скачать книгу бесплатно
Akna had been silently crying, but her pain now turned to uncontrollable sobbing. “Wh-why did this h-happen?”
Lyle slipped his arm around her.
Sophie closed her eyes in prayer.
Mason felt emotionally detached from the scene, as if he were watching a movie. What was he doing here? This was no longer his life.
Sophie abruptly stood. The once-sleeping infant she’d cradled was startled by the sudden movement and whimpered.
“Here, Mr. Mom.” She thrust the baby into his arms. “You think yourself an expert, take over.”
Mason didn’t even know which baby he held, let alone what to do when her fitful protest turned into a full-blown wail.
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Hattie held Vanessa with her right arm, struggling to unlock her sister and brother-in-law’s former home. Mason stood behind her with Vivian, who hadn’t stopped crying since leaving her grandparents.
“She always like this?” Mason set the bulging diaper bag on the porch.
“Usually, they’re both easygoing, but it’s been a rough couple days—for everyone.”
“Yeah.”
She finally got the key turned and opened the door on a house cold and dark and lonely enough to have been a tomb. When Melissa and Alec had been alive, the A-frame log cabin glowed with warmth and laughter. Her sister had been a wonderful cook and she’d always had something delicious baking or bubbling in one of her cast-iron pots.
The storm had passed and the two-story living room featured a glass wall looking out on all of Treehorn Valley and Mount Kneely beyond. Moonlight reflecting off the snow cast a frosty bluish pallor over what Hattie knew to be warm-toned pine furniture upholstered in a vibrant red-orange and yellow inukshuk pattern.
“Cold in here.” Mason closed the door with his foot. “Think the furnace is out?”
“Probably. It’s a wood-burning system with propane backup. The temperature’s been so mild, Alec probably didn’t have it going for the season yet.”
“Is it downstairs?”
She nodded, wandering through the open space, turning on lamps and overhead lights.
“I’ll check it out, but in the meantime, what do you want me to do with this one?” He nodded at still-sniffling and red-eyed Vivian.
“I’ll take her.” Melissa kept a playpen in the warmest kitchen corner. Hattie set Vanessa in it, then took Vivian. Since the air was cold enough to see her breath, she kept the girls’ outerwear on while she made a fire in the living room’s river-stone hearth.
Being in her sister’s home without Melissa unnerved her. Hattie normally occupied the one-bedroom efficiency apartment above her waterfront bar. It was small, cramped and cozy. Just the way she liked it. This space was too large for her taste. Though beautifully decorated in what she supposed was the classic Alaskan hunting lodge look, featuring an antler chandelier and an oil painting of snowcapped Mount Kneely over the mantel, this was her sister’s dream house—not hers. Hattie thrived among clutter.
The house shuddered when the sleeping furnace lumbered awake.
A few minutes later when warm air flowed through the vents, gratitude swelled in Hattie for Mason handling at least that issue. She would’ve eventually gotten the unit started, but having one less worry was welcome.
Vivian fussed, reaching for her hat.
“I know, sweetie, it’s annoying, but until it warms up in here, let’s keep it on, okay?” Hattie knelt before the playpen, patting the infant’s back.
Mason’s boots clomped on the hardwood stairs. “Alec has enough wood to last the week, so as long as one of us remembers to feed the beast, we’ll at least be warm for the time being. Before winter sets in, though, I’ll have to stockpile a legit supply. I’ll make a fire up here, too.”
“Already did, but it probably needs stoking.”
Both babies were back to fussing. Were they hungry?
Hands to her throbbing forehead, Hattie wished she’d taken more than a casual interest in her nieces. Playing with them had been a much higher priority than an activity as mundane as meals. Hattie knew Melissa had breastfed, supplemented by formula, but the exact powder-to-water ratio escaped her.
“Since I’m over here, handling man work,” Mason said from the hearth, “how about you do something about the kids’ racket?”
“Love to, but it’s gonna take a sec to get the formula mixed.”
By the time Hattie finished, dancing firelight banished the living room’s dark corners, but did little to ease the pain in her heart.
Both babies still fussed, which only made her fumble more. At the bar, she thrived under the chaotic pressure of a busy Friday or Saturday night. This was different.
“Need help?” Behind her, Mason hovered. His radiated heat further unnerved her. The situation was already beyond horrible. Tossing her old high school crush into the mix only made matters worse. And here she’d thought Melissa and Mason’s wedding had been hard? This was a thousand times tougher.
