Free Country Brides by Debbie Macomber Page B

exit.
    â€œWhere’s Skip?” she asked a little breathlessly. Heat seemed to throb between them and she retreated a step in a futile effort to escape.
    â€œHe went upstairs.”
    She blinked and faked a yawn. “I was headed in that direction myself.”
    Clay buried one hand in his jeans pocket. “Do you know what happened tonight at dinner?”
    Not finding her voice, Rorie shook her head.
    â€œI was jealous,” he said from between clenched teeth. “You were laughing and joking with Skip and I wanted it to be me your eyes were shining for. Me. No one else.” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “Jealous of a seventeen-year-old boy…I can’t believe it myself.”

Seven
    R orie decided to wear a dress for her outing with Kate Logan. Although she rose early, both Skip and Clay had eaten breakfast and left the house by the time she came downstairs. Which was just as well, Rorie thought.
    Mary stood at the stove, frying chunks of beef for a luncheon stew. “I spoke to Clay about your cooking dinner later this week. He says that’ll be fine if you’re still around, but the way he sees it, you’ll be on your way in a day or two.”
    Rorie poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’ll be happy to do it if I’m here. Otherwise, I’m sure Kate Logan would be more than pleased.”
    Mary turned to face her, mouth open as if to comment. Instead her eyes widened in appreciation. “My, my, you look pretty enough to hog-tie a man’s heart.”
    â€œThank you, Mary,” Rorie answered, grinning.
    â€œI suppose you got yourself a sweetheart back there in San Francisco?” she asked, watching her closely. “A pretty girl like you is bound to attract plenty of men.”
    Rorie paused to think about her answer. She briefly considered mentioning Dan, but decided against it. She’d planned this separation to gain a perspective on their relationship. And within hours of arriving at Elk Run, Rorie had found her answer. Dan would always be a special friend—but nothing more.
    â€œThe question shouldn’t require a week’s thought,” Mary grumbled, stirring the large pot of simmering beef.
    â€œSorry…I was mulling something over.”
    â€œThen there is someone?”
    She shook her head. “No.”
    The answer didn’t seem to please Mary, because she frowned. “When did you say that fancy car of yours was going to be fixed?”
    The abrupt question caught Rorie by surprise. Mary was openly concerned about the attraction between her and Clay. The housekeeper, who probably knew Clay as well as anyone did, clearly wasn’t blind to what had been happening—and just as clearly didn’t like it.
    â€œThe mechanic in Riversdale said it should be finished the day after tomorrow if all goes well.”
    â€œGood!” Mary proclaimed with a fierce nod, then turned back to her stew.
    Rorie couldn’t help smiling at the older woman’s astuteness. Mary was telling her that the sooner she was off Elk Run the better for everyone concerned. Rorie had to agree.
    Kate Logan arrived promptly at ten. She wore tight-fitting jeans, red checkered western shirt and a white silk scarf knotted at her throat. Her long honey-colored hair was woven into thick braids that fell over her shoulders. At first glance, Kate looked closer to sixteen than the twenty-four Rorie knew her to be.
    Kate greeted her with a warm smile. “Rorie, there wasn’t any need to wear something so nice. I should’ve told you to dress casually.”
    Rorie’s shoulders slumped. “I brought along more dresses than jeans. Am I overdressed? I could change,” she said hesitantly.
    â€œOh, no, you look lovely…” But for the first time, Kate seemed worried. The doubt that played across her features would have been amusing if Rorie hadn’t already been suffering from such a potent bout of