Free Wishmakers by Dorothy Garlock

for nothing except speaking softly and seeing that she didn't upset her father. There had been Rachel to run the house, Edna to manage the meals, and Justin to see that the bills were paid. There had always been someone to see that life ran smoothly and comfortably. Chip hadn't been too far wrong about her, not that she'd ever admit it to him.
    “How did you get the name Chip?” She longed to be friends with him again. It was too wearing to be at loggerheads. She smiled when the word came to mind; it was very appropriate.
    He glanced at her. “Why are you smiling? It's logical a lumberman would nickname his son Chip. You know the old saying ‘a chip off the old block’? I used to follow my dad around the logging camps; the name came naturally.”
    “I wasn't smiling because of your name. I'd about figured that out for myself. I was thinking it's much nicer to be friends than to be at loggerheads. I don't know where I got that word from unless I heard my father use it.”
    “As you might have guessed, the term is a common one here for describing a disagreement. But it's also used in marine biology. A loggerhead is a very large carnivorous turtle.”
    “Are you interested in marine biology?”
    “Only mildly. I'm too wrapped up in the lumber business and a few other projects I have going to branch out with another interest.”
    “It must be a very satisfying life,” she said quietly.
    “It has its moments—and its drawbacks—just like everything else.” The road was steep and winding, and Chip concentrated on driving and didn't speak until it straightened out again. “What do you plan to do when you return to Chicago?”
    “I haven't decided. I'm trying my wings, you know.” She hadn't meant the sad note to creep into her voice, but it had.
    “Yes, I know. Just be careful and don't get your wings scorched, little butterfly.” His grin was so charming she could do nothing but smile back at him.
    As they approached Aaronville she slipped the diamondstudded watch and the earrings into her handbag. There had been an imperceptible change in her thinking since she'd met this man.

CHAPTER FIVE
    T HE DUST-COVERED ROAD to Aaronville seemed infinitely shorter than it had the previous day when she'd driven over it with Tom MacMadden. Still, it was full of hills and curves, and Margaret was relieved when it finally began to flatten out into the valley and she could see the town stretched ahead. Houses were scattered at intervals on both sides of the road, each with its own neat garden displaying orange pumpkins amid the drying vines, huge stacks of firewood, and wood smoke curling from cobblestone chimneys.
    Chip turned the car down a side street before they reached the business district, traveled down what appeared to be a little-used road, and swung into an alley behind a store. He parked the car in an area reserved for loading and cut the motor.
    “We can go in the back door and get you fixed up with some clothes that won't make you look quite so conspicuous.” He looked at her as if expecting an argument, and his expression told her he was ready to overrule any protest she might make.
    She acquiesced. “Okay. This is your territory, so we'll play it your way.”
    “Good girl. C'mon.” He smiled with his eyes as well as his mouth. There was charm in his face again, and Margaret felt herself responding to it.
    The back of the building was dark and piled from floor to ceiling with cardboard boxes. Chip reached for Margaret's hand and led her through the stack of merchandise. As they came in out of the direct sunlight the room seemed incredibly dark to Margaret, and she followed closely along behind Chip. She hooked her toe on a box and stumbled. His grip on her hand tightened.
    “Hold it! Am I going too fast?” He turned and slipped his hand through her arm, gripping her waist.
    “I'm as blind as a bat in the dark,” Margaret murmured.
    “I'll have to remember that.” His soft laughter made her laugh back,