Free The Circle Eight: Nicholas by Emma Lang Page B

didn’t know. Those shadows would stay hidden.
    It would be a very long night with only the horses and a meowing cat for company. In the morning, he had to be at his best. For her. For him.
    He was afraid if he wasn’t, there was no future. Ever.
     
     
     
    Winnie slammed the coffee pot down onto the stove with a definitive clang! It felt so satisfying she did it again.
    Clang!
    She was annoyed and frustrated. Nicholas had refused to sleep in the same house with her. What did he think she was going to do, seduce him while he slept? While not a bad idea, it was something she wouldn’t appreciate herself, therefore would never consider it. The man was stubborn as the day was long. He made her angry and, at the same time, sad for the tight box he kept himself locked in.
    She should be more patient but her emotions were wound up tighter than the cogs of a clock. Ticking away inside her second by second.
    Her anger wasn’t solely targeted at Nicholas. Her anxiety more about searching for Grace, of starting down a path she had been afraid to follow for ten years. The sad fact was she had no earthly reason not to look for Grace except her own fear. She’d given away her own child. No matter that she was sixteen years old and recovering from childbirth. She should have fought her own helplessness.
    Regrets were useless. They left a bad taste in her mouth. She ought to kick them out of her mind for good. Easier said than done. Her world had been inundated with regrets for so long, she didn’t know how to purge them.
    Nic holas had pushed her, and for that she would be grateful for the rest of her life. She didn’t want to hope too hard they would find her daughter. If they didn’t, or found out something Winnie couldn’t bear to hear, it would break her heart all over again.
    The coffee burbled merrily in the pot and she poured cool water from a pitcher to settle the grounds. As she reached for a cup, a masculine voice sounded from behind her.
    “Ah, can I help with breakfast?” He surprised her at every turn. She’d heard from Elizabeth that her family had grown up with everyone knowing how to do all household chores. An unusual arrangement but one Winnie respected.
    She poured a cup of coffee and turned to hand it to him. His brown hair curled in damp waves at the edges while his freshly shaven jaw gleamed in the sunlight coming through the window over the sink. Heat rushed through her at the sight. The man was handsome as sin.
    “I don’t have much here. I usually have a local farmer who delivers eggs and milk. Plus Consuela cooks when I have boarders. She also makes the bread twice a week for me.” She winced at the meager offering in the larder.
    “I don’t think I could eat anyway.” Nicholas’ s expression was tight with tension, mirrored on her own face, she was sure.
    “Coffee?” She held up a cup.
    “Fine. Then I’ve got to get that rig back to whatever idiot rented it to you.”
    “Old man Sylvester is quite nice. I’m sure he didn’t realize the conveyance needed repair.” Winnie had always rented from him. The elderly livery owner had lost much of his clientele. She felt sorry for him and wanted to be sure he ate and had enough money to survive.
    Nicholas snorted. “Like hell he didn’t know.”
    She scowled at him. “You make judgments too quickly.”
    “And you trust too easily.”
    It was her turn to snort. “Me? I very rarely trust anyone. My circle of trust extends to three people right now.” She couldn’t trust people. Not after all she’d been through in her life. Too many disappointments and pain.
    “I’m not one of them.” His glanced out the window, the sun’s rays highlighting the beautiful blue-green eyes and the pain within them.
    Winnie wanted to lie to him but couldn’t. It wouldn’t e right or fair to him. She had feelings for him but their relationship was too new, too fresh, to consider trusting him. “Not yet.”
    “Yet.” He shook his head. “You trust me