Her Aunt Anna smiled at her. “I saw the car, but your sign wasn’t turned around so I thought—”
“It’s okay. Come on in. Dawson Barrett’s here.” She didn’t say more. If Dawson wanted her aunt to know anything else, he would tell her.
Her aunt’s wavy, steel-gray hair attractively framed her face. She was wearing a jogging suit with a down jacket and her favorite pair of sneakers. Mikala’s heart contracted with love for this woman who had raised her. She owed her aunt more than she could ever repay and she loved her dearly.
Dawson stood and came forward, hand extended.
“Hello, Ms. Conti. It’s good to see you again.”
Aunt Anna never stood on ceremony. She wrapped her arms around Dawson for a hug. “Don’t give me that ‘Ms. Conti’ baloney. You called me Aunt Anna when you were a teenager. You can still call me that.” She stood back to take a better look at him. “Mikala told me you were at the reunion. She’s never forgotten you, you know. You were her white knight at the prom.”
Mikala wanted to crawl under the love seat, but Dawson chuckled. “I don’t know how much of a white knight I was.”
His green gaze rested on Mikala and she remembered everything about that night in vivid detail—her torn dress, the date who had tried to maul her in the back of his car, Dawson coming to her rescue when she’d called out. Even more than all that, she remembered Dawson’s gentle kiss on her forehead after he’d taken her home. She’d told her aunt what had happened.
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, Dawson turned back to Anna. “Did Mikala tell you I’m moving back to Miners Bluff?”
“No, she didn’t.” Anna waited for him to explain.
“I have a ten-year-old son. My wife died and he’s having a hard time. So I thought moving back here, giving him roots in a smaller community might help. Mikala’s skill as a music therapist is well-known. She’s going to spend some time with him.”
“Well, if anyone can help him get settled again, I’m sure she can. Is your son with you?”
“No, not yet. I came up today to meet with Mikala, to see the school and register him, to stay over and re-familiarize myself with what’s here. I’ll bring Luke up to Miners Bluff in a couple of weeks when his term in Phoenix ends.”
“I see.” Anna paused, looked at Mikala and then asked Dawson, “Do you have a place to stay tonight … or when you move back?”
“Not yet. I was going to check into a motel and look for something temporary until I find a house. I’m going to check around before I return to Phoenix.”
“If I could make a suggestion,” Anna offered.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Dawson responded with that smile that could disarm anyone. He’d always been an easy conversationalist. As senior class president and a basketball star, he’d had his pick of girls to date. Yet his circle of friends had been most important to him.
“January isn’t a prime tourist month in Miners Bluff,” Anna explained wryly. “So the bed-and-breakfast has two suites vacant, one on the first floor with one bedroom and one on the third with two bedrooms. You could have your pick. For tonight and for when you return. I’d even give you a weekly rate since you don’t know how long you’d need to stay.”
“Aunt Anna, Dawson might want something … different than the B and B.”
Actually, Dawson looked relieved. “No, I think the Purple Pansy might be perfect. Convenient for tonight. And just right for me and Luke. Staying here could be good for him. That is, if your biscotti and pie are part of the deal.”
Anna laughed. “You drive a hard bargain. But biscotti are always in the jar and I make pies twice a week. I never know who will drop in, or if I’ll get a last-minute reservation.”
“Could I take a look at the suites now?” Dawson asked.
“Well …” Anna drawled. “I have a meeting in town. But Mikala could show them to you.”
Her aunt hadn’t mentioned a meeting that morning when they’d spoken. She wasn’t trying to play matchmaker, was she? Because Dawson wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t sure she was, either—or would ever be.
Dawson was looking at her expectantly.
“Sure, I can show them to you. We should have enough time before your appointment.”
Mikala took her wool jacket from the coatrack behind the door, slipped it on and buttoned it up to the neck even though they weren’t walking very far. For some reason she felt as if she needed all of her defenses buttoned into place around Dawson. Which made no sense. Her dreams of attracting someone like Dawson had died a long time ago. She knew she wasn’t sexy. She knew loving brought heartache and doubled a woman’s insecurities.
In high school Dawson’s casual good looks had gotten him dates with all the popular girls and his souped-up Mustang had made him the envy of most of the guys. Dawson had been popular and cool. Playing basketball and being able to talk to anyone had helped that image.
She, on the other hand, had been mostly quiet and introspective.
Locking up the high school memories in a tight box, she led Dawson out the door and up the flagstone path to the Purple Pansy, not only a well-liked B and B on the northern Arizona tourist route, but her home for all of her thirty-three years. Her aunt had run the B and B since before Mikala was born in addition to giving piano lessons, taking in typing for a temp agency and working as a receptionist on and off. Anna had worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, good food on the table and laughter in the kitchen. Mikala knew she could never repay her aunt for raising her when her mother had left and hardly looked back.
“There’s snow in the air,” Dawson remarked, as they walked along the path profuse with flowers in summer and fall, now barren with the winter cold.
Glancing over at Dawson, she had to look up. She wasn’t short. She was a good five-eight. “Very different from Phoenix.”
“Maybe I can coax Luke outdoors more here and involve him in winter sports. He spends too much time cooped up in his room. Cactus and heat don’t help.”
“Does he have a specific reason for fighting the move?” No one particularly liked change, but children could be more resilient than adults.
“He’s protesting in part because my dad’s staying there. And, of course, Phoenix is the only home he knows. It’s where we were a family. Where he had his mom.”
Mikala saw the sadness in Dawson’s eyes when he spoke of his deceased wife. But she sensed he was hurting more for Luke than himself. Was she right about that? Had Dawson’s marriage been less than he’d expected it to be? Had an unplanned pregnancy made it rocky from the start?
On the patio of the B and B, Dawson looked around at the sycamores and pines, Moonshadow Mountain and Feather Peak in the distance.
“It’s just as I remembered it.”
There was nostalgia in his voice and she wondered exactly what he was remembering.
When they stepped into the kitchen, Mikala caught the scent of vanilla and lavender. The whole house seemed to have that scent, except when she or her aunt were baking. Then cinnamon and fruit smells filled every nook and cranny.
There was surprise in Dawson’s voice when he said, “This changed.”
The house was about a hundred years old and well-maintained. Overall, it had an old-fashioned air, with bronze sconces on walls that resembled oil lamps, ceiling lights with chandelier bulbs and wallpaper with tiny purple and yellow flowers. However, the kitchen had seen a major overhaul.
Glancing around, Mikala smiled.