by Sue MacKay
A smile that she chose to ignore as she stood up, stretching as tall as possible on her toes, which still left her well short of his chin. ‘Haven’t you left something out?’
‘Like what?’
Those eyes that had entranced him now appeared to be ready to slice him to shreds. He was about to get an earful. Her cheeks were reddening, her mouth tightening.
‘The bit where you will then be free to fly off into the sunset, knowing there’s nothing here for you to worry yourself over. Your nephew will be well cared for, and he won’t miss out on a thing because there won’t be any repairs to pay for. You’ll have done your bit for your family.’
His family? Yes, she certainly knew how to twist the knife. As he opened his mouth to explain that his nephew was better off being with her, she cut him off and added to his distress.
‘I will never sign any sale agreement you draw up. Never. Get it?’
Her forefinger stabbed his chest—hard. Strange how he wanted to wrap his hand around that finger and kiss the tip.
She hadn’t finished. ‘This is Mickey’s home until the day he doesn’t need one any more.’
She couldn’t have put it more bluntly than that. Yet he sensed a well of emotion and need behind her statement. What for, or why, he had yet to figure out. He’d also have to work harder on persuading her that his way was best for all of them. And the reasons she believed were not necessarily behind his thinking. Though she wasn’t entirely wrong about those either.
CHAPTER THREE
OF ALL THE STUBBORN, thoughtless, selfish men in the world, Logan Pascale had to be top of the pile. Karina bit down on the words threatening to spill off her tongue and headed out to the shed to find Jonty. The stubborn, thoughtless, selfish man followed her.
‘I need to replace that dressing for you,’ she informed the older man down on his knees trying to unscrew the broken handle of a spade. She’d do her best to ignore Logan for now.
‘They don’t make these handles like they used to,’ Jonty grunted.
Beside the old man Mickey sat on his butt in spilled potting mix. ‘I’m helping Mr Grumpy.’ He reverently held a pair of pliers in his hands.
Jonty didn’t look up as he said, ‘I don’t need the dressing changed. There’s nothing wrong with this one.’
The bolt suddenly flicked free and spun across the floor.
Mickey crawled after it. ‘I got it.’
Karina squatted beside Jonty. ‘You don’t want to get an infection.’
‘Pish. I’m healthy. No infection’s coming near me.’ The second bolt was giving him as much trouble as the first.
Logan hunkered down on his haunches opposite them. ‘How’d this break?’
Go away and leave us be. Her teeth snapped shut, sending vibrations through her skull.
‘Damned rocks,’ Jonty griped.
Karina wasn’t giving in. ‘Let me see that arm, please.’
The old man glanced at Logan. ‘Women, eh? Bossy creatures—think they know best.’
Logan laughed: a warm sound that briefly lifted her black mood.
Then he won points by saying to Jonty, ‘I know what you mean, but in this instance I think Karina’s right. An infection in your arm could be debilitating for some time. You might have to delay finishing that digging.’
Jonty’s knuckles were white as he tried to budge the bolt. ‘I guess.’
‘Here. Can I get that?’ Logan asked in an offhand manner that made it easy for Jonty to accept his offer.
‘You do that while Miss Bossy, here, does her nurse routine.’
Smothering a smile, Karina removed the dressing and cleaned Jonty’s wound. It would have been better doing it inside, but Jonty would never agree. ‘It’s looking good. You were very lucky not to have that spike go any deeper.’
‘I got two dozen eggs this morning,’ he muttered.
Good, there’d be some spare to trade for fresh bread at the bakehouse down the road. ‘They’re laying well, considering it’s winter.’
‘There you go.’ Logan handed back the screwdriver and a few screws.
‘You look like your brother.’ Mr Grumpy squeezed Logan’s shoulder. ‘Sorry about James, lad. We miss him and Maria around here.’
Weren’t men supposed to be reticent? Mr Grumpy had said more words in the last ten minutes than he often uttered in a whole day.
Karina taped on the new dressing and gathered up the old one. ‘There you go.’
‘Thanks, lass.’
‘Is Mickey okay with you until I’ve got lunch ready?’
Jonty rolled his eyes and took the spade minus its handle back from Logan.
‘That’s a yes, then.’
She thought Logan would remain in the shed, but he was quickly on his feet to go with her.
The problem with walking towards the house after having heard Logan mention maintenance was that she looked hard at the weatherboard walls and window frames. The paint was peeling in places, and some of the boards did show signs of rot. The putty around the glass panes had cracked and in places had fallen out completely.
‘Yeah, it does need an overhaul,’ she admitted grudgingly under her breath.
The guy had supersensitive hearing. ‘A major undertaking, involving a lot of time and effort to restore the whole building.’
She spun around, skidding on the sodden grass. His hand quickly caught her arm, steadied her, then instantly dropped away.
Rubbing the place where those strong fingers had gripped, she raised her head and told him, ‘Think about how wonderful this old building could look with a new coat of paint and those windows picked out in a shade of green to fit in with the grounds.’
