Secretly Yours (The Wild McBrides 2) - Page 6

The money wouldn’t have made any difference, she assured herself, still convinced she’d made the right decision. But at least a little forewarning would have kept her from being so overwhelmed by the financial reality of owning an old, neglected house.

Realizing that Trent was studying her intently, and that she must have been standing there frowning for several long moments, she smoothed her expression. “Thank you all the work you’ve done, and especially for fixing my step. I feel much safer on it now.”

He answered in a growl. “It was an accident waiting to happen. You’re lucky you haven’t broken your neck.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing special you want me to do here today?”

She was beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer when he surprised her by saying, “I’m out of clean socks. You can do a load of laundry, if you have time.”

She smiled, pleased that he’d made a request for a change. “Sure. No problem.”

“Lock up when you leave,” he said, turning abruptly away.

“Yes, I will. And Mr. McBride, I—”

Whatever she might have said faded into silence when he left without another word. He was walking stiffly today, she noted. Had he hurt himself working at her place Tuesday? She couldn’t help worrying about those injuries Martha Godwin had hinted at, but she suspected Trent wouldn’t appreciate personal questions.

Since she was no more interested in answering personal questions than he probably was, she decided she had better just mind her own business.

IT HAD BEEN a long time since Trent had been drawn out of his own problems enough to be actively curious about anyone else. But as he sat on Annie Stewart’s roof, pounding nails into loose shingles, he found himself wondering about her. He knew why he had chosen to live a hermit’s life during the past year—mostly because he hadn’t known what else to do—but what was Annie’s story? What had brought her to Honoria? Where was her family?

She seemed intelligent enough and he would be willing to bet she was well educated. So why had she chosen to clean houses for a living? Had she no other goals, no plans? No dreams?

Had her dreams, like his, been taken away, leaving her lost and aimless—a condition he knew all too well?

“I had a feeling I would find you up there.”

Frowning, Trent pushed his glasses higher on his nose and looked over the edge of the roof. His brother stood on the ground below, his hands on his hips as he gazed upward. “You should know better than to sneak up on a guy who’s alone on a roof.”

“And you should know better than to be alone on a roof. You want to risk ending up in a wheelchair again?”

Trent hated being reminded of his limitations. “You’re the one who told me Annie’s roof leaked. I’m fixing it.”

“I also told you I would help you.” Trevor planted a foot on the bottom rung of the ladder propped against the side of the house.

Trent suddenly realized that his brother wore jeans and a sweatshirt rather than his usual suit and tie. “Don’t you have to work today?”

Joining him on the roof, Trevor shook his head. “Nope. I took the day off. Mental-health day. I don’t have to be in court, and all my appointments can wait until next week. Jamie’s teaching, Sam’s in school and Abbie’s with the nanny. Today is all mine.”

“So you decided to spend it on Annie’s roof.”

Trevor shrugged and reached for an extra hammer from Trent’s toolbox. “I decided to spend it with you.”

/> Trent had to make an effort to grumble. “I’m having dinner at your house this evening. Isn’t that enough family togetherness for you?”

Unoffended, Trevor moved to a curled shingle and examined it. “The roof really needs to be replaced altogether.”

Remembering Annie’s cautious look when she’d offered to reimburse him for supplies, Trent shrugged. “I don’t think she can afford that right now. I’m patching the leaks as well as possible until she can have the whole job done.”

Trevor reached for a handful of roofing nails. “Having any trouble with your back?”

His back ached every time he stretched and bent, actually, but he had gotten used to pain. On a scale of one to ten—and he was all too well acquainted with ten—he considered his current discomfort a six. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Just be careful not to overdo it.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Mom.”

Trevor made a production of looking horrified. “God forbid.”

Tags: Gina Wilkins The Wild McBrides Romance
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