CHAPTER EIGHT
SEAN HAD FORGOTTEN HOW it felt to spend a whole day outdoors. Used to dehydrating under the artificial lights of the operating room, it was a pleasant change to feel the sun scorch his back and breathe in the scent of summer rain.
What surprised him most was the discovery that he’d missed certain aspects of being home. He’d missed the lake and the forest, the feel of the wood against his hands, the rush of satisfaction that came from a job well done.
Nothing gave him the same satisfaction as operating, but he had to admit that over the past few days there had been moments when working on the deck had come close. After days of watching life go by, he could see how much Jackson had done to boost the fortunes of Snow Crystal.
Every morning, Brenna had taken a group of children out onto the lake in kayaks as part of her Outdoor Discovery week. Jess, Tyler’s daughter, had joined them and Sean had been watching their progress.
Among the children he recognized Sam Stephens, who had been coming to Snow Crystal for the last five years with his parents. This year there was a new baby in the family so Sam had been enrolled in one of their kids’ programs and if the smile on his face was anything to go by, he was loving it.
“Hi, Dr. O’Neil!” Sam waved madly and the kayak rocked.
“Hi, yourself.” Deciding that a break was as good a way of slowing things down as any, Sean leaned over the railings. “Looking good, Sam.”
“Brenna’s been teaching us how not to capsize. You have to use your paddle and your body. A few of us fell in.” He lowered his voice. “One of the boys cried, but I thought it was really cool.”
Sean thought about the temperature of the water and decided “cool” probably didn’t begin to describe it. “How’s that sister of yours?”
“She cries a lot and she’s too small to be any fun, but Dad says maybe in two years she can go on a bike or something.” Sam almost smacked himself in the face with the paddle. “I’m going to be nine next week. I’m getting a bike for my birthday. Dad’s going to take me out on one of the trails. Have you saved any lives today, Dr. O’Neil?”
“Not today. But it’s only eleven o’clock.” He’d lost his audience because the boy was peering past him, the kayak rocking as he craned his neck.
“Élise! Élise, look at me.” He waved an arm, almost dropping the paddle. “I know the French word for lake. Lac.”
“Très bien! You are very clever.” Light on her feet, Élise crossed the deck and waved back. “Soon you will be fluent.”
Sean glanced at her and saw that telltale dimple in the corner of her mouth. Her gaze was warm as she leaned over the railings and spoke to the boy, speaking slowly in French.
Sam was paddling and talking. “I like French but science is my best subject. I want to be a doctor. I want to be a surgeon like Dr. O’Neil. He fixes bones and things. Isn’t that right, Dr. O’Neil?”
Sean dragged his eyes away from that dimple. “Yeah.” Aware that he sounded croaky, he cleared his throat. “That’s right.”
“I guess if you’re going to be a surgeon, you have to be okay with blood. I’m fine with blood. I don’t faint or anything.” Sam paddled away, kayak rocking in the water. “See you later, alligator!”
Élise grinned at Sean. “You said you wanted hero worship. I think you’ve got it.”
“He’s the one and only paid-up member of my fan club.”
She straightened. “Finish my deck in time for the opening, and I’ll be your second member.”
“I’ll finish your deck.” He couldn’t decide what to look at—the swing of her hair or the curve of her mouth, but he knew he wanted more time with both. He also knew she’d been avoiding him since their conversation a few days earlier. “Sit down for five minutes. You’ve been working all morning. You never stop.”
“There is still too much to do and we’re full in the restaurant tonight. Fortunately Elizabeth is working so that makes things easier. Having your mother helping out in the kitchen has changed my life.”
“It’s changed her life, too.” He remembered how his mother had been after his father’s death and compared it to the way she was now. “There was a time when I didn’t know how she was going to cope without Dad. She always loved cooking for the family but none of us thought about her working in the business. You saved her.”
“She saved herself. It just took a little time and that is not surprising. She lost someone she loved. You all did. You were close to your father.”
“Yes.” He saw no reason to deny it. “Of the three of us, I was probably the closest to him.”
There was a brief silence and then she covered her hand with his. “Losing someone you love is very hard.” She was about to say something else, but then she saw Sam waving and waved back. “I need to get on.”
He wanted to ask about her mother, about her life in Paris, but he knew it was the wrong time. And the wrong place. “You work too hard.”
“This, coming from you?” She tilted her head. “How many hours do you work a day, Dr. O’Neil?”
“I don’t keep count but there are times when I think the daily average comes to more than twenty-four.”
She smiled and then she was gone, striding across the deck with a bounce in her step, remarkable given the fact she had to be running on adrenaline and not much else.
