That Mccloud Woman. Peggy Moreland

on how repairs should be made that could drive a remodeler straight up the wall. He just hoped that when he stripped off that paper, he didn’t discover that it had been hung to cover up some problem, like termite or water damage. While he was thinking this, he felt a featherlight touch on his arm, then it was gone and Alayna was turning away, saying, “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

      Jack followed her, unconsciously rubbing a hand at the tingling sensation she’d left on his arm.

      “The fireplace in the living room was sealed off years ago,” she explained as she led the way to the front of the house. “I’d planned to open it and make it functional again.” She paused in the archway that opened to the large living room. Jack stopped beside her, stealing a glance her way, and saw that she had her arms hugged up beneath her breasts in an oddly protective way. “But I’m afraid,” she said with a disappointed sigh, “that this is one of the luxuries I’m going to have to forego in order to stay on budget.”

      Jack turned his head to follow her gaze... and the craftsman in him all but drooled at the sight before him. A huge limestone fireplace dominated the opposite wall, its white stone front stretching a good twelve feet from floor to ceiling. Embedded in the stone above the fireplace’s dark opening was a hand-hewn cedar mantel, polished with care and age. Jack’s heart swelled at the amount of time and skill that had gone into the overall design, but it quickly took a nosedive when his gaze hit on the gas space heater wedged in the firebox where logs should be resting, waiting for the flare of a match.

      Leaving Alayna standing in the doorway, he crossed the room and knelt down before the hearth. He leaned over, bracing his hands on the uneven stone, and looked up, craning his neck so that he could see up the flue. Sure enough, weathered boards sealed off the chimney. He poked at the boards almost wistfully, thinking of the waste...and, too, of the disappointment he’d heard in Alayna’s voice when she’d told him she was going to have to forego re-opening the fireplace in order to stay on budget. He straightened, dusting soot from his hands. “I can open her back up,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

      “ ’Course I’ll check out the chimney and flue to make sure that everything’s in working order first. But I won’t charge you any extra for my time.”

      “Oh, no!” she cried, hurrying across the room. “I can’t allow you to do the work for free.”

      Jack frowned as he looked down at her, seeing nothing but a deep, blue pool of compassion in her eyes. The idea that she would think of his needs, and not her own, baffled him. In his opinion, and based on his personal experience, the gentler sex was, as a rule, selfish and demanding. Was this woman real? he asked himself. When he felt himself being sucked deeper and deeper into her gaze, drawn by the compassion he saw in her eyes, he backed away from her.

      “Not much work involved,” he insisted briskly. “Somebody along the line probably just got tired of cutting wood and sealed off the fireplace, choosing instead to use gas to heat the room.” He gave an impatient gesture with his hand. “Let’s see the rest of it.”

      Thankfully she let the subject drop. With nothing but a curious glance in his direction, she led the way to the stairway.

      “The master bedroom is downstairs,” she explained over her shoulder, “but Frank finished all the remodeling there before he left. You’ll need to focus on the rooms upstairs.” The soles of her sandals scraped lightly on the oak-planked stairs as she climbed higher, drawing Jack’s gaze to her feet.

      He stood at the bottom step, his eyes sliding up over her ankles and to the gentle curve of her calf. A warmth crawled up his neck and down to his groin as her elevated position on the stairway above him revealed more and more of her bare legs to him.

      And he silently prayed she was wearing panties.

      He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he discovered she wasn’t. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman in the biblical sense, and he didn’t know if he had the willpower needed to resist the sight of so much tempting flesh. He swallowed hard, paralyzed as much by the feelings of lust building as he was by the sight before him. He tried to remember the last woman who had stirred thoughts like these, but quickly gave up. It had been way too long.

      “Upstairs,” she said, lifting a hand from the rail to gesture above her, “are four more bedrooms.” On the landing, she turned to look back at Jack and stopped when she saw that he was still standing in the hallway below. “Are you coming?”

      “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky, staring at her and trying his damnedest not to think about those panties. The idea that he’d even think about a woman’s panties was a relatively new one, and a definite improvement over his thoughts for the last several months. This woman was pushing buttons and getting a response to hankerings he was sure he’d lost long ago.

      Could this be the end of his wanderings?

      He cleared his throat, and started up the stairs. “Yeah,” he said with more enthusiasm, thinking he might have just landed himself in heaven—or hell, depending on how the situation turned out. “I’m right behind you.”

      Alayna waited until he’d caught up with her, then opened a door on her left. “I don’t plan to do anything too major in here,” she explained. “Just freshen things up a bit. Paint. Drapes. Maybe add shelving for toys and such.”

      Jack’s head snapped around at the mention of toys. “You have kids?”

      At the question, the smile that seemed her constant companion melted right off her face. She glanced away from him and to the far window with its view of the pond. “No,” she replied with what almost sounded like embarrassment. Then she forced her chin up and a confident smile to her lips as she turned her gaze back to his. “At least, none of my own.”

      Jack felt the blood drain right out of him at the hope he saw in her eyes. And just when he was beginning to feel a little interest, a little heat in the old furnace, she had to go and mention kids. A damn shame, too, he thought sadly, admiring the sway of her hips as she walked away from him and across the room. She was a beautiful woman. Sexy. Friendly.

      And convenient.

      He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. But he wasn’t getting involved with a woman who wanted kids. Not Jack Cordell. No how, no way.

      Two

      While Jack was bemoaning his bad luck with women, a horn blasted outside and Alayna hurried to the window and peered down below. One look and she cried, “Oh, no!” then whirled and ran past him.

      Wondering what she’d seen that had put that horrified look on her face, Jack crossed to the window and looked down. A yellow school bus was parked out front, its caution lights blinking.

      Jack’s stomach clenched at the sight of the small faces pressed against the windows.

      As he watched, unable to move, the bus’s doors folded back and a book bag came sailing through the door. A small boy appeared next, one shoulder hunched up defensively against the bus driver who was shoving him down the steps in front of him.

      Every muscle in Jack’s body tensed, poised for flight.

      He had to get out of there.

      But before he could make good his escape, Alayna appeared on the front lawn below him, the skirt of her baggy dress whipping around her legs as she raced toward the bus. Jack shifted his gaze back to the little boy. He couldn’t hear what the bus driver was saying to the kid, and didn’t want to hear. He wanted out in the worst sort of way. Out of this house. Out of this town.

      He just plain wanted out.

      You have my word I’ll see the job done.

      Jack groaned, leaning to plant his hands against the window’s sill and his forehead against its glass as his words came back to haunt him. He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d given his word. And Jack Cordell never backed down once he’d given his word.

      He opened his eyes with a frustrated