Winter Magic: 4 (The Hawks Mountain Series) (6 page)

ANDI ENTERED HER sister’s hospital room. The pale woman in the bed, sans makeup and designer clothes, a hospital bracelet her only jewelry, looked nothing like the glamorous sister Andi had come to accept over the years.

Weakly, Miranda’s ashen face tight with pain, she raised herself on one elbow. “Well?”

Flopping down in the only chair in the room, Andi slipped off the two torture devices squeezing her feet, then luxuriated in the soothing relief of the cold tiles against her aching toes.

“Andi!” Though weak, Miranda’s tone was demanding. “What happened? Did everything go all right? Did I get the contract?”

Andi laid her head back against the chair, hoping the headache she’d gotten after leaving Jonathan’s house would go away. But the smell of antiseptic made her stomach churn, and the pounding in her temples increased.

“Yes, everything went all right, and yes, you got the contract. Nancy and your lawyer are going over it now.”

“Yes!” Miranda punched the air, gasped, then grabbed her side and settled gingerly back against the pillows. “I can’t thank you enough. I owe you big time for this one.”

Andi cast a disparaging side glance at her sister. “You bet your life you do, sister dear. And don’t think for a minute that I won’t collect either.”

Miranda laughed cautiously, her hand holding her side. “Whatever you want. It’s yours.” She tilted her head. “So, what did you think of Jonathan Prince?”

Andi closed her eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights glaring down from the ceiling and tried not to think about how weak and sick Miranda sounded. “Well, you were definitely right about his looks, but he’s a bit on the stuffy side.”

That wasn’t entirely true. By the time she left, Jonathan had loosened up quite a bit. There had even been times when she sensed that he had patiently walked her through areas where she’d stumbled.

“Then you didn’t like him?” Did Andi detect a note of hope in her sister’s voice?

Andi looked at her sister, then averted her face from Miranda’s inquisitive, but sharp appraisal.
Like
was a mild description for the sensation that Jonathan fostered in Andi. She couldn’t put her finger on what the exact sensation was, but it sure surpassed
like
by a country mile. She sensed that Miranda was waiting expectantly for an answer. Hoping she was wrong, Andi stole a glance at the woman in the bed. Her pale face wreathed in an I-told-you-so grin, Miranda’s gaze was glued to Andi.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him at all. I liked him
well enough.”

“And exactly how much is
well enough
?” Miranda arched an elegant eyebrow.

Still avoiding eye-to-eye contact with her sister, Andi plucked at the loose thread hanging from the chair’s upholstery. “Just
 . . .
well enough
.” She shrugged. “He’s much too
 . . .
worldly for my tastes.”

“Well, he may be too worldly for your tastes, Andi dear, but he fits mine just perfectly.”

Exactly.
Miranda had her eye on Jonathan, and when he saw the glamorous woman he’d first met, Andi wouldn’t even rate a faded memory in his mind.
Been there. Done that
. One more reason why it was a good thing she’d be free of this whole mess before her heart got involved.

Miranda wiggled her eyebrows. Then she became serious, her pale face drawn with the signs of pain and fatigue. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Andi. Really. You saved me and my business. I know I’ve done some pretty stupid things in the past, but I love being an event planner. I think I’ve finally found my niche.”

Andi smiled and felt the tension drain from her body. She opened her mouth to quiz Miranda about possible themes, but quickly changed her mind. Miranda’s face had grown paler and the lines of pain around her mouth had deepened. She had enough to contend with, and Andi wouldn’t involve her until her health improved, hopefully before Jonathan wanted to meet again. For now, Andi could handle this alone and if not, she’d ask Nancy for her help.

Going to her sister’s bedside, she carefully hugged Miranda. “Who can you help, if you can’t help family?” Andi kissed her sister’s pale cheek. “You concentrate on getting better.” She leaned back and looked down at Miranda. “I have one question for you?”

Miranda waited, her expression anxious.

“Exactly how many people were at Tippy Dawson’s party?”

Before Miranda could answer, the swish of the door opening drew their attention. Dread washed over Andi as she looked into the pinched face of her aunt, Laureene Talbot. What on earth was she doing here, and how did she find out Miranda had been hospitalized?

