The Measure of a Man. Marie Ferrarella

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The Measure of a Man - Marie Ferrarella Mills & Boon Vintage Cherish

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she couldn’t help wondering if he remembered her. But the brown eyes that she recalled as being so vivid had appeared almost dead as they’d turned to look at her. Like two blinds pulled down, barring access to a view she’d once believed was there. There was no recognition to be found when he looked at her.

      Or through her, which was how it had felt.

      Still, because of the incident in his past, because of the shame that was attached to it, she was never comfortable around Smith. Because she knew about it, it was as if she’d been privy to some dirty, little, dark secret of his. She found pretending not to know him the easier way to go.

      She cleared her throat as he stood beside the ladder, looking at her. “Are you all right?”

      He half shrugged at the question. “Yeah, thanks to your quick hands.”

      Something shivered through her as he said that, although she had no idea why. A smattering of those old feelings she’d once secretly harbored about him struggled to the surface.

      Jane pushed them back. She wasn’t that girl anymore. Wasn’t a girl at all, really. A great deal of time had gone by since then and she’d discovered that the world was really a hard, cold, disagreeable place. If it wasn’t, then people like the professor could go on about their chosen professions, professions they loved, until they ceased to draw breath.

      And if the world wasn’t such a disagreeable place, she wouldn’t have made such an awful mistake, wouldn’t have allowed herself to fall so hard for a student two years ahead of her. Wouldn’t have impulsively married him instead of thinking things through.

      She shrugged, that same awkward feeling she always felt around Smith returning to claim her. “I’ve got a five-year-old.”

      Smith looked at her blankly as he moved the ladder a good foot away from the path of the door. He hadn’t really been around any kids since he’d been one himself. The explanation she’d given him created no impression in its wake.

      “I don’t follow.”

      She smiled. No, she didn’t suppose he did. She’d nosed around a little and discovered that Smith was very much alone these days. No children, no wife, no attachments whatsoever. The world she lived in, even without the constant demand of bills that needed paying, was probably foreign to him.

      “Danny is a little hyper.” She considered her words, then amended them. “Actually, he’s a lot hyper.”

      Smith moved his head from side to side slowly. “I still don’t—”

      He really didn’t know anything about kids, did he? “Okay, let me put it to you this way. Danny never really took his first step. He took his first leap—off a coffee table.”

      She remembered how her heart had stopped in the middle of her throat. One minute her son had been crawling on the floor beside the table and she’d looked away for a split second. The very next minute he’d clambered up not only to his feet but to the top of the coffee table where he proceeded to take a fearless half-gainer on wobbly, chubby legs while gleefully laughing.

      “I was just lucky enough to be there to catch him.” She’d all but sprained her ankle getting there in time to keep him from making ignoble contact with the floor. A smile curved her lips as she remembered another incident. All incidents involving Danny fared far better when they were relived than during the original go-round.

      “And last year, during the holiday season, I was walking through a department store with Danny, holding his hand. Which left his other hand free to grab the branch of one of the trees they had just finished putting up. He got hold of a string of lights and if my mother’s radar hadn’t kicked in, the tree would have gone over, flattening another customer.” She’d swung around just in time to right the tree. The shoe department manager, whose area it had been, hadn’t looked very happy about the matter, despite the smile pasted on his lips.

      Smith tried not to notice the way her smile seemed to light up her face. And curl into his system. “Sounds like you have your hands full.”

      And her life, she thought. “Keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure.”

      He knew she worked full time. Did five-year-olds attend school? He’d never had a reason to know before. He hadn’t one now, he reminded himself. This was just conversation and now that he thought of it, he was having it more or less against his will.

      Still, he heard himself asking, “Who watches Danny when you’re here?”

      Kindergarten would be starting for Danny soon. Another hurdle and rite of passage all rolled into one to go through, she mused. But for now, he was still her little boy and she was hanging on to that for as long as possible.

      “Some very exhausted day-care center people.” The cost of which, she added silently, ate huge chunks out of her weekly paycheck. But it was a good day-care center and Danny seemed to be thriving in the environment, which was all that mattered. She couldn’t ask for anything better than that.

      Except, maybe, a father for the boy. But that wasn’t ever going to happen. For Danny to get a father, she would have to start dating again. Have to put herself out there emotionally again. After the mega-disaster that was her marriage, she had come to the conclusion that she and love had nothing in common.

      Unless, of course, she was thinking of love for her son. Or the professor.

      Smith caught himself studying Jane. Minding his own business to a fault, he knew very little about the lives of the people around him. He’d never pictured Jane with a son. Hadn’t really thought of her as married, either. But that was because she still used the same last name she’d had when they were students in English class together. He’d been aware of her from the first day of class. The cute little redhead with the pale green eyes, soft voice and perfect shape. He’d even come close to asking her out. Back then, he’d thought anything was possible.

      But that was before he learned that it wasn’t. Not for him.

      Smith glanced down at her hand and didn’t see a wedding ring. Was she one of those independent women who didn’t care for outward signs of commitment? Or hadn’t acquiring a husband along with a son been part of her plan?

      “Don’t you miss him?” he asked.

      She wondered if Smith had always been this abrupt or if getting caught and then having to leave the university had done this to him. What was he doing here, anyway? If something that traumatic had happened to her, she certainly wouldn’t have come back, asking for a job. She would have starved first.

      Maybe that was what he was faced with, she suddenly thought. Compassion flooded through her. “Miss him?” She didn’t quite understand what he was driving at. “I see Danny every morning and evening.”

      Smith shook his head. His own mother had stayed home to raise him, returning to the work force only after he entered middle school. “No, I meant, wouldn’t you rather stay home and take care of him?”

      A soft smile flirted with the corners of her mouth. “In a perfect world, yes.” And then she laughed shortly. The world was so far from perfect, it was staggering. “But if I stayed home, the cupboard would get bare incredibly fast.”

      “Your husband doesn’t work?”

      Smith had no idea where that question even came

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