Читать книгу Marriage At Circle M - DONNA ALWARD, Donna Alward - Страница 6

GRACE SHUT THE checkbook and sighed. Alex had done a good job with the books, but she was behind by a month or two. Not much wonder, Grace thought, taking a brain break. She leaned back in the desk chair and took a sip from her pop can. Alex was pregnant, chasing after a toddler and summer was the busiest time on a farm. Now it was up to Grace to straighten things out and keep things up-to-date. Even if Alex did get home soon, she was under orders for bed rest, and then after the baby came she’d be too exhausted to worry about payables and receivables. Grace wasn’t sure if being close to Mike so often was going to be a blessing or a curse.

But she was all too happy to fill in. She loved accounting. It was gratifying to see all those numbers line up just right and have things balance out at the end of the day. It was neat and orderly, and every time she finished printing a report or balancing an account, she got this great sense of accomplishment. With so much of her life feeling arbitrary and out of sync, balancing those columns was like something in her life was where it was supposed to be.

The downside was, in order to put food on the table, she had to do other jobs just to make ends meet. It was a small town, and without her C.P.A., she didn’t make enough to pay the bills with the few accounting jobs she had. She hired herself out as a cleaning lady as well. It supplemented her income and, to be honest, kept her from being too lonely. Yesterday she’d spent the entire day cleaning for Mrs. Darrin. When the cleaning was finished, she’d planned to go back home and finish painting the trim on her house. But Mrs. Darrin was feeling poorly and had asked Grace to tend to her garden as well, so Grace stayed and cut the grass and weeded the feeble bed in front of the house. After that, she’d stayed for tea. She appreciated the social contact almost as much as the paycheck. But because she’d put in a longer day, she’d been up since five this morning, finishing up the painting so she could spend the day at Windover.

“How’s it going?”

She swiveled hard in her chair, her hand swinging out so that some of the liquid splashed out of the pop can and landed on her white capris. She scowled up at him, her heart pounding from the sight of him standing in the doorway. He was so tall in his boots that it seemed that his head almost grazed the top of the door frame.

“God, Mike, how on earth do you manage to sneak up on someone like that?”

“I made enough noise to wake the dead. You were in the zone.”

Zoned out, more like it, but she wouldn’t admit that.

Her eyes lit on a rivulet of sweat beaded at the hollow of his throat. There was something so elementally attractive about a hardworking man. Something that didn’t come with expensive toiletries and business suits. It was that little bit of dirt, the little bit of scruff and the dedication and muscle it took to do what he did. When she didn’t say anything back to him, he raised one eyebrow in question.

“You…you don’t have your hat on,” she stammered, immediately feeling stupid at such an inane comment.

His other eyebrow lifted. “It’s around here somewhere.”

Oh, this was crazy. Every time he was out of the way she swore she wouldn’t be so affected the next time they met. Promised herself she’d forget about the past. Then she’d see him and she’d become a babbling idiot. She turned away from him deliberately, picking up her red pen and twisting it in her fingers.

“I still have work to do, so unless there’s something you needed…”

Even without his customary hat, he towered above her until he lowered himself by her chair. His knees cracked as he squatted, balancing on the heels of his boots. He put a hand on the arm of her chair and swung it a little so she was semifacing him.

“I came to ask another favor. I’d ask Johanna, but…”

“But a woman her age…chasing after a nearly two-year-old is taking its toll on her. I know. What’s up?”

He lifted his gray eyes to her. It was like magnets of opposite poles when she met his eyes with her own, pulling them together. As if nearly ten years hadn’t elapsed and they were back in Lloyd Andersen’s meadow on a cool Sunday morning. She was unable to turn away, instead drawn into the earnest depths.

“Alex is coming home tonight, and I wondered, that is…I know she’s supposed to be on bed rest and all, but…”

His words drew her out of her reverie. “You want to do something nice?”

“Yeah.” He smiled a little sheepishly and her heart warmed. It was one of the things she liked about him. He came across as all male and tough, then at the most unexpected times showed a thoughtful side.

“And you want me to help.”

“It’s not like I know much about this kind of thing. And Connor’s with Alex and not here to see to it.”

“I can make a special dinner,” she replied. “Dress Maren up in something pretty, make it a low-key welcome home with just the family.”

“Thank you, Grace. That’s perfect.”

She had a dirty house of her own, but it didn’t matter very much right now. She sighed. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see it besides herself. Spending the evening with the Madsens was just what the doctor ordered.

Mike heard the sigh and misinterpreted it. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have asked.” He straightened his knees, looming above her once more. “You’re already busy and tired. I can just order something in.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m happy to…”

His mood changed so quickly her head spun. His lips thinned and his jaw hardened at her words. He almost seemed like he was angry at her, and she didn’t have an idea why.

