She halted. “Hope, good lands, what happened to you?”
“She rescued Boomer from under the back deck,” Donovan said proudly.
Courtney looked repulsed. “You’re a mess.”
Donovan didn’t care what Hope looked like. He couldn’t help himself; he picked a leaf out of her hair. “Get inside, Hope.”
He turned back to Courtney. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He didn’t wait to see if she had more to say, but instead followed Hope into the lodge.
Those few steps gave him a short moment to reflect, but it wasn’t enough time. He didn’t know why he’d kissed Hope. Surely it was a knee-jerk reaction. He should’ve stepped away after the hug.
But Hope had found Boomer! And he’d lost so much . . . just like her . . . which was something he’d never thought of before.
Chapter 10
HOPE STOPPED JUST inside the doorway and spoke to Donovan without turning around. Without gazing at his face.
“Look, just give me a moment to warm up. Then I’ll get back to work on Wandering Moose Cabin.”
She still couldn’t believe he’d hugged her. Kissed her! Of course, it was for no other reason than she found Boomer. But apparently, her pounding heart believed what it wanted to believe and hadn’t gotten the memo that Donovan didn’t want her anymore.
It had been so long since she’d been in a man’s arms. This man. The only one she’d ever loved, the reason her heart was doing triple time now. Her body remembered Donovan and had wanted to mold herself around him. But Donovan wasn’t hers anymore.
“Go back outside and catch Courtney.” Hope picked up Boomer as the puppy was trotting for the kitchen. She needed someone to calm her down, and Boomer would do. “I know you two have business to take care of. I’ll be out of here in a second.”
She started to walk toward the hearth, which was putting off plenty of BTUs. But she was stopped when Donovan laid both of his hands on her shoulders and spun her around.
He bent his knees so he could look into her eyes. Was he trying to slay her right here? It certainly felt like it.
“Warm up, then take the rest of the day off,” he insisted.
She shook her head, kind of mesmerized.
“Full pay, of course,” Donovan said. “You deserve it for what you just did.”
He let go of her and removed Boomer from her arms. “Boomer probably needs a big gulp of water after the harrowing experience he just went through.” Donovan rubbed his face into Boomer’s neck. “Poor little guy. But you’re safe now. Thanks to Hope.” Then he set the puppy on his feet.
She couldn’t stop staring at Donovan. In this moment, he was the boy from her past who loved Bernese Mountain Dogs. The boy she’d sworn to love for all eternity.
Donovan pointed to the hearth. “Go. Get warm.”
She scurried to the hearth, putting her hands out to soak in the heat roiling off the fire.
“Marshmallows or no marshmallows?” Donovan called from the kitchen. Apparently, he’d forgotten how she liked her hot cocoa.
“Marshmallows, please,” she said.
But she felt jumpy and knew she couldn’t stay near him any longer. The hug—oh my gosh, the kiss—had been more than enough sugar for one day! She hurried to the kitchen. “You know what, forget the cocoa. I’m fine now. I’m heading back to the cabin.”
Donovan was there instantly, shrugging out of his own coat. “You’re still as stubborn as ever. At least take my coat,” he said, holding it out to her.
She pushed it back. “I can’t. I’m filthy. It’s only a short jog to the cabin. I’ll be fine.”
Just then, the Hot Wheels car tumbled from his pocket, making them both go still. Making them both remember that Hope was the one who’d ended Beau’s life. At least that was how Hope saw it.
She slipped past Donovan to the other side of the living room, to the door. He didn’t say another word to stop her. As far as she knew, he might still be staring at Beau’s car.
As Hope ran to Wandering Moose Cabin, she brushed off her arms and chest as best she could. She probably should’ve taken Donovan’s coat, because she was going to be dirtying up her own coat pretty badly. And it was the only coat she owned. Donovan probably had a closetful.
