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Authors: Carol Grace

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BOOK: Mail-Order Millionaire
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He gripped her shoulders tightly and lifted her up on her toes. Her eyes widened. “This is just to say goodbye,” he explained, his voice husky with wanting her. “That’s all.”

“I’m not leaving yet,” she said breathlessly, but she met him halfway. More than halfway. He didn’t have to take the kiss; she gave it to him freely, fiercely, with her fingers curling through his hair, clinging to him as if she didn’t want to leave any more than he wanted her to.

A shaft of desire shot through him that caused him to shake like the balsam fir trees in the wind. She pulled back.

“What’s wrong? Are you having a relapse?” Her eyes were like brown velvet, soft with concern.

He shook his head and backed into the door, taking her with him. “I’m having separation anxiety. I don’t want to let you go.”

“Max,” she said before she lost her nerve. “Have you ever thought of getting married again?”

“Not until now.” He gave her a long, searching look that seemed to penetrate her very soul. Then his eyes shuttered closed like a camera and she could only think that what he saw there didn’t quite measure up.

The roar of the Sno-Cat outside made than look at each other, then away.

“He’s early,” Max muttered. “What’s wrong with that guy? Can’t he get the time straight?” He cupped her face with his hands and looked into her eyes. “What’s going to happen to you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, blinking back the tears that threatened. “And so will you. I realize that now. I see what your life is really like. And I understand how you feel about it. Why you’d never leave.” She reached up and touched his cheek, just barely managing a smile. Then she took her bag, half empty now, and her hat from the coat-rack and skittered toward the door.

Before she could open it, Fred did so from the outside and came into the room with a blast of cold, damp air. “How’re you doing?” he asked Max. “You don’t look so good. Didn’t the lady do her stuff?”

“She did her best, but she didn’t have enough time. We were just getting started. You came too early.”

Fred took off his wool cap. “Sorry about that. But I got to get back. It’s different when you have a baby. I baby-sit. I change diapers.” He gave Max a lopsided grin. “And I make formula. You don’t know what it’s like having a baby around.”

No, and I never will, Max thought. How could I have a dozen? I can’t even have one and have my job, too.

Fred pulled his hat over his ears. “Ready?” he asked.

Miranda nodded and followed Fred down the wet, slick metal steps, holding onto the railing with her gloved hand. Max shouted at her to be careful, but she didn’t hear him. He watched her get into the Sno-Cat next to Fred without a backward glance and he wished he could leave it at that, no backward glances and no regrets. But he couldn’t.

 

Chapter Nine
 

     Miranda met Ariel for lunch the next day at the diner on Main Street. It was Ariel’s first day back at work. Both boys were finally back at school, but Ariel looked as if she’d been dragged through a ringer, with dark circles under her eyes and cheeks as pale as the white flannel sheets on special in the retail outlet.

“I hope Max wasn’t as hard to take care of as Brian and Scott were,” Ariel said, running her hand through the limp strands of her brown hair.

“Not really.” Miranda studied the menu without seeing the words. The thought that she’d never see Max again had hit her hard this morning. Yesterday she’d been too numb to feel much of anything, but today the reality of it all cut deep and sharp. It was hard to give her order, knowing nothing would fit around the lump in her throat, and the waitress stood shifting from one foot to the other until Miranda gave up and ordered the special—meat-loaf sandwich with a cup of pea soup.

Ariel was looking at her, waiting patiently.

“What?” Miranda asked.

“I asked you how Max was when you left and I told you I’ve never been so glad to get back to work. You haven’t heard anything I’ve said, have you?”

“Of course I have. I was just thinking.”

“About Max or me? Don’t bother, I know the answer. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Miranda felt the color rise to her face. Was it that obvious? “How can you say that? Of course I’m not in love with him. Only a masochist would fall in love with a man who’s already in love.”

“Max is in love?”

“With his job.”

“Oh, no, I don’t believe it. Are you sure?”

“I was just up there. I spent a weekend at the weather station. You’ve seen it. You know how beautiful it is. Well, it’s also challenging and changeable and rewarding... and he’ll never leave. Not for his first wife, and not for me or anyone else. So if that’s what you’ve been thinking all this time, you can stop.” Miranda unfolded her napkin in her lap. “I know you mean well, but this is it, I can’t take any more. I like him a lot and he likes me. But I’m not going to see him again. Got it?”

Ariel agreed readily, too readily. Miranda doubted that she’d gotten it or that she’d ever get it. She was determined to get Miranda married off and until she did, she wouldn’t rest. If Max didn’t work out she’d find another taxidermist or a pharmacist or whatever. But she’d never give up. Miranda could tell by the look in her bleary eyes.

The food came and Ariel continued to look at Miranda as if she were trying to decide what to do next.

“Eat your soup,” Miranda advised. “Talk about looking peaked, you’ve got to take care of yourself or you’ll be the next one sick. Can’t you get away from the kids, just you and Rob and go somewhere?”

Ariel picked up her spoon and held it in midair. “I don’t see how we could. I owe everyone in my baby-sitting coop.”

Miranda shrugged. “I’ll take them, if it’s just for a weekend or something.” At the moment she’d do anything to fill the empty hours that lay ahead of her on the weekends.

“That’s sweet of you, but they’ve got soccer games on the weekend, and I work the snack bar.”

“I can work the snack bar. How hard can it be?”

Ariel’s eyes filled with grateful tears. “You mean it... you’d really do that for me?”