“You always are, Grace. Happy to. Every time someone asks for a favor, there you are. You’re working yourself to death, and for what? You’re clearly exhausted. Ordering in might be better—that way you get a break. Get some rest. I should have thought of it sooner.”

Here he was again, telling her how tired she looked. Her temper fired. What did Mike know about anything? And who was he to tell her what to do? He’d never asked for her input before, not even when they’d been dating. He’d just been…gone. That certainly hadn’t earned him the right to start dictating things now. “You know what, Mike? I’m a big girl. I think I know my own limits.”

“I don’t think you do.” His voice was sharp and her eyebrows lifted at the tone. “You’d work yourself into the ground if I let you. Don’t worry about dinner. Forget I mentioned it.”

“You know, you’re really starting to make me angry,” she answered, the words low. It might have sounded threatening to someone other than Mike, but there wasn’t much that got under his skin, and it was another thing about him that was making her mad right at that moment. “If you let me? I don’t recall requiring your permission, Mike Gardner. If I didn’t have time to do it, I’d say so. Whenever has it been a hardship spending time with Connor and Alex? It just so happens my evening is free, so there.”

Great. Now, in her anger, she’d made it sound like she had no social life whatsoever.

“And you could spend it sleeping, from the looks of it,” he continued, undeterred by her sharp tone. “I see how hard you work, Grace. You clean half the town, and do books for the other half. You’re on just about everyone’s ‘fill-in’ list and if there’s something going on, you’re in the thick of it! One of these days you’re going to make yourself sick!”

She stood from her chair, tears of absolute anger threatening. “Who in the world do you think you are, to criticize me?” She was gratified when he took a step back. “Who died and made you my sole protector and guardian?”

“Well someone clearly has to, if you’re not going to look after yourself!” His voice thundered through the room as they argued.

“I’m a grown woman, in case you hadn’t noticed!”

“Oh, I noticed all right!” He blurted it out, then everything fell silent.

He noticed, her heart rejoiced. Stop it, you ninny, she chided herself on the back of the thought. She was supposed to be infuriated with him right now. She was angry. She was in no mood to be played with. Not by Mike, not by anyone.

She cleared her throat, letting her hands drop to her sides. “Good, then. I’m glad we straightened that out. Now get out of my way so I can get started. If I’m making dinner, I need to finish this up.” She sent him a withering look. “Without your interference.”

Mike turned on a heel. Get out of her way? No problem! Not when she attacked him like that. She could just forget about him showing any concern for her welfare again!

He stalked out of the house, heading toward the east section where the concrete foundation for his house was being poured. Grace didn’t understand anything.

He’d always thought of her as a kid sister. When he’d finally settled here in eighth grade, she’d been in fourth. When he’d graduated high school, she’d just finished middle school.

Then she had grown up, and he’d taken notice. She’d been a picture of innocent beauty, and for a while he’d let himself care about her. He’d let her care about him. For a brief time, he’d let his heart dictate his actions instead of his head. He’d held her, kissed her. Cherished her like she deserved. But he’d fallen too fast and he knew once she saw him for who he really was, she’d cut and run. So he’d made sure he’d done the running first. As soon as the rodeo season started up that year, he’d hit the road and hadn’t looked back.

When she’d moved back after her divorce he’d been in town for a few weeks and was floored the first time he saw her. He kicked at the dry path with a leather toe, sending up a puff of dust. The years had made full the promise of the woman he’d thought she’d become. She was more than beautiful. She was exactly what a woman should be. Her beauty was natural, pure. It shone out from her, lit up by her generous heart and kind manner. The fact that her husband had seen fit to break her heart…he’d stewed about that one for a good long time, even partially blamed himself. It was a good thing the jerk didn’t live close by. Mike didn’t tend to let people get away with treating his friends like dirt beneath their shoes.

Because she was his friend, first and foremost, and he was torn between the girl she’d been and the woman she’d become. Stupid thing was, he had this uncanny urge to protect them both.

He wandered through the jobsite, joking with the men, grabbing a shovel and helping out. Still, she remained on his mind. Earlier in the summer, at the anniversary party for the Riley’s, Grace had indulged in a few too many vodka coolers and he’d laughingly danced with her. Old friends. Only she’d smiled up at him widely and said, “Mike, you’re so pretty.”

He’d made a joke of it but she’d been undaunted. “I bet you’re good in the sack, too. We’ve been ssspeculating.” She swept an arm to encompass a group of young women, all giggling behind their hands and watching Mike and Grace dance. “All that…mmm,” she’d finished, her eyelids drifting closed as she swayed her hips to the music.

He’d been shocked, to put it mildly, and more than a little embarrassed. Grace had come on to him and he hadn’t had a clue how to answer. He’d thought she’d put their fling in the past, especially when she’d moved to Edmonton and married. Heck, he’d only been back in town permanently since spring, setting up business with Connor. As they moved to the music, her curves felt soft and sexy in his arms and he’d asked plainly, “You think about that?”

