Page 23 of The Healer

The older woman smiled. “If you call me Harriet. Quit standing around, Dane, and make yourself useful. Take Ilona’s bag upstairs.” Her grip on Ilona’s elbow was surprisingly strong for such a tiny woman. “Would you like a cup of cocoa?”

Ilona nodded. Dane lifted her bag like it weighed nothing, then jogged up the staircase, highlighting an ass she had to admit was exquisite. His denims rode low and cupped his gluteus maximus to perfection.

“We don’t get guests often.” Harriet’s voice faded down the passage, and Ilona hurried to catch up, the aroma of roast beef urging her to follow. “What brings you to Coedwig?”

“My grandmother sent me. I’m supposed to find Amos Denton.” She hoped revealing her purpose meant a quick in and out of Coedwig. For such a smallish town, everyone had to know everyone.

“Why would you want to find him?” While pouring boiling milk into cups, Harriet frowned. A delicate rose pink splashed across her cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

Ilona shrugged and climbed onto a barstool, leaning her elbow on the kitchen’s island. “Gran claims he’s my grandfather.”

“What? That mean old bastard?” Dane grumbled something under his breath before sliding onto a barstool beside her, bringing with him the fragrance of pine needles, cold wind, and snow. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t scare her, Dane. Amos is a sweetheart.”

He grunted. “To you, maybe. He’s a pain in my ass.” Dipping his head, he sipped from the mug Harriet placed before him. “Planning on staying long?”

Ilona wrapped her fingers around the mug and raised it to her lips. The sweet, addictive aroma of chocolate greeted her, and floating on the surface were pink mini marshmallows. Dane had all the white. She looked away to hide a smile.

“I don’t know.” When the cocoa warmed her belly, she flashed Harriet a grateful smile. “I have this box I’m supposed to give him.”

“Twenty-something years ago?” Harriet tapped her chin, her gaze unfocused. “The only woman… Would your gran be Monique Devereaux?”

“Yup, the one and only. She’s a little bundle of sassiness. Thankfully, I take after my dad.” Ilona winced as fresh pain rose out of the ceaseless dull ache circling her heart. Tears pressed against her eyes like she hadn’t just railed at the stars. “Um, if you don’t mind, I would like to turn in.”

“Yes, of course. Dane?”

He grunted and slid off the stool, but it was too late. Tears won out and ran like rivulets down Ilona’s cheeks. She hurried to wipe them away, embarrassment flushing her face. Then he did the stupidest thing. He wrapped his bulky arms around her and crushed her against solid muscle.

The floodgates opened. She drenched his T-shirt in seconds.

When Harriet slapped his arm, he released Ilona. “She hasn’t been here fifteen minutes and you have her crying.”

“It wasn’t me,” he growled, but he kept his hands on Ilona’s shoulders. He dipped to meet her gaze, his ice-blue eyes startling. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry for your pain or how life treated you before coming to Coedwig, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”

Another kind and understanding stranger? Did Coedwig breed them big and sweet? Ilona chuckled through her tears. “Thanks.”

With a tissue Harriet took from her cardigan sleeve, he dabbed Ilona’s face, his finger under her chin keeping her in place. He was gentle for such a lummox, gentler around her scar. “I’ll show you to your room. Dinner’s in about an hour or so.”

Ilona shook her head. As delicious as the beef smelled, her stomach churned. “I’m to bed if you don’t mind.”

Dane studied her. “Fair enough. Tomorrow morning, after one of Harriet’s epic breakfasts, I’ll take you to Amos.”

Harriet harumphed. “I’ll show her upstairs while you fetch more firewood.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, dropped a kiss on Harriet’s cheek, then jogged out the back door into the night. Going outside without a coat reminded Ilona of her naked Neanderthal.

“Wow, Ilona, for Dane to invite you to stay?” Harriet’s eyes twinkled, and Ilona would swear in front of the medical board, Harriet planned a matchmaking.

“Dane’s your grandson?” Her chance to pry.

“No, he owns most of Coedwig.” Harriet hung up her apron and gestured to the passage. “He’s what you would call our mayor.”

Ilona gaped, now seeing her sobbing in his arms as a tanktastic faux pas. “Oh.”

“He lets me run this bed and breakfast, even named it after me, just so I feel useful.” She climbed the stairs. Ilona trailed her, gripping the balustrade to drag her exhausted body up to the landing. Her knees trembled on each step. “Breakfast is when you wake up, dearie.”

“That’s not fair on—”

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