Page 24 of Her Snowbound Hero

A shudder blanked his features, as if he’d heard the question countless times before. “Things are more hectic than usual. The hospital was recently purchased by a bigger one and there is a lot of red tape to get through.” He nodded toward her hands. “What is that stuff? I thought you smelled different. Is that why?”

She pretended outrage. “Are you saying Ismell?” Her ploy worked because his expression turned teasing.

“That last one smelled like Christmas so it’s a good smell.”

Darcy held the latest bottle out for his perusal. “It’s an essential oil. I use them in my massage therapy sessions.”

Garret leaned forward a little and sniffed. “Cypress?”

“Very good.”

“I can’t take credit. My mother and grandmother really get into decorating the house at Christmas. They always have fresh greenery and cinnamon, stuff like that.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is. What about you? What was your house like?”

“Oh, nothing spectacular. My mom was so afraid of setting the house on fire that we had a fake tree. One of the small ones that could be scrunched up and put into storage.”

“Not us. Real trees, all the way.”

“Trees? More than one?”

Garret got up and moved to sit beside her. He plucked the case of oils from her lap, held it up to his nose and sniffed cautiously.

“Yeah. Sometimes one in every room, sometimes more. They always had a theme, so needless to say my mother’s ornament collection is massive. Now it fills the attic.”

“I’ll bet they’re beautiful.”

More than anything else, for some reason the number and type of Christmas trees articulated their vastly different upbringings. What would growing up in that house have been like?

“What’s this?”

“Huh?” Her gaze was drawn to his lips when he smiled.

“Where did you go?”

Heat crept into her face. “Baby fog,” she said by way of an excuse. “My mind slips into la-la land a lot. What did you say?”

“What’s this one?”

The bottle looked fragile in his big hand. “That’s a blend of several of the oils. It helps with anxiety and depression.”

“Wasn’t this the one you used?”

She couldn’t hold his gaze. “I’m pregnant, the father is a no-good, lying bas—louse. AndI’m stuck in a snowstorm because I wrecked the first new car I was ever able to buy. Depressed? Maybe just a little.”

“Things will get better, Darcy. Nick will have your car fixed up good as new.”

“Maybe.”

“Notmaybe.You’ll be good to go in no time.”

Yeah, but would she still have a place to goto?

“Come on, talk to me. What are you thinking about?”

She didn’t want to unload her burdens on him, didn’t want him to know all the nasty details of her life she was embarrassed about and couldn’t change.

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