Snow Angels by Fern Michaels, Rosalind Noonan, Marie Bostwick, Janna McMahan Read Free Book Online Page B

name. As an afterthought she also added her mother’s cell-phone number. Who knew? They could be out looking for her right that very minute. Grace didn’t want to miss her one chance to let them know they weren’t in any danger. Well, the girls weren’t in any immediate danger, but she could be if she didn’t stop thinking about Max Jorgenson’s personal life and how it might mesh with her own.
    “Miss Grace! Miss Grace!” both girls called in unison as they ran down the stairs. “Can we build a snowman? Look at all the snow outside!”
    Grace glanced at Max, giving him an, Oh boy, this is where I could get into trouble look.
    “I don’t know. We don’t have the proper clothes, remember how cold it is. I was about to make breakfast in the fireplace. How about you two give me a hand? I bet I can find some Christmas music for us to listen to while we’re cooking. How does that sound?” Grace asked, adding an extra dollop of cheer to her voice.
    “Okay,” Amanda said. “But I would really, really rather build a snowman than cook. Just so you know.”
    Grace burst out laughing. She was shocked when she heard Max’s slight laugh. She didn’t think he had it in him. Wrong again.
    “I’ll try to remember that, kiddo. Now why don’t the pair of you run upstairs and get dressed. I’ll need your help in a few minutes.”
    The girls raced upstairs, shrieking and laughing. Grace was thrilled to hear their childish gibberish because she knew it was a sign that they would eventually be fine despite the traumatic home life they’d only recently escaped. Kids bounced back quickly after tragedy struck. Too bad some of their lightheartedness couldn’t rub off on Max. Permanently.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him grab her keys where she’d left them, turn, and head for the front door, allowing the dogs to come inside after a quick but brisk run.
    “Be careful,” she called out to his silhouette, framed in the sunlight. She watched him walk down the steps she’d used just hours ago.
    Max Jorgenson was a loner, a wounded man who obviously wanted nothing more than to live his life here on this mountain in the middle of nowhere, undisturbed. So why did she feel the urge to count the minutes until he returned? Why did she feel as if a hummingbird’s wings fluttered against her rib cage when she looked at him? Telling herself it was nothing more than middle-aged lust, she stepped outside and removed a slab of bacon from the bag she’d placed there earlier that morning.
    Grace couldn’t have predicted the last twelve hours if her life had depended on it. Reliable, steady, sure of herself, she remained coolheaded and in control of almost any situation she found herself in. Now she found her thoughts wandering and was having trouble focusing. The past few hours had been almost surreal. She’d never been in a situation where she’d felt so totally out of control. Until now. Saying a silent prayer that Max or someone would contact Stephanie, Grace returned to the kitchen to make breakfast.
    Locating a radio station playing Christmas carols, she searched through the cupboards until she found a well-used iron skillet, which surprised her. Must be what he used for his bacon and eggs. Using a fork to pry the frozen bacon apart, she lined the frying pan with several slices. She found a cookie sheet and brought it over to the fireplace. Having placed the baking sheet on the logs, she waited until she could see that it was steady, then set the skillet on top. Within minutes the scent of bacon frying permeated the room. Grace realized she was hungry. “Girls,” she called up the stairs, “I need your help.” She didn’t really, but wanted to include them hoping it would take their minds off venturing outside in the freezing cold.
    “Here we are! We don’t have a toothbrush, Miss Grace. Mommy tells us to brush our teeth first thing in the morning. And nighttime, too. But we can’t without a toothbrush. Do you