“What are sisters for? Especially after all you’ve done for me.

Ariel looked down at her lap. “You mean you’re not mad at me for inviting Max to your party and inflicting him with chicken pox and fixing you up with the taxidermist?”

“Of course not. You were just doing what you thought was best. But don’t do it again, okay? From now on I’m on my own with men. I admit I fell for Max, and maybe I am just a little bit in love with him, but I’m getting over it. It’s going to take a while, that’s all. And in the meantime I’ll baby-sit for you. I’ll till my fields and I’ll get my life back on track. And whenever you feel the urge to play matchmaker, just stifle it, because I’m not in the mood.”

Ariel nodded emphatically. “I understand perfectly. You won’t catch me even mentioning his name. But can I just ask you how he is?”

Miranda took a sip of water. “He’s getting better. His fever is gone and he’s not itching so much.” In her mind she saw his face covered with spots, his hair matted to his forehead, and she felt her chest tighten as if it were too small for her heart.

“And how did the anti-itch cream work?”

“Fine.” The memory of her hand rubbing ointment up and down his back caused her heart to beat in double-time. “And now I’ve got to get back to work. I’m going to spend more time on my job now. I don’t want to sell the farm, but if I have to, I want to have another career to pursue. Maybe I can work my way up to specialty shopper,” she said, forcing a smile.

“Good idea,” Ariel said thoughtfully. “And I’ll talk to Rob about the weekend. If you’re sure you want to go through with it, I mean.”

Miranda assured her that she did and went back to work. Every time the phone rang with a complaint she thought it might be Max just calling to say thanks. But it never was and he didn’t. He understood that she didn’t want to see him again or hear from him. She hadn’t spelled it out, but he’d understood anyway. If only she could be that strong.

Just talking about him over lunch had brought back the chills up her spine. Otherwise her life was back to grim reality. The skies were an endless gray, the farm was falling apart before her eyes and her job was dull and repetitious. She couldn’t help it. She resented every customer who wasn’t Max. And that added up to a lot of customers. Mr. North-wood upped his offer to buy the farm, but she told him no and rented a rototiller to plow the back forty. Only the motor stalled and got stuck in the mud. Maybe it was too early to plow, but she had to do something, so she got out the clippers and set upon the apple trees to prune them. She tumbled out of the first tree from the lowest limb, which hurt her dignity more than anything else.

Gratefully she packed her weekend bag to head for Ariel’s house in town. Maybe there she’d get a clue about what she was supposed to do with the rest of her life. She sure wasn’t getting one where she was.

The kids were waiting with their noses pressed against the front window when she got there. Ariel’s face was bright with anticipation and her brother-in-law’s grip was warm and friendly when he said goodbye. It was nice to feel wanted, she thought as she cooked spaghetti and meatballs for the boys in her sister’s cheerful yellow-and-white kitchen. It was good to be away from the farmhouse, which echoed with memories of Max’s presence—from the couch in front of the fireplace where they had sat in the evenings to the big black old-fashioned stove where he’d cooked her pancakes in the morning. Even feeding the horses reminded her of riding through the mud with Max. Everywhere she looked were memories she couldn’t escape.

Ariel’s house held no memories, and she watched with pleasure as the boys wolfed down their dinner so they could watch the video her sister had rented for them. They went to the family room to watch the movie while Miranda washed the dishes, carefully drying the plates her sister and brother-in-law had received as a wedding present. How easy it was for some people. Ariel and Rob met in high school, got married and had children and lived happily ever after. Others like herself went off to find their fortune and came back empty-handed, but with high hopes. Now those hopes were battered and scarred like her old overnight bag.

And here she was on the crossroads, poised between success and failure, between love and loneliness. It wasn’t that she was afraid to take a chance, to accept a challenge. But how long could she keep it up, alone, on her own, accepting challenges and failing to meet them? What was wrong with her anyway?

The front doorbell rang and Miranda dried her hands and went to answer it. She was expecting Ariel’s friend with the cash box for tomorrow’s snack bar. On her way to the door she ran her hand through her hair and tugged at her oversize natural cotton rag sweater that covered her hips. She pulled the door open but, instead of the friend, it was Max who stood on the doorstep, looking almost as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“Oh, no,” she said.

“Oh, yes,” he countered. “I didn’t know you’d be here, but I should have guessed. I came to go hunting with Rob.”

“Rob? He’s not here. He’s gone to Stowe with Ariel for the weekend.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

Miranda felt her knees weaken beneath her. Max set his duffel bag down and put his hands under her arms, his fingers grazing the fullness of her breasts. For a moment she looked so distraught he thought she might faint. He lifted her back across the threshold and helped her into the overstuffed flowered chintz easy chair. She pressed her palm against her forehead and closed her eyes.

“I don’t believe she did this,” she muttered.

Max leaned against the bookshelf that flanked the fireplace. “Miranda,” he said, “don’t worry about it. I’ll leave immediately and we’ll pretend it never happened. I’m sorry, I should have known. I should have checked with you to make sure it was on the level. I thought... well, maybe I didn’t think or I wouldn’t have come. But Rob said... Rob called and told me about this place where he hunts wild turkeys. I never suspected.” He frowned at the recollection of the call. Rob had been so friendly, so sincere. And Max was desperate for a diversion, anything to get his mind off Miranda. A weekend in the woods, camping out with a group of men. It had sounded good.

BOOK: Mail-Order Millionaire
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