“Sure.” She managed to swallow past the emotional brick lodged in her throat. “You take Vanessa and a bottle and I’ll grab Vivian.”
In front of the playpen, he scratched his head. “Love to do just that, only I don’t have a clue which one is Vanessa.”
“You’ll learn. Although there are still times I’m not sure, Vanessa typically has a more laid-back disposition. Vivian has no trouble letting you know she’s displeased.”
As if she knew her aunt was talking smack about her, Vivian upped the volume on her wail.
He snorted. “Sounds like you and your sister.”
For the first time since the funeral, Hattie genuinely smiled. “Never thought of it like that, but you nailed your assessment—which makes me an awful person, right?”
“Not even close,” he said over the infant’s cry. “Melissa was a handful and were she here with us, she’d be first to admit it—with a proud smile.”
“True.”
When they each cradled an infant, they settled on the sofa in front of the fire.
Hattie plucked off the twins’ hats and mittens, then gave Vivian her bottle. The sudden silence save for the fire’s crackle and the twins’ occasional grunts and sighs made for much-welcomed peace.
“Sorry about what happened at my parents’. That was an ugly scene.”
“No worries.” He shifted Vanessa to hold her in the crook of his other arm. “I don’t blame them for being upset—Alec’s folks, too. They’ve got to be feeling out of the loop.”
“I suppose. But it doesn’t have to be that way. They’re welcome to see these two whenever they’d like. They chose to run back to Florida.”
“I know, but think of this from their perspective. Alec used to be my best friend, then I caught him sleeping with my wife and never spoke to him again. Cindy and Taylor were like second parents to me. Growing up, I ate more dinners at their house than mine. Everything’s so mixed up, you know? Part of me was glad to see them at the funeral—at least until I remembered they were part of the enemy team. I imagine they feel the same?”
“Probably.” Vivian had thankfully drifted off to sleep. Hattie gently leaned forward, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Wonder if my sister even talked about her will with Alec? Or her prophetic dreams?”
“Guess we’ll never know.”
On the surface, Mason’s words were simple enough, but the finality of that word—never—hit Hattie hard. Up until now, she’d been too wrapped up in the ceremony of her sister’s death to consider the impact of losing someone she’d dearly loved.
At the hospital, during Melissa’s last hours, Hattie had stayed strong for her parents—especially her mom. Then there’d been planning the funeral and reception. Steeling herself for the reading of Melissa’s will. Now there was nothing left to do except begin her new life by essentially stepping into her sister’s.
How many times when Melissa had been married to Mason had Hattie prayed for just such a thing?
In light of her current situation, this fact shamed her. So much so that the tears she’d so carefully held inside now spilled in ugly sobs.
After handing Vivian to Mason, Hattie dashed upstairs, not even sure where she was going, just knowing she needed to be alone.
Chapter Four
Swell.
Mason glanced over his shoulder at Hattie’s departing back, then down at the two sleeping infants. What was he supposed to do now? How had he even landed in this impossible situation?
From somewhere upstairs, a door slammed. But the house wasn’t solid enough to mask Hattie’s cries.
His heart went out to her. Losing Melissa had to be tough.
He’d have no doubt been upset himself if he hadn’t already mourned their relationship’s death. Then there was the stunt she’d pulled with her letter—the matchmaking bit. What the hell? Poor Hattie had plenty to be upset about, and he hoped she didn’t think he’d taken any of her sister’s ramblings seriously.
“Ladies,” he mumbled to what amounted to maybe twenty pounds of snoozing babies, “I should probably check on your aunt, but that leaves me in a bind as to what to do with you.”
They didn’t stir.
Since he already cradled one, he made an awkward position change on the couch in order to scoop up the other. Holding both, he slowly rose, then headed for the kitchen, assuming the kiddy corral would be safe enough until he got back.
Their little arms and legs jolted upon landing.
The house was still on the chilly side, so he left them on their backs, wearing their coats.
At the top of the stairs was a loft library he ventured through to gain access to a hall. He forged down it, intent on not just finding Hattie, but stopping her tears. The sound ripped through him. Took him back to when she’d been thirteen and broke her ankle after using scrap sheet metal for a sled. He’d carried her home and made sure she was okay back then and he’d sure as hell do the same now.
He passed a bedroom, the nursery and a bath before reaching the one closed door Hattie had hidden behind. He opened it to step into what could only be the master. A miniversion of the living room’s A-frame window wall overlooked a spectacular snowy night scene.
Hattie sat hunched over and crying on the foot of a king-size bed positioned to take maximum advantage of the view.
