Snowbound with a Billionaire. Jules Bennett

she could call the tow truck. Hopefully her car was drivable when it was on all four tires again, because if there was any damage, there was no way she could pay for it.

      But even if there was damage under the hood, she’d think of something. She’d been doing a lot of praying since Abby had come into her life. Every decision made wasn’t just for Raine anymore. Life may have been easier before, but it sure had been empty. Now she was filled with such a sense of joy and purpose, and it was due in large part to this precious little girl. As she lay Abby down in her crib, she made sure to place a very thin blanket over her legs to keep her warm. Raine tiptoed out of the room and went into her bedroom to call a tow truck.

      But all she got was the receptionist who indicated all the drivers were out on calls from all over the county, and they’d put her on the list. Which was fine with her. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight anyway, and her car was off the road, so unless another driver went off the road and slammed into it, all was well.

      Raine put on a kettle of water to boil. She may be the only person left living under the age of sixty who still used a tea kettle and boiled water the old-fashioned way. She knew she was old-fashioned in pretty much everything, which was probably why she had no man in her life. But in all honesty, Raine didn’t mind being labeled as “weird” or “hippie” or her absolute favorite, “tree hugger.”

      So she liked to use her own herbs, grow her own veggies, and make organic lotions, soaps and other feminine products. Did that really make her stand out so much? All this processed stuff was killing people, and she wanted better for her life, her baby.

      Which was just one more area where her parents thought Raine was being difficult. They simply didn’t understand Raine’s need to grow organic and make a little more effort in being healthy.

      Her parents were more concerned about driving the flashiest cars, keeping up country-club appearances and being on the right board of commissioners at said country clubs.

      Maybe men were just thrown off by Abby. Some men weren’t all that comfortable around children.

      Like Max Ford. She hadn’t missed those wide, terrified eyes when he’d first caught a glimpse of the carrier. Oh, he’d been the perfect gentleman and had helped her, but she knew men like him, who, at the first sight of spit up or a smelly diaper, would turn tail and run.

      Not that Max needed any reason to run. He’d had a life planned with her; yet he still had found something more appealing, and instead of facing her, he had avoided her.

      The man was used to winning awards, filming epic movies and smiling that knee-weakening grin for the cameras.

      The tea kettle’s shrill whistle cut through her thoughts. Why did he have to come back here? Why did she have to run into him right after she had driven her car into a ditch? And why on earth was she allowing past emotions—and unsettled feelings—to ruin her evening? Lord knows she had other things that she needed to focus on.

      Just as she grabbed her favorite flavor of tea from the crock on the counter, her cell rang. Raine pulled the phone from her pocket and resisted the urge to groan...as she did each time she saw the number pop up on her screen.

      “Good evening, Mother.”

      “Loraine, I’m calling to let you know the luncheon I had planned for tomorrow has been postponed.”

      Raine didn’t sigh, didn’t roll her eyes—okay, in her head she did—but she refrained from physically doing so, because she knew the gesture would come through in her tone.

      She found her favorite mug for drinking tea. A tacky one with a hot, hunky man draped around it. When filled with hot liquid, his clothes disappeared. Who needed a traditional tea cup and saucer?

      And if her mother forced her hand at this ridiculous luncheon, the mug might make an appearance.

      “Mother, I hadn’t planned on coming, remember?”

      “Oh, darling, of course you’ll be here. I mean, really. When are you going to stop being so stubborn?”

      Raine opened the small cabinet above her stove and pulled out the bottle of whiskey she kept on hand for emergencies. And talking with her mother was most definitely an emergency.

      “Let’s not go through this again, Mother,” she pleaded as she poured a dab of liquor into her hot tea. “We’ve agreed to disagree. You don’t like my social life. I don’t like yours.”

      “You don’t have a social life, Raine!” her mother exclaimed. “I don’t understand why you won’t get out a little more, get a job, go back to college for heaven’s sake. Let someone else adopt that baby. It’s not too late to back out.”

      Not even an option. No way was anyone else going to adopt Abby. Raine never dreamed the adoption process would take this long, but even if it took ten years, she wasn’t letting go of this beloved child.

      She’d already lost one baby and was blessed enough to have been given a second chance at motherhood. Abby was a precious bundle that tucked so perfectly into Raine’s life.

      “Mom, I have to go check on Abby.”

      “If you’re so insistent on keeping her, the least you could do is let me see her,” her mother said with a huff.

      That was a worry Raine had wrestled with, and one that had kept her up many nights. Raine had always heard the saying “It took a village to raise a child,” but she just wasn’t sure she could allow her mother’s influences to trickle down to Abby.

      “You’ve seen her, Mom,” Raine said defensively, then took a sip of her tea, welcoming the burn as it slid down her throat.

      “Not enough. She needs to know her place in this family, Raine.”

      Setting the china cup down, Raine took a deep breath so she didn’t explode. “Mother, she’s three months old. Her place right now is as my child. Nothing more.”

      “I didn’t call to argue. The luncheon has been rescheduled for next Saturday, and I expect you and Abigail to attend.”

      “Her name is Abby, Mother.”

      “Abigail is more dignified.”

      “But that’s not her legal name, so if you refer to her again, call her by the name I chose for her.”

      Her mother sniffed into the phone. “I don’t know where I went wrong with you,” she cried. “I just want what’s best.”

      “For whom, Mother? Best for me, or best for you and your social status?”

      Silence settled in on the other end of the line and Raine knew she’d gone too far...again. This is how nearly all of their calls went, and in the end Raine always felt guilty and mentally drained.

      “I’ll talk to you later, Mother.”

      Raine hung up and rested her palms on the edge of the chipped countertop. Why did she let her mother get to her? For twenty-eight years the woman had tried to make her feel like an outcast, and the majority of that time she’d succeeded. The only person who’d ever really understood her had been her grandmother; but when she had passed eight years ago, Raine had been truly alone.

      The wind picked up outside, rattling the old windows. She took her cup and headed to her favorite room of the house. The room where she felt at home, where she could be creative, and no one was there to stifle the process.

      Her grandmother’s old bedroom, where Raine mixed all her lotions and made her specialty soaps. This was the perfect place to work, since it was right next to the nursery, and she felt so much closer to her grandmother here. But as Raine pulled a few ingredients off the shelf, she thought of Max. At one time he’d consumed all of her thoughts, all of her heart and soul. And, damn him, he looked even better now than he had when she’d been totally in love with him.

      Hollywood had put him on this pedestal, elevating him to superstar status in no time, and she’d been back home soaking it all in via media