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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.
CHAPTER THREE
GRACE DRAGGED HERSELF out of bed. With a stroke of impeccable timing, she’d caught an early fall cold and it had completely knocked her out. Her head felt like a giant boulder sitting atop her neck, which might have been all right if only she could have breathed. But no, her nose was plugged, her throat was sore, and the only thing she wanted was to stay in bed and hide under the covers. Which was a crying shame, because outside everything was gilded and warm. The leaves were changing, her asters were blooming and bees hummed lazily in the mellow autumn sunshine.
With the teakettle on, she suddenly realized that tomorrow was payday at Circle M. Alex was confined to bed; it was up to Grace to make sure the checks got written. She sat at the table, resting her plugged head on her hands. No way was she heading out to the ranch. The last thing Alex—or Maren—needed was for her to pass on her cold.
Maybe someone from Circle M could drop off the paperwork and checkbook, she thought, getting up to pour the boiling water in her mug. Inspired, she picked up the phone and made the necessary call. After hanging up, she took the bag from her cup and added a squirt of lemon juice and a teaspoon of honey. Perhaps after her cup of tea she’d run a hot bath and try to steam away the congestion. And then maybe, just maybe, she’d feel human again.
Mike pulled into the driveway, grabbed the files from the passenger seat and hopped out of the truck. He skirted around the hood, heading for the back door, where there was a porch filled with natural light and plants and where he knew she liked to sit with a book, letting the breeze blow through the windows. He’d just drop off the ledger and checkbook, make sure she was okay and be on his way. Lord knew there was no shortage of work at Circle M lately. At least Connor was back, now that Alex was out of hospital.
It seemed to take Grace a long time to answer his knock, and when she did it took all he had not to gape.
She was dressed in snug jeans and a silky blue top that made his mouth water. He swallowed. The soft fabric dipped to a vee in the front, triangling the shape of her breasts, then flowing in folds to her waist. The sleeves clung to her upper arms, draping away gracefully past her elbows. It was a combination of innocent and sexy and for a brief moment he envisioned himself sliding his fingers over her soft shoulders while he kissed the daylights out of her.
The towel wrapped turban-style around her head might have made that difficult, however.
“I’m interrupting.”
“It’s okay.” The words came out “it-th okay;” the steamy bath hadn’t relieved all of her congestion. She sniffled, tried again. “Come on in.”
Mike followed her in, still holding the materials she’d need to do payroll, his customary hat still shielding his eyes.
“Thank you, Mike, for delivering the books.”
“Your cold sounds bad.” When Johanna had told him that Grace was sick, his first thought hadn’t been about working with the horses, or helping with the construction of his house. Instead he’d volunteered to be a delivery boy. He’d thought he could make sure she was all right after her outburst the other night. He wanted to take care of her. There was something about Grace that inspired that urge to protect, even though he knew she deserved better.
“I tried tea and honey and I took a decongestant, but it hasn’t kicked in yet,” she explained, leaning back against the kitchen counter.
“Yes, well, you can drop off the checks when they’re done then. Payday is tomorrow, but the guys’ll understand if you’re a little late. You deserve a day in bed.”
Grace looked up into Mike’s eyes and he noticed how flushed and pretty she looked. The thought of her in bed didn’t help his current mental state, either.
“I’ll have them there on time, you know that.”
“It’s okay. You need to rest,” he insisted.
“Someone make you a doctor all of a sudden?” She drew away from the counter, crossing her arms in front of her.
His chin drew back at the sharp edge of her tone. “You’re sick. It happens to everyone.”
“Exactly. And the world doesn’t stop just because someone has the sniffles. I said I’d have them done and I will. Besides, I have other work besides Circle M. I don’t want to get behind.”
“Work, work. That’s all you ever do!” The words burst out of his mouth before he could stop them. Why was she being so stubborn? All he was trying to do was cut her some slack, and she wouldn’t have any of it.
