Christmas at Holiday House - RaeAnne Thayne Page 0,12
where she was.
She blinked and opened her eyes to a room she didn’t recognize at first. The walls were painted a soft sage green and the furniture was much nicer than anything she and Kevin had been able to afford while he was in med school.
For a moment, she thought she was back in the hotel in Austin where she had stayed when she interviewed at the hospital there. Somehow that didn’t feel right. Why would she be there again? She and Christopher were leasing an apartment not far from the hospital, near one of the best schools in the city.
She blinked again and a few more elements came into focus. She wasn’t in Austin, she suddenly remembered in a rush. She was in Colorado for a few weeks helping Lucy’s grandmother.
The events of the day before flooded back. The long drive. Arriving at the beautiful Victorian mansion. Meeting Lucy’s brother.
Ethan Lancaster’s handsome features danced across her memory. Oh. That must have been why she dreamed of blue eyes and a smile that left her breathless.
The bed was warm and luxuriously comfortable. She didn’t want to move. If she wasn’t mistaken, she had enjoyed a much more sound sleep than she had known in a long time. She wasn’t sure if that was due to the snug bed or simply because she had been exhausted from the drive.
“Hi, Mommy.”
She sat up and saw Christopher beaming at her from the slipper chair in the room, his favorite action figures beside him.
She cleared the sleep from her voice. “Good morning, bug.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, that’s right.” With a jolt, she sat up. It was Thanksgiving, and she was supposed to be cooking dinner for Winnie and her guests.
“The lady is awake. She’s in the big kitchen.”
Abby was the worst mother ever. If Christopher knew that, then he must have arisen before she did and wandered out of the room. Why hadn’t she woken up? They were sleeping in the same bedroom!
She was usually a light, uneasy sleeper but had to assume exhaustion from their drive had played a part in her negligence.
“Oh, man. I had an alarm set, but I must have slept through it.”
“She told me to let you sleep so I took your phone in the other room. I played with Mr. Jingles and watched TV on the phone.”
How could she have slept in, leaving her son to entertain himself by wandering around for who knows how long in a strange house?
“Give me five minutes. Stay here and play on my phone a little more, then we have to go help Winnie with dinner.”
“I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Christopher said.
She kissed his forehead. “We’ll take care of that, too, I promise.”
“Okay.” He returned to his action figures, and she thought again how very blessed she was in the child department. Her son was sweet, kind and excellent at entertaining himself. He usually never minded finding something to keep him occupied when she had to do other things.
She dressed quickly, washing her face and yanking her hair into a ponytail, before hurrying into the kitchen with Christopher close behind her.
She did indeed find Winifred Lancaster there. The woman was standing at the table trying one-handed to knead what looked like bread dough.
“Good morning,” Winnie said with a sunny smile that didn’t completely hide her pain.
Abby winced, feeling terrible all over again. “I am so sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”
“I’m supposed to be your nurse, but instead I slept in and here you are in the kitchen working on Thanksgiving dinner. Please stop. You should be resting.”
“I’m fine, really. And I haven’t been here long.”
Abby stepped forward. “I told you last night I would handle Thanksgiving dinner for you. I’m sorry I overslept, but I’m here now and can take over.”
“No need. I’ve got this covered. You should go back to bed. You had a long day yesterday.”
Abby moved closer and drew on all the experience gained over the years of dealing with recalcitrant patients. “No. You should step away from the dough and let me take over whatever you’re doing there.”
Winnie chuckled, though it sounded a little strained to Abby. “I wanted to prep the dough for the rolls so it would have plenty of time to rise. Turns out kneading dough is a little trickier than I expected one-handed, but I think I’m getting there.”
Abby crossed to the sink and lathered her hands, speaking as she rinsed. “Lucy asked me to come to Silver Bells for a few weeks so