A soft moan that echoed Andi’s trepidation followed by “Oh no!” came from the direction of the bed.

Andi swallowed her anxiety and spoke. “Hello, Aunt Laureene.”

“Andrea.” Laureene’s censuring gaze moved over Andi’s attire. “Is this what teachers are wearing in public nowadays?” Without waiting for an answer that Andi had no intention of offering, she sailed past Andi and stationed herself at Miranda’s bedside. “Miranda, it would have been nice if you or,” she glared over shoulder at Andi, “your sister had let me know you were in the hospital. Instead, I had to hear about it on the streets.”

“I’m doing fine, Aunt Laureene,” Miranda said with a forced smile and a voice dripping in sarcasm, “So nice of you to ask.”

Laureene straightened her shoulders. “No need to be rude. If you’d given me a chance, I was about to ask just that.” She sniffed indignantly and patted the neat bun at her nape. “Doesn’t seem to be any point in asking now.” She looked around the room, as if assessing the cleanliness. “I feel obliged to ask the two of you over for Christmas dinner. Your cousins are home from college. I’m sure they’d like to see you.”

What a gracious invitation
. Andi was sure she could hear the “even if I’m not” that never got voiced by her aunt. And she had serious doubts as to whether Beulah and Augusta, or as Miranda and she had always referred to them—Biddy and Gussy—had any great desire to see their twin cousins. There had to be some other reason why Aunt Laureene was playing the gracious hostess.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Laureene, but Miranda and I have plans,” Andi said. “Perhaps another time.” When Laureene turned toward Andi, Miranda threw her sister a grateful smile from behind her aunt’s back.

Her aunt frowned. “Well, that’s a shame. Since the entire Talbot family has been invited to Mr. Prince’s Christmas gala, I thought perhaps you young people would like to get together and talk about it over Christmas dinner.”

Talk about it, my foot. You’ve never invited us before. Besides, you had to know we wouldn’t come. You just wanted to brag about getting invited.

Andi had no idea that Jonathan had sent invitations to the people of Carson, but at least now she understood her aunt’s out-of-the-blue invitation. She had to wonder why Luareene had waited so long to rub it in. Aunt Laureene put great stock in rubbing elbows with the elite. This chance to meet Jonathan Prince would be like manna from heaven for her, and the very last thing she would do is keep silent on the subject. She’d be there with bells on, and with her two eligible daughters in tow.

“You did get invitations, didn’t you?” Aunt Laureene looked from one of her nieces to the other, making no attempt to conceal her hope that they had been left out.

“No. We didn’t.” Since the planners didn’t need invitations, the point was moot and Miranda’s answer was very truthful, but Andi wondered how Miranda could have said that and not cracked a smile.

Andi didn’t miss her aunt’s satisfied smirk, even when she quickly rearranged her face into an expression of regret. “Well, that is a shame. Oh well, I’m sure my girls will be more than happy to tell you all about if you drop by for coffee the next day.”

“I’ll look forward to that.” Miranda settled back against her pillows. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Aunt Laureene. I’m tired. I think I’d like to take a nap.”

Laureene patted Miranda’s hand. “Of course, dear. I have to be getting along anyway. We’re going to Charleston to buy the girls dresses.” She hurried toward the door. “Don’t be strangers, now, ya hear?” Then she was gone, leaving only a whiff of her overpowering honeysuckle perfume behind.

“Old battleax,” Miranda muttered before closing her eyes.

A chill stole up Andi’s spine. She had no reasonable explanation for it, but she suddenly wished her aunt was not going to be at the gala. Then again, maybe it was just her guilty conscience gnawing at her again.

A FULL DAY HAD passed since Jonathan’s meeting with Andi Cameron, and he still found it hard to concentrate. Every time he started working, her image, her laughter, her soft voice, those great legs, would infiltrate his thoughts. The next thing he knew, he was daydreaming about her, looking forward to when she’d call that evening with her ideas for the theme development.

As a result, instead of working, he found himself in the morning room gazing at the softly falling snow blanketing the landscape. Confusion about the vast differences between the woman he’d interviewed originally and the woman who had showed up yesterday still fogged his thoughts. How could one woman be so different, yet the same? Was she showing her true self or was she using this ruse to get closer to him?

