Healing the Boss's Heart (12 page)

Yes, but you always thought he was handsome,
she added honestly,
even if you didn’t think you’d ever be romantically attracted to him.

Maya felt as if she were arguing with an intractable foe when, in truth, she was pitted against only one. Herself. How in the world could she expect to win
that
battle?

Michael put Greg and the other men to work taking the boards off the cottage windows and checking for leaks in the roofs. Surprisingly, the old cabins had weathered the storm with little damage. They had been sealed up for years, so mostly needed cleaning, although more would have to be done to them eventually.

“We’ll have at least five of these ready by this afternoon,” Michael said, wiping his brow and smiling at his cousin.

“I can see that.” Greg hesitated. “Do me a favor?”

“Sure. What?”

“Don’t offer one of them to Maya Logan.”

“I hadn’t intended to.” Michael’s brow knit. “Isn’t she living in your extra apartment?”

“Yes. She is.”

The pastor began to grin. “Ah, I see. You want her to stay there and you’re afraid she might choose to move out here if I gave her the option.”

“Something like that.”

“Can I assume your intentions are honorable, cousin?”

That made Greg blush and stare at the younger man. “You sound like her father.”

Michael laughed. “I am, in a way. My job makes me father, brother, friend, teacher and confessor, sometimes all at the same time.” He sobered. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’d never do anything to hurt Maya, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Maybe not physically. I’m talking about breaking her heart. Are you sure you won’t do that?”

Greg had no ready answer for him. If his own feelings were any indication, there was more than
one
heart on the line, and he had no idea what he was going to do about it.

Maybe the kindest, smartest thing he could do was stay away from her. It wouldn’t be easy but he supposed it was worth a try. Then, if they were still attracted to each other later, he’d ask her for a real date.

What if she turns me down flat?

Then he’d know for sure, wouldn’t he? That hit him so hard it hurt.

L
ooking back, Maya couldn’t believe all that had happened in the few weeks since the disaster. Tommy had started spending all his spare time hanging around either the church or the Garrison building and had begun running a few simple errands for them, swelling with pride when Greg had insisted on paying him for doing so.

The makeshift memorial for Marie had grown so big Jesse had had to ask folks to stop contributing to it but Maya could tell he’d been touched by everyone’s heartfelt participation just the same. The only element that had still not been resolved was her family’s missing heirloom engagement ring. Jesse had found everything else in the rubble of his kitchen except that one ring that mattered most.

She would have preferred if Clay had contacted
her directly, but apparently he hadn’t gotten her new phone number and called the Circle L and had spoken with Jesse. Sadly, Clay had made no mention about when he might be coming home to Kansas, much to Maya’s dismay and disappointment.

She and Greg had settled into a routine, working together amicably during the day, then parting in the evenings. It was hard for her to keep from walking down the long hall and knocking on his door to borrow the proverbial cup of sugar but she managed to restrain herself. Layla, however, had no such reservations and spent as much time dropping in on Greg as she did staying at home. The child was clearly smitten with the man. Unfortunately, so was her mother.

Grumbling to herself—about herself—Maya found she could only tidy up the apartment so many times on the weekends before she grew too restless to remain inside. She was still waiting for the final insurance inspection and report on her damaged house so she didn’t dare begin rebuilding, nor could she do much cleanup of the site without risking losing some of the settlement money.

Therefore, she had dropped Layla at day care and headed for the church basement to see if there was any task that needed doing.

To her dismay, Greg was there, too. He’d been instrumental in setting up a lost and found, complete with a computerized listing of the items that had been
turned in, and was bringing those files up to date while showing Tommy Jacobs how to use a computer.

Greg grinned the minute he looked up from the keyboard and spotted her. “Hi.” Leaning to one side to peer around Tommy and the monitor he asked, “Where’s the princess?”

“With Josie in day care. She needs the extra money and I need a break.”

“You know I’d be glad to babysit any time you want.”

“Layla spends too much time at your place as it is. She must drive you crazy.”

“Not at all. She’s full of questions so she keeps me entertained.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “So does this guy. I’m teaching them how to paddle a kayak.”

“In the living room?”

