Then he’d shattered that lovely dream by not even bothering to give her a duty proposal. She frowned to herself and realized just how hard it was to love a man who had no idea how she felt.
“No,” she said tightly. “He didn’t propose and it’s not likely to happen anytime soon.”
“Why ever not?” Cara wanted to know. “He’s given you a baby, the least he can do is make you a wife.”
Maura chuckled in spite of the situation. “You know, for someone who claims to be a very modern woman of the world, you sounded remarkably like an old grandmother just then.”
Cara frowned. “Being modern is one thing. Watching my sister be a single mother is another altogether. Besides, Maura, you love him.”
Maura’s gaze snapped to her sister, who was looking tired and near half-asleep. And why shouldn’t she? Cara was balancing a waitressing job in Westport while coming back to the farm nearly every day to film her small role in Jefferson’s movie. Her sister was smart, talented and far too knowing about some things.
“I’ll thank you to keep that piece of news to yourself,” Maura told her. “Besides, I’ll not have his pity and that’s all it would be if he pretended to love me now. Or worse yet, if he were appalled at the notion. So mind your tongue, Cara.”
Clearly insulted, Cara drew her head back as if she’d been slapped. “As if you need tell me. I’m your sister, aren’t I? Would I side with a Yank against my own blood?”
Mollified a bit, Maura nodded and put her attention back to the task at hand. She could learn to forget him, she told herself. She would content herself in the future with her farm and her child and one day, the man she loved would be no more than a fond memory she indulged in on lonely nights. For now though, Jefferson had work and so did she. And hers, she thought, was more pressing than contracts or actors or the placement of a camera.
She had a total of six lambs so far this season who needed to be hand-fed. There were two pens holding the little ones, who snuggled together to sleep in a pile beneath heat lamps that kept the spring chill away. A few had been abandoned by their mothers for whatever reason a sheep might deem reasonable. Happened every year, a ewe would give birth and simply stroll away from the lamb, ignoring its bleating calls.
The others were simply too small to be left alone with their mothers, so the ewes were penned nearby so the lambs could nurse as well as get extra nutrition from a baby bottle. The tiny, warm bodies were a constant wonder to Maura. They were so small, so helpless when new that it was difficult to remain detached, as she must. Since most of the lambs would be sold off and—
“You should be the one to tell him at any rate,” Cara said and reached for one of the lambs. Grabbing up an extra bottle, she cuddled the pure white baby and smiled at the hungry sounds it made as it fed.
Her sister might have her sights set on acting, but Cara was born and bred a farm girl and knew what needed doing without being told. And for a few minutes, the two sisters enjoyed the stillness. Outside, the storm had passed, leaving only the sound of water dripping from the roof edges and the ever-present wind rattling the shingles.
“He’s staying in one of the trailers, you know.”
“What?” Startled, Maura looked her sister in the eye.
“I said, Jefferson is staying in one of the trailers.”
Maura threw a look at the closed barn doors as if she could see through them to the yard outside. “You mean now? He’s living out there? In the street?”
“In one of the trailers, yes.” Cara smiled and stroked the lamb as she fed it. “Everyone else left hours ago, headed off to the B & B and some into Westport. But Jefferson is staying here. Said he wanted to be close. Why’s that, do you think?”
She didn’t know. And couldn’t guess. Oh, she didn’t like that. She’d hoped he’d be off to the city and give her some breathing room. How was she supposed to relax into her routine if she knew he was less than a hundred feet from her own front door? Her insides were fluttering and she knew it wasn’t the baby moving as that hadn’t happened yet. No, it was her child’s father setting off swarms of butterflies in the pit of her belly.
“He can’t stay there.”
“Of course he can.” Cara tipped her head to one side and studied her older sister. “They’re his trailers, after all. And you did give him leave to park them there.”
“Not to live in!”
Cara laughed. “Look at you. Just knowing he’s close by has put color in your cheeks and a shine in your eyes.”
“That’s just anger is all.”
“It’s not, no,” her sister said. “Honestly, Maura, must you be so stubborn at all times? You’re flushed over him and you say you don’t want him? You’re having his baby, for goodness’ sake. Why shouldn’t you be married to the man?”
“She will be.”
Both women jolted at the sound of the deep voice. They turned as one and stared at Jefferson as he stepped into the warm barn and closed the door behind him. He wore black jeans, a dark red pullover sweatshirt and heavy black boots that were as scuffed as the floor of the barn. His hair was windblown across his forehead and his mouth was a firm, grim line. The overhead lights were harsh and bright and cast unforgiving shadows over his face until he looked like some pirate with danger on his mind.
Maura’s heart did a slow roll in her chest and a deep, throbbing ache set up shop low in her body. Would he always have this kind of effect on her?
“She will be what?” Cara asked.
“I said, your sister will be marrying me.” Jefferson walked toward them, sidling past idle machinery and stacks of baled hay on one side of the barn. As he neared the closed-off area, one of the ewes scuttled nervously in her pen. He looked at all of the animals crowded together, then shifted his gaze back to Maura. “As soon as we can manage it.”
Amazing how quickly fire could turn to ice. Here then was her “proposal.” A demand from a man who clearly expected her to jump through hoops when ordered to.
“No, I’m not,” Maura told him, wishing the barn were bigger. Wishing she were back in the house behind locked doors. Wishing Jefferson had never returned to Ireland. What a sorry mess.
If he thought that was a proposal, he was sorely lacking. Step into her barn and issue commands as though he actually were a king. Was he so full of himself that he expected her to fall in line with whatever he wanted? Did he really think her such an easy woman as all that?