The SEAL's Christmas Twins. Laura Marie Altom

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СКАЧАТЬ “One helluva blow.”

      “Yeah.” She swallowed back tears. “I’m here to pick up Alec’s parents.”

      “I’m grabbing Mason. It’ll be damn good to see him, though I wish our visit was under happier circumstances.”

      Mason will be here? Now? As in the next thirty seconds?

      Considering her sister had just died, fashion hadn’t topped her priorities. Hattie wore jeans, a faded Green Bay Packers sweatshirt a patron had left at her bar, and she’d crammed her hair into a messy bun—as for makeup, it hadn’t even occurred to her. Jeez, what is wrong with you? Why are you worried about how you look?

      She shook her head, suddenly feeling jittery.

      Sure, she’d known Mason would be coming for the funeral, but she’d assumed they wouldn’t run into each other until Saturday. This was too soon. What would she say or do?

      Whereas moments earlier grief had slowed her pulse, panic now caused it to race. She couldn’t see him. Not yet.

      And then an airline representative stole all options for possible escape by opening the doors. In strode Mason. Out went her last shred of confidence.

      She took a few steps back into a shadow. With luck, Mason wouldn’t even see her.

      The plan proved simple, yet effective, as Mason and his dad were soon caught up in their reunion.

      Two strangers entered the terminal, and then Alec’s parents. What were their thoughts about Mason having been on their flight? Or were they so absorbed in their grief, they hadn’t noticed?

      “Cindy? Taylor?” Hattie waved them over. “Hi. How was your flight?”

      Cindy’s eyes appeared red and sunken, her expression hollow. Taylor didn’t look much better.

      “It was fine,” Taylor said, “but we’re ready to call it a day.”

      “I understand. Should I get a cart for your luggage?”

      He shook his head. “We don’t have much.”

      “Okay, well...I’ll grab the twins, and we’ll be on our way.” Awkward didn’t begin to describe the moment, especially when she accidentally glanced in Mason’s direction, but he turned away. Purposely? She hoped not.

      * * *

      SUNDAY AFTERNOON MASON shoveled for all he was worth, but still couldn’t keep up with the mid-October snow. Located on the eastern shore of Prince William Sound, Conifer was known for impressive snowfalls. As an oblivious kid, he’d spent hours happily building forts and snowmen and, if he’d been really ambitious, even tunnels. Now he needed to dig out his dad’s old truck, carefully avoiding the passenger-side door, which was barely attached to the vehicle after it had been rammed by an angry plow driver some ten years earlier.

      His dad’s trailer was dwarfed by towering Sitka spruce. Mason used to like playing hide-and-seek in them. Now, having grown used to the open sea, the dark forest made him feel trapped.

      It had been six long years since he’d been home.

      Best as he could remember, he’d once enjoyed the whisper of wind through the boughs. Today, the world had fallen silent beneath the deepening blanket of snow. If pressed, he’d have to admit the evergreen and ice-laced air smelled damned good. Fresh and clean—the way his life used to be.

      “This is the last place I expected to see you.”

      “Same could be said of you.” Mason glanced toward the familiar voice to find little Hattie Beaumont all grown up. He’d seen her in the airport when he’d come in, but with Alec’s parents having been there, the timing was all wrong for any kind of meaningful conversation. That morning, at the funeral, hadn’t been much better. “Not a great day for an afternoon stroll.”

      “I like it.” At the funeral, he’d been so preoccupied, he hadn’t fully absorbed the fact that the former tomboy had matured into a full-on looker. She was part Inuit, and the snow falling on her long dark hair struck him as beautiful. Her brown eyes lacked her usual mischievous sparkle, but then, given the circumstances, he supposed that was to be expected. “Feels good getting out of the house.”

      “Agreed.” He rested his gloved hands on the shovel’s handle. “Snow expected to stop anytime soon?”

      “Mom says we could see ten inches by morning.”

      “Swell.” Around here, pilots flew through just about anything Mother Nature blew their way, but a major storm could put a kink in his plans to fly out first thing in the morning.

      “We still on for this afternoon?”

      He nodded. “Two, right?”

      “Yes. Benton’s opening his office just for us, so don’t be late.”

      He couldn’t help but grin. “Little Hattie Beaumont, who never once made it to school on time, is lecturing me on punctuality? And how many nights did your mother send me out to find you for dinner?”

      Eyes shining, she looked away from him, then smiled. “Good times, huh?”

      “The best.” Back then, he’d had it all figured out. Perfect woman, job—even had his eye on a fixer-upper at the lonely end of Juniper Lane. Considering how tragic his parents’ marriage had ultimately been, he should’ve known better than to believe his life would turn out any different.

      Joining the navy had been the best thing he’d ever done.

      “Well...” She gestured to the house next door. “I wanted to thank Fern for the pies and ham she brought to the wake. Might as well check her firewood while I’m there.”

      “Want me to tag along?” He’d forgotten the spirit of community up here. The way everyone watched out for everyone else. He’d lived in his Virginia Beach apartment for just over five years, but still didn’t have a clue about any of his neighbors.

      “Thanks, but I can handle it.” Her forced smile brought on a protective streak in him for the girl who’d grown into a woman.

      “I’m not saying you can’t. Just offering to lend a hand. Besides...” Half smiling, he shook his head. “I haven’t seen Fern since she ratted me out for driving my snowmobile across her deck.”

      “She still hasn’t built railings. I’m surprised nobody’s tried it since.”

      “What can I say? I’m an original.”

      “More like a delinquent.” She waved goodbye and walked down the street, then shouted, “Don’t be late!”

      “I won’t.”

      “Oh—and, Mason?” He’d resumed shoveling, but looked up to find her biting her lower lip.

      “Yeah?”

      She looked down. “Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”

      “Sure. No problem,” he lied. Actually, returning to СКАЧАТЬ