“For now. Layla will have to be a lot older to do it for real. If I had one that held two people, maybe I could take turns giving the kids a chance to…”

“No,” Maya said flatly. “Absolutely not. You are not taking my child out in a tiny little boat like that and that’s final.”

“I’ll go!” Tommy piped up.

Laughing, Greg said, “Not for a while, okay?”

He went back to working on the computer and started typing while Tommy rolled his eyes, made a disgusted face and chose to make himself scarce.

Curious, Maya approached. “Have you had any word on that antique ring Jesse couldn’t find? I
know it’s a minor thing compared to all the losses that other folks have reported but it’s important to my family history.”

“There was a small gold and diamond ring turned in. Here. Let me pull it up.” He hit a few keys and a digital image appeared. “Is this it?”

Maya shook her head. “No. It’s close, though. The ring Jesse gave Marie is unique. I’m positive that’s not it. I can’t understand how it got separated from her wedding band and letter. They were all together before the tornado struck the house.”

“I’m surprised he found any of that stuff, considering.”

“Me, too. It originally was our great-great-many-times-removed-grandmother Emmeline’s, back in 1860.”

Maya had started to turn away when Greg said, “Speaking of losses, have you heard anything about your insurance claim?”

“No, why?”

He shrugged. “Just wondered. I happened to be driving down Logan Street the other day and there were men with cameras and measuring tapes going over your house inch by inch. I questioned them to be sure they were legit and they said they were the ones who’ll be making the official structural report.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I figured you knew.”

“No. Did they say how much longer it would take?”

“I didn’t ask that. In view of their workload, I suppose there’s no hurrying them.”

She sighed deeply and perched a hip on the far edge of the desk where he was working. “I suppose not. I’d just really love to be back in my own house.” Seeing his crestfallen expression she was quick to add, “I like the apartment. Really I do. It’s just that Layla needs a yard to play in and I want to feel at home.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? That place isn’t just a plain house to me. I bought it with my share of my parents’ estate, after Jesse bought out my third interest in the Circle L. I’ve always felt as if it was their gift to me. That probably sounds silly.”

“It’s not silly at all. Remember, my offer to help you make the repairs still stands.”

“It does?”

Greg began to frown. Getting to his feet he circled the desk and stopped close to Maya. “Of course it does. Haven’t you learned by now that my word is as good as any written contract?”

“I just thought…I mean…”

“I know exactly what you mean, Maya.” He reached for her hand and clasped it gently. “You and I have both been pretty confused since the storm shook everything up.”

“
I
sure have,” she replied, permitting him to hold her hand, enjoying every second of that contact.

“I thought things might be moving too fast, at
least they were for me, so I backed off to give you a chance to catch your breath.”

“Of course.” She wondered if he could tell that she was actually having trouble finding air just then. When Greg was this close, speaking this intimately, she felt as if she were floating, barely able to function. And certainly unable to force herself to put any distance between them.

“Let me help you with your house, the way we’d planned,” Greg said with a pleading lilt. “We can work together, build something solid and lasting.”

Maya wondered if he was still talking about lumber and plaster or if he might be referring to their relationship. Either way, she could not bring herself to rebuff him. One quick glance into his eyes and she was lost in the depths of his sincerity, his evident concern. And, if her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her, his affection.

“I’d like that,” she said, surprised to hear her voice quaver.

“Good. You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

“Of course not. My word is every bit as good as yours.”

“I’m certainly glad to hear that,” Greg said as he smiled slightly and leaned closer.

Maya might have retreated if he had not still held her hand. She could feel his warm breath on her face, see the tenderness in his gaze.

She closed her eyes, lids fluttering. For a second she was afraid he might back away.

Then, his lips brushed hers for the briefest moment and she knew her imagination had not even come close to portraying the wonder and beauty of their first kiss.

Only the unexpected appearance of other parishioners, and a giggle from the ever-present Tommy Jacobs, kept her from throwing her arms around Greg’s neck and asking for another.

Greg had loaned Maya his SUV a few times and didn’t know she’d found herself another vehicle until she drove up to his father’s estate while he was visiting there.

As she parked the compact maroon two-door in the semicircular drive that fronted the historic home and climbed out, her sunshine-yellow sundress and bright, joyful attitude reminded Greg of a Kansas spring morning.

