“No end in sight, huh?” Mason shifted his weight and turned toward a wall of windows that overlooked Willow Lake and the woods beyond. He’d wished for snow only days ago and had received that wish in spades. Drifts at least a foot high covered the length of the lake’s rocky shore. “It sure is something to look at, though.”
“Yes, it is.” Ryder settled into the armchair beside the couch as Ali approached with Rory snuggled in her arms. She paused long enough to plant a kiss soundly on Ryder’s lips before she climbed the stairs to the nursery to put Rory down for the night.
“You’re happy, aren’t you?” Mason asked when she’d left.
“More than.” The look in Ryder’s eyes spoke volumes. “God has blessed me beyond my wildest imagination. Ali is amazing. And Rory…”
“I’m thrilled for you. I always pictured the two of you together. Strange how things turn out, isn’t it?”
“All in God’s time.” Ryder’s gaze drifted to Josie. “Funny how the two of you have found your way back to each other, too.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way…not exactly.” The few remaining guests had disbursed, retiring to their rooms for the night. In the stacked stone fireplace, flames had flickered to glowing embers. “She’s a little…skittish.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Good as can be expected, considering I came close to breaking one of the sacred commandments today.” Mason lowered Josie into his lap and stroked the hair back from her forehead as she gasped softly through a faraway dream. “I wanted to strangle Simms. When I saw him grab Josie…when I realized what might have happened if I hadn’t seen him headed toward the book store. If I had been a few minutes later…”
“I know what you mean. I went through something similar with Ali when that creep, John Larder, came sniffing around. I thought we’d seen the worst with that bully of a family, but I guess I was wrong.” He rubbed his hands together and leaned toward the smoking embers. “Maybe this will put an end to it.”
“It better.”
“It’s good to have you back…and Hunter, too. He and Maci plan to marry next month. The wedding’s going to be here.”
“So I heard.” Mason shook his head. “First you and Ali with a baby, now Hunter and Maci. It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“Crazy and wonderful, all rolled together.”
Mason lowered his voice. “Does Ali ever talk about Josh…about what happened that day?”
“Of course she does.” Ryder lifted a framed photo from the side table and brushed his fingers across the glass. “She misses him. We all do. But the memories, for the most part, are good.”
“It still tears me up to think about it. I’m covered in guilt about what happened, like I might have done more.”
“You shouldn’t be. You couldn’t have. It was an accident and nothing can change that. Don’t look back, just move forward.”
“That’s what Josie said, too.”
“Smart woman.” Ryder set the photo back on the table. “How long are you planning to stay?”
“I promised Josie I’d help her remodel Posts and Pages. After that, I don’t know.”
“Well, the sooner you figure it out, the better for both of you.” Ryder stood. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way. Now, you’d both better get some sleep.”
When he left, Mason gathered Josie in his arms, blanket and all, and carried her toward the stairs. Careful not to jostle her, he made his way to the inn’s second level where the guest rooms were located. Three doors down on the right he found his room just as he’d left it that morning. He pushed open the door to see moonlight filter through a break in the clouds, casting a milky glow across tangled bed sheets.
Josie, wrapped like a burrito in his arms, yawned and stretched. “Mason…where are we?” Her eyes fluttered open, and then quickly slipped closed once again.
“Go back to sleep.”
“I have to go home.”
“In the morning.”
“I can’t spend the night in here.” Her eyes slipped open once again. She wiggled, pressing a palm to his chest. “Let me down so I can go back to the couch.”
“No way. You’re sleeping here.” He carefully set her in the middle of the bed. “And I’m grabbing Z’s on the couch.”
“Oh, right…” She rolled over and tugged his pillow to her chin as he covered her, clothes and all, with a thick, down comforter. She yawned hugely. “Sleep well, Mason. I love you.”
He paused, the words echoing like a waterfall in his ears. For a moment, he stopped breathing, afraid he’d imagined her gentle murmur. Then he eased to the edge of the bed and gave her shoulder a gentle nudge.
“Josie?”
The question was met with a hushed sigh as she slipped back into a dream. Mason frowned, not sure what to make of things. Was she even aware of what she’d said? Would she remember those three simple—yet powerful—words in the morning?
