Snow Melts in Spring - By Deborah Vogts Page 0,49

not worry about what you will drink or what you will wear.”

“That’s right. I’m not as pretty as a lily in the field, but God’s going to look after me just the same.”

“Even better,” he added.

A smile crept onto her face, and the sheer beauty of it, innocence coupled with integrity, made Gil’s heart topple inside his chest. He stood before her and studied her face in the dim overhead light. Mattie was far prettier than a flower. Curved brows over thick lashes, green eyes that reflected her every emotion. Long, slender nose.

The two of them were so different. Growing up, he hadn’t been able to run from these hills fast enough, and she couldn’t wait to get back. Why did he feel so attracted to her, as though God meant for them to be together?

Overwhelmed by an urge to kiss her, he tilted her chin and eased down. Close enough that her breath warmed his skin. He paused. What was he thinking? How could he pursue a relationship with this woman, considering his past — his connection to her sister?

Angered that he couldn’t outrun his mistakes, he let go abruptly and stepped away, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. Mattie’s home was in Kansas, his was in California, and that’s how it needed to stay. Better to keep his distance from this woman who could turn his thoughts to mush.

The river gurgled behind them, and a huge snowflake landed on Mattie’s cheek.

“Looks like the weatherman was right.” Gil held out his hand and two more snowflakes landed on his palm, melting instantly. “I’d best take you home before you turn into an icicle.”

Otherwise, he might be tempted to change his mind and indulge in the feel of her lips against his.

TWENTY-SIX

DRESSED IN FLANNEL PAJAMAS, MATTIE STARED OUT THE CABIN window and watched the giant snowflakes swirl in the yard light’s illumination. Her evening with Gil replayed in her mind as she considered his words and behavior. She pressed a finger to her lips and regarded her reflection in the icy glass, sure Gil meant to kiss her. He’d held her so close, his face inches from her own.

But then he’d let go, and from that moment until they awkwardly said good-night, he’d been as cool to her as the crisp evening air.

Mattie turned from the window and added another log to the fire. Warming her hands against the hot flames, her temper flared. Was she not good enough for him? Too short, too many freckles?

She clenched her fists. Why should she care?

Gil might be strong and good-looking, but the man had issues, and oh, how he got under her skin with his casual interest toward the Lightning M. That he wouldn’t consider returning to his childhood home gave her enough reason not to care. Then there were moments when she was sure he kept something from her. But what?

Mattie hopped beneath the thick bedcovers, eager to talk to another woman about her conflicting emotions. She knew for certain that she couldn’t confide in her mother or sisters. They’d blow this way out of proportion. As she settled against the pillow, the firelight glowed on the ceiling. A flickering flame beckoned to another, then embraced as one. Her lips parted as she allowed herself to imagine what Gil’s kiss might have been like.

THE NEXT MORNING AFTER CHURCH, MATTIE GRIPPED CLARA’S ARM and pulled her to the side as people filed out of the pews. “We need to talk . . . in private.”

Confusion spread over Clara’s face as she shifted Sara to her other arm. “What’s got into you? You’re more restless than all three of my kids.” She turned to reprove Jeremy and Nathan, who argued over who would carry their mama’s Bible.

Mattie pursed her lips at the comparison, but Clara’s assessment was right. She’d been as fidgety as a cat in a cage and had caught only portions of the pastor’s sermon. “I need a woman’s advice.”

This captured her friend’s attention.

Clara shooed her boys off to play with their friends in the fellowship hall. “Sounds serious. What sort of advice?”

“Not so loud.” Mattie eased them into a deserted alcove, away from the many ears passing by. It was hard enough talking to Clara about her personal life without having anyone else listen in.

“You know . . . female stuff.” Mattie felt so out of her element, she practically had to force the words from her mouth.

Clara’s eyes lit with amusement. “I see. What’s on your mind?” She

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