Free Then Came You: A Prequel to The McPhee Clan by Jillian Hart Page A

stomach, growing larger and larger with every breath. Well, when she inherited, she would be in charge of Maebry's contract. The first thing she'd do was to give Maebry her freedom. And then she and Gil could move forward with their relationship.
    The image of that—of Gil taking Maebry by the hand and courting her properly, one day kneeling down to ask her to be his wife, of the happiness they would share, of the family they would have—made tears burn in her eyes. Aumaleigh pushed off the bed, stopped to draw up the quilt over her mother's wasted form and whipped around, pounding across the room.
    The sound of another’s footsteps startled her. She glanced over her shoulder, nearly stumbling when she recognized the town lawyer. Amiable Nate Denby hesitated outside the bedroom door, a bundle of papers tucked in the crook of one arm, a tousled lock of brown hair tumbling over his forehead. In his early thirties, he had kind eyes, spectacles and the kind of bookish-handsomeness that was very nice.
    "Aumaleigh." His smile widened, showing hints of dimples. "Josslyn said to come on up. I have an appointment with your mother."
    "If she's up to it." The decades of unhappiness being her mother's caretaker warred with the love of her mother, as it always did. The daughter in her yearned for a mother's love, as it always would. She glanced at the cadaverous woman on the bed with her chin touching her chest and her eyes closed. Being bathed and freshly dressed had been a strain. Aumaleigh shrugged. "Looks like she's napping. Would you like me to fix you a cup of coffee, maybe warm up a cinnamon roll for you? You can wait downstairs?"
    "I'd like that."
    "Good. I don't think she'll be asleep for long."
    "That's fine. I don't mind waiting a bit." Nate's friendly gaze radiated warmth. She liked his easy going manner, and that relaxed manner reminded her of the man she'd fallen in love with decades ago.
    Although her Gabriel had been a cowboy, strapping and strong. She gasped as the memory stole over her, she could not stop it. In her mind's eye, she saw Gabriel, Stetson tilted to shadow his face, giving light only to his strong, square jaw and whisker stubble. Her fingers tingled, remembering just how it felt to run her fingertips along that iron jaw line.
    Enough, Aumaleigh, she told herself, kneeling to set a fresh piece of wood onto the grate. It tore out her heart to remember, and she had enough heartbreak now to deal with. She suspected the doctor, when he arrived shortly, would have even more bad news for her.
    Sadly, she brushed bark and moss off her hands, watched the fire claim the new chunk of log, and flames snapped and popped, warming the room.
    "Nathaniel Denby?" Mother croaked, opening one eye. "Is that you standing there, about to leave?"
    "Well, I was only going downstairs, Maureen." Nate tossed Aumaleigh a helpless look, patient, as always, with her mother.
    "Well, think again." Mother scowled, as much as her slack face would allow. "Get over here. We have business and it doesn't involve anyone else. Aumaleigh, get your big behind out of here and close the door behind you. Stop dragging your feet."
    Aumaleigh sighed, remembering a time when Mother's hurtful and inaccurate comments had been hard to take as a young girl growing up. She slipped past Nate, offered him a sympathetic look because doing business with Maureen was never easy, stepped into the small hallway and closed the door tight. Hard to explain the jumble of emotions tangled up inside her, although they made it hard to breathe. Her ribs ached as if they were broken.
    Heaven knew love wasn't always easy and families could be complicated. But as time went by and her mother's condition worsened, she'd hoped for some kind of reconciliation. For a chance to repair the hurts of a lifetime and be able to see the good in Mother. To laugh with her, to share with her, to make some kind of a loving bond before it was too late.
    She knew now that was never going to