Snowfall at Willow Lake

She braced her hands behind her and sat up. The stitching formed a thin black curve in her pale flesh, now painted amber with the disinfectant. “You stopped the bleeding,” she said again.

“It appears so.” He laid a gauze patch over the wound. “I have to bandage this. You’ll need to be careful, not mess with the stitches or let them pull. If you were one of my usual patients, I’d fit you with a lamp-shade collar to keep you from chewing at the bandage.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“You need to keep this area dry if possible.”

“I think I can handle that.” She held still while he finished bandaging her. He checked her blood pressure a second time. He studied the meter. “No change,” he said. “That’s good.”

“Thank you. Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

He held both her hands as she gingerly let herself down off the table. She swayed a little, and he slipped his arm around her. “Easy now,” he said. “You’re going to need to keep that leg elevated as much as possible tonight.”

“All right.”

The shock of holding her in his arms struck him. His chin brushed over her silky hair. She smelled like crisp winter wind, and she felt both soft and light.

She seemed equally startled by his touch, and a small shudder went through her. Fear? Relief? He couldn’t tell. Then, very gently, she extracted herself from his arms. He led the way to the reception area. Mildred’s workstation was as meticulously neat as his assistant herself was. Noah’s desk was cluttered with journals and reference books, toys and little figurines, cards from patients’ owners. There was a small bulletin board entirely devoted to notes from kids and photos of them with their pets. Noah was a complete sucker for kids.

“Thank you again,” she said. “You need to let me know what I owe you.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I never kid. You performed a professional service. You’re entitled to charge for that.”

“Right.” Spoken like a true lawyer. If he’d performed the same procedure on a Doberman, he would’ve charged a few hundred bucks. “It’s on the house. You should be seen by a doctor as soon as possible.”

“Well. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty,” she said. “My hero.”

He still detected a subtle vibrato of fear in her voice, so he suspected she was just trying to show him some bravado—or irony. “No one’s ever called me that before.”

“I bet some of your patients would if they could talk.” She looked away, and he was glad to see a bit of color in her face. And damn, she was one good-looking woman. “Anyway. I should get down to the cottage now—”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said. “Not tonight.”

“But—”

“The roads are worse than ever. I know there’s a driveway down to the Wilsons’, but it’s buried under feet of snow. The place is probably freezing. Tonight, you’re staying here.”

She looked around the clinic. “So you’re going to put me in a crate in the back?”

“Right next to Mrs. Levinson’s Manx cat.” He gestured at the Naugahyde bench in the waiting area. “Have a seat and put your leg up. I need to check on my patients, and then we’ll go over to the house. It’s not the Ritz, but I’ll give you something to eat and a place to sleep. I’ve got tons of room.”

“I’ve already troubled you far too much—”

“Then a little more won’t matter.”

“But—”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble.” He went in the back, where dim bluish night-lights illuminated the area. Toby the cat was alert but seemed content in her crate. She had plenty of water. Brutus, the beagle, was sound asleep and snoring loudly. The other cat, Clementine, sat methodically grooming itself.

Noah detached its nearly empty water bottle. “Did you see her, Clem?” he whispered. “Can you believe my luck? I won the girl-stuck-in-the-ditch lottery.”

The cat blinked at him, then lifted a forepaw and started grooming it.

“Yeah, high fives to you, too,” Noah said. Sure, an accident had brought Sophie to him. But maybe fate had a hand in it, too. The most gorgeous woman in the galaxy, a woman who called him “my hero,” was going to be moving in across the road from him.

All right, so he was probably reading too much into a chance encounter. But what the hey. Han Solo wouldn’t hesitate to make the most of the situation. She was beautiful and had made a point of telling him she was single. And she had kids. Noah loved kids. He’d always wanted a houseful. His last girlfriend had left him over the issue of wanting kids. Now here was a woman who already had some.

He washed up at the sink, reminding himself not to get ahead of himself, something he had a habit of doing. Fate had dropped a golden opportunity in his hands. Now it was up to him to see what this might become.

Noah was pretty sure he’d never met anyone like Sophie Bellamy. He wondered who she really was, besides some guy’s ex-wife. He wondered where she had come from and what had driven her here in the dark, in the middle of a snowstorm, and if the desperation he glimpsed in her eyes was something that should worry him.

Part Two

One month earlier

Epiphany

An epiphany is a sudden realization, insight or rebirth, often brought on by a life-altering event.

Originally from the Greek for “appearance” or “manifestation,” Epiphany is a Christian feast, also know as Twelfth Day, as it is the twelfth day after Christmas. Traditionally, this coincides with the visit of the Magi. The day is marked by feasting and celebration.

Gougères

Gougères are airy French cheese puffs that originated in France, and are traditionally served this time of year with champagne dry, not brut.

1 cup water

1 stick unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup flour

4 large eggs

1 1/2 cups coarsely grated Gruyère cheese

Preheat oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place the water, butter and salt in a saucepan and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to moderate. Add flour all at once and beat with a wooden spoon until the mixture pulls away from side of pan.

Transfer mixture—known as pâte à choux—to a bowl and use an electric mixer to beat in the eggs, one at a time. If the batter is too stiff, add another egg.

Stir the Gruyère into the pâte à choux and drop by tablespoons, about one inch apart, on the baking sheet. Bake for about twenty-five minutes, or until golden brown. Serve warm.

Two

The Peace Palace