The large grounds in which the lawns were mowed once a month, whether they needed it or not, summer and winter. And in which the trees should have been pruned and the wayward hedge needed cutting off at the roots.
Logan’s eyebrows were in danger of disappearing under that mop of dark hair. His flat mouth quirked up into an annoying smile. ‘You have a wonderful imagination.’
‘What are your plans? Are you in town for long?’
‘As long as it takes to make you see reason and get this place on the market.’
He didn’t half labour the point. The breath she dragged in chilled her bottom teeth. ‘Then you’ll be here a long time.’
Could she ask him to leave his half of the money in the property as a loan to her? No, she couldn’t. She’d only just met him, but she was over his incredulous glances already.
‘I’ll buy a lotto ticket tomorrow.’
‘Why not go easy on yourself and accept that selling is the right thing to do?’
Logan held open the back door and indicated she should go ahead of him. Heading directly to the bathroom, she dropped the small bag containing Jonty’s old dressing into the bin. Her head spun with retorts but she managed to keep the brakes on her tongue. He didn’t—and wouldn’t—have a clue how important a refuge this house was to her. Here, she was in charge and her opinion counted. Here, her family and her ex didn’t tell her what to do with her days.
Back in the kitchen, she got out the bread and margarine, some hardboiled eggs and lettuce, and began making sandwiches. The clock didn’t stop for Logan. She needed to get back to work.
When he parked his butt on the corner of the table, looking as if he had no intention of moving until he got his point across, she knew a moment of fear. What if he won this crazy battle and the house was sold out from under her? Would it be so bad to live in another house in Motueka? Yes, it would. Jonty wouldn’t be next door, griping and grumbling at her while he watered her vegetables, or complaining that he hated boiled carrots more than tinned peas and yet eating every last mouthful on his plate whenever she cooked his dinner—which was most n
ights else he’d starve. He’d never learned to cook; his late wife had been old-school and believed that was her role.
Another argument against Logan’s plan to sell was that the medical centre would have to shift. Or, worse, close down, forcing the patients she’d come to know to transfer to other centres.
Surreptitiously studying this stranger as she spread margarine, it shocked her to realise that he looked as though he belonged here. He had every right to be here. No denying that, much as she wanted to. But looking as if he fitted right in—that was too much to absorb. So she wouldn’t. She’d carry on the fight in the hope that eventually she’d get it through his very handsome skull that she meant every word she uttered.
Starting with: ‘You honestly think I should walk away from this?’ She waved her hand in the direction of the surgery through the wall. ‘Tell all the patients, “Sorry, but we’re not interested in looking out for you any more”? People don’t like change, Logan.’
‘Are you sure it’s not you that dislikes change?’
This man went straight for the heart of the matter every time.
She pretended she hadn’t heard him. ‘Especially the older folk. They know their doctor and nurse, and they trust them to know their backgrounds without having to delve into files for an answer about who their son is or where their grandchildren live. That sort of thing distresses them.’
‘Except the current locum’s only been here three months and plans on leaving within the next three. Where’s the continuity in that?’
He didn’t miss a trick, which sucked big-time.
‘I won’t change my mind.’ Her voice was rising and she didn’t care. This man riled her.
‘I’m getting the picture.’ He folded his arms over his chest, the movement diverting her gaze from his inscrutable face to those muscles that underscored the polo-necked jersey he wore.
‘So am I,’ she muttered, not quite sure whether she was referring to his stubbornness or his mouth-watering chest.
Either of them was a problem. Logan was nothing like his brother in physical shape or appearance. James had been of average height and had carried a bit more weight than was healthy. But he’d had an open face and oodles of kindness and generosity. She wasn’t sure where Logan was with those characteristics.
‘Where are you staying while you’re in Motueka?’
‘Here. That’s if you don’t kick me out on the street. I like the spare room at the back of the house.’
Wanting to say no to that idea didn’t mean she could.
‘There’s no space to swing a cat in there.’ It was tiny and filled with cartons that needed to be gone through. ‘It’s also an ice box, being so far from the fire in the lounge and the heat pump in the hall.’
But she knew nothing about this man.
‘It will suit me perfectly.’
‘What’s wrong with the room next to Mickey’s? It’s bigger and warmer.’
Why make him comfortable? If he didn’t like the room he might leave earlier than planned.
‘I figure I’ll be out of your hair down there.’ His eyes zeroed in on the sandwich she was making. Avoiding eye contact? ‘I noticed all the cartons. I’ll shift them into the other bedroom after lunch.’
‘They’re full of James and Maria’s personal belongings. I haven’t had the gumption to go through them. Anyway, I thought you should be the one to deal with James’s stuff.’
And I’ll keep putting off sorting through Maria’s until finally I can do it without instantly bursting into tears. If only I could throw everything away untouched.
‘I probably should.’ Logan sounded equally reluctant to tackle that issue. Which she couldn’t fault.
‘I’ll try to get around to it before I head away again.’
