never agreed on anything. Never had. Never would. The only link they had was Liz, and since his wife’s death only his daughters had kept their association alive.
“Agreed,” she said and followed him down the path and through the side gate. “And your bull busted some of the fence palings, by the way. So they’ll need to be repaired. You can send someone over to do it if you like.”
Grady got the message. Someone. Not him. “You’re not much of a morning person, are you?”
“What?”
“Seems like you left your manners on the other side of the bed this morning.”
She stopped in her tracks. “I did not. And I’m being perfectly—”
“Obnoxious,” he said, cutting her off. “Give it a rest, Marissa. I know you had a long drive yesterday and you’re upset about Miss Violet, but you called and I’m here. I’ll take Earl home and get my foreman to come over and repair your fence, and if you want to drop by today or tomorrow to see the girls, that’s okay. But can you ditch the attitude? I really don’t have the time for it. I’ve got beef to get to market this week and I’m interviewing for a new housekeeper, and I don’t want the kids to pick up on any tension between us.”
She stared at him. Glared at him. And he waited for her to respond, to go on the offensive. To give it back to him in spades.
“Tension?” Her eyes widened. “Is that what it is?”
Grady shrugged. “I don’t know. All I do know is that sometimes being around you is kind of exhausting.”
When she didn’t say anything, he left her and walked toward the bull.
* * *
Obnoxious? Attitude? Exhausting?
Perhaps she had been a little mean-spirited and irritable about the bull, but that didn’t mean he had to tell her off about it.
She followed him, hands on hips, and watched as he effortlessly harnessed the bull and began to lead him across the lawn. He had a way with animals. Kids, too. She’d witnessed how much his daughters adored him on many occasions. Liz had adored him, too. And he’d adored Liz in return. Her friend had told her how much she’d loved being his wife. How caring and loyal he was. How faithful and strong.
Faithful? It wasn’t a concept in marriage she was used to. Simon had betrayed her too many times. And within months of their wedding he’d cheated on her with a colleague Marissa had once considered a friend. In hindsight she knew she should never have married her boss, no matter how charming he had appeared. When she’d confronted him, he became verbally abusive, and later, that verbal abuse turned into violence. That’s when she’d bailed...and she thanked her lucky stars she’d had the mental fortitude to escape. She’d told no one what had transpired. She had no one to tell. Liz was gone by then and she had no intention of burdening Aunt Violet with such knowledge. So she had stayed quiet and kept her problems to herself. She’d changed firms but Simon had already made it impossible for her to get the kind of position she was qualified for. He was top in his field, a true corporate shark, and pulled a lot of weight in a town where reputation was everything. And once Marissa’s reputation was tainted, there was nowhere to go, no company that would take a risk with her, despite her stellar résumé and experience.
So, even before Aunt Violet’s accident, she was planning on returning to Cedar River. She wasn’t running away. She was starting over. Carving out a new life with new possibilities. To help Aunt Violet and fulfill the promise she’d made to Liz to always be there for her daughters.
And being at odds with Grady from the outset wasn’t going to make that easy. So she sucked up her irritation and took a breath.
“I don’t mean for us to always end up arguing, you know.”
Grady stilled when she spoke, tightening his grip on the lead rope as he stared at her.
“You don’t?” he queried and grinned a little. “It’s the tension thing, then?”
Earl snorted loudly and she took a wary step backward. She wasn’t much of a cowgirl. She didn’t even know how to ride. Liz had looked awesome in the saddle, and she knew Grady’s two oldest daughters had ponies of their own.
She dropped her arms. “It’s just that we...we...”
“We’ve never gotten along,” he finished for her. “Yeah, I know.”
“But I think we should try, for the girls’ sake,” she added. “They mean the world to me.”
“And to me,” he said quietly, and she couldn’t help but notice how the wind gently flipped through the hair at his collar. “And I do want them to know you, Marissa. There are things they can learn from you that they never will from me.”
Mother kind of things. Marissa didn’t miss the meaning of his words. Liz was gone and her daughters longed for a mother’s love. She knew that. She’d felt it every time she called them on the phone and the last time she’d come home for a visit. Breanna in particular had craved her attention and had cried when she’d left. It was a memory that had haunted Marissa for months. And Milly...she’d been so close to Liz, and Marissa knew she missed her mother terribly. As for the baby, Tina had no memory of her mom. It was tragic all around. And since one of the last things Liz had asked of her just before she died was for Marissa to look after her girls, she knew she would always endeavor to do exactly that. Liz was her dearest friend and had been a lifesaver when Marissa had lost her own mother.
“I’ll do whatever I can for them,” she said earnestly.
Grady was watching her with such burning intensity she was tempted to look away. But she didn’t. She met his gaze head-on. Steadfast. Resolute.
“Okay,” he said and kind of half smiled. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate any time you can spend with them.”
“I could take them out tomorrow,” she suggested. “Once I’ve settled in and stocked the house with some supplies. I thought I might take Breanna and Milly to see Aunt Violet.”
He nodded. “Sure. You can collect them from my mom’s around eleven. I always take them to her place Saturday morning.”
Marissa knew that. Liz had started that tradition years earlier. And she liked Colleen Parker a lot, too. Grady’s mother was one of those kind, forthright people who was always on hand for a cup of peppermint tea and a chat.
“Great,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded again and lingered, as if he wasn’t quite finished speaking to her. “Yeah...right.”
Tension returned and quickly filled the space between them. It was always like that. There was no remedy. No way of altering the fact that they rubbed each other the wrong way. It was instinct. Inescapable. It always would be.
“Goodbye, Grady.”
He stared at her. Through her. His deep blue eyes were unwavering and intense.
“So long, Marissa,” he said finally and urged the bull forward. He got to the gate and then turned. “And Marissa...it’s good to have you back.”
One brow rose. “You sure about that?”
“No,” he said candidly. “Not one damned bit.”
Then he walked through the gate and out of sight.
“So...have you been seeing anyone lately?”
Grady rocked back in his chair and released a squirming Tina, who’d dropped her favorite stuffed frog on the floor and wanted it back. He picked up the toy and placed it into her arms.
He sat in his mother’s kitchen, drinking coffee and