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The industrial-strength flashlight was more than strong enough to reveal the carnage from the previous night’s storm. An enormous tree lay across the midline of the house at a forty-five-degree angle. The force of the falling trunk had crushed the roof. Even from this vantage point, it was clear that the structure was open to the elements.
“Good Lord.” He glanced behind him instinctively, realizing with sick dismay that Phoebe’s home could have suffered a similar fate. “You must have been scared to death.”
She grimaced. “I’ve had better nights. It happened about 3:00 a.m. The boom woke me up. I didn’t try to go out then, of course. So it was daylight before I realized how bad it was.”
“You haven’t tried to cover the roof?”
She chuckled. “Do I look like Superwoman? I know my own limitations, Mr. Cavallo. I’ve called my insurance company, but needless to say, they’ve been inundated with claims from the storm. Supposedly, an agent will be here tomorrow afternoon, but I’m not holding my breath. Everything inside the house got soaked when the tree fell, because it was raining so hard. The damage was already done. It’s not like I could have helped matters.”
He supposed she had a point. But that still left the issue of where he was expected to stay. Despite his grumblings to Luc and Hattie, now that he was finally here, the idea of kicking back for a while wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Perhaps he could find himself in the great outdoors. Maybe even discover a new appreciation for life, which as he so recently had found out, was both fragile and precious.
Phoebe touched his arm. “If you’ve seen enough, let’s go back. I’m not going to send you out on the road again in this miserable weather. You’re welcome to stay the night with me.”
They reversed their steps as Leo allowed Phoebe to take the lead. The steady beam of light led them without incident back to his car. The porch light was still on, adding to a feeling of welcome. Phoebe waved a hand at the cabin. “Why don’t you go inside and warm up? Your sister-in-law told me you’ve been in the hospital. I’d be happy to bring in your luggage if you tell me what you’ll need.”
Leo’s neck heated with embarrassment and frustration. Damn Hattie and her mother-hen instincts. “I can get my own bags,” he said curtly. “But thank you.” He added that last bit grudgingly. Poor Phoebe had no reason to know that his recent illness was a hot-button issue for him. He was a young man. Being treated like an invalid made him nuts. And for whatever reason, it was especially important to him that the lovely Phoebe see him as a competent, capable male, and not someone she had to babysit.
His mental meanderings must not have lasted as long as he thought, because Phoebe was still at his side when he heard—very distinctly—the cry of a baby. He whirled around, expecting to see that another car had made its way up the narrow road. But he and Phoebe were alone in the night.
A second, less palatable possibility occurred to him. He’d read that a bobcat’s cry could emulate that of an upset infant’s. And the Smoky Mountains were home to any number of those nocturnal animals. Before he could speculate further, the sound came again.
Phoebe shoved the flashlight toward him. “Here. Keep this. I’ve got to go inside.”
He took it automatically, and grinned. “So you’re leaving me out here alone with a scary animal stalking us?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The bobcat. Isn’t that what we’re hearing?”
Phoebe laughed softly, a pleasing sensual sound that made the hair on his arms stand up even more than the odd noise had. “Despite your interesting imagination,” she said with a chuckle, “no.” She reached in her pocket and removed the small electronic device he had noticed earlier. Not a camera, but a monitor. “The noise you hear that sounds like a crying baby is actually a baby. And I’d better get in there fast before all heck breaks loose.”
Two
Leo stood there gaping at her even after the front door slammed shut. It was only the realization his hands were in danger of frostbite that galvanized him into motion. In short order he found the smaller of the two suitcases he had brought. Slinging the strap across one shoulder, he then reached for his computer briefcase and a small garment bag.
Locking the car against any intruders, human or otherwise, he walked up the steps, let himself in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Phoebe standing by the fire, a small infant whimpering on her shoulder as she rubbed its back. Leo couldn’t quite sort out his emotions. The scene by the hearth was beautiful. His sister-in-law, Hattie, wore that same look on her face when she cuddled her two little ones.
But a baby meant there was a daddy in the picture somewhere, and though Leo had only met this particular Madonna and child today, he knew the feeling in the pit of his stomach was disappointment. Phoebe didn’t wear a wedding ring, but he could see a resemblance between mother and child. Their noses were identical.
Leo would simply have to ignore this inconvenient attraction, because Phoebe was clearly not available. And though he adored his niece and nephew, he was not the kind of man who went around bouncing kids on his knee and playing patty-cake.
Phoebe looked up and smiled. “This is Teddy. His full name is Theodore, but at almost six months, he hasn’t quite grown into it yet.”
