Sugar Pine Trail--A Small-Town Holiday Romance Read online

  Business, she reminded herself, making her voice as no-nonsense and brisk as possible.

  “I can’t think of any now, but I’m sure something will come up.”

  He smiled again, but she thought perhaps this time his expression was a little more reserved. Maybe he could sense she was uncharmable.

  Or so she wanted to tell herself, anyway.

  “I would ask that you please wipe your feet when you carry your things in and out, given the snow out there. The stairs are original wood, more than a hundred years old.”

  Cripes. She sounded like a prissy spinster librarian.

  “I will do that, but I don’t have much to carry in. Since El told me the place is furnished, I put almost everything in storage.” He gestured to the duffel and laptop bag, which he had set inside the doorway. “Besides this, I’ve only got a few more boxes in the car.”

  “In that case, here are your keys. The large one goes to the outside door. The smaller one is for your apartment. I keep the outside door locked at all times. You can’t be too careful.”

  “True enough.”

  She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid I’ve already gone twenty minutes past my lunch hour and must return to the library. My cell number is written on the front of the packet, in case of emergency.”

  “Looks like you’ve covered everything.”

  “I think so.” Yes, she was a bit obsessively organized, and she didn’t like surprises. Was anything wrong with that?

  “I hope you will be comfortable here,” she said, then tried to soften her stiff tone with a smile that felt every bit as awkward. “Good afternoon.”

  “Uh, same to you.”

  Her heart was still pounding as she nodded to him and hurried for the stairs, desperate for escape from all that...masculinity.

  She rushed back downstairs and into her apartment for her purse, wishing she had time to splash cold water on her face.

  However would she get through the next six weeks with him in her house?

  * * *

  HE WAS NOT looking forward to the next six weeks.

  Jamie stood in the corner of the main living space to the apartment he had agreed to rent, sight unseen.

  Big mistake.

  It was roomy and filled with light, that much was true. But the decor was too...fussy...for a man like him, all carved wood and tufted upholstery and pastel wall colorings.

  It wasn’t exactly his scene, more like the kind of place a repressed, uppity librarian might live.

  As soon as he thought the words, Jamie frowned at himself. That wasn’t fair. She might not have been overflowing with warmth and welcome, but Julia Winston had been very polite to him—especially since he knew she hadn’t necessarily wanted to rent to him.

  This was what happened when he gave his sister-in-law free rein to find him an apartment in the tight local rental market. She had been helping him out since he had been crazy busy the last few weeks flying Caine Tech execs from coast to coast—and all places in between—as they worked on a couple of big mergers.

  Eliza had wanted him to stay at her and Aidan’s rambling house by the lake. The place was huge, and they had plenty of room, but while he loved his older brother Aidan and his wife and kids, Jamie preferred his own space. He didn’t much care what that space looked like, especially when it was temporary.

  With time running out on his lease extension, he had been relieved when Eliza called him via Skype the week before to tell him she had found him something more than suitable, for a decent rent.

  “You’ll love it!” Eliza had beamed. “It’s the entire second floor of a gorgeous old Victorian in that great neighborhood on Snow Blossom Lane, with a simply stunning view of the lake.”

  “Sounds good,” he had answered.

  “You’ll be upstairs from my friend Julia Winston, and, believe me, you couldn’t ask for a better landlady. She’s sweet and kind and perfectly wonderful. You know Julia, right?”

  When he had looked blankly at her and didn’t immediately respond, his niece Maddie had popped her face on to the screen from where she had been apparently listening in off-camera. “You know! She’s the library lady. She tells all the stories!”

  “Ah. That Julia,” he said, not bothering to mention to his seven-year-old niece that in more than a year of living in town, he had somehow missed out on story time at the Haven Point library.

  He also didn’t mention to Maddie’s mother that he only vaguely remembered Julia Winston. Now that he had seen her again, he understood why. She was the kind of woman who tended to slip into the background—and he had the odd impression that wasn’t accidental.

  She wore her brown hair past her shoulders, without much curl or style to it and held back with a simple black band, and she appeared to use little makeup to play up her rather average features.

  She did have lovely eyes, he had to admit. Extraordinary, even. They were a stunning blue, almost violet, fringed by naturally long eyelashes.

  Her looks didn’t matter, nor did the decor of her house. He would only be here a few weeks, then he would be moving in to his new condo.

  She clearly didn’t like him. He frowned, wondering how he might have offended Julia Winston. He barely remembered even meeting the woman, but he must have done something for her to be so cool to him.

  A few times during that odd interaction, she had alternated between seeming nervous to be in the same room with him to looking at him with her mouth pursed tightly, as if she had just caught him spreading peanut butter across the pages of War and Peace.

  She was entitled to her opinion. Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t need everyone to like him.

  His brothers would probably say it was good for him to live upstairs from a woman so clearly immune to his charm.

