Chapter 4
DARCY
Iwake up confused in the pink light of dawn—my body is cocooned in warm blankets, but my face is as cold as a frozen hamburger patty.
Something is not right. I normally wake up in my overheated city apartment to the loudest alarm sound my phone has to offer. But there is no alarm today.
I bolt upright as the panicky sensation of being late washes over me, until I remember that I’m not going to be late for Mr. Lockwood. I’m with him already.
I picture him sleeping in the room next to this one, his handsome face relaxed in dreams, and I blush from head to toe.
Stop it, I order myself, leaping out of bed and sucking in a breath as my feet hit the icy floor. The wood planks are so cold it’s almost painful to touch them.
Grabbing some clothing from my suitcase, I steady myself and then tiptoe to the door and open it an inch at a time, hoping it won’t squeak on its hinges. It’s so silent here compared to the city—it feels like even the smallest noise could wake someone.
Thankfully, not a sound comes from Derek’s room.
I head down the hallway to the bathroom and take the quickest shower I can. The hot water feels incredible, but I’m hoping I’ll have time to start some coffee and then maybe try to figure out the wood stove before my boss wakes up and we have other problems to solve.
Once I’m dressed I tiptoe to the kitchen. As the coffee brews, I slip over to the front windows to look out at the snowy woods.
Last night it was dark and the trees were hauntingly beautiful. This morning it’s absolutely magical. The pink sunrise reflects on the snow and the frosted trees look almost soft—like the painted ones on set of The Nutcracker ballet my mom used to take me to see every Christmas.
A flash of movement catches my eye and my mouth drops open.
I guess I didn’t have to worry about making noise this morning after all because Mr. Lockwood—Derek—is dressed and outside already.
He’s not even wearing a coat. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows again and his skin is lightly flushed, his dark hair falling in his face as he swings an ax to split a big chunk of wood.
If I thought he was attractive when he was pacing the boardroom in an expensive suit, or whipping a rented SUV around the curves of Angel Mountain, I was all wrong. This is a version of Derek Lockwood that puts all others to shame.
I’m so busy admiring his brute strength and the expression of satisfaction on his face every time the wood falls away from his ax that I forget that windows work both ways.
He glances up between swings and our eyes lock.
It feels like I’ve been struck by lightning. My skin heats, my heart beats a wild tattoo, and my feet are frozen in place.
Turn around and walk away, my mind begs me.
But it’s Mr. Lockwood—Derek!—who turns away first, the corner of his mouth tugging up again in that way that tells me he finds something funny.
Finally, the heat of shame melts my frozen feet and I flee from the window.
How dare he laugh at me? He’s the one out there setting a thirst trap for his innocent assistant.
But I know that’s not actually true. The poor man was just chopping wood to keep us both from freezing to death. He didn’t go out there to be ogled like a new laptop.
A new laptop?
Ugh. Even my fantasies are boring.
I decide to check some emails to get my mind off my embarrassment.
Unsurprisingly, there are about a million messages for Derek—was that so hard?—even though we were clear with everyone that he would be unreachable up here for the weekend.
I quickly start laying out a rundown for him of the few that might be a priority, though I doubt anything is going to take him back to the city before the weekend is over. I know he doesn’t want to say it, and neither do I, but this might be all the time he has left with his grandfather.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, and I’m just finishing the rundown when I hear the front door open.
“Got us some wood,” he says as he steps in, his deep voice booming in the cold air of the cabin. “Coffee smells good.”
I watch in silence as he carries over an armload of firewood and opens up the stove.
Clearly he’s not going to tease me for staring at him, so that’s good. I pour coffee for both of us, putting a little of the powdered creamer and sugar from the canisters in the cupboard in mine, and leaving his black, how he likes it.
That black coffee used to stress me out.
Without cream and sugar to hide it, he always notices any inconsistency in the brew.
But I know exactly how he wants it done now, and I measure out the grounds like a scientist so it’s the perfect blend to make him groan in satisfaction over the first sip every time.
He straightens up and meets me at the counter just as I set down his mug.
He scowls at it suspiciously for a moment before picking it up and taking a swig.
I can’t help staring at him as I wait, and when he lets out that little groan of pleasure at the taste I know I’ve nailed it and I feel the same moment of perfect satisfaction he’s feeling.
“Hey,” he says, his dark eyes flashing to mine. “How’d you do that?”