He watched as she disappeared inside the Boathouse and then turned to find his grandfather standing next to him.
Sean tensed. The past few days the atmosphere had improved, but still there had been no opportunity to bring up the issue both of them were avoiding.
“That boy has been coming here since he was three. I lent him a pair of Tyler’s old skis on the family’s first winter trip.” His grandfather watched as Brenna taught Sam to handle the kayak. “Look how he loves it. When he’s grown he’ll bring his children back here and they’ll enjoy doing the things he did as a child. It’s how things work around here.”
Here we go, Sean thought, and braced himself for the inevitable lecture about tradition and family.
Hadn’t his father had to listen to the same lecture from his cradle to his grave?
Grief punched him hard and along with the guilt came the frustration and anger.
“Maybe they’ll want to do something different as the kids get older. Maybe they’ll want to try other things or travel to—” He broke off as Sam gave a yell of delight, the boy’s laughter so infectious that Sean found himself smiling, too.
His grandfather grunted. “Maybe they will. Because I’m pretty sure he’s having a horrible time out there and he’s never going to want to do it again.”
Sean sighed. “It will be good for the business if they come back.”
“It’s not just about business. Not everything can be measured in dollars and cents. Your great-grandfather didn’t set up the resort because he wanted the money. He believed Snow Crystal was too special to keep it just for the family. It’s the air, the scenery, the local food—he thought somewhere like this should be shared and appreciated with people who felt the way he did.”
“I know the story, Gramps.”
“He loved this place. He and your great-grandmother started by letting out a few rooms. Bed-and-breakfast. Then they built the main lodge. He taught me all of it so that I’d be able to take over. By the time I was sixteen there wasn’t a single job in the place that I didn’t know how to do.” Pride rang in his voice. “By the age of eighteen I was running the place.”
It was a story they’d all heard a thousand times, gathered around the kitchen table while their mother cooked.
“What about you?” Sean turned to look at his grandfather. “Was there ever a time when you thought you might want to do something different?”
“This place was my dream.” Walter’s voice was gruff. “Living here was all I ever wanted. I knew it was a privilege. I’d been given this piece of land to tend and nurture and she was my responsibility. I used to wake up in the morning, eager to get to work. When a man feels like that, he knows he’s doing the right thing with his life.”
It was the first time Sean had ever felt he and his grandfather were speaking the same language. “That’s how I feel about being a surgeon.” He’d never tried to explain himself before and he was cautious about doing it now because he knew his grandfather had tunnel vision when it came to Snow Crystal. “People come to me broken and I do my best to fix them. Finding different ways, better ways, is what I love doing. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I know. I watched you grow up. Knew you were going to be a doctor when Tyler fell out of that tree. Jackson was as white as the snow. You? You just handled it.” His grandfather watched as Sam’s kayak rocked in the water. “It’s just a shame you have to be doing the job so far away. Your brothers could use your help around here. If you were closer, you could come back more often.”
Sean felt sweat prick the back of his neck because he knew the reason he didn’t come home had nothing to do with distance. “I’m busy.” That, at least was the truth. “Working long hours.”
“Don’t know how you can bear to live in a city. Too many people and not enough space. I wouldn’t be able to stand it, having to fight for my own patch of air to breathe.” Walter waved again at Sam. “So are you going to finish in time for the party or are you still going to be fixing this place at Christmas?”
Sean glanced sideways, relieved to see his grandfather had more color. “I’ll finish in time for the party.” He could have finished days ago. Could have been back in Boston, enjoying his life, thinking only about himself instead of having to juggle a schedule that would have made a grown man cry. “I’m out of practice. Slow.”
His grandfather was still watching little Sam. “You worked so hard not to finish this damn deck your brain almost burst with the effort. But it was fun to watch. How long did it take you to undo what you’d already done?”
Sean stared at him. “You—” Shit. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I may not be a doctor, but that doesn’t make me stupid.”
Sean rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Was it that obvious?”
“I was the one who taught you to work with wood. You were good. If I’d really thought the deck was taking you that long I would have dropped you in the lake myself.”
Sean shook his head, realizing how badly he’d underestimated his grandfather. “If you knew, then why the hell didn’t you say something before now?”
“Because for once in your life you were putting something ahead of your work.”
Sean breathed deeply. “Gramps—”
“And you were home. Your family likes having you home from time to time. It doesn’t happen enough. It’s done you good to slow down a bit and spend time at Snow Crystal. I’ve been watching you. You’ve been enjoying the lake and the forest.”
