That McCloud Woman by Peggy Moreland Read Free Book Online Page B

toward the pond. In the gathering dusk, she saw him sitting
on the edge of the weathered pier that jutted out over the water's mirrorlike
surface. She stepped out onto the patio, closing the door softly behind her,
then stopped and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, her gaze still fixed on his
shadowed form.
    He
looked so lonely sitting there, staring out at the horizon … yet so
unbelievably sexy. A dangerous combination to her way of thinking. He sat with
one leg raised, an elbow hooked over his knee. His position placed a strain on
the back of his black T-shirt, pulling the knit fabric taut across his back.
Broad shoulders. Firm pads of muscle. She sighed as she traced the long, bumpy
path of his spine with her gaze until it disappeared beneath the waist of his
jeans. Maudie was right, she reflected lustfully. He is a good-looking hunk.
    And
she had about as much business thinking lusty thoughts as she did—well, she
didn't have any business thinking such thoughts about Jack Cordell, or any man,
for that matter. As a woman, she had nothing to offer Jack. But as a
psychologist, she reminded herself, she could possibly help him exorcize the
demons that had robbed him of his smile, and left him so bitter and withdrawn.
    Knowing
full well he probably wouldn't welcome the company, she headed for the pier.
    "You
missed a good dinner."
    His
shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice, but he didn't turn around. Nor did
he respond. She frowned at his back, but refused to let his indifference warn
her off. She started down the planked pier, feeling its slight roll beneath her
feet. "I think you would've enjoyed meeting Mandy's husband, Jesse, and
their son, Jaime."
    He
squinted his eyes, staring hard at the sliver of red sun that seemed to have
snagged on the peak of the highest hill. "I'm not much on
socializing."
    She
dropped down beside him, drawing up her legs and tucking the long hem of her
dress behind them. "So you've said." She angled her head to peer at
him. "Still, I think you'd enjoy meeting Jesse and Jaime. Molly and Billy
really like them, and they don't accept people easily." When he offered nothing
in return, she stifled a sigh of frustration and turned her gaze on the sunset,
too.
    The
sky was streaked with color—vibrant reds, soft purples, seductive blues.
    "Beautiful,
isn't it?" she said softly, enchanted as always by the dramatic display.
His noncommittal grunt won a frown from her—though she received little
satisfaction in making the gesture since he stubbornly refused to look at her,
or acknowledge her presence. Unwilling to let his indifference chase her away,
she turned her attention back to the horizon. Silence stretched between them,
broken only by the croaking of frogs along the bank and the musical call of
cicadas from the tall clumps of grass growing around it. The sounds brought
back a wealth of memories.
    "When
I was young," she said, smiling wistfully, "I used to spend my
summers here on the Double-Cross. All of the McCloud cousins would gather on
this very pier and wait for the sun to disappear behind the hills. It was quite
a sight. So colorful. So dramatic. Yet, so sad."
    "Sad?"
he repeated, cocking his head to the side to frown at her.
    She
met his gaze and smiled, pleased that she'd at last managed to pull a response
from him. "Yes, sad." She looked again at the distant hills, nodding
her head in that direction. "The sunset signaled the end of the day and
was a reminder that we were one day closer to having to say goodbye. That
always made us sad." She wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging her
legs to her chest, drifting for a moment in a pleasant sea of childhood
memories. "We were separated by hundreds of miles and sometimes we saw
each other only once a year, but we were very, very close." She turned her
cheek to the top of her knees and looked over at him. "Do you have
family?"
    He
squinted harder at the sunset, and a muscle flexed on his jaw. "Yeah."
    "Well…?"
she prodded. "A