Mountain Wild (Harlequin Historical Series) by Stacey Kayne

to her in those horrifying moments than in the seven years they’d been together. But it was his last words that haunted her.
    I’m sorry, Maggie. You’d have been a good mother.
    It was the only time she’d known him to be wrong. Over the years she’d realized her yearning for a baby had been the selfish dreams of a child. It wasn’t that Ira hadn’t cared for her—she knew he had. He hadn’t wanted to tell her the plain truth; no child deserved to have Mad Mag as a mother.
    “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
    Garret’s voice startled her from her thoughts.
    “No matter who he is, I won’t think any less of you, Grace.”
    Yes, he would. How could he not? It was the nature of folks to shun what wasn’t familiar to them.
    “Do you think he’s coming back?”
    “Oh, I don’t think so.”
    “Then you’ve got no reason to stay up here. Crafty as you are with a needle, you could find work in any town. I bet you’d be a real star at one of them lady sewing parties.”
    There wasn’t a lady within a hundred miles who’d sew with the likes of her.
    “You can’t be much over twenty. Hardly an old maid.”
    Was he blind? So she’d brushed her hair and put on a flowery shirt…she was still a wild woman in britches and well past the age of courting. There wasn’t a town that would accept her, old maid or otherwise. Which suited her fine. “I’m well beyond twenty and have been choosing my own way since long before you were dressing yourself.”
    His expression darkened. “That’s rot. You’re young enough that you could remarry and have a family.”
    He didn’t know the first thing about her or her failures as a woman. Her daddy had insisted she learn the delicate arts of a lady, but she’d since learned that it didn’t take a delicate lady to stitch pretty flowers. Her life before Ira had been a lie. He’d taught her to depend on no one but herself. She didn’t sit around and bellyache over her lot in life. She made an honest living. She worked hard.
    “I think you’d find—”
    “I think you should shut the hell up! ” Her voice shouted back at her from the stone ceiling and startled Boots from his sleep. “What makes you think I give two wits about what you or anyone else thinks of me?”
    The caution in his expression made her wish she could suck her defensive words back into her mouth. “You’re right. I was prying. I apologize.”
    Heat stung her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have sworn at you.” He couldn’t know how his foolish suggestions had hurt her. There wasn’t a man who’d want her and she’d long since let go of her yearning for a child.
    “You don’t have to tiptoe around me, Grace. Wasn’t myplace to make assumptions about your life. If my yammering is wearing on you, you’re more than welcome to tell me to shut the hell up.”
    Good Lord, but he was sweet. Maggie couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t yammer. You may not believe it, but I was raised to be polite.”
    “I was raised by my shouting and swearing older sister,” he said with a grin. “I don’t offend easily, sweetheart. And you did save my life. I can’t think of anything more polite than that.”
    Maggie stared up at his gentle gaze, not having heard anything beyond sweetheart. It occurred to her that she may have been intrigued by Garret from a distance, but up close, he was devastating. The sincerity in his eyes made her yearn for things she shouldn’t. He made her want to be the woman he’d kissed and called beautiful. His lack of intent didn’t erase the memory of his kiss or the sweet ravaging of sensation she’d felt while in his arms.
    Boots scratched at the door.
    Garret cleared his throat and looked away. He drew a deep breath as though suddenly winded and set his stitching aside before pushing to his feet. “You ready for a walk?”
    Maggie expelled a hard breath, trying to release the wild stir of sensations as she watched him shrug into his coat.
    Tomorrow he’ll be gone and none