A Father For Bella. Jill Weatherholt

took off seeped back into her mind. Would Michael lose his job? Would she lose hers? And what about her home? The inn couldn’t be going up for auction out of nowhere, but according to the paper that was the owner’s plan. Why hadn’t she been told? As the manager for four years, she should have been informed.

      She couldn’t think about that—not now. “Yes, Michael came from a popular restaurant in New York City about three years ago. He gave up the frantic pace of city life. We’re grateful we hired him. He knows how to bring in the crowds.”

      “They’re not all guests, are they?”

      She shook her head. “No, we’ve got a lot of the locals who love his food.”

      Where would everyone eat after the inn was sold? The paper said there were rumors of an upscale resort and condos. What would happen to the quaint cottage she rented on the property? Bella called it their gingerbread house. It’d been their home since the fire.

      Faith stepped behind a mahogany counter and tapped her fingers on the keyboard. “Oh, I see you have reservations for four weeks.” Her head tilted to the side. “Our guests normally don’t stay that long. Many are weekend warriors who come up to hit the slopes. You must be a great skier.”

      He examined his fingernails. “I’m okay, I guess.”

      Faith scrolled through the information and took notice of the Bethesda address he’d mentioned earlier. Her best friend from high school had graduated from George Washington University in DC. Real estate in the surrounding area wasn’t cheap. She wondered what Joshua did for a living, but didn’t want to appear nosy by asking. “It’s nice you’re able to take so much time off from work.”

      He nodded and pulled his credit card from an eel-skin wallet. “I assume you take this? Or would you rather have a different kind?”

      Faith grabbed the card and swiped it through the machine. “This is fine.”

      The click of the equipment printing the receipt filled the air while they waited.

      “Earlier, I heard an advertisement for the inn on the radio. Do you do any other form of advertising?” He slipped his credit card into his wallet.

      He was certainly curious about the business. Perhaps he was only making conversation. “Not really. Word of mouth works well for the Black Bear.” She tugged the receipt from the machine and slid it across the counter for his signature.

      She stole a quick glance at the signature—Carlson. Why did the name seem familiar? “Do you have any family in the area?” She waited for his answer as he pulled a pack of peppermint gum from his pocket.

      “No, my family’s all from Bethesda.” He extended the pack of gum in front of her. “Would you like a piece?”

      Her cheeks warmed as she accepted the offer. “Thank you.” She peeled away the foil and slid the cool stick on her tongue. Peppermint had always been her favorite, too.

      “What about you? Any family in the area?”

      “Only my twin sister, Joy, and she’s a schoolteacher here in Whispering Slopes.”

      “Joy and Faith... I like that, and twins, too. When I was a kid, I always thought it would be great to have an identical twin. You know, to play tricks on your teachers and other kids.” He flashed a smile.

      She forced her eyes away from his rugged good looks. Why did he make her so nervous? “We’re not identical twins. Except for our hair color, we’re nothing alike, but we’re closer than any twins you’ll ever meet.” She rolled the gum wrapper between her fingers into a tight ball, anxious to get home.

      “I guess that made it easier on your parents. Do they live in the area?”

      Ready for him to leave, but not wanting to be rude, she answered. “They died in a car accident while driving to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to celebrate their anniversary.” She paused when a shiver ran down her spine. “Joy and I were only two years old, so our grandparents raised us—here in this house.” The sound of her parents’ voices or the feel of their touch was something she couldn’t remember. All that remained were a few boxes stuffed with crinkled photographs. Except for the past four years, she felt she’d barely had roots or a home—another reason why she couldn’t lose the inn.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to reopen old wounds.” His voice cracked.

      Faith shook her head. “No, it’s okay.” But it really wasn’t. Sharing pieces of her personal life with a strange man—what was she thinking? It was wrong. “Listen to me rambling on. You’re probably exhausted.” She stepped out from behind the counter with his room key in her hand. “Do you need help with your luggage?”

      “No, thank you. I can handle it.” He turned and headed toward the front door.

      With a stack of credit card receipts, Faith scuttled to her office, which was located off the foyer. The massive cherry desk that faced a floor-to-ceiling window provided her with an amazing daytime view, especially on snowy winter days. She slipped behind her desk and opened the lateral file drawer. She fingered through the manila file folders before placing the receipts inside. As she started to push the drawer closed, her eyes locked on a folder labeled “Our Dream.” She slammed the drawer shut. Our dream, baby—we both wanted it so bad. You’d still be alive if we’d gone after it sooner.

      Her thoughts shifted when Joshua stepped into the foyer carrying a large black suitcase, along with a leather briefcase. Perhaps this was an extended trip for pleasure and business. She pushed in the lock before pulling it shut and headed toward the door. “Let’s go upstairs. Your room is the first one on the right.”

      The sound of their footsteps echoed as they climbed the winding oak staircase. Once at the door, she slid the key into the doorknob and pushed it open.

      “Wow! I wasn’t expecting such a large room.” Joshua smiled and stepped inside. His gaze stopped at the stone fireplace. “And it has its own fireplace—very nice.”

      She flipped the light switch. The recessed lighting provided a warm glow throughout the room. “This is the largest of our five rooms. The other four are much smaller.” Heat filled her face. “Actually, it’s our honeymoon suite.”

      “I take it there’re no honeymooners coming into town the next four weeks.”

      She watched Joshua set his suitcase down on the luggage rack.

      “This office space is perfect.” He placed his briefcase on top of the desk.

      Faith flipped the plantation shutters closed. “We used to have it arranged as a sitting room, but one suggestion that continued to come up in the guest surveys was they’d like a workspace. I suppose with the internet, people don’t know how to unplug from the office anymore, even on their honeymoon.”

      He nodded. “I think the room is perfect, and it smells so outdoorsy.”

      “It’s pine. Usually for the honeymooners, we use lavender. We made a quick adjustment for you.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m going to let you get settled.” She handed over the key and pointed toward the desk. “The number for Mr. and Mrs. Watson is on that information sheet. They live on the premises in a spare room, off from the dining area. You’ll probably meet them when you go down to dinner. If you need anything, please give them a call.”

      Faith reached for the doorknob and turned around. “I almost forgot. Dinner’s served until nine thirty. I’m sure you’re starved.”

      “Actually, I am kind of hungry. I’ll definitely order the meat loaf. It smelled like my mother’s recipe.” He smiled.

      “Yes, Michael’s Thursday night special is a crowd-pleaser. He makes terrific garlic mashed potatoes, too.” Her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, and that was only a small bowl of vegetable soup.

      Joshua stepped toward the door and extended his hand. “Thank