Addie stretched in the comfortable feather bed the next morning, loathe to leave the warm cocoon where she’d slept without being aware of even moving all night. After her eventful arrival and introduction to Connie and Thomas, the cheerful woman had shown her to this room that definitely displayed a woman’s touch. She’d washed as best she could, changed to a clean dress, and eaten a sumptuous meal.
Addie still felt embarrassed at her mistake over Connie and Thomas and the words she’d blurted out in their presence last night, thinking there was a boy named Thomas who was Grant’s son. How humiliating. Connie and Thomas couldn’t have been more gracious, never bringing up the subject, but she’d caught more than one glance pass between the two at dinner. She hadn’t been able to look at Grant all evening, and she made her excuses as soon as she could and slipped off to bed.
More than once, he appeared to want to take her aside and talk, but she’d managed to avoid him. Why hadn’t he set her straight before they arrived at the ranch?
She threw back the covers then hurried to dress and brush her hair, wondering if she’d slept past breakfast. Surely someone would have come for her if so. After lacing up her shoes, she stepped into the hall and hurried toward the stairs, her stomach rumbling at the wonderful fragrances emanating from the kitchen.
Grant waited at the bottom of the stairs, his solemn face upturned as she descended. “Addie, would you give me a chance to speak to you before we have breakfast?”
She hesitated for only a moment then nodded. “Of course. You’ve been quite gracious, allowing me to stay in your home.”
He extended his arm as her foot touched the bottom step. “Please. Allow me to show you the way.”
She slipped her hand into the crook of his bent elbow and almost removed it when a sensation quite unlike anything she’d experienced before shot up her arm and straight to her heart. Addie loosened her hold. “What did you want to say?”
He allowed her to precede him into the cozy parlor that she’d glimpsed upon her arrival yesterday, the fire still blazing cheerily on the hearth. “Won’t you have a seat?”
She moved to stand on the large handwoven rug placed between the two sofas in front of the fireplace and shook her head. “This is lovely. I’ll stand here, if you don’t mind. But shouldn’t we hurry? Won’t Connie“—she lingered a moment over the name—“wonder where we are?” She almost bit her tongue after the last word.
Grant grimaced. “I had that coming. I asked you here to apologize for my poor behavior. It seemed as though there was no opportunity to clear up the misunderstanding about Connie and Thomas, with my men arriving when they did, then the trip here in the bitter cold and with others around. I meant to tell you, but stopping you on the porch and doing so there felt—awkward.”
Addie’s lips parted at his statement. She hadn’t expected a heartfelt apology, but rather possible censure for her withdrawn behavior last night. “Thank you. This is your home, after all, and you don’t have to apologize.” She turned her head away and avoided his gaze.
She felt a gentle finger touch her chin and turn it toward him before the light touch disappeared.
He smiled into her eyes, his warm and inviting her in. “Oh, but I did. Whether it’s my home or not, I could tell I’d put you in a position that embarrassed you. That wasn’t my intention, and I didn’t think it through. That was my fault, and I’m sorry.” He took a step closer. “Forgive me, Addie?”
She could barely breathe, her heart was racing so fast. She wanted to press herself into his arms and stay there, and the impulse frightened her so much she stepped backward. She pressed her hand over her heart, trying to calm it, and barely kept from stammering. “Of course, and I do appreciate your kindness. Hadn’t we better go in to breakfast?”
Grant gritted his teeth as he pushed back his chair and rose from the table. It had taken all his willpower to not wrap Addie in his arms and hug her before they’d left the parlor. He knew he’d embarrassed her, and he wanted to make it right—he just wasn’t sure his apology had done so. But if her reaction to his nearness was any indication, it was the last thing she wanted.
He felt the impulse to kick something as he headed out the front door for the barn. Addie was betrothed to Sam Tolliver. He was starting to hate the very thought of that man, in spite of the fact he didn’t know him. But from the way Addie had jumped away from him when he’d stepped closer to her, it wouldn’t matter if Tolliver wasn’t in the picture. Of course, he had no right to press a suit, no matter how she affected him. And she certainly did affect him.
“Grant?” A hesitant voice called out from the doorway as he started down the steps. He swung around, and his heart lurched. Addie stood with her hand against the door frame, and her loveliness surprised him anew. Not that she was perfect, but there was something about her sweet spirit combined with her competent nature—not to mention the clear blue of her eyes and up-tilted lips—that drew him. He wanted to focus his gaze on her eyes, but he forced himself to look away. “Yes?”
She scrunched her brow. “Is something wrong?”
He jammed his hands in his pockets, only now realizing how cold it still was. “No. Why?” He hated being short with her, but all he wanted now was to get to the barn and do his chores—away from the temptation of those lips and eyes.
“You rushed outside without your coat, and you mentioned at breakfast that we could talk over a plan for getting me to Mt. Dora.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “It really is cold out here. Were you going somewhere in particular?”
“I have chores to do. You’d better get inside before you chill clear through. We’ll have to talk later.” He pivoted and stalked away.
“But what about you? Aren’t you concerned about getting sick again?” Her words drifted after him, but he didn’t turn.
He slowed long enough to call over his shoulder. “I’m fine. Go back in the house. A little cold isn’t going to hurt me.” He muttered the final words he’d like to say loudly but couldn’t. “I already feel sick—at heart—and I don’t want to talk to you.” He kept walking. If he turned or slowed, he’d run back to the house and tell her that the last thing he wanted to do was to talk about her leaving. But quite obviously, she was anxious to leave his ranch and get to her betrothed, and he couldn’t stop her. It wasn’t right to try to entice a woman to break her pledge. No honorable man would do that, and if nothing else, he’d always prided himself on being a man of honor. And he’d continue to be, even if it killed him.