“It’s beautiful,” she said as they stepped down from the pickup truck.
His glance at her was full of doubt. “You really think so?”
“Of course,” she said with a puzzled smile. “Don’t you?”
He shrugged, then motioned for her to follow him to the front door. “I suppose. When I first bought the place several years ago, I had high hopes for it. But now...well, I guess it still needs a little more work.”
They stepped through the front door and into a small foyer. Immediately, the smell of sawdust and paint stripper filled her nostrils, and from somewhere in the back of the house a power saw buzzed loudly.
In the living room, Adam guided her around a stack of drywall and several buckets of paint, then down a long hallway. As Maureen followed him, she could see the house was very roomy and had obviously been in excellent condition before the carpenters had started their work.
Two men were busy in the kitchen. One was at work removing varnish from knotty-pine cabinets Maureen would have loved to have in her own house.
As soon as the carpenters spotted the visitors, they descended on Adam and immediately began to discuss the progress of the renovations. Maureen made herself scarce and wandered back through the other parts of the house.
She looked over every room, then returned to the living area and lingered there for several minutes while Adam continued his discussion with the carpenters. Eventually, she gave up on him and slipped out a sliding glass door and onto a low patio built of redwood planks.
Unlike the place Maureen had bought, Adam’s house sat in a clearing at the base of a mountain. The land was more open and arid here. Rather than spruce and tall pine, the trees were mostly piñon, scrubby cottonwood and poplar. Clumps of yucca and cholla grew with wild abandon right up to the patio floor.
She took a seat at a wooden picnic table shaded by a cottonwood. A barbecue pit built of red brick stood a few feet away, and she wondered how often Adam entertained guests here. Or more important, if a woman had ever lived here with him. In spite of its beauty, there was a lonely, primitive feel about the place. She couldn’t picture him living in this isolated spot alone and liking it. But then she didn’t really know the man. Not the way she wanted to know him.
“There you are.”
She glanced around to see him stepping out the glass door and onto the patio. “I decided to look around outside,” she told him. “It’s very pretty. I get the feeling I’m sitting right in the middle of the desert.”
He groaned inwardly at the charming picture she made there in the dappled shade with the south wind whipping her loose brown hair and molding her clothes against the curves of her body. Since the night in the pool, he hadn’t kissed her, but the memory was constantly urging him to. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could fight it.
Trying to shake away the thought, he walked over to where she sat. “People who aren’t from these parts are amazed at how quickly the landscape around here changes from forested mountains to desert.”
Expecting he was ready to go, Maureen rose to her feet. “Speaking of changes,” she said, “I don’t understand what you’re doing to your house.”
His brows lifted. “What do you mean? I’m renovating it.”
She frowned at him. “I understand that much. But why? From what I can see, the inside of the house was beautiful before you ever started. And those kitchen cabinets—you’re going to ruin them if you don’t leave them as they are.”
He jammed his hands into his trouser pockets. Mostly to keep from touching her. “That’s your opinion.”
Her lips pressed together at his curt response. “Well, I know you didn’t ask for it. I just can’t figure out what you’re trying to do with the place.”
He looked away from her and thoughtfully back at the house. “I’ve lived here for six years and I like the place. But when I walk through the front door, it still doesn’t quite have that feeling of home to it. Do you know what I mean?”
Maureen knew all too well what he meant. She’d been searching for the same place, but in the back of her mind, she was wise enough to know she would more than likely never find it. When her baby daughter had died, her home had died with her.
“Adam, I think...” She stopped with a shake of her head.
A frown marred his face as he glanced back at her. “Go on,” he urged. “I told you last night I’d rather you speak your mind with me.”
“I’m not so sure you knew what you’d be getting into when you said that. But all right. I think you need to understand that rooms or the shape and color of them do not make a home.”
He cocked an arrogant brow at her. “Is that so?”
She nodded.
He slowly folded his arms across his chest. “Well, in my opinion, if a house looks like a home, it will feel like one.”
Her short laugh mocked his words. “And how do you make a house look like a home?”
With a grimace, he turned and walked over to the edge of the patio and gazed at the western horizon. The sun was sinking behind a ridge of low, rolling mountains and the heat of the day was following it. Adam wished his thoughts of Maureen would also cool with the setting sun.
“You really don’t want to hear this,” he said.
She went over to him and he gave her a sidelong glance. “Yes, I do want to hear it,” she told him. “I’m very interested to hear about these marvelous decorating skills. I might want to use them on my new house after I move in.”
That she was mocking him was obvious to Adam, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. Where Maureen was concerned he wasn’t sure about anything. Except that he wanted her with an appetite that was far from healthy.
“What is this, anyway?” he asked with an annoyed frown. “If you think I’m wrecking the house, just tell me.”
She sighed. He was getting defensive and she shouldn’t have said anything. After all, what he did with this place was none of her business. “I don’t necessarily think you’re ruining your house. I just believe you’re deluding yourself.”
“Oh, so now I’m delusional,” he muttered, his green eyes rolling toward the sky. “When I tell you to speak your mind, you don’t hold anything back, do you?”