Sean gave a disbelieving laugh. “You didn’t really have a heart attack, did you? The whole thing was an excuse so you could sit on the deck with your feet up sipping Élise’s lemonade while I work my butt off.”
His grandfather sent him a look. “You can finish up here at the proper pace, put those tools back where Zach can find them and see what you can do to help Élise before she runs herself into the ground being in two places at once. That girl does the work of ten.”
That was something he wasn’t going to argue about. And her dedication still puzzled him. “She’s obsessed with making sure the Boathouse opens on time. She’s worried about letting Jackson down so she wants everything perfect. She puts a lot of pressure on herself. He’s damn lucky to have her. She could get a job in any restaurant she wanted. Or open her own place.” Seeing Sam paddle his way into the weeds at the edge of the lake, Sean eased himself upright, ready to intervene, and noticed his grandfather was watching, too.
“The boy is fine. Brenna is there. She’s got him.” He glanced over his shoulder to the Boathouse. “Élise wouldn’t leave. She loves it here. This is her home. The Boathouse was her idea, did you know that?”
“Yes.” He remembered the conversation they’d had on the first night, when they’d walked together and she’d told him about growing up. She’d talked about her mother. “But it’s still a job. Staff move on. It’s a fact of life. Why would someone with her talent stay in one place? Experience is valuable. Every hospital I’ve worked in has taught me something different.”
His grandfather kept his eyes on Sam. “I guess sometimes a person needs more out of life than just a job.”
“That’s rich, Gramps, coming from you.”
“This place is more than my job. It’s my home. Maybe Élise feels the same way.”
“It’s not the same. You were born here.”
“You’re a man who likes fixing things, so tell me this—” Thoughtful, his grandfather ran his hand over the smooth surface of the railing Sean had finished the day before. “When someone comes into the hospital after an accident, can you tell just by looking that some part of them is badly broken?”
Sean wondered why he was changing the subject. “Sometimes, not always.” It seemed a strange question to him, especially from his grandfather who was skilled at first aid. “You can’t assess the extent of internal injuries by just looking, you know that.”
“So it’s possible for someone to look perfect on the outside, but have a lot of damage under the surface? Damage you can’t see just at a glance?”
“It wouldn’t be a glance. We’d do a thorough examination and there might be signs. Sometimes the nature of the accident would make us suspect there might be internal damage. We’d do a bunch of tests, use X-rays or other types of imaging to—” He broke off and stared at his grandfather. Then he glanced over his shoulder and looked at Élise who was still finishing off work inside the Boathouse.
It’s possible for someone to look perfect on the outside but have a lot of damage under the surface.
His grandfather eased away from the railing and reached for the walking stick Alice had insisted he keep with him. “Good thing you moved around all those hospitals and picked up all those skills. It would be easy to miss something like that unless you were very skilled. That fancy hospital in Boston is lucky to have you. Now I need to get back. If I don’t lie down, your grandmother worries about me. I do it to please her.”
“No, wait a minute—” Sean was still looking at Élise. “Hell, Gramps—what are you saying?”
“You’re the one with the medical degree and after the hours you’ve spent in that hospital since you left home, you should be good at what you do.” He rapped his stick on the deck. “Figure it out.”
* * *
ÉLISE HAD HER head full of a million different things and the moment she looked up and saw Sean leaning against the door frame, all of them vanished.
She’d spent the past few days trying to pretend he wasn’t working half-naked on her deck. It had taken almost superhuman effort.
“Can I do something for you?” Oh, God, she shouldn’t have said that. Of course, there was something she could do for him. And there was plenty he could do for her. If she’d let him. Which she wasn’t going to.
“I’m finished.” He put Zach’s toolbox down at her feet, giving her a perfect view of wide shoulders.
“I thought you were going to try and make it last another day.”
“Not much point. Turns out my grandfather was on to me right from the start. We talked.”
“You mean you fixed things?”
“No.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “We didn’t talk about that. But other things.”
She felt a pang of disappointment. “So you still haven’t tackled it?”
“We just managed to be in each other’s company for ten minutes without killing each other. I figured that was a good start. And now we can give up pretending, I’ve finished the deck.”
Delight mingled with another far more dangerous emotion. Disappointment. If he’d finished the deck then he’d be leaving. He’d be going back to Boston and without a reason to come home, they were unlikely to see each other again before Christmas.
It appalled her how much she minded.
“So we can go ahead with the party.” A few days ago she’d thought it was hopeless. She’d been depressed and dejected at her own failure to complete the task. Now that she knew it was going to be on time, she should have been bouncing with joy. So why wasn’t she? “I am very pleased. Today you are truly my hero.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, because it’s time to talk about payment.” He folded his arms and leaned against the door frame, that lazy blue gaze fixed on her face.
