“Running scared.”
“He’s not running scared. He married me for the land. He got it. He’s history.”
He shook his head. “If he was history you wouldn’t have cooked enough to feed a church congregation.”
Embarrassment burned her skin like a heat lamp. “The inn is at full occupancy. I want to have plenty to go around. You know our guests are ravenous when they return from the slopes.”
He tsked and shook his head. “Never known you to back down from a challenge, girlie. Always admired your grit. Until now.”
She flinched. “What would you have me do?”
“Nope. I’m not giving you the answer. You have to figure that out for yourself. But I’ll tell ya this much. Hiding in the kitchen and baking into the wee hours every morning ain’t gonna solve your problems or make you happy.” He shuffled out of the room.
The spacious room suddenly felt crowded and hot. She needed a break. Sabrina quickly washed and dried her hands, then plucked at her cowl-neck sweater. If only she could turn back the clock to October, back to when she’d been normal and numb. No. She smoothed a hand over her tummy. She didn’t want to go back. Going back meant undoing the miracle she and Gavin had created and forgetting those wonderful, magical, Christmas-card moments they had shared.
The only thing she’d change if given the chance was to slow everything down. Her relationship with Gavin had been too…everything. Too fast. Too intense. Too perfect. Too good to be true. And now…too painful.
What else could she do? She’d fought for her parents’ attention and failed to get it. Then she’d begged Russell to come home and share her grief after she’d miscarried. And even though his superiors would have granted him leave, Russell had chosen to stay with his men and do his job over being with her. She wasn’t going to set herself up for another rejection from Gavin.
If you don’t have the guts to ask for something, then you don’t deserve it. Sabrina heard her grandmother’s voice as clearly as if Colleen Caldwell were standing in the kitchen kneading dough and dispensing advice the way she’d done every summer of Sabrina’s life.
But was her grandmother’s wisdom right?
Sabrina fussed with the tie strings of her apron. No. She wasn’t going to beg for love. She wanted a man who chose to be with her, one who needed her as much as she did him. If Gavin wasn’t that man then she didn’t want him.
Yes, you do.
Sad, but true. She still loved him. Gavin had hurt her, but he’d also taught her how to play again, how to feel, and he’d shown her a side of Aspen she’d never experienced before—Aspen through the eyes of a native who truly loved this place, even though he let his father drive him away.
And that was the key, she realized. When you loved something or someone, you couldn’t let them push you away. You had to push back and fight for what you wanted.
She couldn’t walk away without at least making an attempt to see if what she’d shared with Gavin was more than just an act on his part. His touch, his lovemaking, his smiles had all seemed too genuine to have been nothing more than a pretense to seduce her into marriage.
And didn’t her child deserve better than an emotionally and geographically distant father? Yes. And the only way this baby had a chance at having an involved father was if Sabrina found the courage to confront Gavin and demand he be a better parent to their child than his or hers had been to them. If he’d already signed the relinquishment papers her lawyer had sent him then she’d just have to change his mind.
And, as Pops had so wisely pointed out, she couldn’t do that hiding in the kitchen.
“Meg?” she called.
The inn’s housekeeper stuck her head around the corner of the laundry room door. “Yes?”
“Everything is under control here. Leave the dough to rise and I’ll deal with it later. I’m going out.”
“In this weather? Honey, you’ll need sled dogs to travel now. The snow is really coming down. Visibility up on the mountains can’t be good. Our guests will be returning from the slopes before dark, I’m thinking.”
Surprised, Sabrina glanced out the kitchen window. Leaden skies dumped big, fat flakes. Her heart sank. “I guess I could put the chains on the tires.”
“Can’t whatever it is wait until tomorrow?”
“No. It can’t wait another minute.” She pulled on her coat, hat and gloves. “Dinner is in the oven. It’ll be done at five if I’m not back.”
“The girls and I can handle serving. Do what you’ve got to do. Just be careful out there.”
Sabrina felt a twinge of guilt at leaving the inn’s staff to cope, but that is why she’d hired extra help for the tourist season. She stepped out on the back porch and the cold hit her like a blow, but she gritted her teeth and headed for the barn to get the chains for the minivan’s tires. She’d made it halfway to the building when the sounds of bells caught her attention.
Her heart skipped at the memory of the carriage ride with Gavin and what had happened afterward. They’d made love and made a baby. She’d never be able to hear sleigh bells again without remembering. But right now she had more important things to do than reminisce.
She ducked her head and trudged onward, but the bells kept coming closer. She stubbornly refused to look. “Probably tourists taking a sleigh ride.”
