Maid Under The Mistletoe. Maureen Child

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      A short bark of laughter shot from her throat. “Not a chance. My friend Ruthie and I do this every year, as you well know. We’ve got our rooms booked and there’s no way we’re canceling.”

      He’d known that—he just hadn’t wanted to think about it. Another reason to hate December. Every year, Kaye and Ruthie took a month-long vacation. A cruise to the Bahamas, then a stay at a splashy beachside hotel, followed by another cruise home. Kaye liked to say it was her therapy to get her through the rest of the year living with a crank like himself.

      “If you love Christmas so much, why do you run to a beach every year?”

      She sighed heavily. “Christmas is everywhere, you know. Even in hot, sandy places! We buy little trees, decorate them for our rooms. And the hotel lights up all the palm trees...” She sighed again, but this time, it was with delight. “It’s gorgeous.”

      “Fine.” He pushed away from the hearth, tucked both hands into the pockets of his jeans and stared at her. Every year he tried to talk her out of leaving and every year he lost. Surrendering to the inevitable, he asked, “You need a ride to the airport?”

      A small smile curved her mouth at the offer. “No, but thanks. Ruthie’s going to pick me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. She’ll leave her car there so when we come back we don’t have to worry about taking one of those damn shuttles.”

      “Okay then.” He took a breath and muttered, “Have a great time.”

      “The enthusiasm in that suggestion is just one of the reasons I need this trip.” One dark eyebrow lifted. “You worry me, Sam. All locked away on this mountain hardly talking to anyone but me—”

      She kept going, but Sam tuned out. He’d heard it all before. Kaye was determined to see him “start living” again. Didn’t seem to matter that he had no interest in that. While she talked, he glanced around the main room of what Kaye liked to call his personal prison.

      It was a log home, the wood the color of warm honey, with lots of glass to spotlight the view that was breathtaking from every room. Pine forest surrounded the house, and a wide, private lake stretched out beyond a narrow slice of beach. He had a huge garage and several outbuildings, including a custom-designed workshop where Sam wished he was right at that moment.

      This house, this sanctuary, was just what he’d been looking for when he’d come to Idaho five years ago. It was isolated, with a small town—Franklin—just fifteen minutes away when he needed supplies. A big city, with the airport and all manner of other distractions, was just an hour from there, not that he ever went. What he needed, he had Kaye pick up in Franklin and only rarely went to town himself.

      The whole point of moving here had been to find quiet. Peace. Solitude. Hell, he could go weeks and never talk to anyone but Kaye. Thoughts of her brought him back to the conversation at hand.

      “...Anyway,” she was saying, “my friend Joy will be here about ten tomorrow morning to fill in for me while I’m gone.”

      He nodded. At least Kaye had done what she always did, arranged for one of her friends to come and stay for the month she’d be gone. Sam wouldn’t have to worry about cooking, cleaning or pretty much anything but keeping his distance from whatever busybody she’d found this year.

      He folded his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to catch this one rifling through my desk, right?”

      Kaye winced. “I will admit that having Betty come last year was a bad idea...”

      “Yeah,” he agreed. She’d seemed nice enough, but the woman had poked her head into everything she could find. Within a week, Sam had sent her home and had spent the following three weeks eating grilled cheese sandwiches, canned soup and frozen pizza. “I’d say so.”

      “She’s the curious sort.”

      “She’s nosy.”

      “Yes, well.” Kaye cleared her throat. “That was my mistake, I know. But my friend Joy isn’t a snoop. I think you’ll like her.”

      “Not necessary,” he assured her. He didn’t want to like Joy. Hell, he didn’t want to talk to her if he could avoid it.

      “Of course not.” Kaye shook her head again and gave him the kind of look teachers used to reserve for the kid acting up in class. “Wouldn’t want to be human or anything. Might set a nasty precedent.”

      “Kaye...”

      The woman had worked for him since he’d moved to Idaho five years ago. And since then, she’d muscled her way much deeper into his life than he’d planned on allowing. Not only did she take care of the house, but she looked after him despite the fact that he didn’t want her to. But Kaye was a force of nature, and it seemed her friends were a lot like her.

      “Never mind. Anyway, to what I was saying, Joy already knows that you’re cranky and want to be left alone—”

      He frowned at her. “Thanks.”

      “Am I wrong?” When he didn’t answer, she nodded. “She’s a good cook and runs her own business on the internet.”

      “You told me all of this already,” he pointed out. Though she hadn’t said what kind of business the amazing Joy ran. Still, how many different things could a woman in her fifties or sixties do online? Give knitting lessons? Run a babysitting service? Dog sitting? Hell, his own mother sold handmade dresses online, so there was just no telling.

      “I know, I know.” Kaye waved away his interruption. “She’ll stay out of your way because she needs this time here. The contractor says they won’t have the fire damage at her house repaired until January, so being able to stay and work here was a godsend.”

      “You told me this, too,” he reminded her. In fact, he’d heard more than enough about Joy the Wonder Friend. According to Kaye, she was smart, clever, a hard worker, had a wonderful sense of humor and did apparently everything just short of walking on water. “But how did the fire in her house start again? Is she a closet arsonist? A terrible cook who set fire to the stove?”

      “Of course not!” Kaye sniffed audibly and stiffened as if someone had shoved a pole down the back of her sweatshirt. “I told you, there was a short in the wiring. The house she’s renting is just ancient and something was bound to go at some point. The owner of the house is having all the wiring redone, though, so it should be safe now.”

      “I’m relieved to hear it,” he said. And relieved he didn’t have to worry that Kaye’s friend was so old she’d forgotten to turn off an oven or something.

      “I’m only trying to tell you—” she broke off to give him a small smile of understanding “—like I do every year, that you’ll survive the month of December just like you do every year.”

      He ground his teeth together at the flash of sympathy that stirred and then vanished from her eyes. This was the problem with people getting to know too much about him. They felt as if they had the right to offer comfort where none was wanted—or needed. Sam liked Kaye fine, but there were parts of his life that were closed off. For a reason.

      He’d get through the holidays his way. Which meant ignoring the forced cheer and the never-ending lineup of “feel good” holiday-themed movies where the hard-hearted СКАЧАТЬ