Weddings Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

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      She nodded, then flushed, feeling guilty. She’d had so much planned for today. “I haven’t gotten anything accomplished today.”

      She sounded like him, he thought. Before he’d learned better. “Not every day has to end with a mountain of accomplishments arrived at by exerting muscle power.” He opened a cupboard but didn’t find what he was looking for. “You’ve left your mind open to a possible truce. I’d say that was a great deal of work for one day.”

      June turned to look at him. She’d never met a man like Kevin before. Something stirred within her, but she refused to let it rise. “Did you ever think about putting all these sayings of yours into a book?”

      “Another undertaking to consider.” He laughed as he continued to hunt for a large frying pan. He’d found one pan, but it was small and hopelessly burned along the bottom.

      Two pots fell at his feet as he opened the next cupboard. Apparently her method of putting away cookware was to shove it into a closet and close the door quickly, praying that the laws of gravity would hold it in place.

      The laws took a holiday.

      With a sigh, knowing she had to do something, June crossed to where he was standing and picked up the fallen pots. She thought of the way her grandmother had badgered him earlier.

      “What about that other undertaking?” she asked, leaving the pots on the counter.

      Finding what he was looking for, he took the liberty of rinsing the pan out in the sink first, just in case the pots shared space with small, furry creatures. “Which one?”

      “The one my grandmother sprang on you. The transport service.” Did he want her to spell it out for him? To tell him that even though she’d rescued him from her grandmother’s grilling, part of her hoped he’d say yes to the proposition? “You weren’t serious when you said you’d think about it, were you? I mean, you were just humoring her, right?”

      He dried off his hands on the towel. Unable to read the look in her eyes or to decide which answer she wanted from him, he asked, “Would you want me to be serious?”

      Irritation rose. “Why do you always answer a question with another question?”

      “It’s what we philosophers do.” He laughed when he saw her frowning. “You’re the one who called me that, not me. I asked the question to find out how you felt about it.” He paused before opening her refrigerator, one that he had taken the liberty of stocking on his third day of work. “How would you feel about it?”

      The shrug was a little too deliberate, a little too studied. “We could use a transport service,” she acknowledged, then built on her words. “Hell, as far as I’m concerned, we’re way overdue for one. We could have used it a year ago. Maybe if we had one, I wouldn’t have sold my repair shop.” When he looked at her quizzically, she added, “A lot of business comes in from fixing planes.”

      “You can fix planes?” There was no end to the surprises the woman was hiding in her bag of tricks, was there?

      “I can fix anything that has to move.” She wasn’t bragging—it was a simple fact. “With the possible exception of some of the old men at the Salty.”

      “You had trouble with the tractor,” he reminded her, a grin playing on his lips.

      She ran her tongue along her lower lip, suddenly wanting to kiss him. To keep from giving in to the whim, she took a step away from him.

      “It was just a matter of time,” she hedged. “You figured it out first.”

      He nodded. “I really wasn’t talking about how you felt about having a transport service.”

      “Then what were you talking about?”

      “How you felt about me buying one.”

      She wasn’t about to get pinned down. Not when he didn’t say anything first. “Someone has to. Might as well be you.”

      “And that’s it?”

      Her look was hesitant. Edgy. “Why, what else do you want?”

      He smiled indulgently at her. “Now who’s answering questions with questions?”

      She began to drift around the small area, aimless. She’d never really fit into a kitchen. “I like to think I have an open mind and learn as I go along.”

      He tried another approach. This was not the outspokenness her grandmother had claimed was the hallmark of women out here. He was pulling teeth. “Would it bother you if I were around?”

      “You’re family. Why shouldn’t you be around?” She pressed her lips together. “Are you thinking about being around?”

      He shrugged, afraid to commit himself, especially when she didn’t seem to want his commitment. “Maybe.”

      She nodded slowly. “It’s good for the town.”

      About to slice carrots, he glanced in her direction. “How about for you?”

      “Hey, what’s good for the town is always good for me.”

      She took it no further than that.

      She had no feelings about it one way or another. He didn’t have to be hit on the head to pick up a cue, Kevin thought. He turned his attention back to making supper for them.

Chapter Thirteen

      Kevin climbed down off the ladder to survey his work. His mind wasn’t really on the wall he was painting, except in the most perfunctory of ways.

      They’d been steering clear of each other.

      Not an easy matter since he was still coming over to work on the house.

      Having finished the exterior, he was now busy painting the rooms themselves. Because June hadn’t expressed a preference for any particular color, he’d made the decision for her. He’d painted the walls a light shade of icy-blue, using white as an accent whenever he could. The house was slowly going from oppressively dreary to bright and cheery.

      The same couldn’t be said of their relationship. Whatever conversation might have existed before had now disintegrated into short sentences populated with fleeting, monosyllabic words. Not wanting to press, he’d taken his cue from her, thinking that June had either decided to regret what had happened between them or was trying to work her way through her ambivalent feelings regarding her father’s appearance and Yearling’s desire to make amends any way possible.

      In any case, she was reacting to Kevin as if he were some kind of stranger, not a man she’d made love with. He wasn’t sure just how much more he could take in tolerant silence.

      June was gone more than she was there. She was either working in the field, working in the barn or going to town to talk to her relatives.

      The one thing that was clear was that she didn’t want any part of him.

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