Circle of Family. Mia Ross

it. He hated to sound pathetic, like he was trying to convince her of what most people got right off the bat.

      So he settled for, “I’m glad they liked it.”

      He wondered if she’d enjoyed the show, too, but figured it would be lame to ask.

      “I also want to thank you for helping John clean up the tables and chairs last night,” she added. “He said it took half as long as he thought it would.”

      “No problem. Just pitching in where I could.”

      She didn’t say anything else as Ridge followed her up the front porch steps and through the double doors. From the large entryway, one arch led into the living room and another to an office.

      In direct contrast to the neat but lived-in look of the rest of the house, this room was ruthlessly tidy. Every surface was clear of papers, which he assumed were filed in the row of cabinets along the far wall. The walls were a fresh cream color, with family pictures from many generations scattered all around.

      One on the desk caught his eye, and he picked it up for a closer look. Anybody with half a brain could tell it was the Sawyers. All of them. Ridge had never met Matt’s parents, but he smiled at the happy family sharing a picnic somewhere. The little girl hanging over their father’s shoulder looked a lot like Emily, and he pointed to the grinning face.

      “Is this you?”

      Marianne glanced over, and a sad smile dimmed her features. “Yes. That was taken just before Mom got sick.”

      Her last good memory of her mother, Ridge realized with a frown. No wonder the little frame held the place of honor on her desk. Very carefully, he set it down and wandered over to the windows. One looked out over the front garden while the other framed the pond, making it seem like a landscape painting. Except for the sleek laptop and printer on the large desk, the scarred antique furniture appeared to have been here since the house was built.

      “Great spot.” He strolled over to admire her view of the pond. “Must be nice working in here.”

      “It is,” she replied as she sat down and opened a program on her computer. While her fingers clicked on the keys, she asked, “I know your name, but what’s your address?”

      “My mom’s will work.” Still focused on the pond, he started reciting it.

      “Wait a minute,” Marianne interrupted. “You don’t have an address?”

      Facing her, he shrugged. “Not really. Most folks get me through my cell or email.”

      “Where do you live when you’re not working?”

      “I’m always working,” he said, then grinned. “Or never working, depending on how you look at it. Grandpa always says if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. That kinda sums me up, so he got it engraved on a brass plate and mounted it on Betsy’s dash the day of our first flight. I don’t think he invented the saying, but— What?”

      She was shaking her head, looking truly appalled. Ridge was getting that gross specimen feeling again.

      After several uncomfortable seconds, she said, “I’m still trying to understand how a man your age with a successful business doesn’t have an address.”

      “Not everybody likes being rooted in one place.”

      He didn’t know why he felt compelled to defend his lifestyle to her, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t one to second-guess his choices, but for some reason this pretty, soft-spoken woman was beginning to mess with his confidence.

      “Meaning you think I do?”

      From the way she hurled the words at him, Ridge knew that despite his best efforts, he’d managed to insult her.

      “I assume so, with your kids and everything,” he said, trying to soothe whatever nerve he’d struck. “You grew up here, and you’re still here. That’s nice.”

      “For me,” she filled in, still challenging him. “But not for you.”

      “Settling doesn’t work for me.”

      “You think I’ve settled?” She jumped to her feet like he’d attacked her. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

      “I didn’t mean it like that.”

      He tried to explain that he’d meant settling down wasn’t right for him because, despite searching from coast to coast, he’d never found a place where he really wanted to stay. But he could tell she wasn’t hearing him anymore.

      Marianne ripped his check from the printer and signed it in a furious scrawl. After shoving it into his chest, she pivoted on her heel and stormed out.

      Chapter Three

      Marianne’s unforgivable outburst with Ridge followed her like a thundercloud all day. She’d been short-tempered and mean, which was very unlike her. Hard as she tried, she just couldn’t shake her dark mood. She knew perfectly well that he hadn’t intended to put her down or in any way suggest that her life was less fulfilling than his.

      Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t help lift her spirits. After a marathon session of laundry and housework to work off some of her frustration, she exhausted herself to the point where she felt more normal. Not entirely, but close enough to be better company.

      Later that afternoon feeling contrite for being so prickly, she let Kyle talk her into playing Monopoly. Most days, the long, involved game didn’t suit her very well because it gobbled up so much of her precious spare time. But her kids loved it, even though she wasn’t sure Emily totally understood the rules. As a teacher, Marianne recognized that the game was good practice for adding numbers and counting spaces. For the kids, the fact that they always beat her was a definite bonus, and she went along because it made them so happy.

      Today, it was the perfect way to apologize for her behavior without having to invent an explanation for it.

      “I’ll buy it,” Emily announced when she landed on her fourth railroad. She didn’t have enough money, but Kyle was the banker and he gave her the deed card and some “change” that would keep her in the game.

      Kyle loved to win, and Marianne was impressed by the generosity he’d shown his sister. She reached over to ruffle his hair, but he pulled away and she settled for an approving smile. When the screen door creaked open, she glanced up to find John coming in for his usual Sunday afternoon leftovers raid.

      “There’s more in the fridge on the side porch,” Marianne said as she tossed the dice for her next move. Counting out the spaces, she groaned when her impoverished terrier landed in front of Kyle’s hotel.

      “Welcome to the Boardwalk,” he crowed, holding out his hand. “Two thousand, please.”

      “Aw, man,” John sympathized. “How much have you got?”

      “Fourteen dollars.” She surrendered it and her piece to Kyle, who promptly buried the dog under the hotel that had bankrupted her.

      “Nice,” John chided him as he plunked himself down on the bench next to Kyle. “Nothing like having a heartless zillionaire in the family.”

      The comment rattled Marianne, and she prayed her son hadn’t inherited his father’s ruthless streak. If he had, she’d have her hands full reining it in. There was no way she’d just stand by and let him follow in Peter’s greedy footsteps.

      “I still have some money, Uncle John.” Emily waved two fifties in the air. “And I’m gonna pass Go on my next turn.”

      “Good for you, darlin’.” Crossing his arms on the table, he nudged Marianne’s elbow. “How’re you doin’?”

      Puzzled by the question, she leaned back and saw uncharacteristic concern in his eyes. “Fine. Why?”

      “You seemed off earlier today. Lisa