“Not much,” she agreed.
“Okay. Since you seem to be so smug and all-knowing about this, why don’t you give me a hint and tell me what you think my house needs. Selling?”
She frowned at him and shook her head. “No. It’s a perfectly lovely place. Or it would be if you’d have those carpenters put it back together and get the heck out of there. Because the only way you can make your house look like a home is to fill it with a wife and children.”
Adam looked at her as if she’d just instructed him to shoot himself. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
She shook her head again. “I’m very serious. You could knock out walls, build more cabinets, change the wallpaper, but none of those things would make any difference. They’re not going to make it feel any more like home to you than it does now.”
His eyes narrowed and his jaw turned to rock. After a moment, he said, “You have some nerve telling me this, Maureen. You’re divorced and from what you’ve told me you don’t want to be married.”
“That’s true,” she conceded. “But that’s all about me. Not about you.”
He snorted. “Well, there’s no way in hell I’m going to marry and have kids. No way!”
The fierceness in his voice took Maureen aback. It was one thing to believe marriage wasn’t his cup of tea, but he was roaring like an angry lion.
“Why?” she dared to ask.
His features turned even harder. “I told you last night, Maureen. Why I haven’t married is none of your business! I don’t know why you keep bringing it up!”
Maureen didn’t know, either. Nor did she understand why it hurt to have him shut her out this way. But it did. The sting of rejection burned through her body.
“I had the stupid notion you might—” Sh
e broke off abruptly and turned away from him.
“Go ahead and finish!” he barked. “Hellfire, you’ve already said plenty. You might as well add a little more to your sage advice.”
She stared at him for several long, pointed moments. Then finally she said, “If you’re quite finished making an ass of yourself, I’m ready to go.”
Something about the quietness of her voice brought him up short, and as the anger clouding his vision cleared, he could see Maureen’s expression was completely closed off to him.
Heaving out a breath, Adam turned his back to her and raked a hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He didn’t even know why he’d let her suggestion get to him. Plenty of friends and family had told him he needed to get married. He’d let their remarks roll off his back like water on a duck’s feathers.
But hell, he silently cursed, Maureen shouldn’t have been digging. She didn’t need to know he’d once wanted a wife and children or that he’d planned to have one of those real homes she’d been talking about. She didn’t need to know all his hopes and dreams had died along with his fiancée. He didn’t share that pain in his heart with anyone. Not even his family.
“Maureen, I...” Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he turned back around only to find he was standing alone and Maureen was nowhere in sight.
He found her waiting in the pickup. She said nothing when he slid behind the wheel and started the engine, but as he headed down the dusty road away from the house, she turned her head and looked at him.
“By the way, I didn’t divorce my husband. He left me.”
Adam glanced over at her wounded face and knew there was nothing he could say now. He’d already said too much.
Chapter Six
“I told the tool pusher you’d be out at the rig Wednesday morning. By nine at the least. That won’t be a problem, will it?”
While his father spoke, Adam’s gaze remained on the picture window to the left of his desk. The sky had grown dark in the past hour and now lightning sizzled over the distant mountains. But his mind wasn’t on the weather. It really wasn’t on anything except Maureen.
“No problem.”
“Good. Because you’re to meet with the mud people in Bloomfield for lunch. And when you do, I want you to be sure and get it across to them that we don’t intend to be robbed. We’ll call a company out of Farmington if we have to.”
“Fine.”
Wyatt walked over to the window and deliberately put himself in front of Adam’s vacant stare. “Are you with me on this, Adam, or should I make the trip myself?”
Adam drew a hand over his face and jerked his feet down from the corner of the desk. “Of course I’m with you,” he said gruffly. “I’ll be there. And I’ll deal with the mud company.”
Wyatt studied his son for long, silent moments. “Are you all right?”
Adam’s gaze flew to his father. “Why, yes,” he snapped. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t know. Why shouldn’t you? It’s not like you’ve been swamped with work the past couple of days. You’ve had a little leisure time. And you said the carpenters were making headway with your house.”
Since his and Maureen’s visit to the house two days ago, he’d told the carpenters to put everything back as best they could and be on their way. Fortunately, he’d been paying them by the hour so there’d been no dispute about a written contract.
“Yeah. They should have things finished in a couple of weeks,” he said.
“Two weeks! Those men couldn’t possibly do what you’ve planned in that length of time.”
Adam shook his head and rose to his feet. “I’ve decided to scrap most of the changes.”
Wyatt’s brows lifted skeptically. “Really? What brought this about?”
Adam shrugged and headed for the coffeepot. The glass carafe held an inch of tarry black liquid. Deciding he didn’t want anything to drink after all, he shoved the pot back onto the warmer.
“Oh, I got to thinking the house is fine like it is. Besides, it’s time I got back home and out of your and Mom’s hair.”
Wyatt dismissed his excuse with a short laugh. “We rarely see you at the Bar M. You couldn’t be bothering us. But if Maureen’s presence there is annoying you, then you might be glad to know she’s going to be moving into her own house in the next day or two.”