She’d suddenly seemed to realize what she’d said, because her posture straightened and she’d colored to the hue of fireweed. “Shut up,” she’d snapped, trying to cover. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Her quick change of tone had relaxed him, giving him the upper hand again and he’d managed to tease her about it.

But the problem was, it had gone to his head. He’d done nothing but think of it since. Wondering how they’d be together. Wanting to kiss her, wondering if it would be the same as he remembered. Wanting to hold her—all night long. In his mind he could see what being with Grace would be like.

But Grace deserved more than an ex-saddle bronc rider with a spotted past, and he knew it. And somehow, he was going to show her that he was more than that. He just needed more time.

Mike halted before the screen door, taking a deep breath. He’d been too hard on her, he’d realized. He hated seeing her working so much, but somehow all his well-intentioned concern had come out wrong and now she had gotten angry with him. Hopefully she wasn’t still, but just in case, he’d cut across the field and come home along the ditch after leaving the building site.

He resisted the strange urge to knock. Instead he swung the door open and stepped inside.

He left his boots on the mat and made his way to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, watching Grace as she moved about the room.

Her slacks and blouse were protected by a flowered cobbler apron that she’d borrowed. As she carried plates to the table, the scent of frying chicken filled the air.

“Your table’s missing something.”

Her head snapped up. “When did you come in?”

“Just a minute ago. Supper smells great.”

She resumed setting the table. “It’s only chicken and salads. Something we can eat whenever they arrive. I dressed Maren and Johanna took her in. They’re all coming back together.”

“I thought you could use some decoration.” He stepped inside the room, holding out his hand.

“Flowers. You picked flowers?” Her fingers put down the cutlery as she stared at him.

“I thought they might make things a little more special.” He handed them to her, a mass of daisies and greenery he couldn’t name but knew by sight. He hadn’t picked weeds for a woman since he was in primary school and he’d tried to impress one of his foster moms.

Grace took the blooms from his hand, and he suddenly realized that he hadn’t exactly given them to her. He’d made it sound like they were for a centerpiece, that was all.

“I also thought they might soften you up for my apology.”

Her hands stilled over the vase she’d taken from the top of a pine buffet in the corner. “Apology?”

“I’m sorry we fought earlier.” He couldn’t bring himself to say he was sorry for everything. He found he wasn’t sorry for being concerned about her welfare. But he was sorry for upsetting her.

She turned to look at him, the vase of flowers in her hands. “I am, too.”

Their gazes met across the room. Lord, she had a way of looking at a man that made him want to do all sorts of things for her. Her lips were open just a hint, ripe for kissing, and her eyes were soft and wide. For a fleeting moment he wondered what she’d do if he simply closed the distance between them and kissed her like he’d wanted to for weeks. But the timing was wrong and the moment passed. Grace looked away.

“I was just worried, that’s all. I’ve known you a long time, Grace. I just want you to look after yourself.”

She put the flowers in the middle of the table and stood back. “Thanks for your concern, Mike, but it’s not necessary. I’ve been looking after myself for a while now.” She moved back to the stove, taking the lid off the electric frying pan and capably turning the chicken with metal tongs.

Of course she had, he acknowledged silently. She’d been back in town for what, five or six years? Living on her own all that time. Without him. But that didn’t stop the protective streak that seemed to rear its head every time she was around.

The screen door opened and voices filtered through the hall to the kitchen. “I think they’ve arrived,” Grace remarked, grabbing a platter. “Timing’s good, too. Chicken’s done.”

When Alex and Connor entered, Maren on Connor’s arm, Mike forced a smile. “Welcome home.”

Alex’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, you guys, you shouldn’t have.” She walked carefully, like she was afraid of breaking something. She looked over her shoulder at Johanna, then to the stove and Grace who was standing with the platter of chicken in her hands.

“You did this?”

“It was Mike’s idea. Be thankful I did the cooking and not him.”

Everyone laughed, including Mike who agreed. “I’ll make the coffee. Everything else I’ll trust to Grace.”

“Wise move,” Grace countered, but he was gratified to see her treat him to a genuine smile.

Alex’s smile widened and she leaned up to give Mike a quick hug. “You softie,” she whispered in his ear.

“Be quiet. That’s a secret,” he whispered back. Straightening, he chided her. “No work. We’re going to look after everything so you can just look after that bundle in there.” He pointed at her belly.

“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Connor said, putting Maren in her high chair and handing her a cracker. “Nothing’s more important than looking after our baby.”

