Sweet On Peggy. Stella MacLean. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Stella MacLean
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Superromance
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474047111
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right up.”

      She was waiting for him with a large shovel and a hoe when he got what he needed from his tool locker. It was damned difficult to concentrate on fixing her fence with her standing there. Yet he managed it somehow, finishing everything up and putting things back.

      He was about to head for his truck when two horses came galloping toward him, moving faster the closer they got. “Whoa!” he yelled and jumped back.

      “They won’t hurt you,” she said, laughing as the two horses plowed to a stop in front of her and nudged her hands. “They’re looking for treats. I’ve got some in my pocket.”

      He could have sworn there wasn’t room to put anything inside those jeans other than her body, but sure enough she pulled two carrot chunks out of the left-hand pocket and fed them to the horses. “Have you always liked horses?” he asked, waiting for his pulse to stop playing hopscotch around his chest.

      “I used to ride when I was a kid. My dad would often ride with me. I’ve always loved horses.”

      “Bunnies or small dogs are more my style...Don’t have either at the moment. Not allowed in the apartment building where I live.”

      “Will you get a pet when you buy a house?”

      “Don’t know if I’m buying a house.”

      She gave him an assessing glance. “Does that mean you’re not staying here?”

      “Not sure.”

      He realized once the words were out of his mouth that she wasn’t pleased. She seemed to pull back. Her eyes searched the horizon. Silence stretched between them like an elastic band being pulled to the breaking point.

      Finally she spoke. “How did you decide to come here? I mean, there must have been job opportunities in Bangor.”

      “I came home. Sold my mom’s house and came here.” He shrugged. “Simple as that.”

      “Isn’t that a little impulsive?”

      He shook his head. “It’s just the way I am. I decided to go to Haiti in a matter of days.”

      “Aren’t you afraid that an impulsive decision could lead to problems once you’ve had time to consider what you’ve done?”

      “No. I don’t. I’ve always gone with my gut. For me, the right choice is the one I make the first time around. If I overthink a situation, I begin to doubt myself and end up making the wrong decision.”

      “You mean you always make the easiest choice?”

      This lady, this woman he’d become so infatuated with, didn’t believe in being even the slightest bit reckless or impulsive. “Depends on how you look at it.”

      “And how do you look at it?” she said, her tone casual but the emotion behind it clear. She didn’t approve.

      “Something meant to be...like when we met.”

      She gave him a wry smile. “That wasn’t meant to be. That was Dr. Brandon’s order.”

      “Depends on how you look at it,” he repeated.

      “It was no accident that Dr. Brandon ordered blood work.”

      “But you have to admit that it was an accident that brought me in to see the doctor.”

      “Okay. We can agree on that much at least.” She walked beside him to his truck, turning to face him with her hands tucked into the pockets of those tight jeans of hers that made his pulse do seriously strange things. “You’ve been very kind. Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      “No man has been that kind to me, except my father. I loved him very much.” She rubbed her palms on the sides of her jeans, squinting up at the sky.

      He stopped, surprised by her remark. This woman’s experience with men couldn’t have been all that great if fixing her fence had been such a big deal to her. “Your dad must have been pretty special. My father was the best. I miss him all the time. Mom, too, but it’s different with Dad.”

      “My mother’s still alive, so I don’t know about that.”

      He couldn’t keep his mind from running over the possible reasons why a woman as beautiful as Peggy Anderson had commented on how kindness was not a normal occurrence in her life. “Lucky you.”

      “Not necessarily. I haven’t seen my mom in two years. Not since we had...” She rubbed her hands on her jeans. “You don’t need to hear all this.”

      He reached the door of his truck aware that what he really wanted to do was to stay and learn more about this woman. He settled for taking her hand in his. “I do need to hear, if we’re going to be friends.”

      “Friends?”

      “Did you have more in mind?” he asked, keeping his tone light and noncommittal.

      She shaded her eyes with her hand as she glanced over at the paddock. “I don’t have much of anything in mind,” she said, her voice soft, but her words offering a rebuke.

      “You don’t seem to have much faith in people. Is there a reason?”

      She returned her gaze to him, her expression unreadable. “What would you do if your mother had lied to you all your life?”

      “Whoa! Don’t know. My mom and I were always close. Can’t imagine how that would feel.”

      She turned to face him, a lost look in her eyes. “There are moments I wish I could call my mom, but too much time has passed, too many missed opportunities.”

      He didn’t know what to say to her to ease the naked loneliness capturing her face. He wasn’t good at any of this sort of thing, of facing sadness or sorrow—part of why his experience in Haiti had been so difficult. Or so his therapist had said, back when he was still keeping his appointments with her.

      “Tell you what. Why don’t we talk about what time I should pick you up? We both need a little cheering up, and the fire station fund-raiser sounds like fun.”

      “Sure. I have to feed the horses after work, then get ready. Anytime after that.”

      They agreed on a time, and he couldn’t help wishing that she’d wear the dress she’d worn when they went out to dinner the other night. He left her place, his spirits high, anticipation making him glad he’d decided to stay in Eden Harbor, at least for now.

      The next evening the community center was packed with people by the time they got there. Delighted to hear that Peggy had a date for the fund-raiser, Gayle and Sherri had agreed to hold a table where the three couples could sit together. Peggy glanced around the room, immediately spotting Neill Brandon’s red hair and height above the crowd of people. “There they are,” she said, leaning into Rory so that her words could be heard over the noise of the crowd milling about.

      “I’ll follow you,” he said, placing his hand in the small of her back, his fingers heated points against her cool skin. She wore the dress she’d worn to dinner, a last-minute decision, the result of getting home late because of a patient whose veins were difficult to find. The look in Rory’s eyes when he arrived to pick her up told her she’d made a good choice.

      She had been looking forward to tonight since she woke up this morning; such a relief not to be thinking about her doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Although it would feel really strange to be socializing with Dr. Brandon tonight, when he had news that would either put her mind at ease or change her life. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

      They approached the group at the table together, the expression on each of their faces one of open curiosity. She forced all thoughts of tomorrow from her mind. Tonight she promised to enjoy herself. She introduced Rory. Just as they went to sit down, a woman came up to Rory and thanked him for fixing her mother’s front steps. Peggy couldn’t help but notice that