The kids were enough... Letter to Reader Title Page Acknowledgments CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN EPILOGUE Copyright
The kids were enough...
Claire had neither the time nor the inclination to complicate her life any further. So she would simply ignore the ridiculous, simmering attraction she felt every time Logan Matthews came into view. Instead—like any good neighbor—she’d do her part to establish a polite, somewhat distant relationship.
Not a problem. She’d earned the furtively whispered nickname her former employees had given her. Any Frost Queen worth her crown could easily control errant emotions.
And when she succeeded, she wanted an Oscar for Best Actress of the Year.
Dear Reader,
Each autumn for decades, as the leaves start to change and the air turns crisp, my family has headed up to Lake Superior’s North Shore. The steep cliffs, fragrant pine forests and wild beauty of Superior are unforgettable. What could be better than sitting around a campfire at midnight, with a wash of stars overhead and the sound of waves rushing against the shore? As children, my brother and I loved every moment we spent there, and now my own children love it just as much. We always hope Superior will grow fierce while we’re there, and send waves exploding against the cliffs.
I hope you’ll enjoy this story about a woman who leaves her urban life behind to take on the challenges of raising her sister’s young children in just such a place. The enigmatic man next door creates even greater challenges for her—especially when painful secrets from the past are revealed.
If you’d like to write, I would love to hear from you. My address is P.O. Box 2550, Cedar Rapids, IA, 52406-2550. Thanks so much!
And Mom and Dad—thank you for all the wonderful trips north, and for the beautiful memories. No childhood could have been better!
Roxanne Rustand
Her Sister’s Children
Roxanne Rustand
Many thanks to Leigh Michaels, Kylie Brant, Diane Palmer, Kathie DeNosky, Chelle Cohen, Lyn Cote, Monica Caltabiano, Shelley Cooper, Suzanne Thomas and Julia Mozingo. And special thanks to Rob Cohen. You’ve all helped my dreams come true!
CHAPTER ONE
IF SHE’D KNOWN about the snake, Claire would have thought twice about leaving New York.
Jason’s two-foot albino corn snake slithered sedately across the kitchen floor and coiled itself into a neat, flesh-colored pile at the base of the refrigerator. From unwelcome experience, Claire knew Igor would bask in the warmth of the motor indefinitely—to avoid northern Minnesota’s early-September chill, no doubt.
The children’s dog or cat napping there would have an altogether different—a more domestic—effect on the room. But Gilbert, the elderly poodle, always took off for the farthest reaches of the old Victorian house whenever Igor managed to escape his guaranteed-escape-proof reptile cage. And Sullivan, emitting Siamese yowls to rival any civil defense siren, had found her usual refuge on top of the cupboards.
Claire had developed an aversion to snakes as a child, but she’d never argued over Jason’s ownership of Igor. She’d tried to make every concession possible in hopes that Jason would feel welcome and happy. Nothing had worked.
A car door slammed. Heavy footsteps marched up the concrete walk. With a sigh, Claire remembered her days in New York as assistant personnel director of her father’s electronics firm. After four weeks of strangers knocking at her door at all hours, mountain-high piles of laundry and a phone jangling from morning till night, her familiar world of deferential employees and maid service was rapidly gaining appeal. Her parents’ wealth had never bought happiness, and her rise in the company had been her father’s dream, not hers, but there had been some definite advantages to having money.
She’d made her decision, Claire reminded herself with a rueful smile. She’d welcomed the challenge of taking in her late sister’s three children, although she had serious doubts about ever adjusting to their pets. So now she could dwell on her problems or view her new career as an exciting challenge. Here at Pine Cliff Resort she could finally succeed on her own merits, away from her family’s influence. And after losing their parents in a car accident six months before, the kids needed her, not a nanny. Nothing mattered more than giving them the best possible life. She loved them too much to settle for less.
A sharp knock on the door echoed through the room. Smiling at an older woman staring at her through the screen, Claire crossed the gleaming vinyl floor. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Mrs. Rogers,” the woman announced in a two-pack-a-day baritone. A cloying odor of heavy perfume and stale cigarette smoke blew in as Claire opened the door. “I have reservations.”
The decibel level of Sullivan’s yowls rose.
Though built like a woman who could clear timber and slay bears before breakfast, Mrs. Rogers drew back in alarm. She leaned to one side to peer suspiciously past Claire. “Where’s the manager?”
Suppressing a chuckle, Claire ushered the older woman into the small entryway and turned to the rolltop desk by the door. She ran a finger down the names in the reservation book. “I’m the new manager. Is cabin three okay?”
The woman shook her head and tapped the toe of her shoe against the floor. “When I called in June, I was promised the end cabin, as always. Check your book again.”
Claire dutifully rechecked