Mason tugged the throw blanket from beneath her and closed the window blinds before backing out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He backtracked quietly through the shadowed hall and down the stairs to the couch. A chill filled the great room and he shivered, crossing his arms tight over his chest as he padded over to the hearth. He added a few logs to the embers, grabbed the poker, and stoked the fire to a roaring blaze once again. Stretching out along the sofa, his feet dangling over the arm, he sighed and wished for a second blanket. Sleep would be a long time coming tonight.
8
Mason set the Skill saw on the floor and shook sawdust from his hair. The sweet scent of lumber, both familiar and oddly comforting, mingled with dust motes that danced through light. Heat from sunshine spilling over the display window he’d just installed at Posts and Pages warmed his back through a navy T-shirt, and one glance in the direction of the bustling street told him last week’s monster snowstorm was all but forgotten. The boulevard was clear of the white stuff and the last of stubborn icicles dripped along gutters to disappear into sewer drains. The temperature had climbed to a balmy fifty-five degrees and held—perfect weather for a construction project.
“Wow, this looks great.” Josie strode into the room, carrying a carton of paperbacks. “All this space…it’s lovely.”
“I’m going to finish the shelving by day’s end.” Mason took the box from her and set it on the counter. “That will give you even more display room.”
“You’re fast.” She smiled, but the light didn’t quite meet her eyes. “At this rate you’ll be done by the end of the week.”
“I can’t take all the credit.” He wondered if she felt as off-kilter as he did. Since the snowy night at the inn he felt like he’d come to the end of a chapter where a couple pages were missing, leaving him wondering. “Ryder’s in a down time now at work so he stopped by this morning to help. You just missed him.”
“My errands ran longer than expected. I took a quick detour to the grocery store, too.” She stroked a spatter of sawdust from his cheek, causing his pulse to kick into overdrive. “We were out of coffee and since I was there, I picked up a couple of steaks. I thought you might want to come over for dinner tonight.”
“Are you asking me out?”
“Uh-uh.” She grinned impishly. “I’m asking you
in
. On one condition, though—you do the grilling.”
“Next thing I know, you’ll have me washing the dishes, too.”
“My dishwasher is on the fritz, so…” The grin turned to laughter. “Since you mentioned it…”
“I put my foot down at drying, though.” Mason flicked one of the silver teardrop earrings that dangled from her lobes. He wanted more, so much more, but he held his emotions by the reins. Each night while he lay in bed waiting for sleep to claim him he heard her voice—the three words she’d murmured as he covered her with the comforter—over and over again. She’d never mentioned those words again though, not in the entire week since then. Life was business as usual around Willow Lake, whatever that meant. His finger slipped from her earring to graze her cheek. “I have to run out to Hunter’s first. He mentioned something about a bid on the City Hall’s expansion. He wants to go over the details and see if the project fits into my schedule.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“Maybe. As long as you don’t work me to death here.” He stepped away from her and drew a carpenter’s pencil from his tool belt, measured a mark on a two-by-four, and reached for the saw. As he engaged the blade, Josie covered her ears at the grating shriek. Mason laughed and shouted over the commotion. “In the meantime, I could use a cup of coffee, heavy on the cream.”
****
“Those are some steaks.” Mason motioned to the thick-cut T-bones marinating in a glass baking dish on Josie’s kitchen counter. “Did you go out and kill the fatted calf?”
“Hardly.” She tossed him an impish grin. “I just know your appetite. Nothing’s safe from the clutches of your cavernous belly.”
“Ouch.” But he patted his stomach, grinning. “I can’t help it if I enjoy my food.”
“I suppose not.” She removed a bowl of salad from the fridge. Music drifted from a radio on the counter as Kenny Chesney crooned about the good stuff. Mason knew all about the good stuff—he was living it right here with Josie. “I remembered the dressing you like.”
“Peppercorn ranch?”
“That’s right. Homemade, too.” She set the bowl on the table, added two settings of plates and silverware.
“That sounds great. You don’t forget much, do you?”
“No.” As she crossed back to the fridge, he caught the subtle scent of her perfume—musky and filled with sass. Her sable hair, shimmering beneath sunlight that spilled through an over-sink window, was gathered back in a silver butterfly clip that illuminated the blue of her eyes. “Sweet tea OK?”