Leo kicked off his shoes for the second time that night and set down his luggage. Padding toward the fire, he mustered a smile. “He’s cute.”
“Not nearly as cute at three in the morning.” Phoebe’s expression as she looked down at the baby was anything but aggravated. She glowed.
“Not a good sleeper?”
She bristled at what she must have heard as implied criticism. “He does wonderfully for his age. Don’t you, my love?” The baby had settled and was sucking his fist. Phoebe nuzzled his neck. “Most evenings he’s out for the count from ten at night until six or seven in the morning. But I think he may be cutting a tooth.”
“Not fun, I’m sure.”
Phoebe switched the baby to her left arm, holding him against her side. “Let me show you the guest room. I don’t think we’ll disturb you even if I have to get up with him during the night.”
He followed her down a short hallway past what was obviously Phoebe’s suite all the way to the back right corner of the house. A chill hit him as soon as they entered the bedroom.
“Sorry,” she said. “The vents have been closed off, but it will warm up quickly.”
He looked around curiously. “This is nice.” A massive king-size bed made of rough timbers dominated the room. Hunter-green draperies covered what might have been a large picture window. The attached bathroom, decorated in shades of sand and beige, included a Jacuzzi tub and a roomy shower stall. Except for the tiled floor in the bathroom, the rest of the space boasted the same attractive hardwood he’d seen in the remainder of the house, covered here and there by colorful rugs.
Phoebe hovered, the baby now asleep. “Make yourself at home. If you’re interested in staying in the area, I can help you make some calls in the morning.”
Leo frowned. “I paid a hefty deposit. I’m not interested in staying anywhere else.”
A trace of pique flitted across Phoebe’s face, but she answered him calmly. “I’ll refund your money, of course. You saw the cabin. It’s unlivable. Even with a speedy insurance settlement, finding people to do the work will probably be difficult. I can’t even guesstimate how long it will be before everything is fixed.”
Leo thought about the long drive from Atlanta. He hadn’t wanted to come here at all. And yesterday’s storm damage was his ticket out. All he had to do was tell Luc and Hattie, and his doctor, that circumstances had conspired against him. He could be back in Atlanta by tomorrow night.
But something—stubbornness maybe—made him contrary. “Where is Mr. Kemper in all this? Shouldn’t he be the one worrying about repairing the other cabin?”
Phoebe’s face went blank. “Mr. Kemper?” Suddenly, she laughed. “I’m not married, Mr. Cavallo.”
“And the baby?”
A small frown line appeared between her brows. “Are you a traditionalist, then? You don’t think a single female can raise a child on her own?”
Leo shrugged. “I think kids deserve two parents. But having said that, I do believe women can do anything they like. I can’t, however, imagine a woman like you needing to embrace single parenthood.”
He’d pegged Phoebe as calm and cool, but her eyes flashed. “A woman like me? What does that mean?”
Leaning his back against one of the massive bedposts, he folded his arms and stared at her. Now that he knew she wasn’t married, all bets were off. “You’re stunning. Are all the men in Tennessee blind?”
Her lips twitched. “I’m pretty sure that’s the most clichéd line I’ve ever heard.”
“I stand by my question. You’re living out here in the middle of nowhere. Your little son has no daddy anywhere in sight. A man has to wonder.”
Phoebe stared at him, long and hard. He bore her scrutiny patiently, realizing how little they knew of each other. But for yesterday’s storm, he and Phoebe would likely have exchanged no more than pleasantries when she handed over his keys. In the weeks to come, they might occasionally have seen each other outside on pleasant days, perhaps waved in passing.
But fate had intervened. Leo came from a long line of Italian ancestors who believed in the power of destino and amore. Since he was momentarily banned from the job that usually filled most of his waking hours, he was willing to explore his fascination with Phoebe Kemper.
He watched as she deposited the sleeping baby carefully in the center of the bed. The little boy rolled to his side and continued to snooze undisturbed. Phoebe straightened and matched her pose to Leo’s. Only instead of using the bed for support, she chose to lean against the massive wardrobe that likely held a very modern home entertainment center.
She eyed him warily, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. Finally she sighed. “First of all, we’re not in the middle of nowhere, though it must seem that way to you since you had to drive up here on such a nasty night. Gatlinburg is less than ten miles away. Pigeon Forge closer than that. We have grocery stores and gas stations and all the modern conveniences, I promise. I like it here at the foot of the mountains. It’s peaceful.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“And Teddy is my nephew, not my son.”