“I brought your coffee from the office,” I tell him, secretly pleased that he noticed.
“You think of everything,” he tells me approvingly before taking another swig.
It’s probably pathetic that I take so much pride in pleasing this man with a good cup of coffee. I went to business school. I once dreamed of handling the organization of a big corporation.
The phone rings and the jangling sound of it almost makes me drop my own coffee mug. It’s not the usual sound of one of our cell phones. It’s the landline with an actual rotary dial installed on the kitchen wall that I figured was just a relic of earlier days.
And it’s about as loud as a fire alarm.
Out of instinct, I rush over and pick it up, even though I can’t imagine it’s actually for us. We didn’t give this number out to anyone. I didn’t even know it existed.
“Derek Lockwood’s, uh, cabin,” I say, wishing I’d decided how to respond before I picked up.
“It’s Michael,” a distraught female voice says. “He just collapsed.”
My stomach drops and I look to my boss.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“The lodge,” she says. “Please tell Derek.”
“We’ll be right there,” I tell her.
“Who was that?” Derek asks.
“Someone from the lodge,” I tell him as I run to the door and start shoving my feet in my boots. “Your grandfather is there. He collapsed.”
We head out together without another word, pulling on our coats as we go.
Please let him be okay, I pray as we practically run along the drive and up to the lodge.
I’ve only known the man for a few hours and he’s already special to me. I can’t imagine what it would do to Derek to lose his grandfather without having the chance to say goodbye.
By the time we get to the lodge, I’m hoping we’ve beat the ambulance. What if they’ve already taken Michael?
Derek opens the door to the lodge himself and I feel a pang.
It’s warm inside, but very quiet. A group of people are crouched on the floor around a prone figure.
Please, please, please, I pray.
“Mr. Lockwood,” Maddie says, standing. “He’s awake now.”
“Is that my grandson?” a weak voice asks.
“Hey, Grandpa,” Derek says, his voice rich with a calm I know he doesn’t feel.
A lady in a housekeeping uniform moves to allow Derek room to join his grandfather.
“I’m so embarrassed,” Michael says. “Got a little lightheaded there. I forgot to eat breakfast. Guess I can’t get away with that at my age.”
It’s clearly the flimsy excuse of a sick man who doesn’t want to admit his weakness. But to Derek’s credit, he doesn’t bat an eye.
“Would you like me to help you onto the couch?” he offers.
“Oh, I can get up on my own,” Michael says making no effort to do so.
And there’s no need, because Derek takes his grandfather in his arms and lifts him effortlessly to the sofa, depositing him so gently it makes my heart ache.
Maddie appears at Michael’s side with a glass of water. She must have been in the lobby writing again today. Her laptop sits abandoned on one of the tables.
“Just tiny sips, okay?” she tells him, and I recognize her voice as the one that called us at the cabin. “The ambulance will be here soon.”
“Oh dear, no,” Michael says, looking horrified. “I don’t need an ambulance.”
“We’ll just let them check you out, Grandpa,” Derek says smoothly. “Since they’re already on their way. You know they don’t get enough calls up on the mountain for the young guys to get their training hours.”
It’s a clever way to let his grandfather save face and Michael frowns a bit but he doesn’t argue. He even takes a small sip of water.
“Back to work, everyone,” Margo announces loudly. “Let Michael catch his breath.”
“Sorry for the trouble,” Michael says sadly as everyone floats back to whatever they must have been doing before he collapsed.
I guess it’s early enough that it was only the staff out here to see him fall and not any of the guests. It’s a saving grace for the man in a way, that it happened while he was surrounded by friends.
But he lives on his own. I can’t imagine if something like this happened at his house and there was no one there to help him.
“You can’t keep working like this, Grandpa,” Derek says as soon as we’re more or less alone with him. “It’s time for you to step back.”
“This place is my world,” Michael whispers. “And they need me.”
“I need you,” Derek tells him. “I wanted to ask your help with something. Darcy, can you give us a moment? Maybe go get something to eat?”
“Of course, um… Derek,” I say, almost reverting back to Mr. Lockwood in all the commotion.
Thankfully, Michael is too busy concentrating on taking another tiny sip of water to notice.
I scramble out to the dining hall, wondering how I’m supposed to eat when I’m worried like this. But when the chef appears with a pitcher of water and tells me he’s going to make me some Christmas crêpes, I suddenly think that I might just be able to choke something down after all.
At least it will give me something to do while I wait to find out what’s going to happen with Michael.
