Firefly Glen: Winter Baby (Harlequin Signature Select) by Kathleen O`Brien

deep, philosophical conversations over a game of chess. Uncle Ward had been the world’s best listener, and his young, unhappy great-niece had had much she wanted to say.
    Suddenly she was so eager to see her uncle that she wanted to burst through those doors and wrap her arms around him. She felt a burning behind her eyes, thinking of him living in this huge, strange mansion,all alone now that Aunt Roberta was gone. She wanted to hold him close, to apologize for letting Ed stop her from coming to Aunt Roberta’s funeral. And she wanted to thank him for extending his friendship, opening his haven—on that long-ago summer, and again today, when she was almost as vulnerable as she had been at thirteen.
    But that was probably just the hormones acting up again. With effort she restrained herself. Effusive boiling over of affection wasn’t Uncle Ward’s style. If such feelings were ever to be shared between them, it would be more subtle. Indirectly, through a seemingly impersonal discussion of art or literature or theater, they would make their emotions understood.
    So Sarah hung back, letting Madeline, who obviously relished acting as mistress of the mansion, throw open the ornate doors and announce her formally.
    It took a moment for Sarah’s eyes to adjust to the light, what little there was. Red and yellow stained-glass windows made up one whole wall of the library, and the winter sun was just barely strong enough to penetrate. The result was that everything—leather-bound books, mahogany tables, Oriental carpets and people alike—seemed washed in a watery golden glow.
    Sarah had been expecting to see her uncle enthroned here in lonely splendor. But as her vision cleared she saw that at least four other people were in the room.
    Two women of approximately Madeline’s ageperched in the window seat, pouring tea from a tea set that probably was silver but glowed an eerie bronze in the strange light. Her uncle sat in his usual chair—his throne, Aunt Roberta had always teasingly called it. It was a heavy, carved monstrosity with serpent arms and lion’s claw feet.
    And in the chair beside him sat another man. This had been Sarah’s chair, that summer. The chair of honor. The chair of the chosen chess partner, the lucky confidant, the favored friend.
    She squinted, unable to believe her eyes. But it was true. The man who sat in that chair today was the sheriff of Firefly Glen. The man who, just half an hour ago, had threatened to put her uncle in jail.

CHAPTER FOUR
    S ARAH WENT FIRST to her uncle, surrendering in spite of herself to the overwhelming impulse to envelop him in a tight hug. For a long moment, she remained there, silently drinking in the comfort of his wiry strength, his familiar scent of soap and leather and pipe tobacco. Oh, she was so glad she had come. She hadn’t felt this safe in a long, long time.
    He accepted her embrace with uncharacteristic patience and warmth, as if perhaps he, too, had found the years apart too long and lonely. But just when she began to fear she might dissolve into overemotional tears, he patted her back briskly and chuckled in her ear.
    â€œIf you don’t let go soon, Sarah, my love, you’ll ruin my reputation as a prickly old bastard. And then I’ll have to beat the Alexander sisters off with a stick.”
    Sarah grinned and pulled away, finally remembering her manners. Turning, she faced the others. “I’m sorry,” she said, smiling. “Hello.”
    Madeline took over. “Oh, my dear, you mustn’t apologize. Of course you want to say hello to your uncle, after all these years. It’s just the sweetest thing. Well, now, I’d like you to meet my sisters. Flora andArlene, Flora’s the eldest. I’m the youngest, of course—” this with a flirtatious double blink in Ward’s direction. “I know they’ll be happy to pour a cup of tea for you. You do like tea, don’t