Storming Whitehorn. Christine Scott

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      She looked up to see her mother approaching the front desk. This afternoon Celeste looked more like her old self. A healthy flush colored her cheeks and dressed in a tea-colored tunic and loose-fitting pants, she looked relaxed and at ease for the first time in days. Jasmine hated the idea of disrupting her fleeting moment of peace. “It was Summer,” she admitted.

      “Summer? Is everything all right? The baby isn’t sick, is she?”

      “No, nothing like that…it’s just—” She stopped, struggling to find the right words. Knowing there was no easy way to break the news, she said, “Storm Hunter called. He wants to meet with her.”

      The healthy color drained from Celeste’s face. She sat heavily on a tapestry-covered chair. “Oh, my. I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d seek her out. I suppose there’s no avoiding it.”

      “He is her uncle,” she reminded her mother.

      “I know. Believe me, I know.” Her hands shook as she brushed a strand of russet hair from her face. She took in a deep, cleansing breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. “I only wish Summer didn’t have to face him alone.”

      “She’s not,” Jasmine said carefully. “I’m going over to her house now. She’s asked me to be with her when he arrives.”

      Her mother surged to her feet. “Absolutely not. I don’t want you anywhere near that man.”

      Jasmine blinked, stunned by the outburst. “Mother, you can’t be serious.”

      “I’m deadly serious. The man’s a Hunter. He belongs to a family that has brought us nothing but heart ache. I forbid you to see him.”

      “You forbid me?” Jasmine’s voice rose in self-righteous indignation. Since she had returned to the B and B and had taken over all of the kitchen duties, her mother had been treating her as an adult, with respect and admiration. Having Celeste now treat her like a strong-willed teenager was devastating to her ego. “Mother, I’m not a child. I’m twenty-three years old. You can’t send me to my room if I don’t want to do what you tell me.”

      “Believe me, if I thought it would do any good, I’d try,” her mother said, releasing an exasperated breath. “When it comes to men, you haven’t paid attention to me in years. Not since you filled out your first training bra.”

      Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Mother, really, would you listen to yourself? Since when have you been distrustful? Storm may be a Hunter, but so is Summer. Are we supposed to abandon her, just because you don’t approve of the other half of her family?”

      Celeste took in a sharp breath, seemingly shocked by the question. “You know I’d never abandon Summer. I’ve raised her since she was just a baby. I love her as much as I love you and Cleo.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “If Summer needs our support, then we will give it to her.”

      Jasmine felt the tension ease from her muscles. Finally, she told herself, they were making progress.

      The thought had no more than surfaced when her mother threw another curve at her self-esteem. With her brow furrowed into a tight frown, Celeste said, “But that doesn’t mean it has to be you, Jasmine. Surely David or Cleo could be with Summer.”

      “Mother,” she said, her tone a warning note. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t suggest that.”

      Jasmine was confused and hurt by her mother’s sudden lack of confidence. She didn’t understand what was wrong. Normally a very liberal, open-minded person, Celeste had raised her daughters to be free-spirited and independent. It wasn’t like her to be so overly protective. But then again, Celeste hadn’t been acting normal since the Hunter family had resurfaced in their lives. Jasmine truly doubted that, if she were to meet anyone but Storm Hunter, her mother would care.

      “Mother, I love you,” she said, struggling to remain calm, “and I will always respect your concern and advice. But this time you’re wrong. Summer needs me. And I’m going to help her, whether you approve or not.”

      Without waiting for a reply, she gave her mother a quick hug goodbye and hurried out the door. Midway to her Jeep Wrangler, her heart was still pounding and the muscles in her legs felt like jelly. She’d never felt so awful. This was the first major disagreement she’d ever had with her mother. A disagreement over a man, of all things.

      But not just any man, she told herself as she rested her hand on the door of her Jeep. A man whose mutual history had had such a devastating affect upon their family. Storm Hunter.

      Chapter Three

      “Are you sure you want to do this?” Jasmine asked. She studied the delicate lines of her cousin’s pensive face as she rocked her step daughter, Alyssa, in her arms.

      Summer didn’t answer right away. Instead she glanced down at the sleeping child, her gaze softening. Jasmine envied the look of maternal pride shimmering in her dark brown eyes. Quietly Summer said, “Storm is the last of my father’s family. It’s time we finally met.”

      “Right,” Jasmine said, not bothering to hide the doubtfulness from her tone. She glanced at her wristwatch for the second time in as many minutes. “If and when he shows up, that is.”

      Storm was late. He should have arrived thirty minutes ago. Jasmine wished she didn’t have to voice the concern she knew Summer shared. That Storm had changed his mind. That he wasn’t going to come, after all.

      “He’ll be here,” Summer said, her voice firm with conviction.

      Jasmine sighed. “I wish I could be as certain of this meeting as you are. I’m not sure I’d be quite as for giving of an uncle who’d ignored my existence for twenty-nine years.”

      “I’m sure he had his reasons, Jasmine. What matters is that he’s making the effort now,” Summer murmured. She stood, gathering Alyssa close. “I need to put Alyssa in bed for her nap. I won’t be long.”

      Jasmine nodded, resisting the urge to sigh again. Instead she rose to her feet and began pacing the floor. Her protective instincts billowed inside her. She swore, if Storm Hunter didn’t show up after putting her cousin through all this turmoil, the man would have to answer to her.

      She stopped, frowning as she reconsidered the threat. For some reason she didn’t picture Storm as a man who answered to anyone, let alone an irate woman who barely stood higher than his chin.

      The doorbell rang, jarring her out of her skeptical thoughts. Jasmine jumped at the sound, her stomach knotting with unwanted tension. She took in a quick breath and released it with a whoosh, trying to relieve some of her pent-up anxiety. She was being ridiculous, she chided herself. Summer was the one who should be nervous, not her.

      Speaking of whom…where was Summer? Jasmine glanced down the hall and saw no sign of her cousin. Swallowing hard at the lump of trepidation that had stuck in her throat, she forced herself to move. Her hand shook as she reached for the knob. Pasting a polite smile on her face, she opened the door to greet the newcomer.

      Storm’s brooding scowl stopped her. With a quick glance that grazed her from head to toe, he demanded, “Where’s Summer? I was expecting your cousin, not you.”

      Jasmine’s smile faded to a grimace. Through СКАЧАТЬ