Adam’s head jerked around toward his father. “Moving! Who said?”
“She did. She hasn’t mentioned it to you?”
Since their stopover at Adam’s the other evening, Maureen hadn’t mentioned much at all to him. The past two days he’d invited her to ride into work with him, but both times she’d refused with the excuse that she had errands to run in town. He’d put a wall between them that he didn’t know how to break down and he was beginning to wonder if Maureen had been right after all when she’d said they could never be friends.
“No. She hasn’t mentioned it,” he said with as much indifference as he could manage. “But it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other when she moves.” Wyatt suddenly chuckled and the sound grated on Adam’s raw nerves. “Something funny about that?”
“No. I’m just laughing because you’re such a terrible liar.”
Adam’s expression turned wary. It wasn’t like his dad to tease him about a woman. In fact, Wyatt rarely made mention of any of the women he’d dated in the past. Why should he have the notion Maureen might be special?
“Maureen is no different to me than the secretary sitting in the next room.” Adam assured him.
Wyatt let out another chuckle, which annoyed Adam even more. “Then I guess it wouldn’t bother you any if she started seeing someone on a regular basis?”
Regular basis! Hell, it would bother him on a onetime basis, Adam thought. But she wouldn’t date, he silently argued with himself. She didn’t want anything to do with a man.
Unless the right one came along, a little voice inside him mocked.
“Maureen isn’t seeing anyone,” Adam said sharply.
“No. But your mother and I were thinking we should introduce her to some of the eligible men around here. The woman is bound to be lonely.”
“Lonely! Hell, she has plenty of work to do.”
Wyatt moved from his spot by the window and headed toward the door. “Chloe and I have plenty of work to keep us busy, too. But we still need each other. And I don’t mean just to talk, either.”
Adam had never heard his father talk exactly this way before and he could only stare at him with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think Maureen would rather do her own choosing?” he asked the older man.
“Of course,” Wyatt answered. “Your mother just wants to give her something to choose from.”
As far as Adam was concerned, his mother needed to quit her infernal matchmaking. And he was about to tell his father that exact thing when the telephone on his desk rang and thankfully put an end to their conversation.
Later that evening when Maureen entered the back gate of the Bar M courtyard, she stepped into what appeared to be some sort of family party. Feeling immediately like an intruder, she stood just inside the gate, trying to decide whether to turn around and head back to her pickup truck or make a dash for the house.
She decided on the latter and was slipping along the edge of the porch, trying not to draw attention to herself, when Chloe came up behind her and grabbed her by the elbow.
“Maureen, I didn’t see you arrive! Don’t run off. Everyone is starting to eat.” She began to tug Maureen from the porch and toward a group of people crowded around a long table.
Maureen quickly began to protest “Chloe, I’m not really dressed for a party. And I can see this is a family affair.”
“Nonsense. None of us is dressed up. Your jeans are fine. And you’re certainly welcome to join our family gathering. We’re just having a little birthday supper for Miguel.”
Maureen glanced around her. From an earlier meeting, she recognized Chloe’s sister
s. Justine and Rose. She’d also met Anna’s husband, Miguel, who was apparently the guest of honor tonight. The remainder of the group she didn’t know. Except for Adam, and he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Yet she knew he had to be here somewhere. She’d just parked by his pickup.
“I’m really not all that hungry, Chloe. But if you insist, I’ll eat.”
“Of course I insist. Just jump in and make a hog of yourself.” She patted Maureen’s arm. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go check on the dessert.”
What Chloe called a little supper was a feast, even in Texas terms. Containers of barbecued ribs, fried chicken, potato salad and coleslaw were heaped from one end of the table to the other.
Someone pushed a paper plate into her hand and made a place for her in the serving line. Maureen filled the plate and carried it and a paper cup of iced tea over to an inconspicuous spot on the ground-level porch.
She’d taken three bites when a blond woman carrying a plate laden with food approached her. As she drew closer, Maureen noticed she appeared to be in her second trimester of pregnancy.
“Hi,” she said warmly. “I’m Emily Dunn. Adam and Anna’s cousin.”
Maureen smiled at the other woman. “Hello. I’m Maureen. Or did you know that already?”
Emily smiled and nodded as she eased herself down into a lawn chair facing Maureen. “Chloe’s told us about you.”
“About her pestering houseguest, I’m sure.”
“Not at all. She’s sorry you’ll soon be moving out. Chloe loves people. Almost as much as her horses.”
As Emily talked and the two of them began to eat, Maureen’s eyes drifted to the woman’s stomach. “Is this your first child you’re expecting?” Maureen asked more out of politeness than anything else. Pregnant women bothered her. She didn’t want to be reminded of the joy she felt when she’d carried her own daughter inside her womb. Or the terrible grief when she’d lost her.
“No. I have a two-year-old son, Harlan Cooper. He’s back there somewhere with his daddy.” She smiled at Maureen. “Chloe says you’re from Houston. How do you like it here in New Mexico?”
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