Marriage At Circle M. DONNA ALWARD

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Marriage At Circle M - DONNA  ALWARD

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looked up and saw his eyes were earnest even though his tone was cold, and she nearly backed down. She acknowledged the attraction, but that was where it stopped. Mike didn’t feel anything for her, that much was clear. Men who were interested told you how nice you looked, gave you compliments instead of remarking on the presence of bags beneath your eyes or asking you to balance the books. She’d done the longing gaze thing for far too many years, and it had gotten her nowhere. It hadn’t been enough before. And it wouldn’t get her anywhere in the future, either. Men didn’t want women like her, not once they realized that she was more than the quiet, girl-next-door that they thought she was.

      “Yes, Mike, there is something you can do for me. You can get out of the way and let me do my job.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      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.

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