Silver Thaw (6 page)

Amanda was so lost in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to reassure her child. “It’s all right, sweetie. It’s very slick.”

Unbuckling her seat belt, Chloe looked at Jeb. “Okay, I guess.”

Jeb nodded. To Amanda, he said, “Sit tight. I’ll come back to help you to the porch. I don’t want you to fall, either.”

“I don’t need help.”

He arched a brow that was the same tawny color as his hair. He was a handsome man. Amanda found it amazing that he’d managed to remain single. Judging by the grandness of his house, he had money as well as good looks.

“I’m the only one wearing traction chains, so please, humor me,” he said.

Amanda watched as he carried Chloe up onto his front porch, opened the massive door, and deposited the child inside what she presumed was an entry hall. Seconds later, he returned to the truck and opened the front passenger door. Amanda unfastened her seat belt, exited the vehicle, and promptly slipped. Jeb caught her around the waist.

“Lean against me. I’ll keep us both standing.”

He took short strides so she could keep pace. Amanda didn’t like being held against his big, hard body, but she knew she’d fall if he turned her loose. It seemed to her that time went into slow motion. When she was safe on the less icy porch pavers, he finally released her.

He opened the door, revealing a frightened-looking
Chloe just inside. “In you go. I’ll get your things and then build a roaring fire.”

Amanda heard the latch engage behind her. She rubbed her arms through her thin jacket as she inched from the huge hallway to peer at the home’s interior. To the right was a gigantic living room with a rock fireplace that took up most of one wall. Beyond was a large dining room with one of the widest tables she’d ever seen.
This isn’t a house; it’s a palace.

Just then Jeb returned, his shoe chains clanking on both the outside pavers and the interior slate floor. In the warmer air, Amanda’s sense of smell sharpened, and she caught a whiff of piney cologne as he strode past her to deposit her bulging pillowcases on the gold carpet at one end of a large, dark-chocolate sofa. As promised, he immediately opened a hand-carved box and took out logs and kindling for a fire. He crouched to lay crumpled newspaper in the grate.

“Come on in. I don’t bite.”

Holding Chloe’s hand, Amanda moved into the room, feeling out of place and as nervous as a witch in Salem. She studied him as he worked, wondering how it must feel to live alone in such a big house. He moved with easy grace for a tall and muscular man, his shoulders bunching beneath the jacket, his legs taut under his denim jeans as he shifted his weight. When he lighted the paper and flames licked up through the logs, firelight danced across his face, making his hair shimmer like gold.

He pushed himself to his feet and slid a brown ottoman in front of the hearth. Then he lifted the top to withdraw a fleece blanket from an interior storage area. “You two can snuggle up and get warm while I throw a meal together. Anything special you’d like?”

Amanda drew a blank. “Anything hot.”

He laughed and shrugged out of his jacket. As he walked to a gorgeous juniper coat tree, Amanda took measure of his build, which was deceptively slender, belying the strength she’d felt when he’d stopped her from falling. He wore a blue work shirt tucked in at the waist.

Over his shoulder, he said, “You should probably put those wet shoes on the hearth to dry and put on another pair.”

Amanda realized he was speaking to her. Embarrassed to admit it, she said, “I don’t have another pair.”

He threw her a startled look. Then he disappeared, returning a moment later to hand her a pair of thick wool socks.

“Thank you.”

He only nodded before disappearing again.

Amanda removed her shoes and wet socks, then helped Chloe remove her boots. The woolen footwear felt heavenly on her feet. After setting their shoes near the fire, she drew her daughter onto her lap and draped the blanket over them both. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel warm again,” she whispered.

“Me, either.” Chloe shivered. “Hold me close, Mommy.”

Amanda tightened her embrace. Glancing around the room, she saw photos on the mantel. An older man who looked a lot like Jeb and a dark-haired woman smiled down at her from one frame. In another, Jeb stood flanked by two younger guys who also resembled him. Jeb had his arms curled over their shoulders. All three were grinning, showing off teeth so white they could have been models in a toothpaste commercial.

Oh, God, I hope I haven’t made a horrible mistake by coming here
. Pressing her cheek against her daughter’s
hair, she detected the faint smell of food. Her stomach snarled with hunger, calling to mind the frozen leftovers she’d forgotten at home. Coming here hadn’t been a mistake.

The delicious aroma of what she guessed was braised chicken grew stronger. A man who cooks? Amanda was surprised. Mark wouldn’t even help wash dishes, and he had often slapped Amanda for putting “shit” on his plate.

