Marriage At Circle M. DONNA ALWARD

She was fine. This wasn’t like the other time. The car was stopped but she was unhurt. She left the driver’s side door opened, grabbed the wheel with one hand and managed to push the hunk of metal a few feet closer to the shoulder of the road.

      She hadn’t gone off the road, hadn’t hit anything. It could be worse, she reminded herself, knowing exactly how much worse it might have been. Panting from the exertion of pushing the car, she took a few moments to sit on the front bumper and catch her breath. Her hair was askew around her face, so she let it down all the way, letting it cascade over her shoulders.

      Of all the things to happen today. First the cold, then fighting with Mike, twice even. Their arguing had to stop, and she had to come up with a way to get it through his thick head once and for all that she was running her own life. It had been much easier when he’d kept his distance, going about his business and just being the regular friend he’d always been.

      Tears threatened. “Stop it,” she chided herself. Just because she was tired and still a bit sick was no reason to get all emotional. And neither was Mike a reason. She got back up and lifted the hood, as if magically looking beneath it she’d figure out exactly what had gone wrong. Now that he seemed to be paying her more attention it was driving her crazy. But she’d asked for it, hadn’t she? Asked for Mike to look at her differently.

      She put the hood back down and sighed, remembering the feel of his fingers on her face, how close his lips had been to hers this afternoon. He was right. There was something between them.

      But Mike was changing. He was settling down. He had his own business now, and was building a house…looking to the future, and probably a family. All the things she’d wanted back then.

      For that very reason, there shouldn’t be anything between them. Not if she were to be fair.

      She grabbed her purse from the car and squinted up at the sun. At least there was no chance of rain. That would have been the icing on the cake. Her thin-soled sandals slapped on the light asphalt of the road as she started back toward the ranch. She’d have to go back and call for someone to tow the car. And who knew how much that would cost to fix. Her budget was already stretched too thin.

      She was about a half mile from the vehicle when she saw a figure on horseback cutting through the pasture on her left. She kept walking. It could be any number of hands; she knew exactly how many because she’d written their checks that very afternoon.