The Pregnant Ms. Potter by Millie Criswell

Author:Millie Criswell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Meltdown. That’s what Maddy was feeling at the moment. Having spent another blissful night in her husband’s arms—they’d made love every morning and night since the wedding ceremony two weeks ago—her body felt deliciously melted, like hot fudge pouring over vanilla ice cream, only sweeter.

The snow had melted, too. As quickly as it had come, the snow was now melting from the increased temperature and succession of sunny days. The weather forecasters blamed it on El Niño or La Niña, she forgot which one. Maddy was just happy to see the end of the inclement weather. At least, for the time being. Pete said the weather in Colorado was contrary and unforgiving, so it was likely they’d have more snow before all was said and done.

Staring out the upstairs bedroom window, Maddy observed her husband on the back of Junebug, his favorite mare. He was giving the buckskin and several of the horses some much needed exercise. Someday, when she learned to ride and wasn’t pregnant, she’d be able to help him. But for now, Maddy was content to watch him put the horses through their paces.

There was something to be said for a man in tight-fitting jeans, cowboy boots and a black Stetson. “Ride ’em cowboy” had taken on a whole new meaning, she realized, smiling to herself.

Watching Pete work the horses was far more agreeable than the task awaiting her, Maddy thought, gazing down at the big packing boxes that had arrived last evening via the parcel service. She heaved a dispirited sigh. Sorting through all her pretty clothes—items she could no longer wear at the moment—was sure to depress her.

Her former secretary, Liz Gordon, had volunteered—bless her heart!—to pack up Maddy’s apartment and ship her clothing and other personal items to her when Maddy had called to inform the woman, and the powers that be, that she would not be coming back.

The furniture, small appliances and such, Liz would arrange to store, until such time as Maddy figured out what to do with them. The modern design of her furniture would not complement the Taggart antiques. Most likely, she would ask Liz to sell them or donate the goods to the Salvation Army or Goodwill.

As Maddy had predicted, Lassiter, Owens and Cumberland had been only too happy to accept her resignation. They’d cut her a generous severance check, with an added bonus for her work on the Singleton brokerage account, and even given her a glowing letter of recommendation, should she decide to seek employment elsewhere. Anywhere but there would make them inordinately happy.

That was especially true in David’s case, who had not seen fit to write a note or wish her well. Good riddance! she thought. She’d found herself a real man, not an empty suit.

Maddy took one look at the small closet and another at the large cartons and knew immediately that something had to give. There wouldn’t be room in Pete’s closet for all of her apparel. Admittedly, she had a lot. Clothes and shoes were her passion.

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