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Tiny bells started tinkling in her head.
Matt suddenly broke the kiss, held her shoulders to steady her, and turned with a harsh glare aimed at the door. Winter quickly stepped back at the realization they were no longer alone, spun on her heel, and ran behind the counter.
“Good morning,” Tom said. “That was quite a wild storm we had last night, wasn’t it?”
Not nearly as wild as the one raging inside her right now, Winter decided. “Ah, good morning, Tom. You’re out early.”
Tom didn’t answer her, his attention focused on Matt. The old hermit tucked a package under his left arm and extended his right hand. “Morning, Gregor,” he said, shaking the hand Matt extended in return. “You don’t look like you’re ready to hike the woods this afternoon.”
“I’m afraid I have to take a rain check on our sunset,” Matt said. “I need to go to my office and take care of a small matter. I’ll be back this evening, though. Maybe tomorrow?”
Tom nodded. “I believe I might be free tomorrow. That your jet I was looking at this morning up at the airport?”
“It’s mine.”
“Will she really do mach one?”
Winter could only gape at Tom. How could he possibly know Matt’s jet went that fast?
Matt apparently wondered the same thing. He folded his arms over his chest and lifted one brow. “What makes you think she goes mach one?”
Tom shrugged. “I’m a bit of an aviation junkie,” he said in way of explanation. “Seems I remember reading an article about a company in Utah trying to adapt military jet engines to corporate jets a couple of years back.” He gri
Matt inclined his head, a slight smile lifting one side of his mouth. “She goes mach one,” he confirmed. He nodded toward Winter. “Though our little friend here doesn’t believe me.”
Tom laughed. “Winter’s more likely to believe fairies fly at mach one,” he said, lifting the package from under his arm and unwrapping it. “I have something for you, Gregor, for your new house.”
Curiosity propelled Winter around the counter to see what Tom had brought.
“It’s just one part of a prototype, as they say in your business,” Tom said, finally revealing his surprise. “The scale is eight to one, and the final piece should probably be made of granite rather than wood.”
Winter leaned closer and frowned.
Tom held the foot-tall statue toward her, angling it to show her the front. “Have I got the wording right?” he asked. “The book I looked it up in wasn’t that clear.”
Winter read the words to herself: Saobhaidh a’ Mhathain. She nudged Tom to give the statue to Matt. “It’s right,” she said. “You pronounce it Seu-vee uh Va-han.”
“And it means?” Matt asked, taking the wooden piece and holding it up to examine, even turning it upside down before he looked at Winter for his answer.
“The bear’s den,” she told him. “It’s Gaelic, and that’s the perfect name for your new home.”
Matt looked sharply at Tom. “What made you choose a bear’s den for me?”
Tom shrugged. “You own Bear Mountain, so I thought that if you’re building your home there, it was only appropriate.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Why Gaelic?”
“Why not?” Tom returned. “Gregor is Scots, isn’t it?”
“But where’s the bear, Tom?” Winter asked before Matt could respond, taking the wooden figure from Matt to examine.
Tom had carved a miniature bear’s den in a wooden likeness of a granite cliff surrounded by trees and boulders. The bottom of the cliff had been hollowed into a cave, the interior floor lined with straw and fir branches. Over the top of the den was a board with the Gaelic name carved into it. But the den was empty.
“I haven’t carved the bear yet,” Tom said.
Winter narrowed her eyes at him. “You couldn’t have done this in one day,” she said. She shook her head, looking at the delicately carved trees, granite, and boulders. Even the fur bows and cut grass inside the cave were perfectly detailed from the single piece of wood. “This would have taken you weeks.”
Tom shrugged. “It took me nearly a month. I started it quite a while ago, then shelved it.” He looked at Matt. “But when I learned you were building a house on Bear Mountain, I dug around until I found it again, and thought you might like to have a full-scale statue for your new home.”
Matt took the statue from Winter, gave it another careful inspection, then turned a calculating look on Tom. “How much?”
Tom gri
Matt gave a bark of laughter and handed the statue back to Tom. “Then you should probably hold on to this, if it’s your working model. Can you have the full-scale project finished by the time my house is done?”
Winter wanted to shout with joy, but instead she reached over, grabbed Matt by the sleeve, and pulled him down to give him a big kiss on the cheek. “You have an artist in residence, Mr. Gregor,”
she said, smiling broadly at his stu
Tom, are brilliant.”
She spun back to Matt. “You need to get out of here if you want to be back by di
Matt’s eyes locked on hers. “What color?” he asked softly.
“Green.”
He nodded, his heated gaze holding her captive. Curses, he wasn’t even touching her and Winter felt herself melting into a puddle of mush! She was just starting to buckle at the knees when Matt broke the spell by looking over her head at Tom and nodding. “I’ll be at your cabin tomorrow afternoon about an hour before sunset,” he said before suddenly walking out the door. The tiny bell made Winter’s nerve tingle with awareness as she watched Matt head toward the black truck parked just down the street.
“It’s about time a man came along and put some color in your cheeks,” Tom said.
Winter turned to find Tom wrapping up his model. She reached over to stop him, giving him a good glare. “Not one word about his straightening out my being spoiled,” she said, taking the carving and walking behind the counter. She set it down on the counter and smiled. “You’re more sneaky than Gesader, Tom. I couldn’t have come up with a better idea myself. Now Matt can’t kick you out.”
Tom walked over and stood opposite her. “This man you thought so poorly of because you feared he might evict me—I’m surprised to find you kissing him.”
Feeling her cheeks flaming red again, Winter wanted to crawl inside the little bear’s den sitting on her counter and pull one of its bushes closed behind her.
Tom laughed and picked up the model, handling it as if it were no more precious than an old rock he’d found on the shore of Pine Lake. “I better start earning my rent,” he said, wrapping it back up in the towel. “So, Goldie Locks,” he added, tucking the carving under his arm and gri
Winter blinked at him, her jaw momentarily slackened in shock. “What is it with everyone around here?” she snapped. “You all have me practically married to a man I met two days ago.”
Tom’s eyes danced with amusement. “Seems to me you’ve gotten rather well acquainted in only two days,” he said, turning and starting toward the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob and gri
Winter just stared after him, stu