Leo straightened, wondering what it said about him that he was glad the woman facing him was a free agent. “Why is he here?”
“My sister and her husband are in Portugal for six weeks settling his father’s estate. They decided the trip would be too hard on Teddy, and that cleaning out the house would be much easier without him. So I volunteered to let him stay with me until they get home.”
“You must like kids a lot.”
A shadow crossed her face. “I love my nephew.” She shook off whatever mood had momentarily stolen the light. “But we’re avoiding the important topic. I can’t rent you a demolished cabin. You have to go.”
He smiled at her with every bit of charm he could muster. “You can rent me this room.”
* * *
Phoebe had to give Leo Cavallo points for persistence. His deep brown eyes were deceptive. Though a woman could sink into their warmth, she might miss entirely the fact that he was a man who got what he wanted. If he had been ill recently, she could find no sign of it in his appearance. His naturally golden skin, along with his name, told her that he possessed Mediterranean genes. And in Leo’s case, that genetic material had been spun into a ruggedly handsome man.
“This isn’t a B and B,” she said. “I have an investment property that I rent out to strangers. That property is currently unavailable, so you’re out of luck.”
“Don’t make a hasty decision,” he drawled. “I’m housebroken. And I’m handy when it comes to changing lightbulbs and killing creepy-crawlies.”
“I’m tall for a woman, and I have monthly pest control service.”
“Taking care of a baby is a lot of work. You might enjoy having help.”
“You don’t strike me as the type to change diapers.”
“Touché.”
Were they at an impasse? Would he give up?
She glanced at Teddy, sleeping so peacefully. Babies were an important part of life, but it was a sad day when a grown woman’s life was so devoid of male companionship that a nonverbal infant was stimulating company. “I’ll make a deal with you,” she said slowly, wondering if she were crazy. “You tell me why you really want to stay, and I’ll consider your request.”
For the first time, she saw discomfort on Leo’s face. He was one of those consummately confident men who strode through life like a captain on the bridge of his ship, everyone in his life bowing and scraping in his wake. But at the moment, a mask slipped and she caught a glimpse of vulnerability. “What did my sister-in-law tell you when she made the reservation?”
A standard ploy. Answering a question with a question. “She said you’d been ill. Nothing more than that. But in all honesty, you hardly look like a man at death’s door.”
Leo’s smile held a note of self-mockery. “Thank God for that.”
Curiouser and curiouser. “Now that I think about it,” she said, trying to solve the puzzle as she went along, “you don’t seem like the kind of man who takes a two-month sabbatical in the mountains for any reason. Unless, of course, you’re an artist or a songwriter. Maybe a novelist? Am I getting warm?”
Leo grimaced, not quite meeting her gaze. “I needed a break,” he said. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
Something in his voice touched her...some note of discouragement or distress. And in that moment, she felt a kinship with Leo Cavallo. Hadn’t she embraced this land and built these two cabins for that very reason? She’d been disillusioned with her job and heartbroken over the demise of her personal life. The mountains had offered healing.
“Okay,” she said, capitulating without further ado. “You can stay. But if you get on my nerves or drive me crazy, I am well within my rights to kick you out.”
He grinned, his expression lightening. “Sounds fair.”
“And I charge a thousand dollars a week more if you expect to share meals with me.”
It was a reckless barb, an attempt to get a rise out of him. But Leo merely nodded his head, eyes dancing. “Whatever you say.” Then he sobered. “Thank you, Phoebe. I appreciate your hospitality.”
The baby stirred, breaking the odd bubble of intimacy that had enclosed the room. Phoebe scooped up little Teddy and held him to her chest, suddenly feeling the need for a barrier between herself and the charismatic Leo Cavallo. “We’ll say good night, then.”
Her houseguest nodded, eyes hooded as he stared at the baby. “Sleep well. And if you hear me up in the night, don’t be alarmed. I’ve had a bit of insomnia recently.”
“I could fix you some warm milk,” she said, moving toward the door.
“I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.”
* * *
Leo watched her leave and felt a pinch of remorse for having pressured her into letting him invade her home. But not so much that he was willing to leave. In Atlanta everyone had walked on eggshells around him, acting as if the slightest raised voice or cross word would send him into a relapse. Though his brother, Luc, tried to hide his concern, it was clear that he and Hattie were worried about Leo. And as dear as they both were to him, Leo needed a little space to come to terms with what had happened.
His first instinct was to dive back into work. But the doctor had flatly refused to release him. This mountain getaway was a compromise. Not an idea Leo would have embraced voluntarily, but given the options, his only real choice.