The tension slipped from her shoulders as the heat from the fire surrounded her. It felt so good that she could have gone to sleep. Just then a monstrous dog lumbered into the room. She didn’t need to look to be sure it was a male. He had the most massive head she’d ever seen on a canine. He also looked vicious and capable of devouring people before using their bones to pick his teeth.

He let loose with a low, rumbling growl. Amanda couldn’t think what to do. If she moved, he might leap. Chloe screamed and burrowed against Amanda to hide her head under the blanket. Amanda was tempted to join her.

*   *   *

When Jeb heard Chloe’s scream, he had just set the digital timer on the pressure cooker, so he rushed to the living room. When Chloe peeked out at him from her mother’s arms, he couldn’t help but think she was the cutest little thing he’d ever seen.

Resting a hand on his dog’s shoulder, Jeb said, “This is Bozo. I named him that because he’s such a clown.” Chloe peered out at him again. “I know he looks scary, but the truth is, he wouldn’t bite a flea to get it off his back.”

“He growled at us,” Amanda said.

“I don’t doubt it, only it wasn’t really a growl. That’s just how he talks.”

“Are you one of those people who says his dog is smiling when it snarls?”

Jeb chuckled. “Trust me, I don’t wear blinders when it comes to Bozo. He’s a mastiff. At his last vet check, he tipped the scales at two hundred and thirty pounds. He once ate my sheep’s shelter because I’d left him alone. But people are safe. He’s a very social animal. The only reason I didn’t have him with me today is because I didn’t have room in the truck with all the emergency supplies.”

The beast growled again. Chloe squeaked and shrank against Amanda. Jeb walked over to crouch in front of them. The mastiff came with him. “Don’t be afraid, honey. That’s just how Bozo says hello. If you don’t say hi back, you’re going to hurt his feelings.”

Chloe poked her head up from under the blanket to stare at the giant dog. Bozo pressed forward, whining and rumbling at once. Jeb decided he’d better take a stab at translating dog language into English. “He’s saying that he’s never been around a little girl and would really like to make friends with you. Though Bozo is very big, he has a gentle heart. He’s always careful not to knock people over, and I’m guessing that he’ll be even more cautious around you because you’re so small.”

Chloe studied the dog. “What melted his lips?”

Jeb saw Amanda stifle a smile, and he almost grinned himself. “Mastiffs just have droopy jowls.” He winked at the child. “When he starts to shake his head, be sure to duck. He throws drool everywhere.”

*   *   *

Amanda gathered the courage to stretch out her hand to pat the dog on the head. Looking beyond his sagging lids, she searched his red-rimmed brown eyes. She saw no viciousness, only an appeal to be friends. She didn’t want Chloe to be afraid of dogs. Her daughter was already fearful of far too many things.

Upon seeing her mother touch the mastiff, Chloe dived back under the blanket. Bozo licked Amanda’s fingers and then rested his wet, drool-laced chops on her knee. He frowned as he studied the trembling lump under the fleece.

Still hunkered down in front of them, Jeb said, “He’s nothing but a big old love, Chloe. He’s only ever seen little girls at a distance, and he’d probably like to get a better look at you.”

Chloe finally peeked at the dog again. Bozo growled, sending her back into hiding. As if the dog sensed the child’s terror of him, he rolled over onto his back, rumbled again in a friendly way, and paddled his front paws in the air. The huge animal looked so silly that Chloe, who’d bared her head again, giggled. At the sound, Bozo leaped to his feet with surprising agility. Chloe didn’t dive for cover quickly enough and received “doggy” kisses. The child sputtered and tried to push the dog’s head away. Bozo contented himself with licking her tiny hands.

“Don’t be afraid,” Amanda said. “As scary as he looks, I don’t think he’s mean.”

Soon, with Jeb narrating an explanation of Bozo’s behavior, Chloe slipped off the ottoman and sat on the floor. It was apparently love at first meet, because the child quickly went from timidly petting Bozo to hugging his thick neck. The dog growled happily.

Jeb returned to the kitchen to check on their meal, and before Amanda knew it, Chloe was curled against Bozo for warmth, the light of the fire bathing them with its heat, both of them fast asleep.

