Just Her Type Read Free Page B

Luke, she turned. Douglas sat at the table, which took most of the room. A sofa huddled under the window. The door to her bedroom could not be opened if the one at the top of the stairs was ajar. Rungs, nailed to the wall, led up to the tiny loft where Douglas slept. It was nothing grand, but it was the home she loved.
    â€œHonest about what?” she asked.
    â€œHe said he’s working here.”
    â€œI guess he is.”
    Pain flashed across Douglas’s freckled face. “I thought I was your assistant, Ma!”
    With a smile, she patted his shoulder. A year ago, she would have hugged him. Now he would squirm away, reminding her he was not a baby. Douglas was growing up, but she did not want him to grow away from her. He was all she had.
    She laughed. “He’s going to be the devil.”
    â€œThe devil?”
    â€œPrinter’s devil. An apprentice in a print shop.”
    â€œApprentice?” He remained unconvinced. “He’s a man.”
    â€œI noticed.” She wondered how she could be embarrassed by her own words. She went back to the stove and began stirring again. When Luke had stared at her candidly, she had enjoyed being feminine more than she had since … Shaking her head, she realized Douglas was waiting for her to continue. “Luke Bradfield knows less about printing than you do.”
    â€œThat’s probably true,” answered a deeper voice.
    She saw Luke framed by the door to the stairs. How long had he been there? Not long. Douglas would have noticed.
    â€œSmells good,” Luke said as he walked into the room, which suddenly seemed even smaller.
    She moved to let him pass, then edged forward as her skirt brushed the stove. She gasped as she almost stepped into his arms.
    â€œAre you all right?” His grin became an invitation she had been able to ignore from other men since … Pulling away, she looked past Luke to see Douglas’s dismay.
    â€œThank you, Luke,” she said stiffly, “but I’m fine. I didn’t burn myself.”
    â€œYou jumped like a toad on a hot brick.”
    Heat rushed up her cheeks. Why did he make her act like a child? She was a grown woman with a half-grown son. “Move aside so I can stir the soup before it burns!”
    He laughed. “I can see you’re as much of a tyrant here as in the shop.”
    â€œIt’s my home and my shop.”
    â€œYes, Madam Editor.” He bowed, then smiled. “I guess we’re going to have some trouble adjusting.”
    She stirred the soup vigorously. “ You may have trouble adjusting to us. This is our home and—”
    â€œI know. And your business.” His smile vanished as he sat on the end of the bench beside Douglas. “Look, Mackenzie, I’m more than willing to work, but I won’t be belittled the whole time I’m here.”
    That sounded sensible, but any lessening of her coolness would cost her control of the situation. “How long will you be in Bentonville?”
    He clasped his hands around one knee. “I’m interested in what happens when Wyoming gains its statehood.”
    She refused to let him see her dismay. She had not thought he would want to stay in Bentonville the whole time. Rumor hinted statehood would be ratified in July. That was more than five weeks away. Five weeks of this man intruding on her life? A slow smile spread across her face. Luke wanted to find out all about the rough life in Bentonville, did he? She could make sure he did. Then she could watch him scurry away on the next train East.
    No, Luke Bradfield did not look like the type who would flee at the first suggestion of trouble. He would want to be right in the middle of it. A shudder raced across her shoulders. That could be even worse.
    She heard Luke ask, “What are you doing, Douglas?”
    â€œCiphering,” grumbled her son. “I hate it.”
    Mackenzie spooned out three bowls of soup and carried two