The Trouble With Angels Page 0,28

since her divorce.

"Maureen?"

"I don't think so." No one in her right mind would voluntarily set herself up for the kind of heartache Brian had inflicted upon her and Karen. The endless list of lies. The hurt. The infidelity.

"Why not?"

Maureen should have guessed this was a man who didn't take no easily. She didn't know how to tell him she was afraid. Afraid of falling in love again. Afraid of making herself vulnerable. Afraid of being afraid.

"Date again? You've got to be joking. I haven't got time for a relationship."

"Maureen," he said gently, softly, "there's no reason to be scared."

He knew. He hadn't listened to her words; instead he'd heard the underlying fear as no one ever had before. He straightened, set aside his mug, and walked over to where she was sitting. Maureen's heart felt like machine-gun firing inside her chest. It was all she could do to keep from bolting from the office.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he told her in the silkiest of tones, and pressed his callused palm against her cheek.

Maureen flinched involuntarily at the unexpectedness of his touch. His hand was cool against her flushed skin.

"No one's going to hurt you," he told her. "Not anymore."

Maureen nearly laughed out loud. Apparently Thom hadn't gotten the message. All at once there were tears in her eyes. She couldn't remember thinking she was about to break into tears. She knew she should leave before she embarrassed herself any further. How she managed to keep them from falling and from making a complete idiot of herself was something she couldn't answer.

"I'd better go now," she said, abruptly setting her mug aside. "Thanks for the coffee," she muttered on her way out the door.

The instant she was alone, she pressed both index fingers under her eyes and drew in several deep, stabilizing breaths.

Maybe she was coming down with a virus, she reasoned. Crazy as it seemed, she prayed that was exactly what was happening to her.

She made it back to her car just in time for Karen to come racing from the corral.

"Mom, guess what?"

"What, sweetheart?"

"I learned all about saddles and stirrups and blankets, and I learned about the different brands used. Ken calls it cowboy calligraphy." She stopped long enough to draw in a deep breath before starting again. Maureen swore her daughter talked nonstop for another five minutes, mentioning in detail everything she'd learned until she was nearly panting.

"And guess what else?"

"I can't imagine," Maureen said, struggling to hold in a smile.

"Paula said I could have a kitten if it's all right with you, and..."

"A kitten," Maureen mumbled. Good grief, she should have seen that coming. "I'll think about it," she promised, and for now that was the best she could do. Actually she wouldn't mind a pet, but she'd need to read over her lease first.

"Oh, and one thing more," Karen said, so excited she could barely hold still. "I asked Paula to spend Friday night with us, that's all right, isn't it? She's asking her dad now."

Coward that she was, Maureen was about to usher her daughter into the car and make a clean getaway when Thom's daughter raced out of the barn. Thom was directly behind her. Maureen was certain his grin stretched from one ear to the other.

"I understand Karen's invited Paula to spend Friday night," he said with a glint in his eye. "I have a great idea. Why don't I treat the four of us to western-style barbecue first? We'll pick you up around six, all right?"

"Oh, Mom," Karen said, gazing up at her mother hopefully. "Dinner in a restaurant? Can we? Oh, please, it would be so much fun."

"Ah..." Maureen wasn't sure what to do.

"Please," Thom coaxed, and leveled one of his daredevil smiles on her.

"Ted!" Catherine set aside her magazine, delighted to see her grandson, especially when she wasn't expecting him. "How nice of you to drop by."

Ted gave her a warm peck on the cheek and sat down next to her in the parlor, which was the social gathering place for the retirement center. "I should have let you know I was stopping by."

"Nonsense." Catherine had given a good deal of thought to her meeting with Blythe Holmes and was beginning to think she might have overreacted. She was an old woman, set in her ways, and it was only natural that she feel a certain amount of - she hated to use this word - resentment toward the woman who'd be marrying her precious grandson.

Ted scanned