He called a greeting from the porch. “Hi. Nice car. What brings you all the way out here? Were you trying out your new wheels?”

He watched her start up the limestone stairs that led from the drive to the first tier of lawn that had once been a formal garden. The spring-fed, decorative pond and fountain were now dry and grass had taken the place of the beautiful flowers his mother had always planted when she had been alive.

Maya was waving a handful of papers and grinning from ear to ear. “No. I was looking for you. I got the report and the insurance check. Already!”

“That’s great. Was it satisfactory?”

“I think so. I have no idea what materials cost.” She showed him the check. “Will this be enough?”

“Looks like it to me.”

She beamed. “Great. When can we go to work?”

“Whenever you want,” he answered, welcoming Maya onto the covered porch. “Would you like to come in?”

“I don’t know that I should,” Maya replied, seeming unusually reluctant. “Remember, your dad and mine never agreed on anything, especially about how to run the High Plains government, what little there is.”

“That’s all past history.”

“For you and me, maybe. Funny how things worked out, isn’t it? Our parents were political rivals not a bit friendly to each other, yet we do fine.”

He clasped her hand and was thrilled when she wove her fingers between his. “We do, don’t we? Where’s the princess this morning?”

“Vacation Bible School. Last time I saw her she was busy trying to explain the finer points of Christianity to Tommy—
and
to her teachers.”

“That must have been entertaining to watch.”

Maya grinned. “Actually, I had trouble keeping a straight face. Then, when I stopped to pick up my
mail and saw this settlement, I decided to come find you so we could celebrate together.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Greg was about to escort her around to the side of the house and show her a garden bench and trellis he’d just restored when the mahogany front door swung open and his father stepped outside. One look at the old man’s expression told Greg far more about Dan’s foul mood than he wanted to know.

“What’s she doing here?” Dan demanded.

“You remember Maya Logan, don’t you, Dad? She came looking for me.”

“Figures. She sure as blazes didn’t come to visit me.” He was wheezing as he spoke. “Doesn’t belong here, anyway.” Glaring at Greg, he added, “You should know better than to get involved with the likes of her. She tell you she’s got a kid and no sign of a husband?”

Positioning himself between Maya and his father, Greg said firmly, “That’s enough.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is, eh? Fine. Hang out with riffraff if it makes you happy. I can always cut you out of my will.”

“And leave all this to who?” Greg asked, gesturing at the three-story limestone mansion with its red metal mansard roof and vast array of outbuildings to match. He was so angry he was trembling. “You know what? I don’t care what you do. Sell everything and burn the money you get, for all I care.”

“Hah! You can’t fool me. You came back here to kiss up to me so you’d be sure I didn’t leave my estate to somebody else.”

“No,” Greg countered, standing stiffly to face the man he had once idolized, then come to despise. “I’m here because Michael told me how sick you were. I thought maybe you and I could finally make peace.”

“You never were worth a lick after your mama died,” Dan shouted, beginning to cough. As soon as he regained control and caught his breath he added, “I see you didn’t learn a thing in those fancy schools I sent you to.”

Slipping his arm around Maya’s shoulders Greg started to guide her away, to take her far from the vitriol his father was spewing. He could take that kind of harshness. He was used to it. But there was no excuse for Dan’s treatment of Maya.

All Greg said to her was, “I’m sorry.”

When she pulled away, she paused and gazed up at him to reply, “No. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I never should have come here.”

Clearly, she had been badly hurt by the old man’s words. It felt as if all the progress they had made in their budding relationship during the past few weeks had vanished in moments. Moments there was no way to erase.

How many others felt the same horrible way about her and Layla? Maya wondered, pacing her
apartment. How many were too polite or too Christian to say exactly what Dan Garrison had? Did she dare think there might be many? Was that fair, or was she borrowing trouble? Perhaps both.

She wanted to unburden herself to Reverend Michael but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Not now. Not yet. If he looked at her the way Greg’s father had, she didn’t think she could take that rejection.

Nevertheless, the urge to act, to do something to mend Greg’s rift with his father, was strong within her. Should she go back to the Garrison estate, face the old man and try to explain? Did she have enough courage? An even better question was, would Dan listen to her?