“Payment?”
His skin was glistening with the sweat of hard labor and she took a step backward. It was too reminiscent of that night last summer when they’d driven each other wild. She knew how those shoulders felt. She’d had her hands on them. And her mouth. And he’d had hands and mouth on her, too. She couldn’t stop thinking about it and clearly he couldn’t, either, because his eyes were fixed on her lips as if she were a meal he wanted to eat.
“Yeah, we haven’t talked terms. But I’m ready to do that.”
“What do you want?”
He smiled. “We’ll start with dinner. I’m hungry.” His gaze lowered to her mouth. “And given that you haven’t stopped working all week, you must be hungry, too.”
Merde. “Sean—”
“Eight o’clock suit you or do you want to make it later?”
“No, it doesn’t suit me! There is no time for dinner. I have a party for more than one ’undred people in less than two days.”
“You’re nervous.” His voice was soft and there was a gentle gleam in his eyes. “You always drop your h’s when you are stressed.”
“Yes, I am nervous! This opening is really important to me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So it’s the Boathouse that is making you nervous?”
“Yes! And as I was saying, I have—” she put special emphasis on the h, huffing the word at him “—nothing for the guests to eat. And I need to look at the deck. I don’t want anyone falling through it.”
He smiled, a slow sexy smile that slid into her bones and cut her off at the knees. “You want to take a closer look at my work? I can assure you it’s the prettiest deck in Vermont and no one will be falling through it. Of course, if they do then I can fix whatever they break.” He was so damn sure of himself and she ground her teeth.
“We don’t eat dinner together. We don’t do that.”
“Well, this time we’re going to. We’ve both had a long week.” He hadn’t bothered shaving that morning and his jaw was hazy with dark shadow, his eyes a lazy blue under thick eyelashes.
She wanted to eat dinner with him so badly it terrified her. There was no way, no way, it was going to happen.
“If you are hungry I will book you a table in the restaurant. The specials tonight are coquilles Saint Jacques and confit de canard. You’ll enjoy it.”
“I’m not dressed for the restaurant.”
“You’re not dressed at all.” Her gaze slid to the sleek, pumped-up muscles of his shoulders. “That is the problem.”
“It’s a problem?” His husky voice told her he didn’t see it as a problem at all, and Élise ground her teeth.
“Not a problem for me, but it will bother the other diners, so you can shower and change and turn up looking like Sean and not like—like—”
“Like?”
“Like you do.” Gorgeous. Dangerous.
He leaned closer to her. “Nine o’clock, Élise. That gives you time to finish whatever it is you need to finish and still be awake. I’ll cook. We’ll have dinner on the deck.”
She forced herself to breathe.
He’d been under her nose for days and it was slowly driving her crazy and now he wanted to spend the evening with her, too? And nine o’clock would mean eating dinner by moonlight and that was far too romantic.
She didn’t do romantic.
“You’ve done a great job on the deck but it’s teeming with people getting ready for Saturday and frankly—”
“I didn’t mean this deck. I’ve had enough of staring at this deck. I meant your deck. At Heron Lodge.”
Her deck?
Her territory. That was even more dangerous.
He was killing her excuses one by one, cutting them down as if they were trees in the forest blocking his path. And he did it with a smiling charm that assaulted her willpower and left her mind reeling.
Because she knew people were listening, she stepped out onto the deck so that there was no chance they could be overheard. “That’s kind of you, but I really don’t think—”
“Nine o’clock.” He turned and walked away from her, treating her to a glorious full-on view of those wide muscular shoulders.
“Holy crap, that man is smoking-hot.” Poppy breathed from behind her. “I think I need a doctor.”
* * *
PUCCINI BLARING FROM the speakers, Sean drove into the village and picked up the food he wanted, along with a bunch of flowers for his grandmother. Traffic was heavy on the way back to Snow Crystal and he sat in a queue for a while, watching tourists take photographs of the pretty covered bridge with the forest and mountains in the background.
He couldn’t get his grandfather’s words out of his head.
It’s possible for someone to look perfect on the outside but have a lot of damage under the surface.
Back home he found Jackson hunched over a laptop, staring at a spreadsheet. Maple was curled up asleep at his feet.
Sean glanced at him on the way to the fridge. “Does it add up?”
“Nothing ever adds up in this place.”
“But it’s getting better. You’ve still got the regulars coming back. Brenna’s outdoor program seems popular. I can’t believe how much little Sam has grown.”