Back inside the cabin, she was thankful it was semi-warm, thanks to the baseboard heaters. She took off her sweatshirt and shook it outside, wearing just her thermal top. Then she grabbed the broom and vigorously swept the floor, counting on the exertion to warm her up. She had just begun to whisk the dirt into the corner when she heard a car leaving. She pulled back the dusty curtains, which nearly disintegrated in her hand, and saw Donovan’s SUV pulling away from the lodge. For some stupid reason, it made her feel lonely. She thought about running back to the lodge to get Boomer, but knowing Donovan, he’d taken his dog with him.
Unfortunately, being alone made her mind wander to places it shouldn’t. Even though she tried to put Donovan behind a Do Not Disturb door, she couldn’t stop from peeking in, thinking about all she’d lost because of one awful moment long ago.
By noon, Wandering Moose Cabin was still a wreck but cleared of debris. Hope headed home for lunch, something she never had to worry about when she was working at the Hungry Bear. Now, she’d have to remember to pack a lunch every day. Just another reason it sucked that she was stuck working for Donovan Stone.
Once at home, she took a quick shower to get the rest of the dirt and leaves out of her hair. She blow-dried it quickly, dressed in a clean sweater, and then had the last spoonful of leftover soup and a few crackers she found in an open baggie at the back of the pantry. On the way home from Donovan’s today, she’d have to run by the Hungry Bear and get her unpaid wages to buy some groceries. She wished she’d thought to ask Donovan how often she would be paid. Something a smart single mother would’ve done before she’d accepted the job.
Because there was still time left, she dug around in her fabric stash, which was tucked away in her closet, looking for something to replace the old curtains in Wandering Moose Cabin. She noticed something wedged between the box and the back wall, and was shocked when she pulled out the moose print fabric she hadn’t seen in years. She’d bought it to make pajama bottoms for Izzie for Christmas, but she’d procrastinated too long. She’d decided she’d give Izzie the pj’s for her upcoming birthday. But there had been no more birthdays for her sister. She remembered now that when she moved she’d tucked the fabric in the back of the closet so it wouldn’t be a reminder of the moose that had snatched Izzie�
��s years away from her.
Hope had a feeling that if she didn’t do something constructive with the fabric now, Izzie would nag her in her dreams tonight. Her sister would play the dead card and say that Hope shouldn’t bury the fabric . . . especially since she knew what it felt like to be buried. It wouldn’t be the first time Izzie had gone there. To avoid her sister’s chastisement, Hope spread out the fabric and measured. “Just enough to make the curtains and maybe a small throw pillow, too.” Donovan’s interior designer was probably going to hate it, but Hope decided to take the fabric back to the lodge to show him, assuming he had returned by the time she got there.
When she pulled into Home Sweet Home Lodge, Donovan’s car was there, alongside Rick’s. Rick had probably come back to pack a bag. If it had been any other two people, she’d have been sure they were yucking it up at her expense. Hope McKnight the housekeeper. She knew they weren’t mean like that, but Hope felt humiliated anyway.
She grabbed the moose fabric from the back seat and went to the lodge’s front door and knocked.
The door opened, and she smelled . . . was that pizza?
“Hey.” Donovan seemed in a better state of mind than when he’d left her earlier.
“A couple of questions,” she said. “First, what is it you want me to do this afternoon?” Hope couldn’t stop her mouth from watering at the scent of garlic.
“Come in.”
“In a second, I will.” She wanted to ask this next question in private. “Your flyer listed the hourly rate, but it didn’t say when or how often payday was.” She tried to sound casual. Tried not to sound desperate.
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
Daily! “Weekly would be fine,” she said.
“I’ll tell you what. Speak to Rick about whatever works for you. He likes to feel needed.” This last part Donovan said loudly over his shoulder.
He clearly had no idea how embarrassing all of this was for Hope.
“Don’t look like that,” Donovan said. “It’s Rick’s job. For the life of me, I don’t know why he gets a kick out of W-9s and such.”
One Snowy Night Page 13