The Road Not Taken

He cleared his throat, making her aware that he stood just behind her. Caro turned. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

“You’re a restless sleeper,” she said inanely.

His brows shot up.

“The covers.” She motioned to them with one hand. “They’re all bunched up.”

“I would have straightened my bed if I’d known someone besides me would be sleeping in it tonight. I wasn’t expecting company. More company, that is.”

“I didn’t mean to sound critical,” she offered hastily. “In fact, my covers always look the same by morning.”

His brows rose again, making her feel foolish and flustered. She didn’t care for either sensation. So, when she spoke again, her tone was no-nonsense. “Anyway, I really do appreciate your giving up your bed for me. The room is very nice. Lovely in fact.”

His laughter startled her almost as much as the transformation humor made on his appearance.

“It’s a dump, Caro. The whole place is.” He sobered then as he glanced around. “It wasn’t always like this and it won’t be by the time I’m finished. I’ll make it right.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that final fierce declaration. In the end, it didn’t matter. He switched gears and returned to more practical matters.

“There are only three bathrooms that are in working order in the entire place. One is on the main floor next to what used to be the caretaker’s quarters. The other two are up here, including the one through there.” He pointed to a door on the far side of the room. “Sorry I wasn’t able to go back for your bag, but you’ll find most of the basics—soap, shampoo, toothpaste. I think there’s even a new toothbrush in one of the vanity drawers.”

“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She offered a smile. “It sure beats sleeping in a snowdrift.”

“You wouldn’t be sleeping. You’d be dead.”

Her smile vanished.

“Sorry.” He glanced away.

For the first time, she noticed a small, crescent-shaped scar at the corner of his left eye. She had one similar in size and shape on the underside of her chin, the result of a fall off her bike when she was six. Truman considered it a defect and had tried more than once to talk her into seeing a plastic surgeon to have it made less noticeable.

She was glad she’d resisted. As it was, he’d managed to erase so much of her personality and her person, remaking her into an image she’d barely recognized when she gazed in the mirror. One of the first things she’d done after leaving him was to dye her hair back to something resembling its natural shade of caramel-brown. He’d preferred her as a blonde, and he knew best, after all.

“Sorry,” Jake said again, pulling her from her musings. This time he sounded a little more irritated than contrite.

“No need to apologize. Besides, you’re right. I was already in serious trouble when you happened along,” Caro admitted. “And I didn’t mean to stare at you just now. It’s just that I was noticing your scar.”

On impulse she reached over and traced its smooth surface with one fingertip. He pulled backward as if she’d struck him.

“It gives your face character.”

“That’s putting it politely.” He didn’t sound convinced. Nor did he appear to appreciate her forwardness.

“I have one, too.” She tilted up her chin and pointed. “See? Right here.”

He cupped the side of her face and turned her head slightly to get a better look. His callused hand felt rough against her skin. She told herself that was the only reason for the odd sensation his touch inspired.

“How’d you get yours?” he asked as he withdrew his hand.

“I fell off my bike and hit the handlebars on my way down. I was six. You?”

“Eleven. Dean and I were horsing around and I took a header off the front porch. My mother’s stone birdbath broke my fall.” He rubbed his temple. “I wound up with a concussion and we both wound up grounded.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I was older.” He shrugged. “Supposedly, I knew better.”

“Hi.” Bonnie knocked at the opened door before entering. “I come bearing clothes. Sorry to say, all I have for you is a robe and a pair of wool socks. I didn’t bring a second pair of pajamas.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I really appreciate this.”

Caro took the berry-colored terry-cloth robe from Bonnie’s hands. It was soft and looked warm, as did the gray socks. That was all that mattered.

“Aren’t you going to light the fireplace, Jake?” Bonnie asked.

Caro could have hugged her.

“I guess I could,” he said slowly.

“It would help take the chill off,” Bonnie said, sending Caro a grin.

“The inn’s furnace needs to be replaced. It’s on my to-do list.” He sighed then. “Along with a lot of other things.”

“Dean’s told me stories about this place. He said it was something else when you were kids. He remembers the two of you playing hide-and-seek in the common rooms and sliding down the banister.”

Jake grunted. “The banister couldn’t take Riley’s weight now without splintering into pieces.”

“He’s getting big.” Unless Caro missed her guess, Bonnie was purposely misunderstanding his meaning. “Doreen says he’s the spitting image of Dean at that age. He’s all McCabe. Same with Jillian.”

A muscle ticked in Jake’s jaw and something akin to pain flashed in his eyes.

The silence stretched. Before it could become too awkward, though, Bonnie dusted her hands together.

“Well, just to let you know, Mom’s reheating the pot of five-alarm chili she made earlier. She told me to tell you it would be ready whenever you and Caro are hungry.”

Caro’s stomach growled as if on command, making her realize she was all but starving. The piece of toast and cup of tea she’d had several hours earlier had barely been enough to sustain her through the morning. Adrenaline, however, had staved off the worst of her hunger.

Apparently, until just now.

Caro wanted to be appalled. She found herself laughing out loud instead. Bonnie joined in. Jake, however, gaped as if she’d gone mad.

In her head, Caro heard her mother-in-law say sternly: “Only a woman of ill breeding would comport herself in such a manner.”

Caro sobered.

“What about you guys?” Jake was asking Bonnie.

“Oh, we ate a little over an hour ago.”

“Jillian said you were worried about me,” he reminded her wryly.

“I was, which is why I indulged in two bowls.” Bonnie’s smile vanished and she poked his chest with her index finger. “Don’t do that again. I don’t care how much Dean ticks you off. Don’t do that again. Do you hear me?”

Jake grabbed hold of the finger before she could jab him a second time and gave it a squeeze. “I hear you. Next time, I’ll pick Dean up and dump him outside in the snow.”

“One stipulation,” she said.

“Anything.”

“Wait until I have the camera handy.” Bonnie left the room chuckling.

“That’s nice.”

Jake turned to face Caro. “What?”

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