“Yeah, he’s a great kid. I remember the year Gramps gave him those little skis Tyler had when he was three. His face was a picture.” Jackson adjusted a couple of numbers. “So how is the deck going? Banged a nail through your finger yet?”
“It’s done.”
Jackson looked up. “I thought you were making it last.”
“Gramps was onto me.”
Jackson leaned back with a grin. “Good to know his brain isn’t damaged. So I bet that was a lively conversation. Did he tell you to leave?”
“No. I got the usual lecture. I should spend more time here. The place is about tradition and families. You know how he is. Puts on the pressure. He did the same thing to Dad all the time.”
Jackson’s smile was replaced with a frown. “Sean—”
Before he could finish speaking the door opened and Kayla walked in. “Honey, I’m home.” Her singsong voice was loaded with suggestive humor. “The interview went well. Prepare yourself for— Oh—” She broke off, embarrassed, as she noticed Sean. “Hi. I didn’t know you were here. Sorry.”
Relieved she’d interrupted because the last thing he wanted was to have a conversation about his father, Sean smiled at her. “Don’t mind me.”
Her blond hair was fastened in a clip on top of her head and she was wearing heels and a pencil skirt. She looked sleek and professional.
New York, Sean thought. Not Snow Crystal.
How the hell was she going to adapt to living in this place? At the moment she had the best of both worlds. She was living two lives, the only compromise being her energy levels. Like him, she’d been totally committed to her job. Until she’d met Jackson.
What would happen when she’d been here awhile? One day she’d wake up and realize what she’d sacrificed and then the resentment would start. Slowly at first, but then building into a dangerous ball of regret and bitterness.
Jackson flipped the lid of the laptop shut. “Goodbye, Sean, great seeing you. Drop by again sometime. Preferably Christmas.”
“I could join you for dinner.”
“Dinner is going to be takeout pizza in bed. You’re not invited.” Jackson walked across to Kayla, hauled her against him and kissed her soundly.
“Pizza?” Sean shuddered. “That’s the best you can do when you’re trying to impress a woman in bed?”
“We’re carb loading to give us energy.”
Sean decided to have some fun. “I could do with some carb loading after all the energy I expended on your deck. Want me to order?”
Jackson lifted his mouth from Kayla’s long enough to shoot him a threatening glance. “I thought pizza was beneath you?”
“Suddenly I feel like eating dinner with you. Brotherly bonding.”
Kayla eased out of Jackson’s arms. “What a perfect idea.”
Jackson scowled. “What’s perfect about it?”
“Sean is welcome to stay for dinner.” Kayla walked over to Sean, a mischievous smile on her face. “I’d like you to, really. Forget pizza, I’ll cook something special. Something you’ll never forget. I insist. It’s been a while since I spent any time in a kitchen but I think I can remember where it is.”
The two brothers exchanged glances.
Jackson grinned and folded his arms. “Great idea. Stay for dinner, Sean. Kayla will cook.”
It was an ongoing joke that Kayla’s significant abilities didn’t extend to the kitchen and Sean backed toward the stairs, hands raised.
“Hey, my specialty is orthopedics, not toxicology.”
“Are you insulting my wife-to-be?”
“No. I’m insulting her cooking.”
“I’m wounded—” Kayla batted her eyelids. “And I was going to cook you something extra special. An experiment.”
“All right, you win. I’ll leave the two of you alone. Watching you together puts me off my food, anyway.”
Leaving them to focus on each other he showered, borrowed another shirt from Jackson’s room and then pulled out the bags of food he’d bought earlier, along with a bottle of chilled wine.
Kayla looked at the wine and the bags of food. “Where are you taking those?”
Sean paused. If he told them he was planning on seeing Élise they’d turn it into something more. “Thought I’d have a picnic.” It sounded as ridiculous to him as it obviously did to his brother.
“Yeah,” Jackson drawled, “because we all know what a ‘picnic’ person you are. Nothing you like more than ants in your food and mud on your pants.”
“I never said anything about ants or mud. I’ll see you both later.” Ignoring the sarcasm, Sean strolled to the door. He opened it, thinking he’d got away with it when Kayla’s voice stopped him.
“Why don’t you just call Élise and book a table in the restaurant? She’d be happy to cook you something, I’m sure.” The words were innocent enough but something in her tone made him glance over his shoulder at the woman who would soon be his sister-in-law.
Jackson frowned. “He can’t do that. It’s Élise’s night off.”
Sean’s eyes met Kayla’s.
She smiled.
She knew.
Jackson’s phone rang and as he turned away to answer it Kayla’s smile widened.
“Have a nice evening, Sean. Enjoy your—er—picnic.”