The Long Road Home by Mary Alice Monroe Page B

she told herself. Why was she on edge? Sheleaned against the refrigerator to appear equally casual, but immediately felt self-conscious and righted herself.
    An awkward silence fell between them. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. She tapped her foot, looked out the window, felt a blush creeping up her neck. Then, not able to withstand the silence or his watchful gaze any longer, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
    “Thank you for leaving the coffee this morning. At least, I assume it was you.” She laughed, then felt childish.
    He straightened and headed for the hot coffee. “It was nothing.” Hand on the pot, he asked, “Mind if I have some?”
    “Not at all. It’s your coffee, after all. Oh, and thank you for the fire, too,” she added, walking in its direction. She stuck out her hands and made a show of warming them over the heat. “It was very thoughtful.”
    “No problem,” he answered between gulps, watching her over the rim of his cup. “You’ll have to keep that thing stoked up, not only for yourself but so the pipes don’t freeze. That would be a real mess. And expensive.”
    Nora made another mental note.
    “If you’re cold, why don’t you just turn on the heat up here?”
    “Because it costs a fortune to heat this white elephant with electric heat.”
    C.W. raised an eyebrow. Why would the expense bother her now, after all these years? MacKenzie should have left her set for life. Well set. What was going on here? His suspicions tingled but he dismissed them. For all he knew, she was one of those tightwads who was always flicking off lights and squeezing a penny, not because they didn’t have one, but because they were terrified of losing one.
    C.W. looked over at Nora as she warmed her hands. No, she didn’t look like the penny-pinching type. She was, infact, his type. Simple, natural; a beauty so assertive it did not require a fashion statement. If she fattened up a bit, she’d fill out those jeans nicely, he thought. She had one of those bodies that looked great in jeans. Her thighs were long and her hips were small and firm. Soft mounds rose and fell under her baggy sweater, and beneath all that wool was the slender form that he had felt the day before. Knowing it was there, beneath all the layers, added to her quiet seductiveness. Even her feet were small and tucked in scuffed loafers. Where had she been all those years in New York? He’d have remembered her.
    “Are you settled in?” she asked.
    He shifted his gaze away. “More or less.”
    “Must be cold in that cabin.”
    “A bit.”
    “Perhaps you could stay here and—”
    “No,” he said emphatically.
    Nora blinked hard. “I… It was only a suggestion.”
    He paused, then sighed and leaned against the counter. “I realize that,” he said with a milder tone. “Thank you. But it’s better this way.”
    She nodded. It would only be a matter of time before the gossips guessed which room he slept in. “I’ll lend a hand fixing up the cabin. In fact, I have to go to town to buy supplies. What do you need?” She paused and put her hand on her forehead. “Come to think of it, I don’t have a car.”
    Her eyes met his over the rim of his mug. He didn’t sip, and his hesitancy revealed he anticipated her next question with dread.
    “Could you drive me to town? You could pick up what you need for the cabin while I do my own shopping.”
    C.W. set down his coffee and tapped his fingers on thecounter. A small muscle twitched in his jaw and his tension crossed the room to grab her.
    “Is there a problem with that?”
    He took a deep breath. He rarely went to town, preferring a hermit’s life in the mountains. Although once an avid reader of the news, these days, he barely even scanned the Rutland Herald.
    “I can’t go to town.”
    “Can’t?”
    “I’m tied up at the barn,” he quickly added. “Besides, I wouldn’t be a very good guide. I’ll check with Frank.”
    Nora took in his