Out of Exile by Carla Cassidy Page B

was to get back to the ranch and get some much-needed distance from Lilly. In just the brief time he’d spent with her today, renewed desire for her had reawakened with a vengeance.
    Within minutes Matthew was parked in front of the grocery store, and Clara disappeared inside. Matthew got out of the car and walked to a bench in front of the store and sat down. A moment later, to his irritation, Lilly joined him there.
    â€œAunt Clara’s pride has taken quite a beating,” she said, and stretched her tanned, slender legs out before her.
    Matthew didn’t reply. He focused his gaze toward the street as tension welled up inside him.
    â€œWhy don’t you call her Aunt Clara?”
    â€œExcuse me?” Despite his reluctance, he turned to look at her. “What are you babbling about?”
    His words seemed to do nothing to deter her. “Aunt Clara,” she replied. “You always refer to her as just Clara.”
    â€œAnd your point?”
    She shrugged. “Just curious.” Her gaze lingered on him. “You don’t like her very well, do you?”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous. She’s an old woman. She’s my aunt. Why shouldn’t I like her?” he countered.
    â€œI don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. You seem cold and distant with her.”
    â€œLilly, not everything is deep and psychological, and I think the biggest problem you have is that you think far too much.”
    â€œYou’re probably right,” she agreed easily. “I’ve always thought too much…especially about the people I care about. But you wouldn’t know about that, right?” There was an edge of sarcasm to her tone.
    Matthew leaned his head back and drew a deep breath. The woman was absolutely impossible. “Lilly, I don’t want to fight with you,” he said wearily.
    â€œAnd I don’t want to fight with you,” she replied softly. She touched his arm, her eyes beseeching as she gazed at him. “I’m worried about you, Matthew. You seem so angry all the time.”
    â€œHell yes, I’m angry.” He stood, unable to sit another minute. “Somebody has spray-painted cottages, stolen property and tried to poison my horses. I’d say I have a right to be angry.”
    â€œYes, you do,” she replied and also stood. “As long as your anger is directed in the right place. What worries me is that I don’t think it is.”
    Again she placed a hand on his arm and this time he grabbed it and held it away from him. He knew she had no idea that her simplest touch was torture for him, stirred a desire that suffocated him with need.
    â€œYou’re right, Lilly. I’m an angry man, and the best thing you can do is stay away from me. Stay the hell out of my head and out of my life.” He released her hand and walked back to the car.
    He climbed into the driver’s seat, grateful that she hadn’t attempted to come after him, but had disappeared into the store.

Chapter 7
    â€œT ell me about your father,” Lilly said to Johnna the next day. The two women had been working together for the past hour, finishing up the painting in the last guest cottage.
    Johnna looked at her in surprise. “Why on earth would you want to know anything about him?”
    Lilly shrugged and scratched the end of her nose with the handle of her paintbrush. “Matthew mentioned that he was difficult.”
    â€œThat’s a surprise. Matthew never talks about Father. And if he told you Father was difficult, then he managed to utter the understatement of the century.”
    Johnna set her paintbrush down, stretched her arms overhead, then frowned at Lilly. “He was a mean man, Lilly. I can’t remember a day of my childhood that I wasn’t afraid. We were all afraidall the time. Of course, Matthew probably wasn’t as afraid as the rest of us. He was the good son, pouring father his drinks