ended the call. Gabe gave in to the craving and poured himself a stiff drink.
It wasn’t until he’d finished his first and started on the second that he sank onto the sofa in the great room, torturing himself with more memories sparked by decorations on the tree. He was sipping a third drink when he spied his laptop sitting on Jack Davenport’s desk. His gaze locked on the computer, never straying as he finished his scotch.
Then, motivated by a self-destructive need he didn’t understand but could no longer fight, he poured a fourth drink and connected the computer to Davenport’s home theater system.
It was 12:43 P.M. when Gabe clicked on My Videos.
Nic stared at the gate that barred access to Murphy Mountain and Eagle’s Way. The other time she’d traveled this road, the gate had stood open. Today it was locked up tight.
Good thing she’d come prepared. Before leaving home, she’d phoned Alton Davis, the snowplow driver Jack Davenport contracted with to clear the private roads on Murphy Mountain, for the current gate code.
Nic rolled down her window, punched the numbers into the keypad, and waited for the gate to swing open. She drove over the bridge spanning the creek and headed along the road toward the sprawling log house.
The afternoon was cold and gray with the promise of snow at any moment. Eagle’s Way was bright with light, and smoke curled from one of four chimneys rising above the green metal rooftop. As she parked her truck in the circular front drive and opened the door, she heard the faint sound of Christmas carols drifting on the air. That surprised her. The first Christmas after her marriage broke up, she did everything she could to avoid the sounds of the season.
Maybe Gabe wasn’t as upset as she and Celeste had expected.
Nic retrieved the wrapped gift she’d brought him—one of Sarah’s Black Forest cakes—and made her way up the front steps. She rang the doorbell and waited.
The door swung open. A handful of seconds dragged by like hours as Gabe stood watching her and not speaking. He looked … disturbed. Finally he took a step back, gestured for her to enter, then shut the door behind her, all without saying a word.
Nic gazed around the great room, and her hackles went up. A hidden stereo played instrumental carols. Lights blinked and bubbled on a ten-foot-tall spruce standing before the wall of windows. Flames danced and logs crackled in the huge stone hearth on the back wall of the great room, and from its mantel hung a pair of stockings. Nic read the names. Mom. Matt.
Something hard and brittle glittered in Gabe Callahan’s eyes. He had a drink in his hand and danger oozed from his pores.
Suddenly Nic felt more like Red Riding Hood than one of Santa’s elves. She licked her dry lips, then held out the package. “Merry Christmas.”
When he didn’t move to take the gift, she set it down on the table beside the door and waited.
A muscle jerked at his temple. Finally, just when she thought he’d never speak, he asked, “Why are you here?”
She smelled the alcohol on his breath. She opened her mouth intending to invite him to Christmas Eve services, but as their gazes caught and held, different words emerged. “I didn’t want you to be alone,” she told him. “I don’t want to be alone. It’s Christmas.”
“Christmas,” he repeated after a long moment, the word sounding like a curse on his lips. His gaze never left hers as he tossed back the rest of his drink, then set the empty glass on top of the package she’d brought. “What Christmas is, woman, is hell.”
He moved toward her and she instinctively backed away until the door was at her back. His voice sounded low and gruff and a little slurred as he added, “And I’m feeling like the damned devil himself.”
Then he kissed her.
His mouth was hot and savage, and Nic’s senses reeled. Part of her was frightened. He was bigger than her, stronger than her. They were alone, miles away from anyone, and Gabe Callahan could do whatever he wanted with her. She was totally at his mercy.
Except she wasn’t afraid. She was … excited.
This was the man who’d rescued a wounded dog from a bear trap. The man who’d put himself at risk to save two boys from a fire. The man who had warmed her feet against his bare stomach.
He would not hurt her. He was missing his family and he