The Thawing of Mara Read Free Page B

myself for quite some time. Virtually from the day you walked out."
    He sighed. "I'm not trying to—"
    "I know what you're trying to do," Mara interrupted with freezing contempt. "You may live in this house, but you won't control my life the way you controlled mother's."
    She turned on her heel and swept out of the room. Harve waited in the kitchen. His gaze moved over her as she entered. Mara's arctic indifference to his caressive look made him take a deep breath of confused frustration.
    "Here's the key." She handed it to him.
    He looked at it for a second before his fingers closed around it. "I'll bring it back when I'm finished. It shouldn't take too long."
    "All right," said Mara, since some kind of answer seemed to be expected of her.
    "Are you sure you won't change your mind and come with me?" Harve tipped his head to one side, half expecting the answer he received.
    "No."
    "That's what I thought." A wry smile crooked his mouth. "See you later."
    "Yes. Goodbye, Harve."
    "And don't worry about the cottage or Sinclair Buchanan. I'll make sure it's a clean, sweet deal," he assured her with a wink. "Or we'll pass on it."
    When Harve had gone, Mara lingered in the kitchen. The decision would be hers. She was not going to be influenced by Harve or money, and especially not by her father.
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
    A WEEK LATER Harve telephoned to let Mara know that Sinclair Buchanan was definitely interested in leasing the cottage. A few days after that Harve came to the farmhouse with the references supplied by Buchanan.
    "You see, he checks out," Harve declared triumphantly as Mara went over the information. "He's not only a solid citizen with impeccable personal references, but I'm almost embarrassed that I questioned his credit."
    Mara studied the papers for a moment longer, almost wishing she could find something to fault. There was nothing, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease.
    "It appears you're right," she agreed, however reluctantly.
    "You could be a bit more enthusiastic," he grumbled. "This is a great deal, Mara. You're unbelievably lucky to get an offer like this for the cottage. It wouldn't hurt you to show a little excitement."
    "I'm aware of my good fortune," Mara insisted, and stacked the pieces of paler neatly to return them to the folder. "I simply think it's wiser to wait until I see his signature on a lease agreement before I begin celebrating."
    "His signature and a check for the first and last months' lease payment. Don't forget that," Harve reminded her.
    "I haven't forgotten," she assured him.
    "In the meantime—" he removed a folded document from the inner pocket of his suit jacket "—let's get your signature on the agreement so I can forward it to Buchanan for his."
    He spread the printed form on the kitchen table and handed Mara a pen. She read it through before placing her signature of "M. Prentiss" on the line Harve indicated. When it was done Mara felt better, as if she had made some important decision. It was really quite ridiculous to feel that way. She had signed a simple lease agreement, hardly likely to change her life.
    "Why look so worried?" he chided. "From this point on it's merely a formality."
    "I'm not worried," she denied.
    As Harve had predicted, the final phases of the agreement proved to be a mere formality. The lease had been mailed to Sinclair Buchanan. By return mail Harve received Mara's copy with the lessee's signature affixed to it and a check. When he brought the document to the house, Mara guessed the reason for his visit by the expression on his face.
    "Here it is." He produced the envelope with an air of self-satisfaction. "All signed, sealed and delivered."  
    On the last word, he handed it to her with a slight flourish. Mara took it, removing the papers from the envelope and glancing at the signature scribbled across the line to be sure it was there. A cashier's check was clipped to the agreement. Mara glanced at the amount and raised a questioning