When he exited the interstate earlier that evening, Leo had called his brother to say he was almost at his destination. Though he needed to escape the suffocating but well-meaning attention, he would never ever cause Luc and Hattie to worry unnecessarily. He would do anything for his younger brother, and he knew Luc would return the favor. They were closer than most siblings, having survived their late teen and early-adult years in a foreign land under the thumb of their autocratic Italian grandfather.
Leo yawned and stretched, suddenly exhausted. Perhaps he was paying for years of burning the candle at both ends. His medical team and his family had insisted that for a full recovery, Leo needed to stay away from work and stress. Maybe the recent hospital stay had affected him more than he realized. But whatever the reason, he was bone tired and ready to climb into that large rustic bed.
Too bad he’d be sleeping alone. It was oddly comforting when his body reacted predictably to thoughts of Phoebe. Something about her slow, steady smile and her understated sexuality really did it for him. Though his doctor had cleared Leo for exercise and sexual activity, the latter was a moot point. Trying to ignore the erection that wouldn’t be seeing any action tonight, he reached for his suitcase, extracted his shaving kit and headed for the shower.
* * *
To Phoebe’s relief, the baby didn’t stir when she laid him in his crib. She stood over him for long moments watching the almost imperceptible movements of his small body as he breathed. She knew her sister was missing Teddy like crazy, but selfishly, Phoebe herself was looking forward to having someone to share Christmas with.
Her stomach did a little flip as she realized that Leo might be here, as well. But no. Surely he would go home at the holidays and come back to finish out his stay in January.
When she received the initial reservation request, she had researched Leo and the Cavallo family on Google. She knew he was single, rich and the CFO of a worldwide textile company started by his grandfather in Italy. She also knew that he supported several charities, not only with money, but with his service. He didn’t need to work. The Cavallo vaults, metaphorically speaking, held more money than any one person could spend in a lifetime. But she understood men like Leo all too well. They thrived on challenge, pitting themselves repeatedly against adversaries, both in business and in life.
Taking Leo into her home was not a physical risk. He was a gentleman, and she knew far more about him than she did about many men she had dated. The only thing that gave her pause was an instinct that told her he needed help in some way. She didn’t need another responsibility. And besides, if the cabin hadn’t been demolished, Leo would have been on his own for two months anyway.
There was no reason for her to be concerned. Nevertheless, she sensed pain in him, and confusion. Given her own experience with being knocked flat on her butt for a long, long time, she wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone. Maybe she could probe gently and see why this big mountain of a man, who could probably bench-press more than his body weight, seemed lost.
As she prepared for bed, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. And when she climbed beneath her flannel sheets and closed her eyes, his face was the image that stayed with her through the night.
Three
Leo awoke when sunlight shining through a crack in the drapes hit his face. He yawned and scrubbed his hands over his stubbly chin, realizing with pleased surprise that he had slept through the night. Perhaps there was something to this mountain retreat thing after all.
Most of his stuff was still in the car, so he dug out a pair of faded jeans from his overnight case and threw on his favorite warm cashmere sweater. It was a Cavallo product...of course. The cabin had an efficient heat system, but Leo was itching to get outside and see his surroundings in the light of day.
Tiptoeing down the hall in case the baby was sleeping, he paused unconsciously at Phoebe’s door, which stood ajar. Through the narrow crack he could see a lump under the covers of a very disheveled bed. Poor woman. The baby must have kept her up during the night.
Resisting the urge to linger, he made his way to the kitchen and quietly located the coffeepot. Phoebe was an organized sort, so it was no problem to find what he needed in the cabinet above. When he had a steaming cup brewed, strong and black, he grabbed a banana off the counter and went to stand at the living room window.
Supposedly, one of his challenges was to acquire the habit of eating breakfast in the morning. Normally, he had neither the time nor the inclination to eat. As a rule, he’d be at the gym by six-thirty and at the office before eight. After that, his day was nonstop until seven or later at night.
He’d never really thought much about his schedule in the past. It suited him, and it got the job done. For a man in his prime, stopping to smell the roses was a metaphor for growing old. Now that he had been admonished to do just that, he was disgruntled and frustrated. He was thirty-six, for God’s sake. Was it really time to throw in the towel?
Pulling back the chintz curtains decorated with gamboling black bears, he stared out at a world that glistened like diamonds in the sharp winter sun. Every branch and leaf was coated with ice. Evidently, the temperatures had dropped as promised, and now the narrow valley where Phoebe made her home was a frozen wonderland.
