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Chapter Five
    Maggie rushed around the bedroom, hurriedly tossing on a white T-shirt and jeans. After a long weekend of her mind conjuring up the confrontation in the woods at the worst moments, and trying to dodge any and all probing questions during her girl’s night with Jolene, she’d been exhausted. And yet it had taken her so long to fall asleep that when she had finally managed to doze off, it had been into a deep, dreamless state. So deep, in fact, that she’d shut her alarm clock off without being aware of it and as a result had managed to oversleep.
    She was feeling just childish enough to blame it all on Hale Warrick.
    UPS would be here in less than ten minutes and she had to be ready to send off what she had and collect what he would bring. True, she could have done all of that in a bathrobe and slippers, but she took her business seriously, and that meant dressing every day by a certain time so she could start work.
    Pulling her hair back, she twisted a band around the brown mass then absently wiggled the ponytail up higher on her head. She slipped on her white canvas shoes, a compromise between house slippers and sneakers, and headed for the door. She paused on her way out, turning to stare at the tall chifforobe in the corner. Before she could change her mind she moved to it, reached into the back, and pulled out one of Chris’s old red flannel shirts. She slid her arms into it, enjoying the soft material on her skin and the warmth of the long sleeves. It was chilly today, and the well washed shirt would help keep her warm. The other reason, the one she didn’t want to delve too far into, was the fact that she needed to feel the closeness of a friend today.
    She left the room and trotted down the stairs, smiling when she stepped down into the kitchen. Even in her worst moods this space could always cheer her. The sun was shining through the windows, bouncing off the surfaces of the modern appliances and gray stone countertops. The herbs on the sills were green and lush, the hum of the refrigerator a mellow background noise. Even before they’d renovated the cabin this had been her favorite place, aside from the sewing room. She and her mother had spent hours here, making cookies, making dinners, making plans. It was the heart of the house and it still beat with a steady, comforting rhythm.
    She sniffed the air, sighing when the scent of coffee teased her nose. The timed automatic brewer was one of the best investments she’d ever made. She took down a thick blue mug and was filling it when the doorbell rang. Checking the clock, she saw the delivery was a few minutes early and her smile deepened.
    Abandoning her drink, she hurried around the counter and to the front door. When she opened it, the smile froze in place.
    “Good morning, Maggie Mae.”
    Standing there, looking annoyed and far too handsome, was Hale Warrick. Even casually dressed in a long sleeved gray shirt and black jeans he commanded attention. The morning breeze rustled through the trees, playing through his black hair before it whisked around her body with cool fingers. A gentle but firm reminder that she was standing there, once again, looking like a fool.
    She cleared her throat and stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in, Mr. Warrick.”
    He stopped beside her, his deep brown eyes intent. “Oh, I think you can call me Hale.”
    She tried not to sigh as he continued past. This was not a visit she’d anticipated, especially after their run in a few days before. If he expected a confrontation she certainly wasn’t going to oblige. What had happened—and not happened—in the woods spoke enough about their respective positions without any arguments. Hale liked women, and he’d obviously seen her as a vulnerable, available female. She wasn’t about to show, even by one small reaction, that she was remotely interested in him.
    Taking a deep breath, she closed the door and turned, watching as he prowled her home.