She stepped into the cold barn, rummaged until she located the chains and headed back out the side door only to stop in her tracks. A sleigh she didn’t recognize stood in the inn’s driveway, but two familiar horses snorted frosty white clouds into the air from the harnesses. The man stepping down from the vehicle didn’t glance her way, but she’d recognize that muscular frame and that confident bearing anywhere. Gavin. He marched toward the inn’s back door.
“Gavin,” she called out, her voice cracking.
He stopped and pivoted. Her heart swooped to her stomach like a skier plunging down the mountainside. He closed the distance between them in long determined strides.
She wet her dry lips. “What are you doing here?”
He looked tired and tense as his dark eyes prowled slowly over her, resurrecting memories of his hands and mouth doing the same. He jerked his head toward the sleigh. “Get in.”
Her breath hitched. “It’s cold. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather put the horses in the barn and go inside the inn?”
“If we go into that barn together, we’re going to end up making love and not talking. And as much as I want you, it’ll have to wait.”
A quiver started deep inside her, then worked its way outward until her entire body trembled. “Oh. I—I—” The tire chains in her hands rattled. She swallowed and tried again. “I was coming to see you.”
He took the chains from her, carried them back to the barn. She took the sixty seconds while he was out of sight to try and gather her shattered composure. Why was he here? The divorce papers? The relinquishment form? Both should have been delivered this morning.
He returned. “The sleigh is safer than slick tires. Let’s go.”
He gripped her elbow and pulled her forward, hitting her body with a bolus of adrenaline. How could his touch affect her so deeply? He’d married her for land. Or had he? Was Pops right? Was Gavin running scared? Heaven knew the way he made her feel terrified her.
“Are you sure the horses will be okay?”
“They’re conditioned to the weather and they have the proper shoes.” He helped her into the vehicle but this wasn’t the one they’d used before. This one had runners instead of wheels. She settled on the seat and pulled the blankets over her legs. He climbed in beside her, his body only inches from hers, then released the brake and clucked to the horses. He guided them back to the road where, thankfully, the traffic was light due to the heavily falling snow.
“Where are we going?”
“Wait and see. Are you warm enough?”
“Yes.” An electric blanket kept the chill away and the curved top kept the snow off their heads. But neither did anything for her doubts. She knotted her gloved hands and tried to find the words to broach her request. How did you order a man to be a good father? Giving him a chance to concentrate on maneuvering them through traffic was the perfect excuse to stay silent.
He turned the sleigh into the Jarrod Ridge driveway, then took the path toward the mine—the cause behind everything that had happened in the past twenty-four whirlwind days. Their meeting, dating, marriage, baby and separation.
“Look in the compartment,” he said.
Sabrina leaned forward and opened the small box in the front dashboard of the carriage. She withdrew a sheaf of papers and unrolled them. She’d seen this document before. “It’s the deed to the mine.”
“Made out to you.”
She scanned the words and saw her name, verifying what he said. “Why?”
He pulled the horses to a stop beneath a covered shelter that hadn’t been here last time she’d visited the mine, then he set the brake and dropped the reins. She looked around, noting the stakes and the trenches in the nearby soil rapidly getting covered with snow. “I’ve halted construction on the lodge.”
“Why?” she repeated.
“Because I married you under false pretenses, this land is rightfully yours.” He paused and swallowed, his dark gaze unwavering. “But I’m hoping you’ll share it with me. With our child.”
Stunned, she stared at him. “What are you saying, Gavin?”
“I may have married you for the wrong reasons, but I fell in love with you for the right ones.”
Her eyes, throat and lungs burned. She searched his eyes, seeing the truth, the emotion behind the words. He loved her. “Gavin—”
He held up a hand. “Hear me out. You stole my heart, Sabrina, with your smiles, your generosity and your courage. You reminded me why I love this place.”
The pages crumpled in her hands. He took them from her and dropped them on the seat, then climbed down from the carriage and held out his hand. Too dumbfounded to do anything else, Sabrina placed hers in his and let him assist her from the carriage. Cold as it was, she resented the gloves separating their flesh. He led her toward the path and stopped a hundred feet away at the overlook where he’d allowed Pops to rest the day they’d hiked to the mine.
“I told Henry that if I ever returned to Aspen I’d build a house here overlooking the valley. That day I didn’t have the courage to face the bitter memories I’d left here. Today, because of you, I do.”
“Gavin, I don’t want to be any man’s anchor. You love your job.”
“You’re no one’s anchor. You’re the fulcrum on which everything else balances. The idea of not being able to come home to you every day, to hold you in my arms at night and to make love with you knocks me off center.”
Her knees went weak. “You’re not saying this just because of the baby, are you?”
He shook his head. “I never expected to find you. The baby is a bonus—first of several I hope to have with you. Let’s build a home in this spot overlooking the inn and raise a family together.”