Second Chance Brides by Vickie Mcdonough Page A

She reminded him of Annabelle, and that was the last person he wanted to think about. How could he work with her day in and day out? Maybe he could get her trained and then stay away from the office. Study his law books more. But they had a business to run. He shook his head and pressed his lips together.
    “You don’t have to look so disgusted, Mr. Corbett.”
    She stuck her cute little nose in the air and glared at him. Wisps of reddish-brown hair had escaped the net thing that held most of her luscious hair curled around her pretty face. Now that he’d taken time to look at her directly in the face, he realized she really didn’t look all that much like Annabelle, other than her coloring. She was smaller, more petite, and younger—and dressed far more modestly.
    Using the desk as support, Miss O’Neil pushed to her feet. “I shall leave.”
    She took a step, grimaced, and dropped back down in the chair. Mark had to admit that she looked pretty when she was riled. But could he work with her, day after day, when she reminded him so much of his past?
    He ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. His past wasn’t her fault, and he wasn’t being fair. “You can stay.”
    But he and his brother would be having a heated discussion tonight.

C HAPTER 8
     

     
    S hannon sat stiff in the desk chair as Mark Corbett leaned over her shoulder, explaining the ledger books. With most of his right hand and half of his lower arm in a thick plaster casing, he couldn’t write and keep the records.
    Gathering her courage, she voiced a question. “Why does your brother not keep the books?”
    Mark’s lips pursed. “Garrett doesn’t have an eye for figures and accounting.”
    She wasn’t sure she did, either, but now that she was here, she would learn. She had to. Her independence and her very life depended on it. Having two unmarried men support her was humiliating and certainly not proper.
    “So, does that make sense to you?”
    Shannon’s heart leapt. What had he just said? She’d been lost in her thoughts and not following along. “I…uh…”
    Mark rubbed his hand across his cleanly shaven jaw and heaved a sigh. “Look, it’s fairly simple when you’ve done it a while.”
    After his initial outburst, Mark seemed resolved to have her there, but she felt if he had his druthers, she wouldn’t be. And if she could have walked out with dignity, she’d be gone. But Garrett hadn’t taken her hint about leaving; in fact, he left without her, leaving her alone with his brother.
    Shannon held her trembling hands in her lap. Every time the man came close, she shivered like she had in the frigid hull of that ship that had brought her family to America. To their deaths.
    Mark opened a ledger book about two feet wide, sending up the scent of leather and old paper. He riffled through the large pages and stopped at the last page with entries. The date was two days before the tornado had hit.
    “All right. In this book we keep track of each individual transaction, each thing someone orders. That’s the file box over there where we file the order forms when we’re done.” He pointed to a rectangular metal holder sitting on a counter against the wall. The box had sheets of yellow paper standing upright in it, separated by metal dividers. “We record what each person has ordered on an ongoing basis.”
    She tried to wrap her mind around what he’d said, but she failed to see how the ledger and file box were different.
    He moved around and sat on the edge of the desk, cradling his wounded hand with his other one. His cast looked awkward and uncomfortable. “Do you understand? If you don’t, ask questions.”
    He stared at her. Oh, she had questions, but she hadn’t learned enough to voice what they were yet. Maybe if he explained some more, she’d catch on.
    He scratched his head and stared out the window. Shannon took a moment to study him. His jawline was more finely etched than his brother’s, and his nose