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You’re not acting in the best interests of your children. Do
your in-laws know how arrogantly stupid you’re being?”
     Maggie rushed out
of the bank. How dare he bring her children’s interests into this as if she
didn’t consider them! And her in-laws shared no commitment to the land. Mason’s
mother had always believed it was beneath her son’s station in life to live on
a farm.
    Out on the
sidewalk, she breathed deeply and wished there was another bank in town. It was
very tempting to move all of her accounts to Walker. But that small community
was an eight mile drive out of her way. She grinned. Did Prater have any idea
she’d stashed the bulk of the life insurance money in the Walker bank?
    She could hear her
dad’s voice: “It’s often wise to divide your assets among several banks.” Had
he distrusted bankers in general, or Prater in particular?
    Glancing
over her shoulder, she saw Prater staring at her from his office window. She hastened
her steps. Why did that man seem so eager to get her to sell? Was it just the
commission?
    And why did she
mistrust him? He was a well respected member of the community. He supported
local charities, funded a high school scholarship, sat on the board of the
small, local hospital, and was a church trustee. The only knock against his
reputation was that he seemed harsher with area farmers in financial trouble than
with small businessmen. Whatever his motives, she was tired of him leaning on
her.

 
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    Maggie couldn’t get
away from him. He was too close; too much a man. They’d worked side by side for
two weeks refurbishing the barn, making plans for purchasing horses, and
developing a vision for the long term growth of Anderson Stables. Harrington had
proven to be a good teacher.
    Though he could be
gruff and sparse with words, he exhibited much more patience with her than she
had imagined possible. His knowledge of thoroughbreds and what was required to
turn them into competitive race horses was expansive. And her pulse quickened
when his eyes caught fire with the awe and thrill he clearly felt for the
challenge of horseracing. There was no question she’d hired the right man for
the job.
    But she couldn’t get
away from him. Snap! “Shit,” Maggie blurted, examining the spatula she used for
scraping dishes. She avoided glancing at Harrington, who was sitting at the
table finishing his last cup of coffee, oblivious to her turmoil.
    As was part of the
original agreement, he ate his meals with her family. But he also slept in the
same house and used the same bathroom. Hers was a farmhouse, not some expensive
home in the woods built by people trying to escape the city for fresh country
air.
    His scent invaded her
space; it was as simple as that. Not that they were unpleasant smells, but they
were man smells, and they were undeniably Harrington smells.
    Occasionally, she
would peek across the table or over a newspaper to find him staring at her. Seldom
would he turn away. Her privacy was compromised. He bothered her. Not on
purpose, she was sure. He probably never even noticed her discomfort.
     
    - o -
     
    Ed sighed heavily
watching temptation scraping dishes as if her life depended upon getting them
spotlessly clean before stacking them in the dishwasher. Thank God, the loft
would be ready to move into in another week. He hoped he could last that long. He
hoped they could last that long. He tried his best to ignore her, but
the damn woman was getting under his skin like a boil that wouldn’t go away.
    She was quick learner
and a hard worker; he’d give her that much. But she cooked too good. And she
was a fine, creative mom. It had been comical, at first, to see how she out
maneuvered her children, and then his heart wrenched as she patiently meted out
wisdom along with kindness and discipline. Too bad she hadn’t been around to
teach his folks about parenting.
    But she could be
cantankerous, stubborn, pesky, annoying and downright