A moment later I’ve got another steaming cup of coffee in front of me and a plate of gorgeous crêpes stuffed with sweet cream, strawberries, and kiwi—I guess it’s the color of the red and green fruit that make these Christmas crêpes.
They smell incredible and I’m about to dig in when Derek appears.
“The ambulance is here,” he tells me, pulling out a chair. “Old Doc Waterson is here too. He pulled me aside and told me to leave so Michael wouldn’t think he had to pretend it was all nothing in front of me.”
“Oh, Derek,” I say, not realizing until after I’ve said it that we’re alone and I have no reason to use his first name.
But he covers my hand with his and squeezes, and I realize he does need my comfort right now.
“Lockwood,” a male voice says.
I turn to see Maddie is back, this time with a massive guy in a Henley top and jeans. He’s dressed casually, but he carries himself like some kind of royalty, and I realize this must be Jake Stone, the owner of the place.
“Jake,” Derek says, making as if to rise.
“Sit, sit,” Jake tells him. “I hope you don’t mind Maddie and me interrupting. We just wanted to bring you up to speed.”
Normally, a meeting between people with the combined wealth of these two happens in a boardroom full of lawyers or a superyacht full of models. It’s odd to see them in such a casual setting. Like when you’re a kid and see your teachers outside of school.
“Thanks,” Derek tells him, and I can see the pain in his eyes. Why should he have to be brought up to speed on his own grandfather’s condition by people who aren’t even in the family?
Because he hasn’t seen him in person in five years, an unhelpful voice in the back of my mind whispers.
“He loves this place,” Maddie says softly. “And we love him too—everyone does. He’s refusing to go home or to the hospital, but we think we have a solution.”
“What’s that?” Derek asks her.
“We’ve got a nice room for him here, no charge,” Jake says. “It’s not fancy, but it’s right on the first floor by the lounge, so the staff can stop by and check on him throughout the day.”
“And visit with him,” Maddie puts in.
“And visit with him,” Jake echoes with a smile. “Our son Dylan adores Michael, so I can guarantee that he’ll have at least one daily after-school visitor.”
“We’ll all be able to spend a little time with him,” Maddie says with a warm smile. “He may need some extra help though.”
“I’ll find him a health aide,” Derek says right away. “You all won’t be responsible for his care.”
“That’s a good idea,” Jake says, nodding.
“Thank you,” Derek says, his voice a bit husky with emotion. “You’ve been here for him, all these years.”
“Our family has only been here one year,” Maddie puts in. “But yes, the staff here is like a family. If Michael agrees to stay I think he’ll be comfortable.”
Her voice is a little strained too—we’re probably all inches away from crying. But for me, it’s happy tears too, not just sad ones. It’s so good to see that Derek’s grandfather has this kind of support.
Jake and Maddie take their leave and head out of the dining room, and I’m alone with Derek again.
“Listen,” he says. “I need your help with a couple of things.”
“Okay,” I say, turning to face him.
He’s got this look on his face, like he’s trying to guess something about me.
“I’d like to stay through the holidays,” he says. “I want to find a really good nurse for him and make sure he’s got everything he needs.”
I think what he really wants is to spend more time with his grandfather. But it makes perfect sense either way.
“Of course,” I tell him.
Staying that long is a far cry from a weekend getaway, but I can make it work.
I think. I’m so glad I grabbed my bag on the way out the door.
It’s got my laptop and charger, so I can get started attacking his schedule immediately while I finally eat these crêpes.
I move to grab it off the back of my chair so I can get right to work, but his hand captures mine and I freeze immediately.
“One more thing,” he says.
I turn back to him, ready to hear what it is. But he’s just looking at me, like he’s not sure what to say.
Derek Lockwood can be many things—grumpy, quiet, passionate.
I’ve never seen him uncertain before.
“He’s got a lot of pride,” Derek says after a moment. “He’s used to being relied on at work.”
I nod slowly. That’s a feeling I understand pretty well myself.
“But it’s clear he can’t continue,” Derek goes on. “He was so downcast and ashamed about it. But I told him that I’d been meaning to ask him to take some time off anyway.”
“That’s why we’re staying,” I say, nodding. “So you can spend time with him and ease him into his retirement.”
“Yes, but he’ll never go for that,” Derek says, shaking his head. “So I want to tell him we’re planning to stay because I’m going to propose to you here at the lodge.”