  One thing was clear: he now had one more reason to be eager for his condo to be finished.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “SERIOUSLY? WE HAVE Book Club in less than four hours, and you’re only now checking out the book we’re supposed to be discussing?”

  Samantha Fremont shrugged and swiped at a lock of auburn hair that always seemed to be falling into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, but I was in the middle of a Coco Chanel biography and I couldn’t put it down. Fascinating stuff, that. Anyway, I just need a copy to skim through on my lunch hour. You can tell me what happens, can’t you?”

  Julia sighed and handed over a copy of Filling Your Well, the feel-good self-help memoir that had been chosen by this week’s discussion leader, Roxy Nash.

  “It’s all about designing your life the way you want it, about taking chances and pursuing your goals,” she said,

  “Oh. One of those books.” Sam made a face. “I should have known. Maybe I’ll stay home and watch reruns of Project Runway.”

  “You have to come. We had a last-minute venue change, and it’s at my house.”

  “Ooh. In that case, I’ll definitely be there. I understand Jamie Caine is living upstairs from you in all his glorious gorgeousness. How is it? Tell me everything!”

  Julia rolled her eyes. “He’s lived upstairs from me for all of three hours now, and I’ve been working that entire time. It’s a little premature for me to offer an opinion.”

  Samantha was a flirt of the highest order. In that, at least, she and Jamie were perfect for each other, though he was about a decade older.

  “If Jamie lived under the same roof with me, I would never want to leave my house.”

  Funny. Julia had the opposite reaction. She was wondering if she could bring a few blankets and pillows and camp out on the sofa in her office.

  “I mean, think about it,” Sam went on. “He’s going to be showering up there. And sleeping, too, all warm and tousled and cuddly. I wonder if he wears pajamas.”

&n
bsp; Julia’s imagination began to drift into dangerous waters, until she yanked it back safely to the shores of reality.

  She cleared her throat. “Do you want to check out any other books to go with this one?” she asked, holding out Filling Your Well.

  Sam gave a dreamy sigh. “No. This will do. Unless you know any hot romance novels featuring tall, gorgeous pilots.”

  Julia could name several off the top of her head, but she had a feeling Samantha was only joking.

  “I’ll make you a list and give it to you tonight. Maybe you can pick one for the next time you lead the book group,” she said, knowing perfectly well Sam’s tastes usually ran to celebrity memoirs and the occasional meaty historical drama.

  “Perfect. So you said Jamie’s been there three hours. Has he brought any women home yet? Are they gorgeous?”

  Oh, cripes. She hadn’t even thought about that.

  “Again. I’ve been working here the entire time. I don’t expect I’ll have much reason to talk to the man at all.”

  Sam looked disappointed that she didn’t have more dirt to dish up about her new tenant. “I might have to find some kind of excuse tonight to borrow a cup of sugar from your upstairs neighbor.”

  “You would probably be disappointed. I’m not sure how many groceries he’ll have on hand. He seemed to be traveling light, just a duffel and a couple of boxes. One of them might have sugar, but I have a feeling baking cookies isn’t his primary goal in life.”

  Sam snickered. “From what I hear, that’s an understatement.”

  Why, oh why, had she ever said yes to Eliza?

  Julia sighed and finished checking out the book for Sam. “Here you go,” she said.

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  “Bundle up. It looks nasty out there,” she said, as her friend slipped the book club selection into her slouchy hand-sewn purse.

  Sam tightened her scarf and pulled on matching mittens. “The perfect weather for an afternoon of cuddling by the fire with hot cocoa and a certain someone. I don’t have a fireplace or a certain someone right now, so I might have to settle for hot cocoa and the latest episode in the series I’m glomming right now.”

  That actually sounded like a lovely afternoon to Julia, if she didn’t have to work.

  “Here’s an idea,” she suggested. “You could always actually read the book you just checked out. We don’t meet until eight tonight.”

  She would have preferred earlier, but the late meeting was a concession for those who had small children and liked to get bedtime out of the way first.

  “Maybe. I’ll have to see. Catch you later tonight. Give Jamie a kiss for me.”

  She rolled her eyes as Sam gave a cheery wave and headed out the door.

  Sam always made Julia feel ancient. She wasn’t sure why. Yes, she was a few years older than Sam’s twenty-six, but thirty-two didn’t exactly make her a tottering old crone, did it?

  Give Jamie a kiss for me. Why did Sam have to put that particular image in her head? The very thought of it left her feeling slightly breathless.

  What was she going to do about this ridiculous crush she had on the man?

  For the rest of the afternoon, she tried to put thoughts of Jamie out of her mind. It helped that the library was far busier than she expected for the Monday before Thanksgiving. She would have thought everyone in town would be too busy grocery shopping or cleaning their houses for upcoming family parties. Instead, a regular stream of patrons came through, renting videos, seeking reference information, or trying to go online. And plenty of her patrons still checked out books, much to her continual delight.

  “Here you go,” she said as she scanned in Muriel Randall’s regular weekly allotment of cozy mysteries. “That should hold you for a few days.”

