I just leave you?” Ellen asked, a teasing note in her voice.
“That you did,” Meg responded.
“So, what’s up?”
“Want to come to dinner? Before I left for church, I put a roast and all the fixings in the Crock-Pot. I should’ve asked sooner, but I forgot.”
“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really hungry.”
“Okay.” Meg paused. “By the way, thought any more about Porter?”
“No, dammit, I haven’t. There’s nothing to think about.”
“Hey, don’t jump on me. I was just hoping.”
“Well, hope in another direction. Like I told you, it ain’t gonna happen.”
“You’re making a big mistake.”
“Well, it’s not the first one, and it sure as hell won’t be the last one, either.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You’re hard-headed.”
“I guess that makes us sorta even.”
“So I’ll talk to you later, Meggy dear.”
With that, Ellen placed the receiver back on the hook, though she continued to stare at it. One thing about Meg, she knew which buttons to push. If she could get her hands on her sister, she would strangle her, and cheerfully, too.
Porter Wyman.
She didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t want to think about any man, not in a personal way. Generic thoughts about him and his baby were harmless. But dwelling on the man himself was not a good idea.
Still, Ellen’s mind wouldn’t let go, even though she straightened the house with a vigor she should have reserved for the shop. Come morning, she had a storeroom full of “pretties” to unpack and enter on the computer.
What was there about the rancher turned businessman that had snagged her attention in the first place? Admittedly, he was good-looking in a rugged sort of way, with his dark hair, chocolate eyes and athletic build. But since her divorce, she’d run across several men who fit that mold. She hadn’t given any of them the time of day, much less anything else. She wasn’t going to give Porter anything, either.
Attractive or not, a slow-grinning man who had an infant to raise wasn’t for her. She doubted he ever would be, though she was quick not to classify herself as a cold-hearted career woman.
For now, she was into treating herself well. That was what the shop was all about It was something she had created, something she’d accomplished on her own. Before, during the Samuel years, everything had been done according to his wishes.
He had been a control freak as well as a perfectionist A perfectionist herself, she had thought she and Samuel would be a match made in heaven. She found out quickly just how wrong she’d been. Their union had turned into a match made in hell.
Maybe she would marry again, and maybe she would even have a child, just not anytime soon. The scars left from her two-year marriage were too raw.
Since she didn’t believe in wallowing in self-pity and crying over what might have been, she had picked up the broken pieces of her life and gone on. She was free to go about her life without fear of Samuel’s unwanted presence.
That was the main reason she didn’t want to get involved with another man, especially someone like Porter Wyman. Besides, she didn’t have a clue how to care for a child. No doubt he’d gotten that message today.
Thrusting aside the image of Porter’s lazy grin and gait as he came toward her, Ellen leapt off the couch, grabbed her purse and headed to the door.
The ringing phone stopped her, but only momentarily. “Not this time, Meg,” she said, walking out the door. She was going back to the office to work.
She’d had her fill of her sister and that cowboy for one day.
“Like that, huh?”
Matthew’s laughter rang out as Porter tossed him once again into the air.
“That’s all, son. Daddy has to go to work.”
“Anything special you want me to do today?”
Porter gave his son a smack on the cheek before turning to face his housekeeper and nanny, Bonnie Temple. She was an attractive, dark-haired woman with expressive green eyes.
Although she was forty-five years old, ten years his senior, she didn’t look it. Her build was slight and her hair was minus any gray, or any that he could see, anyway. But then, what did he know about hair color? His ex, Wanda, had changed hers with the seasons.
When Wanda had left him, he’d hired Bonnie immediately; she had come highly recommended. He hadn’t been sorry one day. She was great with Matthew, having reared three children of her own. Because she was a widow, she also had the necessary freedom and flexibility to care for him and Matt.
She was smiling at him now, waiting for his answer.
He smiled back. “Nope, can’t think of a thing, except to take care of my boy here.”
“That goes without saying.”
Porter handed Matthew to her.
“Is steak all right for dinner?” Bonnie asked.
“I might not be home till late, but I’ll let you know.”
Porter noticed the frown that suddenly doused Bonnie’s smile, but he didn’t comment on it. Not only did she love to clean house, but she loved to cook. If he didn’t have so much land and so many cattle to care for, he’d have to watch his waistline.
A few minutes later, Porter climbed into his fancy truck and headed toward the store, knowing he should be in the pasture mending that south fence. He would take care of that tomorrow if Joe, his foreman, didn’t get to it.
With the business and the ranch, there never seemed to be enough hours in the day, especially because he always tried to make time for Matt. That was a must. His son would always come first, no matter what.
His son.
What a perfect thought on a perfect summer day, he told himself, as he swung into his parking slot at the store a short time later.
“Morning.”
Porter climb out of the cab and watched as his friend and manager, George Hays, limped toward him. George was another person he couldn’t imagine doing without. In his late fifties, George had been injured in ’Nam. Even with a badly mangled leg, he was a workhorse. The store was an awesome responsibility, and George handled it and the customers like a pro.
But unlike him, George needed to watch his waistline. In fact, he needed to go on an outright diet, Porter thought, worried that his friend might have a stroke.
