Marriage at Circle M (Windover Ranch #2) - Donna Alward Page 0,3

angus herd, which was almost as surprising as the fact that Mike finally stopped rodeoing and settled down to a full-time, lucrative business.

Seeing Mike on a more regular basis had inspired more than a few dreams on Grace’s part. As she pulled up in front of the house, she pressed a hand to her stomach. It had been easier when he hadn’t been in town that often. She’d been able to forget about their brief relationship…if it even could have been called a relationship. She’d been seventeen and he’d been twenty-one. For a few weeks they had been more than friends. For a few weeks she’d been blissfully happy.

But when the rodeo season started up again, he went with hardly a word. She’d been okay about it for a long time, or so she thought. The few times their paths had crossed, they’d gone back to being the friends they were before. But now that he was back to stay, seeing him so often brought back longings she thought were dead and buried. She got tongue-tied and bashful. Fiddled with her hair.

No one man should have the power to cause a girl to get so fluttery. She was supposed to be past that by now. She’d left girly behind when she and Steve had signed the divorce papers. When she realized that happily ever after didn’t really exist.

The house was quiet when she knocked, so she wandered around to the side of the house in case someone was outside.

She was in luck. Johanna, Connor’s grandmother, was kneeling at a small flower garden with the curly-topped Maren babbling happily at her side.

“Good morning, Mrs. Madsen.”

Johanna’s head turned, a smile lighting up her face. “Grace, dear. It’s so good to see you.” Rising, she brushed off the knees of her slacks and held out a hand to the toddling baby beside her. “Maren, you remember Grace, don’t you?”

Maren suddenly fell silent and plopped a thumb into her mouth, and Grace laughed.

“She probably doesn’t remember me. I haven’t been around much.”

“That’s about to change, isn’t it?”

Grace nodded at Johanna, the two exchanging a solemn look. “I thought I’d stop in today and get up to speed.”

“Connor and Mike are both out, but you’re no stranger to the setup. I know they’re both happy you’re here.”

“How is Alex, then?”

“Being monitored.” Johanna picked up the baby and climbed the steps to the deck. “So far she’s doing okay, but at thirty-two weeks…”

“They want to buy her—and the baby—some more time.” Grace followed Johanna inside, standing back as Maren was placed in her highchair.

“Exactly. The doctor said that even another couple of weeks can make a big difference with the baby’s lungs. Of course, Connor’s worried sick.”

Johanna put a sippy cup in front of Maren. “Connor’s spending almost all his time at the hospital, and Mike isn’t meant for bookwork, so I’m glad you’re here to help.”

“I’d do anything for…to help,” she finished, coloring at her almost mistake. Even if she knew she’d do anything for Mike, she didn’t need the rest of the world to know it. Thankfully Johanna seemed oblivious as she busied herself making iced tea.

The front door slammed, and Grace jumped. When Mike strode into the kitchen, she took a step back, her gaze drawn undeniably towards his.

God, he looked fabulous. All coiled strength in his faded jeans and corded muscles beneath a blue T-shirt. His hat, the cream-colored Stetson he never worked without, was on his head, but when he saw her standing there he automatically reached up to remove it.

It was August. His hair clung to his scalp in dark curls and Grace watched as one solitary bead of sweat trickled from one temple down his jaw.

Maren smacked her cup on the tray of her chair while Johanna watched, clearly intrigued with the silent interplay between the couple.

“Grace.”

“Mike.” His name sounded strangled to her as it came out of her mouth. And she knew she was glad she’d chosen a skirt and pretty blouse after all.

“I, uh, just came to get something to drink.”

“I think Johanna’s making some iced tea.”

Still their gazes clung, and she remembered the feel of his hands on her arms yesterday morning. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Goodness, they were staring at each other like idiots.

He broke away first. “Iced tea sounds perfect, but you’re not here to look after me, Mrs. Madsen.”

Johanna poured three glasses without batting an eye. “I’d like to know where all this Mrs. Madsen nonsense came from all of a