One Night Before Christmas. Robyn GradyЧитать онлайн книгу.
an extension of the gravel road.
His impatience grew as he realized they could have driven the few hundred feet. Finally, he dug in his heels. “I should move the car,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
At that very moment, Phoebe stopped so abruptly he nearly plowed into her. “We’re here,” she said bluntly. “And that is what’s left of your two-month rental.”
The industrial-strength flashlight was more than strong enough to reveal the carnage from the previous night’s storm. An enormous tree lay across the midline of the house at a forty-five-degree angle. The force of the falling trunk had crushed the roof. Even from this vantage point, it was clear that the structure was open to the elements.
“Good Lord.” He glanced behind him instinctively, realizing with sick dismay that Phoebe’s home could have suffered a similar fate. “You must have been scared to death.”
She grimaced. “I’ve had better nights. It happened about 3:00 a.m. The boom woke me up. I didn’t try to go out then, of course. So it was daylight before I realized how bad it was.”
“You haven’t tried to cover the roof?”
She chuckled. “Do I look like Superwoman? I know my own limitations, Mr. Cavallo. I’ve called my insurance company, but needless to say, they’ve been inundated with claims from the storm. Supposedly, an agent will be here tomorrow afternoon, but I’m not holding my breath. Everything inside the house got soaked when the tree fell, because it was raining so hard. The damage was already done. It’s not like I could have helped matters.”
He supposed she had a point. But that still left the issue of where he was expected to stay. Despite his grumblings to Luc and Hattie, now that he was finally here, the idea of kicking back for a while wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Perhaps he could find himself in the great outdoors. Maybe even discover a new appreciation for life, which as he so recently had found out, was both fragile and precious.
Phoebe touched his arm. “If you’ve seen enough, let’s go back. I’m not going to send you out on the road again in this miserable weather. You’re welcome to stay the night with me.”
They reversed their steps as Leo allowed Phoebe to take the lead. The steady beam of light led them without incident back to his car. The porch light was still on, adding to a feeling of welcome. Phoebe waved a hand at the cabin. “Why don’t you go inside and warm up? Your sister-in-law told me you’ve been in the hospital. I’d be happy to bring in your luggage if you tell me what you’ll need.”
Leo’s neck heated with embarrassment and frustration. Damn Hattie and her mother-hen instincts. “I can get my own bags,” he said curtly. “But thank you.” He added that last bit grudgingly. Poor Phoebe had no reason to know that his recent illness was a hot-button issue for him. He was a young man. Being treated like an invalid made him nuts. And for whatever reason, it was especially important to him that the lovely Phoebe see him as a competent, capable male, and not someone she had to babysit.
His mental meanderings must not have lasted as long as he thought, because Phoebe was still at his side when he heard—very distinctly—the cry of a baby. He whirled around, expecting to see that another car had made its way up the narrow road. But he and Phoebe were alone in the night.
A second, less palatable possibility occurred to him. He’d read that a bobcat’s cry could emulate that of an upset infant’s. And the Smoky Mountains were home to any number of those nocturnal animals. Before he could speculate further, the sound came again.
Phoebe shoved the flashlight toward him. “Here. Keep this. I’ve got to go inside.”
He took it automatically, and grinned. “So you’re leaving me out here alone with a scary animal stalking us?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The bobcat. Isn’t that what we’re hearing?”
Phoebe laughed softly, a pleasing sensual sound that made the hair on his arms stand up even more than the odd noise had. “Despite your interesting imagination,” she said with a chuckle, “no.” She reached in her pocket and removed the small electronic device he had noticed earlier. Not a camera, but a monitor. “The noise you hear that sounds like a crying baby is actually a baby. And I’d better get in there fast before all heck breaks loose.”
Leo stood there gaping at her even after the front door slammed shut. It was only the realization his hands were in danger of frostbite that galvanized him into motion. In short order he found the smaller of the two suitcases he had brought. Slinging the strap across one shoulder, he then reached for his computer briefcase and a small garment bag.
Locking the car against any intruders, human or otherwise, he walked up the steps, let himself in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Phoebe standing by the fire, a small infant whimpering on her shoulder as she rubbed its back. Leo couldn’t quite sort out his emotions. The scene by the hearth was beautiful. His sister-in-law, Hattie, wore that same look on her face when she cuddled her two little ones.
But a baby meant there was a daddy in the picture somewhere, and though Leo had only met this particular Madonna and child today, he knew the feeling in the pit of his stomach was disappointment. Phoebe didn’t wear a wedding ring, but he could see a resemblance between mother and child. Their noses were identical.
Leo would simply have to ignore this inconvenient attraction, because Phoebe was clearly not available. And though he adored his niece and nephew, he was not the kind of man who went around bouncing kids on his knee and playing patty-cake.
Phoebe looked up and smiled. “This is Teddy. His full name is Theodore, but at almost six months, he hasn’t quite grown into it yet.”
Leo kicked off his shoes for the second time that night and set down his luggage. Padding toward the fire, he mustered a smile. “He’s cute.”
“Not nearly as cute at three in the morning.” Phoebe’s expression as she looked down at the baby was anything but aggravated. She glowed.
“Not a good sleeper?”
She bristled at what she must have heard as implied criticism. “He does wonderfully for his age. Don’t you, my love?” The baby had settled and was sucking his fist. Phoebe nuzzled his neck. “Most evenings he’s out for the count from ten at night until six or seven in the morning. But I think he may be cutting a tooth.”
“Not fun, I’m sure.”
Phoebe switched the baby to her left arm, holding him against her side. “Let me show you the guest room. I don’t think we’ll disturb you even if I have to get up with him during the night.”
He followed her down a short hallway past what was obviously Phoebe’s suite all the way to the back right corner of the house. A chill hit him as soon as they entered the bedroom.
“Sorry,” she said. “The vents have been closed off, but it will warm up quickly.”
He looked around curiously. “This is nice.” A massive king-size bed made of rough timbers dominated the room. Hunter-green draperies covered what might have been a large picture window. The attached bathroom, decorated in shades of sand and beige, included a Jacuzzi tub and a roomy shower stall. Except for the tiled floor in the bathroom, the rest of the space boasted the same attractive hardwood he’d seen in the remainder of the house, covered here and there by colorful rugs.
Phoebe hovered, the baby now asleep. “Make yourself at home. If you’re interested in staying in the area, I can help you make some calls in the morning.”
Leo frowned. “I paid a hefty deposit. I’m not interested in staying anywhere else.”
A trace of pique flitted across Phoebe’s face, but she answered him calmly. “I’ll refund your money, of