her boots. Numb fingers made her progress slow.
“I thought you said the inn wasn’t open for business,” she murmured.
“It’s not.” Jake had already removed his hat. Now, he shucked off his coat.
He didn’t sound happy.
“Oh, those aren’t guests. They’re the rest of our family,” Doreen informed Caro as she took her son’s coat. With a meaningful glance at Jake, the woman added, “And because we’re family, we invite ourselves if need be.”
“Mom …”
“Just saying.” She took Caro’s parka, as well, hanging them both on pegs to dry. “I’ll grab some towels for the two of you. Go into the main living area and sit by the fire to warm up while I’m gone.”
Caro nearly smiled. Jake didn’t seem the sort of man to take orders, but this was his mother. Sure enough, he led her to a room at the front of the inn, where a fire blazed in the hearth. An older man was seated in an overstuffed chair next to it. He was reading a book and smoking a pipe. A couple of children, neither of whom was much older than her Cabot, played at the older man’s feet. On the couch across from them, a young couple snuggled together under a thick knitted throw.
Family.
An ache welled inside Caro, both for what she’d lost and for what should have been. Her parents had been gone five years, the victims of a car accident. She’d been the one to positively identify their bodies, yet she still sometimes found herself reaching for the telephone to call them.
If she were looking for an excuse as to why she’d married Truman, that would be it. She’d been so lonely, so very lost after their deaths. And he’d been understanding and supportive. He’d taken charge, helped her make decisions when she was too griefstricken to do so. It wasn’t until later she’d realized how controlling he could be.
She forced herself back to the matter at hand. She was relieved that she wouldn’t be spending the night alone in the ramshackle inn with its brooding owner, but now she felt like an intruder. Quite obviously, this was a family gathering and she was an outsider. It didn’t help that all eyes were on her when she and Jake stepped into the room. The older man glanced up from his book, the children stopped playing and the couple on the couch shifted to sitting positions.
One of the children was the first to break the silence.
“Uncle Jake’s back! Uncle Jake’s back!” squealed the little girl. She hopped up and shot across the floor to wrap one of his legs in an embrace.
Not to be outdone, the little boy followed suit. He didn’t just hug Jake’s leg, he tried to scale it. Caro smiled. It was just the sort of thing Cabot would do. Jake’s reaction, however, was the polar opposite of what Truman’s would have been. Instead of being befuddled by the boy’s exuberance and a little embarrassed by the affectionate display, Jake scooped him up in his arms.
“Hey, munchkin.”
Caro’s heart did a strange thunk-thunk, which she attributed to wishing for what already should have been the case for her son: a father who not only enjoyed his silly antics but would take part in them. It had nothing to do with Jake, even if at the moment he seemed nothing like the brooding man who not so long ago had begrudgingly offered her shelter from the storm.
His smile was real, smoky blue eyes alight with teasing humor. He was all the more handsome for it.
Thunk, thunk!
This time Caro outright ignored the sensation.
“Daddy said you were going to freeze your fool head off out in the snow.”
Leave it to a child to rat out an adult. But she wisely hid her smile. And good thing, too, since right after Jake asked in an amused voice, “Did he now?” he shot a dark look in the direction of the couch, where the man in question sat, hands on his knees and ready to rise.
Brothers, she decided, and felt another bubble of envy swell. Caro was an only child.
The little boy grinned and nodded vigorously. “Yep. But Grandpa said that a little time alone would do you good.” Now he frowned. “Did it?”
Half of Jake’s mouth rose. “For the most part.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re back, Uncle Jake,” the little girl enthused. “Mommy and Grandma were getting worried that something had happened.”
“What about you?” Jake asked.
“A little. But you’re in-in …” She scrunched up her pretty little face and glanced toward the couch. “What’s that word from the superhero movie we watched last week, Daddy?”
“Invincible,” the man supplied. His lips twisted on the word.
The child repeated it with an adorable lisp while Jake’s expression turned rueful.
His gaze was on his brother when he said, “I’m no hero, super or otherwise.”
He set both of the kids down, even as the couple on the couch and the older man in the rocker rose and stepped forward.
Caro sensed a second meaning to Jake’s words that made her curious, but she didn’t comment on it. She was a guest, one even less welcome than his family apparently was. The underlying tension here was impossible to miss.
No matter, she assured herself. She would be on her way as soon as the snow slowed down and a wrecker could pull out her car.
Which reminded her. “Excuse me, can I use your telephone?”
Before Jake could answer, the little boy asked, “Who’s this, Uncle Jake?”
She didn’t wait to be introduced. “I’m Caro. Your uncle may not be a superhero, but he did rescue me from the storm. My car got stuck in a drift.”
It was a little bit more than stuck, but she mentally crossed her fingers that whatever damage the front had sustained could be repaired without too much fuss.
Jake glanced sharply in her direction. An odd mix of anger and bewilderment colored his expression.
“Right place, right time,” he mumbled. He was back to the surly man who’d first stumbled across her, leaving her to wonder what she’d said to irritate him.
“I’m Jillian,” the little girl said. She stuck out her hand, which Caro shook. “I’m six and I have a loose tooth. Want to see?”
Without waiting for a reply, Jillian opened her mouth and used the tip of her tongue to wiggle one of her top front teeth. Her already-adorable lisp was going to become even more pronounced soon, Caro thought.
“Jilly,” reprimanded the woman from the couch, who was now, along with the man Caro assumed was Jake’s brother and the older man, gathered around Caro in a semicircle, smiling politely even as they stared openly. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s all right. A loose tooth is pretty exciting news for a child.”
Jake cleared his throat and apparently remembered his manners. “Caro, this is my sister-in-law, Bonnie, and my brother, Dean. You’ve met Jillian, of course. Her brother is Riley.”
“I’m almost five,” Riley informed Caro, holding up the corresponding number of digits.
Jillian rolled her eyes. “He just turned four last week.”
Only children were so eager to add a year to their age. Caro bent down to shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Riley.”
The boy’s wide grin revealed a pair of dimples that melted Caro’s heart. Cabot had dimples.
“And this is my father, Martin McCabe,” Jake was saying.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. McCabe.” Her hand was swallowed up in one of Martin’s giant paws.
“Likewise.”