A Season for Grace by Linda Goodnight

Author:Linda Goodnight
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2006-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

An excited Mia jumped out of her Mustang, leaving her jacket behind and hurrying through the cool, windy evening to Collin’s front door. In the west the sun was setting, a testament to the shorter days of late autumn.

The hollow sound of a hammer rang through the otherwise quiet countryside. Not once in the months since meeting him had she come to this house and found Collin idle. He was either working on the house, with the animals or helping Mitchell do something. Didn’t the man ever lie around on the couch like a slob the way her brothers did?

She waited for a pause in the hammering and then pounded hard on the door. She’d finally found something and she couldn’t wait to share the news with Collin.

“Collin, hello.”

The hammering ceased. After a minute, she saw movement from the corner of her eye and heard Collin’s voice. She spotted him near the side of the house, the area still mostly in skeleton form.

In the fading light, Collin raised the hammer in greeting, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, he wore a tool belt slung low on his hips.

“Hey,” he said.

She started toward him, her heart doing a weird ker-thumping action. Okay, so she was glad to see him. And yes, he was good-looking enough to make any woman’s heart beat a little faster. But she was excited because of the news she had, not because Collin had smiled as if he was glad to see her, too. Mostly.

Adam and his insinuations were getting to her.

“Watch your step.” Collin gestured at the pile of tools strewn about on the concrete pad, and then reached out to put a hand under her elbow.

His was a simple act of courtesy, but her silly heart did that ker-thump thing again. Come to think of it, this was the first time Collin had ever intentionally touched her.

A naked light bulb dangled from an extension cord in one corner to illuminate the work space. The smell and fog of sawdust hung cloud-like above a pile of pale new boards propped beside a table saw.

“I finally have the decking on top,” he said with some satisfaction, unmindful of her sudden awareness of him as a man. “Even if the room won’t be completely in the dry before the really cold weather sets in, I’ll be able to work out here.”

Usually Mitchell was under foot, pounding and sawing under Collin’s close supervision. She looked around, saw no sign of the boy. “Where’s Mitchell?”

Collin placed the hammer on a makeshift table, his welcoming expression going dark. “I caught him smoking in the barn. Took him home early.”

“Oh, no. I thought you’d made him see the senselessness of cigarettes.”

“Yeah, well that was a big failure, I guess.” He sighed, a heavy sound, and ran both hands up the back of his head. “He’s been acting up again. Mouthy. Moody. Maybe I’m not doing him any good after all.”

“Don’t think that, Collin.

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