Jeb rounded the corner into the living room. “Dinner’s done.” He glanced down at the sleeping pair and grinned, shaking his head. “Dumb dog. He’s supposed to be a watchdog. Instead he’s never met a stranger.” He lifted his gaze to Amanda’s. She found herself thinking that he had beautiful eyes, their hazel depths shimmering like topaz in the flickering light. Even so, the spacious room didn’t seem big enough to hold him. “I can put Chloe’s dinner in the warmer. When she wakes up, she’ll be hungry, but for now, maybe we’d better let her sleep. It’s been a long, cold, scary day for her.”

Amanda hated to leave her warm nest, but hunger drove her to discard the blanket and stand. Jeb led the way to the kitchen—if it could even be called that. Amanda took in double ovens and so many built-in appliances that she didn’t know what half of them were. Jeb Sterling believed in living large. The kitchen was huge. His dog was gigantic. His pickup had a full and comfortable-looking backseat. And his house was a sprawling place, sparsely decorated but pleasant and homey despite that.

“I’ve never seen so much counter space,” she said. “Five individuals could cook in here at once. I think this is even larger than the school cafeteria kitchen.” She ran her fingertips over the dark marbled granite of the work island. “This is gorgeous.”

Oversize oven mitts on his hands, Jeb circled her, carrying serving dishes. “I’m one of six kids. When my family visits, the kitchen doesn’t seem quite so big. And
everyone is elbow to elbow, cooking, chopping, or stirring.”

Once again, Amanda found herself wondering how this handsome, tawny-haired man with twinkling eyes and a smile that could light up a room had managed to stay single for so long. She guessed he was about thirty.

When he had all the food on the round kitchen table, he motioned for her to take a seat across from him. Once she’d lowered herself onto a chair, he bent his head to bless the meal. Mark had never allowed prayer in his house. Over time, Amanda had learned to say the blessing in silence, never letting her expression give her away. Though Jeb didn’t say the words aloud, she appreciated that he observed the tradition, one with which she’d grown up. Her dad had always done the honors. The memory made Amanda miss him.

“If you’ll dish Chloe a plate, I have the warmer ready.”

He had roasted a whole chicken with potatoes and carrots and had made a tossed salad. “How on earth did you get this done so fast?” she asked.

“Digital pressure cooker. Everything is cooked in a third of the usual time.”

Amanda gave Chloe a chicken leg and a small serving of vegetables, afraid to dish up too much for fear the child wouldn’t eat it all. She didn’t want Chloe to be made to sit at the table until she finished swallowing bits of food she didn’t want. Glancing at Jeb, she wondered if he would get as angry as Mark had if Chloe’s appetite didn’t meet his expectations.

“What?” he asked softly.

Amanda shook her head. “It’s nothing.” Excusing herself, she stood and collected the plate. “Where is the warmer?”

“Just around the end of the peninsula bar,” he replied. “Second bottom drawer, stainless-steel front.”

Amanda found the appliance and tucked Chloe’s meal inside. When she resumed her seat at the table, she saw that Jeb had carved the remainder of the hen into pieces. She placed a folded paper towel on her lap and then chose a breast before filling the remainder of her plate with vegetables and salad, which had been tossed with a berry vinaigrette. The poultry was melt-off-the-bone tender and delicious. Jeb filled their glasses with water from a pitcher. Until she took a drink, Amanda hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.

“This is wonderful,” she told him. “Thank you for inviting us here.”

“I’m happy to have you.”

They ate in silence for a minute, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jeb seemed to be as hungry as she was. He apparently realized that he was gobbling. After swallowing a mouthful, he smiled and said, “Sorry. I’ve been flat-out all day, and the energy bars I tossed on the dash were frozen solid before I found a moment to try eating one.”

Amanda shared her experience with the frozen leftovers. “We held pieces of pizza in our mouths until they thawed enough to chew them.”

“I didn’t have time for much mouth thawing. It was a crazy day.” He wiped the corners of his lips with his napkin. “Tony, across the road, pounded on my door well before dawn. I felt grumpy at first, but now I’m really glad he recruited me to help. I didn’t realize how many oldsters live on Elderberry. Most of them were in desperate straits.”

He told her about a lady who’d become offended when he poured RV antifreeze down her drains, inferring
that he felt her house was small enough to be on wheels. Then about an old man who’d proclaimed himself to be ninety years young and had fallen and bruised his hip while trying to bring in wood. “And I can’t forget my mom’s friends on Ponderosa Lane,” he told her. “I knew Mom would skin me alive if I didn’t check on them, so I went to their houses first. Nobody answered their doors. I was getting really worried that they were inside, frozen stiff, when I saw Mary Melissa Dilling’s house lit up like a Christmas tree.”