LITMIR.BIZ

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CHAPTER FIVE

      EARLY TUESDAY MORNING, Nicole got dressed and walked quietly down the stairs of the Yosemite suite. She hadn’t gotten much chance to explore the suite after arriving the previous afternoon and wanted to indulge her curiosity.

      She’d taken an architectural history class in college and particularly loved homes from the Victorian period.

      From the little Luke had said, she’d expected a pokey set of rooms carved out of the servants’ quarters of an old house. It was nothing of the kind. Everything was lovely. The rooms were spacious—not the size of Luke’s home in Austin, but very nice—with great architectural details. The overall feel was gracious comfort.

      Nicole looked out the windows and took in the garden and hillsides beyond. It seemed fitting that the John Muir Cottage was on the edge of town since it was a huge, old Victorian farmhouse.

      A faint smile curved her mouth as she thought about the families that must have lived there, expanding the building to accommodate new generations of married children and grandchildren. She hadn’t resented their nomadic childhood the way Luke had, but having a real home with roots was immensely appealing.

      Curiously she looked around the kitchen. It was nicer than the one in her condo, but since she didn’t cook, she hadn’t looked for a place with a showcase kitchen and appliances. The real-estate agent had objected, talking about resale value, but Nicole wasn’t worried about that. The condo met her needs and she didn’t expect to get married or sell anytime soon. Dating tended to be casual since she’d discovered that some men felt her connection to Luke Forrester was her biggest appeal.

      With the ease of long practice, she pushed the thought from her head. She couldn’t regret being Luke’s sister, but it brought challenges.

      A tap sounded on the front door and she remembered Luke mentioning that the catering service delivered breakfast between seven and eight in the morning. She peeked out to be sure it was them and opened the door.

      “Hi,” said the woman carrying two insulated containers. “I’m from Sarah’s Sweet Treats Catering Service. I’m a couple minutes early, but I saw the light turn on in the kitchen. May I come in?”

      “Oh, yes, of course.” Nicole stepped back and the catering employee walked briskly inside. “I’m Nicole Forrester. You’ve probably met my brother and nieces.”

      “Yes—cute kids. Did you get in yesterday?”

      “Midafternoon.”

      “Welcome to Poppy Gold. I’m Mariko Kirahara.” Mariko put the insulated containers on the counter. “Cold items are in the bag with the blue tag and hot in the other. Instructions are on the labels.”

      “Don’t you need to take them with you?”

      “Nope.” Mariko opened a cupboard door and removed identical bags. “These are from yesterday. The housekeeping staff puts them here for us. Have a great day.”

      “You, too.”

      Mariko left quickly, probably because she had other food to deliver. Poppy Gold was huge and must provide accommodations for hundreds of guests each day.

      After Nicole had arrived the previous day, Luke and the girls had shown her around the Victorian village. The sledding hill and skating rink were huge attractions, along with the lighted historic vehicle parade that occurred each evening.

      But Beth and Annie’s greatest excitement had been introducing her to Carlie Benton, the Poppy Gold activities director. Carlie seemed to have instantly inspired pure adoration from the twins.

      Nicole sighed and investigated the coffeemaker. It was similar to the one she used at home, so she quickly filled the filter with coffee and poured water into the reservoir. Soon a rich fragrance filled the air.

      Mmm. Making coffee was one of the few domestic skills she possessed. When she and Luke had talked late Saturday evening, he’d mentioned that Poppy Gold Inns had their own special blend. His description of “remarkably flavorful” had made her look forward to a taste. Her brother didn’t bestow praise lightly.

      There were unopened containers of cream in the fridge and Nicole made her cup rich and sweet. But before she could take a sip, Luke appeared at the kitchen door.

      “Did I wake you up?” she asked.

      “It wasn’t you. I haven’t slept much since...well, for over a year.” He rubbed his face.

      Nicole poured him a cup of coffee and sat in the picturesque breakfast nook, unsure how to respond. His reluctance to say Erika’s name was the reason everyone else danced around it, as well.

      Understanding Luke seemed impossible. Maybe part of the problem was the age and experience gap. She was thirty; he was nine years older. By the time she’d started college he was already wealthy and successful. She hadn’t married, while he was a widower with two children. He was fearless; she was practically scared of her own shadow.

      Still, even as a child, Luke had kept a piece of himself separate, watchful, as if holding off the world. Perhaps it was because she’d always had him to depend upon, while he’d only had himself. Nicole didn’t count their parents as reliable support; as Luke said often, Craig and Heather had a long way to go before they became responsible adults.

      Luke sat down and stared into the steam rising from his cup.

      “How late were you up?” she asked.

      “I’m not sure. I was working. Three or four, probably. Tilly didn’t want to send anything for me to look at, but I insisted.”

      Nicole pressed her lips together. Tilly Robinson was probably the only person in the world who would challenge Luke. Sometimes she won, sometimes she didn’t. Nicole envied her, and at the same time was frustrated that somebody else could be closer to Luke than his own family.

      “Surely your business interests could survive a few weeks without your spending so much time on them,” she suggested carefully.

      “If I can’t sleep, I might as well work,” Luke murmured, still looking only half-awake. “Oh, the tutor started yesterday. She’s coming weekday mornings at eight thirty to work with the girls for a few hours and will stay if we’re out for some reason. Beth and Annie are playing in their room. I’ll call them down for breakfast.”

      Wanting to be useful, Nicole set the table and then unpacked the two insulated bags. The food smelled delicious. Everything was out on the table when Beth and Annie appeared and sat quietly. In a sad way it reminded Nicole of her own childhood, when they’d stayed with other families and were expected to be invisible. Luke had rebelled, but she’d learned the lesson all too well.

      “Would you like orange juice?” she asked.

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