Mike looked at Grace. Her face carried a strange expression as she looked at Alex. He’d almost swear she looked…wounded, he supposed. Her eyes were luminous, wide with hurt. He’d never quite seen that look before and didn’t know what to make of it. There was concern, he was sure, but there was something else. A deep, lingering sadness. But why would seeing Alex make her sad?

She caught him watching her and pasted on a smile, the expression disappearing as if it had never been. “Put the chicken on, will you, Mike? I’ll get the rest of the food out of the fridge.”

They all sat down to a celebratory dinner, but Mike couldn’t forget that haunted look on Grace’s face.

Connor and Alex were putting Maren to bed; Johanna was cleaning up the kitchen. Grace had tried to help but Johanna had shooed her away, saying the cooks didn’t need to wash dishes. Grace knew she should just get in her car and go home, but instead she wandered out to the garden in the twilight, smelling the fragrant sweet peas that climbed the white latticed pergola.

The moon started its ascent. Frogs chirped from the pond down behind the barn. Grace sighed. If she went home now she’d end up feeling sorry for herself and spending the evening with a bowl of ice cream and a box of tissues. Despite the worry of the present, the Madsens were a happy family. Strong and bonded. She’d thought she’d have that, once, but now knew it would never happen. Most times she was okay with it. But times like this…times like this it hit her hard, made her mourn what she’d lost and what she’d never have.

She’d never have her own family.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it.”

Mike’s voice interrupted the quiet sounds of dusk and Grace swallowed the ball of emotion that had gathered in her throat. “Sure is.”

“You going to tell me what’s making you so blue?”

He was standing a little behind her and she kept her back to him. If she looked at him she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t lose it, and what an awkward mess that would be.

“I’m fine. Just enjoying the evening.”

“Grace Lundquist, you’re a bad liar.”

She sighed, willing him to stay behind her. Her eyes closed. “Just leave it be, Mike.”

He was quiet for a moment and Grace wondered if he’d gone. Then his voice came back, low and rumbly.

“I can’t.”

Oh, why did he have to be so concerned and caring all of a sudden? Mike didn’t think of her in any way besides a friend, and even if he did, it wouldn’t make sense to pursue anything, no matter how long she’d had a crush on him. He didn’t stay anywhere for long, or with anyone. In all the years she’d known him, he’d only had brief, fun relationships. Nothing serious. And Grace didn’t do brief and fun.

She had, once. And she’d thought Mike had really cared about her. She supposed in his own way, he had. But not enough. He hadn’t even broken up with her. He’d just gone.

She cared about him, yes. She admitted that much to herself. But she couldn’t let herself get too close. She didn’t trust him not to leave her again, and she wasn’t into making the same mistake twice.

No, they’d get along much better if they stuck to friends only.

His hand rested on her shoulder and she leaned into the reassuring contact. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“You didn’t look fine at dinner. You looked like your whole world was crashing in around you.”

Grace forced a smile and finally turned to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with concern as his hand slid from her shoulder down to grip her fingers.

She pulled her hand away, attempting a laugh. “When did you get so dramatic, Mike? Worlds crashing around. As if.”

“If you weren’t upset, then what are you doing out here in the dark?”

“I didn’t want to intrude. I should just head home.”

A horse whickered softly in the moonshine. Mike turned his head toward the sound, smiling a little. “You shouldn’t worry about intruding. I’m living here. You can’t get much more in the way than that.”

“It’s only temporary.”

“Yes, it is. I’m looking forward to having my own place.”

Grace studied him, glad that the topic of conversation had been diverted away from her. He’d spent so many years without roots. Other than Maggie, his cousin-turned-foster parent, he’d never had a home. It just hadn’t been his way. A home had always seemed to represent a commitment he didn’t want to make.

“It seems funny, thinking of you with your own house, tied to a business. You’ve never been that type of guy.”

His gray eyes penetrated hers. “I wasn’t. Not for a long time. Things change.”

“What things?” She tilted her head curiously.

“It didn’t make sense to roam around without a purpose, looking for something yet not knowing what it was. I found myself wanting to settle, find a place for me. Build a business. Make a home, maybe even have a family.”

And just like that, her world dropped out from under her. It was like her bones had suddenly turned to jelly and everything got too heavy to move. He watched her quietly, his strong body between her and the house.

She had to escape.

Mike and a house and a family. Words she never thought she’d ever hear from his lips.

Why had it taken him so long to figure it out? If only he hadn’t taken a decade, things might have been different after all. A whole can of “what if’s” was opened, the contents spilled out.

After the long, emotional day she’d had it was too much. Her eyes burned with tears she tried desperately to hold inside and her mouth twisted. She chewed on her lip to keep it from quivering.

“I’ve gotta go,” she choked out, pushing past him and making a run for her car. She wrenched open the door and got in, turned the key to the ignition.

Just her luck. The one thing Mike was looking for now was the very thing she’d never be able to give him.