Courtship In Granite Ridge. Barbara McCauleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
turning away, shoulders slumped.
“Come, on, Slate.” She turned and walked back to the kitchen. “Give a hand while I get dinner started. You’re staying, of course.”
Just like the old days, he thought with a smile and followed. But when she bent to search through a stack of cans in the corner pantry, Kasey’s well-rounded bottom encased in snug jeans reminded him this was definitely not the old days, and she definitely was not the same Kasey.
Clearing his throat, he looked away and studied a blue-framed needlepoint by the back door that said, Home Is Where The Heart Is.
“Here—” she tossed him a can of green beans then headed for the refrigerator “—open these while I mix the hamburgers. So you’re into oil now, huh? Where you working?”
He caught the can and turned to the electric opener on the counter beside the sink. “I’ve got a job starting on an Alaskan rig in three weeks.”
“Alaska!” Hamburger in one hand and an onion in the other, Kasey closed the refrigerator door with a bump of her hip. “You hate the cold. Remember the ski trip we took to Colorado? You were miserable the whole time.”
He didn’t exactly hate it, he just preferred the heat. And this was getting way off the subject he wanted to pursue. “Look, Kasey, about your ad in the paper—”
“You saw it?” She closed the refrigerator and stared at him in amazement. “How?”
He wasn’t quite ready to explain that he’d subscribed to the Granite Ridge Gazette for the past ten years. Ignoring her question, he clipped the can of green beans onto the opener, turned it on, and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Kase, there are always options.”
Still holding the package of hamburger in her hand, she stared blankly at him. “Options?”
“Alternatives, another way to, uh, deal with your situation.”
She frowned. “Well, I suppose there are, but I really haven’t the time or money for anything else. Besides, the good old-fashioned way is more my style. At least this way, if it doesn’t work, I can get my money back.”
Slater’s hand slipped off the electric can opener and the can clattered onto the counter.
“Get your money back?” he rasped. “You mean to tell me you’re actually going to pay someone to marry you?”
Two
Kasey blinked. A slow opening and closing of her lids, as if, in the space between dark and light. Slater’s words might actually make some sense.
Pay someone to marry her?
What, on God’s good earth, was he talking about?
All she could do was stare, despite the fact that green beans were running over the counter and into the sink, despite the fact that Slater was waiting for her to say something.
Had he slipped in a puddle of oil and fallen off a derrick? Or maybe a loose coupling had knocked him in the head. Maybe that scar on his forehead had been a more serious injury than it appeared.
She cleared her throat and met his dark, intense gaze. “Excuse me?”
He frowned. “Look, Kasey, I know it’s none of my business. You’re obviously a big girl now. But advertising for a husband in a newspaper is just not safe. God only knows what kind of maniac might show up at your door.”
A maniac did show up at her door, she thought in disbelief. Him. “Slater,” she said quietly, “could you, uh, explain to me exactly why you’re here?”
“Kasey, look—” he sighed deeply “—I realize life gets a little lonely. Sometimes when things overwhelm a person, they don’t think too clearly and they make rash decisions.”
“You mean my decision to buy a husband,” she said, wanting to make sure she understood him. Only she didn’t understand him.
“You gotta admit, Kase, it is a little crazy.”
Crazy? He was talking to her about crazy? She looked at the package of meat in her hand. Did he really think that she wanted to buy a husband, like she might a pound of hamburger? Where in the world did he get such an idea?
“This advertisement,” she asked carefully, “exactly where did you see it?”
“It doesn’t matter where I saw it,” he said firmly. “I just thought that maybe you needed someone, a friend. With your parents gone, and you being divorced and having a family...” His voice trailed off, and he shifted anxiously.
Family. Her sons. Kasey suddenly realized they’d been awfully quiet for awfully long. She glanced at the kitchen door and saw two little heads duck away, then heard the sound of footsteps heading up the stairs.
If this day got any stranger, she’d be in the twilight zone.
Maybe she was in the twilight zone. She remembered the looks she’d gotten in town, the snickers, the way Mildred had treated her when Steven had wanted to say hello.
The way her sons had acted with Slater.
Could it be...was it possible?
“Excuse me for a minute, will you?” She shoved the hamburger at Slater. “I’ll be right back.”
“But—”
She ignored him and headed straight for her sons’ bedroom. She had the strangest—and most horrible—feeling that they knew something she didn’t.
She found them putting their clothes away, exactly as she’d told them to do. That cinched it. If they were actually doing as she’d asked, without being told three times, there was no doubt they were up to something.
They glanced at her when she entered the room, but continued unpacking with the same attention they might give a video game.
“Hey, Mom.” Cody pulled a stack of baseball cards out of his suitcase and shuffled them nervously. “Is Mr. Slater still here?”
“As a matter of fact, he is.” She closed the door quietly behind her, then leaned back against it They’d break, she knew, and based on the tension in the room, it wouldn’t be long.
“Is he gonna stay?” Troy asked, then bit his bottom lip when Cody shot him a vicious look.
“Stay?” Kasey repeated. “Would there be a reason why he might stay?”
“He’s your friend, isn’t he?” Cody dropped the baseball cards into a big box along with all the other cards in his collection, then glanced at his mother, his look hopeful.
“A friend I haven’t seen in ten years,” Kasey said. “And now, suddenly, here he is, telling me the most amazing story about an ad in a newspaper. Something about a husband.”
The boys looked at each other, then Cody hurriedly turned his attention back to unpacking his suitcase. Troy carefully studied one of the rocks he’d collected on the trip.
“The funny thing is,” Kasey went on, “I don’t seem to remember placing an ad in any newspaper for a husband. I mean, I could have forgotten, being so busy with the trip and all, but I don’t think so.” She moved closer to her sons and stood over them, arms folded. “What do you boys think?”
Cody grabbed a handful of dirty socks and started for the dresser. Kasey stepped around him, then pointed to his bed. “Sit.” She looked at Troy. “You, too.”
Eyes downcast, both boys sat.
Arms folded, she stood over her sons. “You want to tell me something?”
Cody sighed. “We were gonna tell ya, really, but we sorta forgot.”
“You forgot?”
“Yeah,” Troy agreed. “We forgot.”
She