Snowbound Bride-to-Be Read Online Free PDF Page B

big-screen TV, to while away the hours in before the road reopened.
    But he wasn’t by himself, and the fact that he wasn’t changed his ability to choose.
    Every single decision Ryder made had to be run through the filter of what was best for Tess. Obviously it wasn’t a place with a pool table, however comforting he would have found a rowdy male environment.
    What was best for Tess? In the long run? He knew people wondered if he could possibly be the best guardian for her. Some of the bolder ones had even hinted that the most lovingthing to do would be to find her a real family, a mother who could actually get a comb through her hair, who would enjoy the intricacies of those silly, frilly, small dresses.
    But his brother and Tracy had wanted him to have her. He’d been stunned that they’d had a will, that they had appointed him guardian.
    Despite the fact he knew himself to be terribly flawed, Ryder could not ever let her go. Tess was what was left of his brother. He was fierce in his protection of her. He hired a nanny who looked after the baby details—hair, baths, clothes—but Mrs. Markle had abandoned him for Christmas to be with her own family.
    His initial awkwardness with the baby had quickly given way to absolute devotion. What was left of his heart belonged firmly to that little spark of spirit that represented all that was left of Drew and Tracy’s great love for each other.
    “I can show you to a room, or take you through to the kitchen to get something to eat first.”
    Tess had nursed a bottle in the car, but could use something solid. But Ryder realized he was also starving. And exhausted from fighting with the roads. If he had something to eat and a nap, he would be ready to leave here the second there was a break in the weather and the roads reopened.
    “Something to eat sounds good.” He could feel his own caution, as if even agreeing to have something to eat was tampering with forces he was not ready to tamper with.
    “It must have been a nightmare out there,” his hostess said, still lugging Tess, leading him down a narrow hallway that ended in a swinging door. She gave it a push with her hip.
    “A nightmare,” he agreed. “Hell, only the cold version, decorated in white.” Something like her inn.
    She didn’t miss the reference to white decorations, and hesaw her take his comment like a blow, as a personal insult. Too sensitive. Was that why she’d been hurt?
    “Nothing against white decorations,” he said curtly, his insincerity just making everything worse.
    Vinegar and milk , he told himself.
    He wanted to say he wasn’t hungry, after all. Wanted to retreat to a room, hoping it wouldn’t be too overwhelmingly Chrismasified, but the truth was, now that he was not battling his way through terrible conditions, he was ravenous.
    And even if he wasn’t, the baby had to eat something out of one of those little jars of mash he carried with him.
    His initial relief that the kitchen was an oasis of “not decorated” evaporated. The smells were intense in this room, as was the atmosphere of country cheer and charm: sunshine-yellow walls, white cabinets, old gray linoleum floors polished to high gloss. But, like the door handle falling off, he could see hints of problems, frost on the inside of the windows, a tap dripping.
    A huge plank harvest table dominated the room and was covered in platters and platters of cookies.
    On a closer look, there were cookies shaped like trees, and cookies frosted in pink, Santa cookies, and chocolate-dipped cookies, gingerbread men and gingerbread houses.
    “You weren’t kidding that you were expecting guests,” he said. “How many?”
    “I was hoping for a hundred.”
    He shot her a wary look at the disappointment in her voice. “You were expecting a hundred people here tonight?”
    “The opening night of Holiday Happenings,” she said, and he did his best to remain expressionless at how horrifying he found that name. She took his silence,