Mason’s first thought should’ve been comforting her, but all he seemed able to focus on were Alec and Melissa. What they’d done in that cozy bed. How his wife and best friend had betrayed him to an unimaginable degree.
Snapping himself out of his own issues with the deceased, he sat next to Hattie, easing his arm around her as naturally as he always had. “I’m sorry.”
She cried all the harder, struggled to escape him, but he drew her closer, onto his lap, where he held her for all she was worth, all the while gently stroking her hair. “Shh...everything’s going to be okay.”
“No,” she said with a sniffle and shake of her head. “Part of me feels like I did this. I hid so much resentment that she had not one amazing man, b-but two. Then she got the perfect babies I’d always wanted. H-her life was everything mine wasn’t. I used to wish I could be her—just for a day. But I never wanted her gone, Mason. I—I loved her so much....”
Sobs racked Hattie’s frame, and for the first time since losing Melissa to divorce, Mason felt helpless. As a SEAL, he’d been trained to handle any contingency. Make flash life-or-death decisions, but this one had him stumped. How did he begin comforting Hattie when he harbored such ill will toward her sister and brother-in-law? Now that he was both legally and honor bound to care for their children?
It was too much.
“What if she’s somehow looking down on me? And knows I coveted what she had? But I never in a million years wanted it like this. She meant the world to me. More than anything when we were all kids, I wanted to be just like her. As an adult, I realized that wasn’t going to happen, but that didn’t stop the yearning. Still, I did love her. She has to know. Has to.”
“I loved her, too, Hat Trick.” He used to call Hattie that when she’d challenged him to pond hockey. “For her to leave you her children, you have to know she loved you every bit as much?”
She nodded.
Drawing back, he lightly touched her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. Though the room was dark, moonlight reflecting off the snow reinforced the fact that she was far from being the little girl and teen Mason remembered. Hattie was all grown up. Even tear-stained, her face was one of the loveliest he’d ever seen. In many ways, she resembled her sister—big brown eyes and long dark hair. Yet she had higher cheekbones, fuller lips. Where she lacked Melissa’s petite stature, her full curves made her more womanly.
Pushing back, she turned away, fussing with her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out on you like that. Some parent I’ll make, huh?”
“Give yourself a break. This is a full-on nightmare—even if neither of us had any issues simmering on the old back burner. Honestly, I didn’t even want to come to the funeral and figured the will could be handled via email or over the phone. Dad convinced me I’d regret it if I didn’t come.”
“Speaking of him, have you let him know?”
Mason shook his head. “I’ll give him a call.”
A few feet away, she shivered. She crossed her arms and ran her hands up and down them.
He should’ve gotten off the bed to hold her—at least find a blanket to wrap her in, but his feet were frozen in place.
“Guess I should check on the babies.”
“They’re fine. As open as this place is, if they were in trouble, we’d hear them crying.”
“Still...”
He sighed. “They’re fine.”
Ignoring him, she left the room, heading toward the stairs. A few minutes later, just as he’d suggested, the sound of her cooing over them carried all the way to where he still sat.
Honestly, he felt more than a little shell-shocked by the whole turn of events. Now he was not only mad at Melissa for hooking up with Alec, but for apparently thinking so highly of herself as to presume he’d want her matchmaking services. As if that weren’t despicable enough, she’d thought it a good idea to use her own babies as manipulative tools? The whole thing was psycho. He might’ve long ago loved her, but at the moment, he didn’t even kind of like her.
Hattie’s big brown eyes flashed before him, reminding him why he hadn’t told Benton to take a flying leap. His being here, in this house, in the very room where Alec and Melissa had made love, wasn’t about allegiance to his ex, but her sister.
Hattie had always been there for him and he now owed her the same.
He made a quick call to his dad, bringing him up to speed on the will and how he’d be staying at Melissa and Alec’s until his day in court. His dad wasn’t the chatty type, so once the facts were delivered, Mason hung up.
Downstairs, he found Hattie removing the girls’ coats and soft boots. “Want me to help you get them in their cribs?”
“Sure. But they both need fresh diapers.”
He blanched. “Not my idea of a good time, but show me what to do.”
Together they took the babies upstairs, and Hattie walked him through a diaper change. “Diaper removal is pretty self-explanatory. From there, use a few wipes, assess if you think she needs rash cream or powder, then—”
“Okay, whoa—I’m great at assessing, but I usually have a list of parameters to work with.”
Hattie wrinkled her nose, and damned if she didn’t strike him as cute. “You lost me.”
