Snow Melts in Spring - By Deborah Vogts Page 0,50

made a face at the toddler in her arms and stuck out her bottom lip, showing no sensitivity to the weight of this conversation, or to Mattie’s distress.

Mattie took the girl from Clara’s arms to gain her friend’s full attention. “Do you think I’m ugly? Too hotheaded? Overly interested in my work?”

Clara blinked. “You’re talking nonsense.”

Mattie exhaled the turmoil building inside. “I’m serious. Look at me — I’m practically thirty years old. Do you suppose there’s a reason men aren’t attracted to me?”

“All men, or one in particular?”

“Gil McCray.” Mattie mouthed the words and her cheeks grew warm.

Clara’s eyes widened. “Why would you care what that man thinks? Didn’t he accuse you of having a thing for his dad? The nerve of some men.” She chuckled, but when Mattie didn’t join in, her eyes narrowed.

Mattie practically heard the siren go off in her friend’s head.

“Is something going on between you two?”

Mattie shrugged, still not sure herself.

At her sign of indecision, Clara grasped Mattie’s arm. “You’d better be careful with that one. He’s rich, good-looking, and used to getting his way.” She immediately clammed up, her eyes fixed on something beyond. “We’ll talk later,” she said through the side of her mouth. “You-know-who is walking this way and is almost to your back door.”

GIL SPOTTED MATTIE AS HE SHOOK HANDS WITH RANCHERS AND neighbors from the community. The site of her long red hair against the green sweater made his heart quicken — made him long to touch the wispy curls that escaped her braid once again. Best to continue walking to the door with the rest of the men — make his escape without tempting another awkward moment, but that would seem rude, wouldn’t it?

He edged through the departing crowd to where Mattie and another lady stood.

“Good morning, Doc. I didn’t realize you attended New Redeemer.” At his words, Mattie turned and smiled, though her features appeared strained. She held a curly, brown-haired child who pointed a pudgy finger at him.

“Gil.” Mattie spoke his name, and his stomach clenched. He felt like an awkward schoolboy in her presence, and he didn’t like it.

“I didn’t know you did either.” She handed the child to the other woman and repositioned her sweater.

“I’m sure there’s much we don’t know about each other.” He cleared his throat. Of course there was much she didn’t know — things he wanted kept hidden — for her sake and for his. He offered his hand to the woman behind Mattie. “Clara, isn’t it? From the café?”

“That’s right.” The woman’s eyes narrowed as though sizing him up. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Could she see right through him?

Mattie fidgeted with the leather purse on her shoulder and glanced about, her restlessness palpable. His presence obviously made the doc uncomfortable, and after last night, who could blame her?

“Do either of you have plans for lunch?” Gil clenched his jaw. Was he a dimwit? Better to have chucked his loss and walked away.

The two women exchanged odd expressions. “As a matter of fact, we do,” Clara said. “Mattie and I were just discussing how we never have a chance for girl talk.”

Gil hadn’t been around many females in his life, but he knew when something was up.

“Between Mattie’s practice and my restaurant and the kids . . . I’m sure you understand.”

Relief flooded his chest. “Another time, then.” As he stepped backward, a hint of regret flashed in Mattie’s eyes.

Like a dope, his next words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Mattie, if you don’t have anything scheduled this afternoon, maybe you’d like to drop by and watch the Super Bowl with Dad and me.”

What am I doing?

Why did he feel the need to spend time with the woman? “Never mind, I forgot you don’t care for football.”

Nice save.

Gil closed his eyes and turned to leave, this time for good.

“Should I bring some chips and dip?” she asked.

His feet stalled in the aisle.

He looked back at Mattie, feeling as though he’d just scored a touchdown pass. “Snacks would be good, or don’t worry about it and just bring yourself.”

“YOU’RE PLAYING WITH FIRE,” CLARA SAID A FEW MINUTES LATER AS she bundled the kids to go out in the snow. “I should know, considering my own failed marriage.”

Mattie offered Clara a lopsided smile. She respected her friend’s opinion, whether it was something she wanted to hear or not. “C’mon, you gotta help me. How do you know when a guy’s interested? I mean, one minute

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