Since Logan seemed intent on steamrollering her opposition to selling they’d be at loggerheads the whole time and he’d probably be glad to leave sooner rather than later. Behind her back she crossed her fingers.
‘The wardrobe’s locked. It’s the only way to keep the door from bursting open and spilling files and books across the room.’ She tried one last time. ‘You sure you don’t want the other room?’
Those smoky grey eyes roamed the kitchen before returning to her. ‘The small one’s fine. Better than some places I’ve been lately.’ He sucked a quick breath on that.
‘I’ll find some linen.’
‘Karina, I don’t expect you to run around after me. I’ll make my own bed.’
‘What do you expect of me, then?’
‘To seriously consider my proposal to sell. In fact, you might as well come with me to see the real estate salesperson.’
‘I what?’ The knife slid out of her fingers and clattered onto the floor. ‘Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said?’
‘Have you listened to me?’ he asked, in a cool, calm tone.
What would rattle this man? Except for those moments when his eyes had looked everywhere except at her he’d remained in control, no matter what she’d said. Which was warning enough. She knew controlled and controlling men better than most.
‘I’ve heard every single crazy idea you’ve come up with so far!’ she yelled.
Get a grip. This is not the way to deal with him. Think about Mickey. That’s it. Sweet little man that he is, he needs you to bat for him, but sensibly, not like a shrew.
She tried to rein in her anger. ‘Maybe it would be better if you stayed in the motel down the road.’ It didn’t come out quite as calmly as she’d hoped, but it was an improvement.
Logan remained perched on the edge of the table, totally unperturbed at her outburst. ‘I want to have as much time as possible with Mickey before I head away again.’
She pounced. ‘And when might that be?’ Now she was repeating herself.
‘Probably not as soon as you’d like.’
Did his lips twitch? She’d swear they had, which was kind of deflating . If she wanted to be treated fairly then she had to do likewise.
‘I’m making one rule. We don’t talk about selling while you’re staying in this house.’
‘Karina, apart from seeing Mickey and sorting out some legal stuff with the lawyers over James and Maria’s wills, the only purpose of my visit is to sell. See it from my point of view. I can’t do a thing to help you around the house when I’m overseas. If you’re living in a new home I won’t have to worry about that.’
‘I see.’
He sounded too darned reasonable. Didn’t mean she was prepared to change her mind, though. Was she being selfish? Not at all. For her, this wasn’t about repairs and maintenance—it was about having a home. Not a house; a home. She’d had houses, mansions, and she knew how cold and impersonal they could be. She’d come to Motueka to turn around her life and find out what she really wanted for herself, and she had created a little world right here that would suit her for years to come. The thought that Logan wanted to take that away frightened her.
‘I don’t want you worrying about me. I’m not your concern. Only Mickey is.’
‘The way I see it, if you’re happy then so is my nephew.’
‘Then you’ve nothing to worry about. I’m happy living right here.’
Her tummy tightened. Huh? It’s true. I am. Aren’t I? I was until this morning. And I will be again, the moment Logan understands he’s wrong about this.
‘And if you’re really worried about the medical centre and the house, why don’t you move here permanently? You could share in making Mickey happy. He’d love to have you around the place.’
Logan didn’t bat an eyelid, didn’t have a fit as he had earlier when she’d suggested the same thing. ‘Give me some time to catch up on what happened with James, and get to know Mickey properly, and I’ll postpone that appointment with the agent.’
; ‘You’re bribing me now?’ She found a small smile for him. ‘Stay one month and I’ll listen to you at the end of that. I’m not saying I’ll go along with your plans, but we’ll discuss them then.’
And I’ll spend that whole month showing you why you’re wrong. I’ll also be busy finding the funds to buy you out.
‘Fine.’
Another twitch of those lips. Had he read her mind as easily as that?
Leaning back against the bench, Karina fought the need to study him while he stared at his feet. The expression on his lean face was sad and worried, as if he didn’t know where to go with any of this after all. Well, blow me over, rover. This guy has some serious issues.
Folding her arms under her breasts, she tried to deny the compassion building up for him. She couldn’t let it rule her head. Instead she needed to focus on what was best for Mickey. And then for her.
One thing was for sure: Logan Pascale would not be good for her. At all. Yes, but he would be great for one little boy who struggled to understand why his mum and dad didn’t walk in through the door at the end of the day as they’d used to.
* * *
Logan wanted to laugh, which was a surprise in itself. Karina was as transparent as clear water. He knew he was going to be hounded over the coming weeks. He should go and book into a motel immediately. But he’d play the game. He’d only been in this house a couple of hours and already he didn’t want to leave. The building was old and draughty, the windows rattled when the wind gusted, there was a bucket in the laundry, catching drips, and the carpets were threadbare. But, as Karina had said, it was a home—not just a house with two people rattling around in the vast spaces.
‘Lunch is ready.’ Karina pushed a plate laden with sandwiches across the bench towards him.
‘Want me to get Mickey?’
She nodded. ‘And Jonty.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’
