Hunter laughed once and tugged her behind him as he led her from the room. “Honey, it’s my house, not a hotel. Trust me, these floors can take it. They’ve seen worse.”
“You’re just saying that,” she grumbled, adjusting a strand behind her ear.
“Yep. ’Cause I’m the kind of guy who ‘just says things,’” he drawled, giving her a look over his shoulder.
She returned his look and followed him up the stairs, peering over into that great room once again. She really hoped that was where Hunter had imagined her taking a nap, because that’s where she was headed.
Hunter took her into the first door on the second floor and pulled her in ahead of him. “This should do it,” he murmured, sounding a little bit awkward.
The room was fairly simply decorated, but in a tasteful, distinctly feminine way. There was a spectacular view of the lake, a queen bed with a pastel flower embroidered coverlet, and an oversize chair with matching ottoman. The walls were hung with pictures, and she moved over to the nearest one.
A gorgeous blonde woman dressed in the most perfect fall ensemble ever created was throwing leaves at Hunter, both of them grinning perfectly. It could have been a haute fashion photo shoot. Mal swallowed down a bit of bile. What was this?
“This is Audrey’s room,” Hunter said softly from behind her. “She’s my little sister.”
Mal turned and saw him leaning against the doorframe, watching her. She tried not to let her relief show as she swallowed.
“She’s pretty,” she complimented, glancing back at the photo. “Like movie-star pretty.”
“I tell her that, but she seems to think I’m biased,” he mused.
Mal smiled at him, seeing a whole new adorable side of him. She slowly meandered to the next picture, this one of a much younger Hunter and Audrey on a dock in early morning with an older man with fishing gear.
“Grandpa Carlow?” Mal asked, without looking back at him.
“The man himself,” Hunter answered, coming up behind her. “Through and through Irishman, loved family, fishing, and Guinness, usually in that order. Sometimes those last two got reversed.”
Mal laughed and touched the picture gently. “You two adored him.”
“Couldn’t help it. Irish charm. He had it. Dad, Uncle Pat, and Uncle Sam have it. It must dilute with Americanization or something, because Deacon and I don’t have any of that.”
Mal looked up at him incredulously. “You don’t have any Irish charm?”
He quirked a half smile. “No… but I can do a perfect Irish accent, if that counts for anything at all,” he said, displaying the accent in question.
Mal had to steady herself with one slow blink. “Don’t do that,” she said faintly, laughing. “Not without warning.” She cleared her throat. “Who’s Deacon?”
“My one male cousin,” Hunter replied, sounding amused. “The rest are girls.”
“How many?”
“Twelve.”
“Good heavens!” she cried, looking back at him.
He shrugged. “Irish.”
She moved on to another picture, this one of Audrey in sweats and a T-shirt, clinging to a walker, but with a brilliant smile on her face, tears in her eyes, and sweat on her brow. “What’s this?” Mal asked quietly.
Hunter exhaled softly, but she heard a lot of emotion behind it. “Nine years ago,” he started, his voice rougher than she anticipated, “Audrey went for a run while we were here. Not unusual, she’s a fitness nut. It started raining while she was out, but we weren’t too concerned. She was a big girl, knew the area, so Deke and I didn’t think anything of it. But when three hours went by, we knew something was up. We split up and drove around the resort, tracing her usual running paths, fighting the wind and the rain. It was getting dark…”
Mal stared at him openmouthed. “What happened?” she whispered.
He swallowed hard and folded his arms uncomfortably. “I found her. I don’t know what drew my attention to that patch of road, but I got out of the truck and went over to look down the ravine. There was Audrey…” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “She was unconscious, gash on her head, and her leg was twisted in a way that no leg should twist. Blood all over it. I got down to her, called 911, called Deke… I rode with her in the ambulance to the hospital. Deke called my parents, and we just waited. Her leg had been badly cut and broken in three places, lots of surgery to fix it, and the doctor said it might not work. They asked us about cutting it off, if it came to that. But it didn’t. She made it.” He shook his head again and pointed at the picture. “This is the day in rehab that she finally managed to stand up on her own. She called it her personal V-Day.”
Mal looked back at it, unable to help smiling at it. “Best day ever.”
“Actually,” he said with a catch in his voice, “that one is.” He pointed at a picture on the adjacent wall.