Grace put her hands on her hips as the towel slipped sideways on her head. Here we go again, she thought. Yes, she worked a lot, but it wasn’t as though she had a family at home to look after. It was just her, and more than that, it was her time to do with what she wished. She’d bought this house all on her own after the divorce, and without a regular nine-to-five job, sometimes making the mortgage payment was difficult. Not to mention repairs and the fact that she tried to make it look like a home…And all that cost money. Instead she had to deal with Mike today, coming in and bossing her around. Why he felt it was his right to treat her like the girl who used to tag after him, she had no idea.
“Yes, I work a lot. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have an overflowing social calendar and like the rest of the world I have bills to pay!”
She spun away, angry with herself for letting Mike provoke her. The towel slipped all the way off and she caught it while strands of dark blond hair straggled down her back. With her free hand she pushed them back out of her face.
He studied her for a long moment before speaking.
“You having money troubles, Grace?” He said it quietly. Not criticizing. The way Mike, her old friend would have. His obvious caring was comforting in a way.
But seeing Mike lately was only making her more confused. She cared about him; always had. Yet he’d broken a bit of that trust, and she couldn’t forget it.
“No…I’m not,” she sighed. “But my cup doesn’t runneth over, either.”
“Let me help.”
She looked up into his eyes, faltering for a moment at the genuine concern she saw there. But no, it wasn’t Mike’s problem, and she’d learned long ago that she could only depend on herself. She squared her shoulders.
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I like working, Mike.”
“Aren’t I allowed to be concerned about you?”
She sniffled once more and tucked her untidy hair behind her ears. “I’m not twelve anymore, Mike, and you don’t need to keep the playground bullies in line.” She swallowed, struggling to keep her voice cool and even.
He laughed, lightening the mood a little. “Seems to me there was a time that you kept the bullies in line for me.”
She flushed, wishing he’d just forget about that. Even as a child, she’d stood up for him when others didn’t. She knew now how silly it must have looked, a little squirt of a thing taking up for a boy much older than she’d been.
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine. You must have work to do today. I’ll bring the checks over when they’re done.”
She didn’t wait for him to leave, but took the books from the table and went into the living room. When the back screen clicked quietly, she let out a long breath.
Mike gave Thunder’s chestnut hide a final, affectionate slap and left the stall, shutting the half door behind him. He’d bought Thunder and Lightning together as colts, the first horses he’d owned. They’d been named by the previous owner’s young son, and while Mike thought of changing their names to something less clichéd, one look at the boy’s crestfallen face had sealed the deal. When he’d loaded them into the trailer, he’d promised that he’d keep the names that the youngster had given them. And he’d kept that promise.
Lightning was out in the corral. Thunder was inside today, waiting for the farrier. The last thing Mike needed now was a lame animal.
Over the years his path had crossed with Grace’s, and during those times he’d always looked out for her, whether she knew it or not. He’d been off on the circuit when she’d met her husband, and when he’d come back she was already gone…married at nineteen and living in Edmonton. He couldn’t change that. He had been the one to leave, after all.
Over the years he’d passed through town occasionally and it struck him that she’d been so sad when she’d moved into the tiny bungalow all alone. He saw glimpses of that sadness still. It made him want to bundle her in his arms and make it better. He wanted Grace for himself. In every way, no matter how much she deserved better. For a long time he’d despaired of it ever happening, thinking he’d squandered his chance. But now…now he was back for good and he knew if he bided his time, did things right…there was hope.
He strode down the length of the barn, his boots echoing on the concrete floor. Reaching the door, he saw her car come creeping up the driveway. She was true to her word no matter how sick she was. The paychecks would be handed out on time. His face darkened with a scowl.
He should walk away, let her deliver her things to the office and leave again. Instead he left the barn door open and strode toward the house.
This time Grace heard him open the front door. She’d been listening for it, to be honest, and had chosen to stay in the kitchen rather than the intimate, closed space of the study. She didn’t plan to be there long; she didn’t want to spread her germs to either Alex or Maren. Mike had been such a hardheaded idiot at the house earlier, she frowned. She had to keep her cool. The last thing she wanted was yet another spat with him. It seemed to be all they did lately, and she didn’t quite understand why.