  “I figured I had better stock up. We’ve got snow coming tomorrow, plus you’re closed on Thursday and Friday. I would hate to run out.”

  Julia smiled at the neatly dressed older woman whose late husband had once run the butcher shop in town. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving dinner?” she asked.

  Muriel slipped the books into her library bag with a smile that looked more than a little forced. “I was supposed to go to my son’s house in Boise, but his wife decided they should go to her family’s again this year. I’ll probably cook a turkey tenderloin and cuddle in with a good book.”

  Julia’s throat tightened, both at the lonely image Muriel painted and because it felt entirely too familiar, given her own circumstances. “I’m helping to serve at the nursing home in Shelter Springs this year,” she said. “We can always use another set of hands. Why don’t you join me?”

  “What could I do?” Muriel held up her shaky, wrinkled hands. “I’m not much good in the kitchen these days. I’m afraid I would cut myself.”

  “There’s plenty to do. You can help set the table or set out water glasses or be the official greeter. I would love to have the company, and I would be happy to give you a ride.”

  Muriel looked touched. “Thank you for the invitation. That’s very nice of you. It might be better than sitting home by myself.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a maybe. I’ll think about it,” she said.

  She smiled. “Perfect. Unless I hear otherwise, I’ll plan on picking you up about 10:00 a.m. on Thursday.”

  “I said I’ll think about it,” Muriel said in an exasperated tone. “Give me five minutes to do that, would you?”

  “You can have from now until 10:00 a.m. on Thursday,” Julia said.

  The older woman snorted as she picked up her book bag and headed for the door.

  After she left, Julia glanced at the clock. The library closed early on Monday nights and only a few patrons remained.

  She walked through, reminding those stragglers that the library would be closing in ten minutes. To her surprise, in one of the alcoves in the children’s section, she found two young boys she had seen come in hours earlier after school.

  They must be dedicated readers, since she had seen them here Friday and most of the day Saturday, too.

  As a librarian, she certainly couldn’t find fault with that, though she did think it a little odd, especially since she hadn’t seen them here very often, prior to the previous weekend.

  They looked up when she approached them. “The library is going to be closing in a few moments,” she said, glancing out the window where the gray light of early evening was punctuated by a few stray snow flurries. “Do you have someone coming to pick you up?”

  The younger boy opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again with a quick, somewhat nervous look at the older boy. Up close, it was obvious the boys were related. Both had wavy hair the color of rawhide, a scattering of freckles across their respective noses and eyes the same shade of green.

  The older boy, who looked to be about eight or nine, placed a hand on his brother’s arm—whether in reassurance or warning, she couldn’t quite tell. “Yes,” he said. “We can get a ride.”

  “Good. It’s dark out there and can be dangerous for pedestrians, especially this time of year when the roads are icy.”

  “We’ll be fine. Come on, Davy. Let’s put these books away and get our coats on.”

  His brother didn’t look thrilled at the order, but he obediently scooped up the large stack of picture books beside him.

  “You know you can just put them in the return cart, right?” Julia said. “That way we can make sure they’re reshelved in the right place.”

  The younger boy nodded. “If they get all mixed up, people won’t know where to look if they want to read them. That’s what Clinton told me.”

  “Clinton is exactly right,” she said. She always admired when children could be respectful of others. “Thank you so much for your help with keeping the library organized.”<
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  She had other duties that occupied her attention for the next few moments, while she prepared to close down the library. Still, she kept an eye out for the boys as they returned books and loaded their belongings into two ragged-looking backpacks.

  Who were these boys? She couldn’t remember them ever coming in with a parent or guardian. Come to think of it, she didn’t know if they had ever used a library card that might have an identifying name on it. They never checked out books, only seemed interested in reading storybooks in the library.

  There was a time when she knew just about everyone in Haven Point. The town was growing so much these days, with the development of the new Caine Tech facility a few years earlier. New people were moving in all the time, and she found it hard to keep up with them all.

  After she checked the library one more time, then turned off the lights and locked the door, Julia hurried outside. Her new matador-red Lexus SUV was the only vehicle in the parking lot, and when she unlocked the door, the intoxicating smell of glossy leather seats greeted her.

  The engine purred to life, and she sighed with guilty pleasure. She loved this vehicle, even if it was a big reason her cash flow had slowed enough that she had to rent out the top floor of her house.

  As she carefully pulled out of the parking lot, she noticed the two boys passing under a streetlight about a block down the road.

  She frowned, troubled for reasons she couldn’t quite identify. They had lied when they said someone was picking them up. Though in retrospect, they hadn’t actually said that. We can call someone to pick us up. That’s what the older boy said, not we will call someone.

  She hoped they didn’t have far to walk. Those stray snowflakes on the November wind could bite into bare skin like tiny, vicious arrows.

  Where did they live? If the boys came in the next night and again stayed until closing, she would investigate further.

  For now, she had to worry about the book club showing up at her house in twenty minutes.