The Trouble With Angels Page 0,44

Thom or else slip straight off Midnight's back. As it was, she felt as if she were sitting on a trampoline. Her buttocks lifted several inches off the saddle and slammed down repeatedly.

Immediately her arms shot out and went around Thom in an octopus grip. Her head jerked up and down until her teeth felt as if they were about to fall out.

Thom patted her hands, which were joined at his stomach. "That isn't so bad, now, is it?"

He'd nearly unsaddled her on purpose in an effort to get her to hold him. Maureen was sure of it. She noticed that Midnight's gait was much more relaxed now, and she sat relatively comfortably behind him.

Maureen would have chastised Thom, but just then they trotted into the yard and Karen came racing toward them.

"Mom," she cried, "where were you?"

"Lost," she muttered. "I did something none of us should ever do. I went for a walk without telling anyone where I was going."

"You're restricted for a week," Karen said, sounding dead serious, then ruined her feigned outrage by giggling. "I was worried until Mr. Nichols decided to look for you. Paula told me he wouldn't come back until he'd found you."

A man of his word. Maureen didn't know there were any left in this world. She'd been married to a man who'd often bartered with the truth, a man who'd traded away his integrity and destroyed their marriage for a few moments' pleasure with another woman.

"Come inside the house," Thom said. He slipped from Midnight's back and reached up to help Maureen down. It seemed his hands gripped her about the waist several seconds longer than necessary.

"Inside the house?" she asked once her feet were planted firmly on solid ground. Ken led Midnight into the barn.

"You're half frozen. You need something warm."

She wanted to argue, tell him the car heater would chase away any chill, but the words never made it to her lips.

"Great idea," Karen said, "and while you're talking to my mom you might say a few words about letting people know where she's going."

"I might," Thom agreed, then whispered for Maureen's benefit, "but don't worry, I won't."

He led the way into the house. The coffee was already brewed, and he poured them each a cup. The girls had mysteriously disappeared.

"About Friday night," Thom said, bracing his lean hip against the kitchen counter. Maureen was sitting down, more shaken from the episode of being lost and found than she cared to admit.

"Friday night?"

"The telephone call from your ex-husband."

"What about it?" she asked defensively.

"I think we should talk about it."

"I don't." Maureen had no intention of rehashing the unpleasant encounter with Brain, especially not with Thom.

"Not what was said between you and your ex, but what happened to us after the call. We were just getting to the point where we could communicate, really communicate."

That wasn't the way Maureen remembered it. As she recalled, it wasn't talking they'd been involved in when the phone rang.

"Nothing happened, nor will it again," she announced in her firmest voice. She'd made a mistake by lowering her guard once with this man, and he'd taken quick advantage. She had no intention of repeating the error.

"You're wrong," Thom said gently. "Something did happen. Something very good. It's unfortunate that it ended when it did."

"Unfortunate" wasn't the word she'd use. Brian's call was a blatant reminder of her past mistakes. She would never allow another man to hurt her the way Brain had.

Thom set aside his mug, walked over to the table, and straddled a chair. He folded his arms over the back and smiled at her. "Don't look so worried, I'm a patient man. I've been waiting a long time for you. I can wait a little longer for you to trust me."

Waiting a long time for you. Maureen lowered her gaze, afraid of what he might read in her eyes. "Why me?"

It took him a moment to compose his thoughts. "That first afternoon when we talked on the phone, I realized you were as lonely as I was. We both had daughters about the same age. We'd both walked the floors, fretted, and worried if we were doing a good enough job as single parents." He flexed his hands as if searching for something just outside of his reach. "There was a sadness in you. I've known that, too. I realize you don't want to discuss your marriage. Not yet. I'm hoping that sometime in the future you'll change your mind. When you do, I'll