Free The Alpha's Mate by Jacqueline Rhoades

others quickly
hushed her.
    “George is here,” GW informed them though how
he knew was a mystery to Elizabeth. She couldn’t hear anything but
the wind.
    She’d no sooner completed the thought than
she heard the truck. Big and burly, George looked like he could
hold a car up with one hand while he changed the tire with the
other. Elizabeth recognized him as one of the men who’d led the
horses out of the burning barn. Gwenna ran ahead to meet him as he
climbed down from the cab.
    She greeted him by jumping into his arms and
giggled girlishly when he whispered something in her ear.
    “They’re well mated,” Max laughed. “They’ve
been married for five years and still act like newlyweds.” Then her
smile faded. “The only thing that could make them happier would be
a child.”
    “No luck?” Elizabeth asked sympathetically.
It seemed a shame such a loving couple should be denied.
    “No luck for any of us.” Max pressed her lips
together and took a deep breath. “No child has been born on this
mountain for six years.” She ran with the others to help unload the
truck.
    Elizabeth wanted to ask why, but infertility
was such a private matter and obviously a painful one. These women
were all so open and friendly. Still, they didn’t know her well
enough to call her friend.
    The truck was loaded with more than her
belongings. The two tall and comfortable looking wingback chairs
would be perfect before the fire and the dinette set with four
matching chairs and a lovely corner cabinet would fit perfectly in
the corner by the kitchen. Her metal framed computer desk-in-a-box
looked incongruous against the antiques, but when blocked off from
the rest of the room by two glass fronted bookcases, it formed a
nice little office in one corner of the living area.
    She was most excited to see the bed. She’d
only been camping once in her life, from which she returned sore
and covered with poison ivy. The thought of sleeping on the floor
held no nostalgic appeal.
    It wasn’t until it was set up with the
headboard in place that she realized she was already familiar with
its comfort. It was the bed she’d slept in at Marshall’s and it
made her wonder if all these lovely things came from his home. She
was glad he held no grudge for the way she’d treated him last
night.
    With the living area walls painted a soft
buttery yellow and the furniture in place throughout the room, the
Home Place lost its dismal look and began to look like, well, a
home.
    There was still work to be done. The bedroom
needed a second coat and kitchen painting hadn’t been started. The
men would take care of the porches and she’d chosen a rosy red for
the doors and the shutters GW unearthed beneath the porch.
    The others had gone home with promises to
return in the morning and after she’d finished the leftovers from
lunch, Elizabeth decided a shower was in order.
    “I’m the only thing left to be washed.”
     

 
     
     
    Chapter
8
     
    No matter how late it was, no matter how
tired you were, sleeping alone in a new place in the middle of the
woods with no comforting normal house sounds and no curtains at the
windows wasn’t easy. Sure, she’d slept alone in her apartment, but
there were fifty-seven other tenants sleeping under that industrial
roof and she always had the comfort of knowing that if she
screamed, Mrs. Bee across the hall, who never slept and opened her
door at the slightest noise, would certainly hear her and call
911.
    Elizabeth lay in bed staring at the
ceiling.
    “Who would hear me scream out here?” she
asked the hole in the ceiling where a light bulb was supposed to
be. “Who would dial 911? Oh, wait a minute, there is no 911, only
Harmony, who’ll call everyone with the news before she calls the
cops.” She sighed and shrugged. “Oh well, at least she’s there if I
need her.”
    “Oh yeah? And what will you call Harmony
with, Ms. Smar T. Pants? There’s no phone in this cabin and your
cell phone wouldn’t work