He’d about decided Andi had a split personality or was one of the shrewdest gold-diggers he’d ever met, when Aunt Sarah ambled into the morning room carrying yet another pot of poinsettias.

“What are you doing in here? I thought you stayed home so you could get some work done.” She placed the pot in the middle of the table, stood back and admired it for a moment, then sat and tipped her face up to him.

He sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other and leaned against the window sill. “I did, but I thought I’d take a break.” Truth be known, he hadn’t gotten more than thirty minutes worth of work done all morning.

“A break?” She checked her watch. “Yes, I suppose after a half an hour of drudgery, a man needs a break.”

Jonathan turned sharply toward her, just in time to see her hide a grin.

“Oh, Jonny, who do you think you’re kidding? Your mind is on that nice young woman who was here yesterday, isn’t it?” She winked at him. “I saw the way you looked at her.”

He dragged his gaze away from his aunt and hid his expression by concentrating on the glistening ice covering the pond at the end of the garden. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, he swung back to face her. “And exactly how was I looking at her?” he asked, trying to sound indulgent, but wondering when his aunt had developed ESP.

“Like a love-sick calf.” She shook her head. “There’s no disgrace in being attracted to someone, Jonny.”

“I’m not attracted.”

“All right. Smitten then.”

Jonathan frowned. “I’m not
smitten
either, and that word went out in the 1920s.” He leaned down and kissed his aunt’s cheek. “You’ve been watching too many of those chick flicks.”

Jezebel, his aunt’s white Angora cat, ran through the open door and jumped into Sarah’s lap. The cat, a tiny gold sleigh bell suspended from the red Christmas ribbon tied around its neck, rubbed against Sarah’s hand, then lay down and curled into a ball.

Jonathan shook his head. Even the poor cat hadn’t escaped Sarah’s Christmas spirit.

Sarah combed her fingers through the cat’s fur. “Have it your way. How are you coming with the gala plans?”

“They’re shaping up.” It wasn’t too much of an exaggeration. “Everything’s falling into place, but not as quickly as I’d like. With only a few weeks to get it all together, if I don’t find a way to speed things up, I’m going to be in trouble with this. As it is, I can’t do much more until I talked to Andi
 . . .
Ms. Cameron about the themes she’s working up.” He sighed. “I’m just so busy that I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to give this all the attention I’d like.”

“Well, there is one way to solve that.” For a long moment, Sarah said nothing. “Why don’t you set Andi up with a room to work from at the publishing offices?”

Sarah’s out-of-the-blue suggestion almost took his legs out from under him. He sat before she noticed the effect it had on him. “A party planner setting up operations in the offices of Prince Publishing? Out of the question.”

“Well, then, if not at the office, then how about here?” She continued to stroke the cat and avoid his gaze. “I can work with her, and you can take care of business.”

“Here? You?”

“Well, didn’t you say that one of the reasons you felt the galas for the last two years weren’t profitable was because you didn’t work closely enough with the planner? And didn’t you also just say you’re pressed for time?”

Jonathan nodded. “With the new line of coffee table books just out, I’m working the Christmas distribution. And there’s Jason Clark, our star author, who can’t seem to settle on the contract details unless I promise to leave him my house and all my money in my will.”

“Exactly. Now, if she works here, when you’re not available, I can oversee what she’s doing. We can put her in the sitting room on the second floor. Aside from my quilting lessons, no one uses it. I can call the office supply store for whatever she’ll need, and Davis can have her set up by tomorrow.” She glanced at him, waiting for an answer.

When he offered none, Sarah lifted Jezebel from her lap and set the cat on her feet on the tiled floor. The gold bell tinkled softly. Jezebel threw Jonathan a look that said losing her soft, warm bed in Sarah’s lap was his fault.

His aunt stood and shrugged. “Food for thought,” she said lightly. She walked to the cabinet at the end of the room. “Well, I’m off to gather some bayberry branches to mix with the pine boughs on the mantels.”

Jonathan was barely aware of her slipping on her coat and boots, extracting a basket and pruning shears from a shelf, and then heading out the side door.