“Family night?”
“The O’Neils have a rule that once a week everyone eats together, no matter what is going on and how busy they are. All of them. Grandparents. Kids. Dogs. No exceptions unless you’re out of the country.”
She felt something uncurl inside her. “I’m not family.”
“You’re with me. That counts.” He picked up the cases. “I’ll take these through to the bedroom.”
Harriet glanced up at the shelf and felt a stab of disappointment. “That’s not the bedroom?”
“It’s not the master suite.”
“But we could sleep there?”
“It’s where I sleep when I come on my own. Do you want to sleep there?”
“Yes! How can you even ask? It’s like being part of the forest.”
“Then let’s sleep there, but we’ll keep our stuff in the main bedroom. That’s where the bathroom is. Do you want to take a shower before dinner?”
“Who exactly will be at dinner?”
“Most of the family, probably. Is that a problem?” His expression changed to one of understanding. “Strangers. Dinner. Your two least favorite things. But these are good people, Harriet.”
“Yes.” Harriet glanced down at her black jeans and her soft sweater. “Should I dress up?”
“You look great. And that sweater looks amazing with your new short hair.” He pulled her against him and brought his mouth down to hers in a kiss that almost made her wish they didn’t have to go to dinner. Given the choice she would have stayed right here, in this amazing cabin, and watched the snow gently layer on the trees.
She comforted herself with the knowledge that these people had dogs. How bad could they be?
All the same, she felt nervous as they walked the short distance to the main house.
As Ethan pushed open the door that led straight into the big farmhouse kitchen, Harriet saw what felt like a million pairs of eyes turned in her direction.
Ethan closed the door, locking in the heat. “This is Harriet.”
“Harriet!” A woman rose to her feet, all smiles. “I’m Elizabeth O’Neil, Ethan’s godmother. My three sons, Jackson, Sean and Tyler, their grandparents Walter and Alice—”
The introductions seemed to go on and on and blurred in her head. How many people were there? Nine? Ten? Was Kayla married to Jackson or was that someone else? No, the dark-haired girl was Brenna and she was pregnant, which meant she had to be Tyler’s wife. And the woman talking to herself in French while she cooked was Élise, Sean’s wife. Jess, Tyler’s teenage daughter, was away at a training camp…
She wished they were wearing name tags.
And she wished they weren’t all looking at her.
It was her turn to say something.
“G-g-g—” The word refused to leave her mouth and she froze. No. No! Why now? She felt the familiar wash of panic. The usual desire to run, but Ethan was standing behind her, his body a solid wall of protection and reassurance.
And she realized she had two choices. She could run, as she’d done that night with Ethan. She could mumble her excuses and leave and no doubt the O’Neils would be very polite about it, or she could face it and find her way through it. Running was the easy way out. Running wasn’t the challenge.
Staying put and trying again, that was the challenge.
She forced herself to stand still. Forced herself to breathe and take her time.
So what if her words weren’t smooth? Did it really matter? This time she was not walking out. She was not calling her sister. She was not going to make a vow never to walk into a room with a bunch of strangers again.
She was going to deal with the issue as best she could.
She felt Ethan’s hand on her shoulder and the reassuring squeeze of his fingers.