Free A Fortune's Children's Christmas by Barbara Boswell, Lisa Jackson, Linda Turner Page B

this place around. Nothin’ much to report.” He laughed then, and the sound was rich and deep, reminding Lesley of the few times he’d relaxed during their week together. “Yeah, same to you. Happy Valentine’s Day. Don’t worry. I’m fine, Kate…Lesley? She’s here right now.” He looked at her, and their gazes locked. “The baby’s doing great. Thanks, I will.” He hung up and walked to the woodstove where an enamel pot was sitting.“That was my great-aunt Kate,” he said, pouring two cups of coffee. “Checking up on me, her investment and you.”
    Still holding Angela in one arm, he handed one of the full cups to Lesley.
    “I’ve never met her. Why would she even ask about me?”
    “Maybe she’s just nosy.” Chuckling, he picked up his cup and thought for a minute. “I’m just kidding. She’s interested in everything that goes on here, and I told her about you and the baby.” He frowned a little, as if that particular thought bothered him, and Lesley took a long sip from her cup. The house was about the same as when she’d left, except that over the mantel there was a picture of a pretty blond woman holding a baby. As if drawn to the photo, Lesley walked to the fireplace. “Who’s this?” she asked. The woman’s hair was blowing in her face as she sat on a boulder, but she was smiling brightly and squinting into the sun.
    He hesitated. “That was Emily. My wife.”
    The words settled like doom in the cabin. “Your wife?” she said weakly, then gave herself a swift mental kick. Of course he’d been with other women. Why would it surprise her that he’d been married?
    “She’s holding my son.”
    “I, um, I didn’t know that—”
    “They’re both gone now,” he said, as if he needed to clear the air. “They died a few years back.”
    Her heart was suddenly heavy. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Chase, I’m so sorry,” she said, turningand seeing a glimpse of his anguish, a flash of tragic sorrow in his eyes, before his jaw was set again and that rigid wall of disinterest was firmly back in place.
    “I am, too,” he admitted, his voice thicker than usual.
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “No reason to dwell on it,” he said, and before she could ask what happened, she realized the subject was closed and the cabin seemed colder somehow.
    “I didn’t even know you’d been married.”
    “As I said, I don’t think about it. It’s the past. Over and done.”
    “But it still hurts,” she said automatically, then wished she’d held her tongue as his expression shifted and he was once again the taciturn, unapproachable cowboy she’d first met weeks ago.
    “Oh. Well.” She took a long sip from her cup and made excuses to leave. If Chase wanted to shut her out, to pretend that the pain of his past didn’t exist, so be it. For the first time since the days right after Angela’s birth she felt out of place in the cabin that had once seemed so cozy.
    “What time’s dinner?” he asked, as she slid her arms through her jacket. So he was planning to come. She was surprised, but tried not to show it.
    “Whatever works for you. Seven?”
    “Fine. I’ll be there. You want a lift home?”
    She shook her head and yanked on her gloves. “The whole point of coming over here was to stretch some seldom-used muscles. I’ll see you later.” She placed Angela inside her front pack and felt a ridiculous bit of lightheartedness as she made her way back to her place.
    It was silly, really. Chase was her neighbor, a man who had helped her during a difficult time in her life. Nothing more. That’s the way he wanted it and the way she wanted it. But she hummed to herself as she cooked, and she paid special attention to cleaning the house.
    “Grow up,” she told herself angrily, but the smile that toyed at the corners of her mouth wouldn’t disappear.
     
    Chase kicked himself up one side and down the other as he drove the short distance to Lesley’s house. What was he doing