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There was an entire valley of McBride males, and too few females born into the huge clan. Seth had hoped for a girl, but Bailey wanted a boy who would grow up to be just like his daddy. According to the ultrasound, Bailey was going to get her wish.
Jack and Dara had said they would be happy with either and didn’t want to know until the baby was born. Rather old-fashioned of them, Charlee thought with a smile.
At the same time, her chest grew tight. If she didn’t get over her hang-ups with men, she’d never get married and have children of her own, something she had wanted more than anything. She loved kids.
David Smith had upset her life in a big way, and she hadn’t forgiven herself for falling for him, but mostly for what he’d done to her sister.
Therapy had helped, and so had time. Dating again—she’d been so busy with her spa and salon that she’d let the years go by. She’d put work first, men a distant second. A part of her hadn’t wanted to date, while another part knew she needed to get back on that horse.
“Concentrate on fixing the flat tire,” Charlee muttered as she took the hand weights out of the small wood crate so she could lift it.
Her ice-cold fingers made moving everything a little more difficult. What was left of the sunlight rapidly dwindled, and it wouldn’t be long before the storm would be on top of her. She’d get a good drenching and her car might be damaged by the hail.
Damn. She would have to hurry. She couldn’t be out in a storm as severe as this one was forecasted to be.
After she set the crate on the ground, next to the hand weights she’d removed, she pulled back the carpet and raised the lid of the spare tire compartment.
“Aha!” Her triumph took a nosedive when a fat drop of rain splatted on the back of her head.
The spare was smaller than the regular tire, a donut. She unscrewed a big nut and set it aside before lifting the tire out. She tossed the donut onto the ground, beside everything else.
Beneath the spare, there were the things necessary to change a tire, but she really had no idea how to do it.
Deflated, she turned and sat on the dusty bumper, realizing too late that her clean jeans were no longer spotless. She had to tell the neat freak side of her to shut up about the dirt.
A second raindrop landed on her cheek, followed by one on her shoulder. She tipped her head back and looked at the dark sky, every ray of sunlight blotted out.
Another raindrop landed on her eyelid, then one on her upper lip.
And then it started to pour.
“The books.” She whirled around as rain started to come down in earnest. She grabbed the box of books and hefted it into the trunk.
Rain thrummed on the convertible and ran along her cheeks to dampen her green sweater. Charlee slammed the trunk and ran for the car door. The bags of clothes and the hand weights would survive the rain. She climbed into the Mustang and shut the door harder than she’d intended
Once again, she banged her forehead against the leather-wrapped steering wheel. So much for changing a tire on her own.
It appeared she wouldn’t make it to the cabin before nightfall if she didn’t get help. She wasn’t crazy about driving out here in the dark. But sitting out here in the dark alone, waiting for the storm to pass, would be even worse.
Now she had a flat tire, it was raining, and it would be night in just a few short hours.
Merry Christmas, Charlee Burke.
Maybe she should have gone to her sister’s for Christmas after all.
She shivered and started the car so she could turn on the heater. At least she had a full tank. She shifted in her seat so she could slide out of her jacket before digging a dry sweater out of her overnight case that was next to a large insulated bag filled with grocery items for the cabin that included dairy, meat, and eggs—and eggnog, of course. She had another bag with bread, veggies, fresh herbs, and a number of other things. She enjoyed cooking, even if it was just for herself.
If her sister, Jo, had known Charlee planned to spend Christmas alone, she would have kicked her butt. Her best friends, Bailey and Dara, would have had a cow. She’d told Jo she’d be with the McBride families and told the McBrides she’d be with Jo and Tate, and their twins.
She just couldn’t take one more Christmas of feeling like she was on the outside looking in. Everyone close to her had a significant other and most had kids or kids on the way. She was tired of being alone, but she wasn’t going to fix that problem easily. First she had to allow herself to get past the worst experience of her life.
David Smith—or Hearn, she learned his real name later—had conned her and good, going after her because of the inheritance she was about to come into. Not only had he hurt her emotionally, but he’d done far, far worse to her sister, Jo.
Far worse.
He’d tried to kill Jo to get to Charlee. Not even once, but twice.
Her stomach churned.