“Perfect.” He nodded and reached for the steaks as his heart morphed from muscle to a cluster of nerves. “I’d better get these on the grill. Just point me in the right direction.”
“The grill’s out there.” Josie nodded toward double French doors. “On the deck. I lit the coals a while ago, so they should be good to go.”
“Coal instead of propane, huh?” Mason was pleased. Nothing beat the flavor of a steak slow-grilled over charcoal. His belly cried out in anticipation, easing his pulse down a notch. “I’m impressed.”
“I’ll bring your tea in a minute.”
“Take your time.”
Mason slipped through the doors and onto the small, neat patio where the coals of a small grill sent smoke curling into the late-afternoon sunlight. The temperature had held and even climbed a bit more since he’d called it a day at Posts and Pages and headed to meet Hunter to discuss the City Hall project. Joined with the heat of the coals, the air was mild and pleasant.
He tossed the steaks onto the grill’s grate and grinned with satisfaction as the meat began to sizzle. The rich aroma of beef swirled around him, making his mouth water. Through the glass doors, he watched Josie pour two glasses of tea and garnish each with a wedge of orange—her favorite. She called herself clumsy but he knew the truth—she moved with a fluid ease that was pure grace. She was beautiful in every way, yet she had no idea.
She’d worked hard to give the small house a warm, homey feel. Walls covered with earthen tones calmed those who entered, while potted plants carried a splash of green. A collage of photos—a testament to friends, family and fun—tacked to the fridge were proof that Josie belonged here in Willow Lake.
Where did he belong? He’d once thought the answer to that was Atlanta—the very place where he’d nurtured the business of his dreams into something more than he ever hoped it might be. But somehow, that wasn’t enough. The thought of returning to the city filled him with a sense of sadness and disappointment. There had to be more to his life than work—even work that had grown into such an unfathomable success.
He turned toward Josie as she stepped onto the patio, bringing the music with her.
****
“We must be crazy to grill in this weather.” Josie handed him a glass of tea, then set hers on a small wrought iron table beside a single lounge chair. She tugged the belt of her chunky cardigan tighter. “But the steaks sure smell good. I think I have spring fever.”
“So does your garden.” Mason took a swig of his tea and then set his glass down beside hers. “Looks like something’s beginning to bloom.”
A splash of yellow caught Josie’s attention. “Oh, my!” she gasped. “That’s your mom’s rose bush.”
“My mom’s?”
“Yes, but it’s impossible. It’s way too early for blooms and with the recent snow...”
“Tell the plant that.” Mason smirked. “What do you mean, it’s my mom’s?”
“You’ll probably think it’s silly.”
“Why would I think that?” He sat on the lounge chair and patted the cushion, drawing her to join him. “Tell me how those knock-out roses came to be.”
“Well…when I bought this house and moved in, I guess I felt a bit reminiscent.” Josie eased onto the cushion beside him. “Four walls, a roof, and no family. My parents had just moved to Portland. I guess missing them made me think a lot about your mom, and how much you must have missed her when she was gone. I remembered how she used to bake those fabulous oatmeal-raisin cookies for us to snack on while we studied. Despite the fact that your dad was gone all the time your mom made your house feel like home.”
“It was hard. Dad worked so much. It really hurt to know Mom and I weren’t his priority. But Mom…she was always there. It was so hard when she got sick, and after.”
Josie shifted her weight to face him. “Every time I see the roses bloom I think of her…and you.”
The steaks sizzled and juices hissed as they splattered against the coals. Mason stood to flip them as the music drifted. When he turned back to Josie his eyes were round and so dark with emotion that the chill left her. She melted as he reached for her hand and tugged her to her feet, drawing her toward him.
“May I?”
“What?” The word was barely a whisper.
“Dance with you.”
“Yes.”
The breath rushed from her as Mason placed his hand on the small of her back, coaxing her to join him as he swayed along with the music. Mingling with the clean scent of his aftershave, she swore she smelled the sweet aroma of roses. She pressed her head to his chest and felt his heartbeat, steady and true. In the distance, a flock of birds, lured by the warmth, began to chatter.