Free Snowflakes on the Sea by Linda Lael Miller

sell at Pike Place Market.”
    Pat shook her head. “I’ve sworn off bagels, along with lottery tickets and cigarettes.”
    “How about Roger Carstairs?” Mallory teased. “Have you sworn off him, too?”
    Pat seemed to shine like the Christmas tree hidden away in the living room at the mention of the handsome young attorney she’d met while acquiring property for Nathan’s growing corporation. Since then, Roger’s name came up a lot. “No way. I don’t make a habit of swearing off hunks, Mallory.”
    Mallory’s green eyes danced with mischief. “Patty McKendrick, you’re in love!”
    The guess was correct; Pat blushed slightly and nodded her head. “Don’t tell Nathan, though. I don’t want him doing one of his Big Brother numbers—demanding to know Roger’s intentions or something.”
    Mallory laughed. That would be like Nathan; he was fiercely protective of his sister, partly because their parents, like Mallory’s, were no longer living. “I promise not to breathe a word!”
    “Good,” Pat said. “How is Nate, by the way? He looked pretty undone at the penthouse the other night.”
    Mallory laid her hand on Pat’s, quick to reassure her. “He’s fine.” I’m the one who might have to be carted off in a padded basket.
    Like her brother, Pat could be uncannily perceptive at times. “Mall,” she began cautiously, “I love you, but you really look like hell. Have you told Nathan that you’re thinking of dropping your contract with the soap?”
    Mallory’s eyes strayed to the window, and she pretended an interest in the incessant snow. “No.”
    “Why not?”
    Cinnamon came to lay her head in Mallory’s lap and whimpered sadly. Probably she was feeling abandoned, since Nathan had left her behind this time. Her mistress patted her reassuringly. “I’m not sure how he’ll take it, Pat.”
    “What do you mean, you’re not sure how he’ll take it? You know he hates the demands the show makes on you, and, well…” Pat paused, and when Mallory glanced back at her sister-in-law, she saw a reluctant look in her eyes. “Mallory,” she went on at last, “it hurts him that you don’t use his name anymore.”
    “I know,” Mallory nodded, thinking back to Diane’s visit the day before, when she had announced her intention to drop “O’Connor” and call herself Mallory McKendrick again. She hadn’t had a chance to explain her decision to Nathan—or was it that she hadn’t had the courage? Now, she wasn’t sure which was really the case. “I guess, in the back of my mind, Pat, I’m afraid that taking back my married name isn’t going to matter to Nathan. His life is so fast paced, and I’m not sure I can keep up anymore.”
    “ Talk to the man, Mallory. Make him listen, even if you have to throw a screaming fit or insult his band to do it!”
    It was the only sensible course of action, and Mallory knew it. Too many times, all during her marriage to Nathan, she had stepped aside when other demands were made on him, however intrusive and unreasonable, content to wait her turn. A hot blush of anger crept up from her collarbone into her cheeks, and she drew a deep breath.
    Her turn had come.
    “I see I’ve gotten through,” Pat said, rising purposefully from her chair. “He’s over at the other house, I assume?”
    Mallory nodded, the high color of outrage still pounding in her cheeks.
    Pat collected her coat and scarf from the hall closet and came back into the kitchen. “I’ll spend the night over there, since I can’t quite face fighting my way through downtown Seattle tonight. And you, Mrs. McKendrick—you get Nathan on the phone and tell him to get over here, in no uncertain terms!”
    Mallory felt some of her determination drain away. Nobody told Nathan McKendrick to do anything, and Pat knew it as well as she did. “But if he’s busy—” she wavered, hating herself all the while. Busy doing what? taunted a voice in her mind. Holding Diane’s trembling hand? Soaking