Free A Husband for All Seasons by Irene Brand

the coffee table and put them on a bookshelf. She looked into the bedroom and sighed.
    â€œBachelors!” she muttered.
    By the time she had cleaned the apartment to her satisfaction, Vicky and Chad had sorted the contents of one bag into three stacks: first class, junk mail, and questionable.
    â€œI can’t make any decision on what you want tokeep,” Vicky said. “But if you’ll toss me the things you want to dispose of, I can stuff them into this garbage bag we’ve emptied.”
    Mrs. Lashley sat on the couch and watched Vicky and Chad for several minutes. “I’ll be glad to help,” she said.
    â€œYou can help Vicky unload and sort the second bag while I check through this first-class mail,” Chad said. “But I mustn’t impose on your good nature.”
    â€œAssuming that I have a good nature,” she said as she pulled a stool close to where Vicky sat on the floor.
    Noting her twinkling blue eyes, Chad said, “You’re not fooling me, Mrs. Lashley. Beneath that gruff exterior, you’re a lovable teddy bear.”
    â€œHumph! Don’t try my patience, or you’ll find out. And you don’t need to call me Mrs. Lashley. My name is Grace.”
    So Chad had won over Mrs. Lashley as quickly as he had her, Vicky thought as she sorted the mail and Chad and Mrs. Lashley quibbled about nothing in particular. What was there about Chad Reece that made him so personable? Vicky thanked God that his real personality was overcoming the tragedy in his life. But she wondered again if Chad was putting on this carefree front to hide the misery he felt inside. If so, that wasn’t a good thing, and she eyed Chad carefully while they worked. She decided that for the present he’d forgotten about his tragedy.
    After sitting and scooting around on the floor for a few hours, Chad had difficulty standing, and Vicky noticed that he clapped his hand on his back. Was his incision bothering him?
    They had filled two garbage bags with junk mail, which Vicky carried downstairs to the garbage pails. But the living room floor still looked as if a hurricane had struck, leaving paper and debris in its wake.
    â€œI’ve had enough of this for today,” he said. “It will take several days for me to answer these or to decide if I want to answer them. I guess I’ll have to buy, or rent, a laptop computer and a printer.”
    â€œYou surely don’t intend to leave the room in this condition,” Grace said, her eyebrows lifting dramatically.
    â€œYes, I do. I’m not expecting company except the two of you, and since you’ve helped make this mess, no need to hide it from you. I’m hungry. Let’s order a pizza.”
    â€œHumph.” She threw her hands wide in dismay, “Well, you’re paying rent on the apartment. You don’t need to order any pizza for me. I’ll go downstairs and eat my dinner.”
    â€œYou’ll do nothing of the kind,” Chad said. “I insist that you eat with us—that is, if you like pizza.”
    Vicky assumed that Grace had realized that she and Chad weren’t romantically involved or she wouldn’t suggest leaving them alone in the apartment.
    â€œI do like pizza, and I’ll eat with you, but I want to contribute my bit to the meal. I just happened to make an apple pie this morning. We can have that for dessert.”
    â€œThen I’ll order pizza and salads.”
    Vicky looked into the kitchen. “I see you have a coffeemaker. I’ll make a pot of coffee to eat with the pie.”
    Grace was back with the pie by the time the pizza and salad was delivered. They gathered around the kitchen table and Chad prayed a blessing over their food. Everything seemed cozy—like home. As Grace and Vicky discussed news of Columbus, Chad realized why he felt so comfortable. Neither of the women seemed to be treating him differently because he was injured. And that was one