I’m going to help you.
Jared’s promise floated through her mind automatically.
“I don’t need help,” she whispered softly. “I’m used to doing everything myself.”
She blinked to keep her tears at bay. Crying wasn’t going to resolve her problems. If only she didn’t feel like she was failing her mom by losing the shop and the home she’d lived in since she was born.
Chin up, sweetie. Everything will look better in the morning.
She swore she could actually hear her mother’s voice in those words. It’s exactly what she would have told Mara if she were alive right now. Unfortunately, her mom was gone, and unable to give her advice on exactly how to handle her problems. Her life was going to have to change drastically. She needed to change careers, and probably leave the familiar atmosphere of Amesport. She’d been a doll maker from an early age. What kind of job did that qualify her for?
I’ll find something. I’ll have to.
Mara felt more alone than she had in her entire life, and it was going to be hard not to let the profound emptiness she was feeling swallow her whole.
CHAPTER 3
Jared cursed himself for wearing yet another pair of casual leather shoes as they became saturated from walking across the large, grassy field. “I’m going to need to buy my damn shoes in bulk if I can’t get over my obsession to see her,” he whispered irritably under his breath. “Who the hell gets up at the crack of dawn just for a farmers’ market?”
Apparently, Mara did.
Sarah had mentioned that Mara came to the Amesport Farmers’ Market every Saturday to sell products. That was all it took for Jared to decide he needed to investigate his first farmers’ market. So here he was, traipsing across a wet field before Brew Magic even opened in the morning. So far, he was less than impressed by this particular Amesport event.
He needed coffee.
He needed his breakfast.
And he needed to have his head examined. Desperately.
As he ducked underneath a rope that was acting as a temporary fence for the market, he admitted to himself that he had to see her, had to know that she was doing okay after the news she’d gotten about losing her home. He hadn’t completely worked out the details of exactly how to help her yet, but he would. Hell, he could very easily set her up for life with funds and not notice a dent in his net worth. But he’d scratched that idea almost immediately, knowing Mara well enough to realize she’d probably starve before she took money she hadn’t earned. If she was already determined to solve her problems on her own, there was no way she was going to take his money.
He had to admit, the idea that a woman didn’t want his money was . . . strange.
Wanting to fuck her as desperately as he did, making some kind of sexual arrangement had also been a possibility, but he knew she wasn’t about to accept that, either. To be honest, the thought was actually distasteful to him for some reason.
Because I want her to want me as much as I want her. I need her to give herself to me just because she wants me.
It was another weird thought. When the hell had he actually cared why a woman screwed him?
“The market doesn’t open until seven,” an older gentleman called to Jared as he unloaded vegetables onto tables from his truck.
“I’m here to help a friend,” Jared answered, annoyed.
The man nodded slowly, a doubtful look on his face as his eyes moved over Jared.
Did he look that damn useless? Okay, maybe he didn’t look ready to work at a farmers’ market. He had deliberately dressed in casual clothing, but he guessed a pair of designer tan slacks and a dark blue button-down shirt wasn’t the usual farmers’ market attire. Nothing fancy, but he still stuck out like a sore thumb compared to other men wearing old jeans and T-shirts that were already dirty, and sweating and disheveled from setting up their sales tables for the day.
You usually look immaculate and perfect.
Mara’s words drifted back to him, and he wondered if looking immaculate and perfect was good or bad. Mostly likely, he did look different. In his world, he was dressed casually. For Amesport, he probably looked like a billionaire snob, and for some reason that bugged the hell out of him. He used to like doing manual labor, getting sweaty and downright filthy. There had been a certain satisfaction in feeling his muscles burning after working all day. Suddenly he missed that sensation and the pleasure of accomplishing something he thought was important.
“Jared! Yoo-hoo! Over here!”
His head turned sharply to the right as he heard a high, singsong female voice calling him. Smiling as he spotted Beatrice Gardener waving her arms in the air to get his attention, he made his way around other booths to the elderly woman.
“Beatrice,” he acknowledged as he stood in front of her table and smiled at her. “Are you sure it’s healthy to actually be up this early in the morning? What are you doing here?” It was a dumb question. Judging by the table in front of him, which was loaded with crystals, she was here to peddle her wares. She had polished stones and jewelry, some of it obviously from her Natural Elements store. Jared considered it a New Age store, but Beatrice had once told him she was a student of all philosophies and religions, and she was an original. In the weeks since he’d been here, and judging from the conversations they’d had, she was definitely unique. His eyes ran over her long, pink shorts, sneakers, and T-shirt with her store logo emblazoned on the front. “Where’s Elsie?” Where Beatrice was, Jared could usually find Elsie Renfrew. The two old ladies seemed almost inseparable.