Forever Grace Read Online Free

sitting on your deck reading,” she snapped. “It’s not like he was doing any harm.”
    “Way to teach him about private property and laws, lady.”
    Silence. Then, “You know, for someone in your current predicament, you’re being awfully snarky.”
    Sean opened his mouth to retort. He snapped it shut again. She had a point.
    More silence.
    A sigh.
    “Do you have any gloves in the cottage?” she asked.
    “No. I threw them out after dealing with the poison ivy this summer. I haven’t replaced them. There’s a bag of old cloths under the sink, but you’ll have to go through the front door to get them. This one’s locked.”
    “You locked yourself out?”
    “The lock button is loose. I haven’t gotten around to fixing it.”
    “I see. And is that Josh’s fault, too?”
    He ignored her. “Front door’s unlocked. Light switch is on the wall beside it.”
    Her footsteps receded, and a few seconds later a light came on inside the cottage. Sean waited. And waited. And waited. He frowned. How long did it take to get a couple of rags? His mouth twisted. It would just figure if she was in there going through his stuff, robbing him blind. Maybe she and the kid had a scheme going. Son distracts a cottager, causing unknown injuries, and then mom steps in to “help” and cleans out the place.
    Sean winced at the weirdness of his own thoughts.
    Whoa. Put a cop on painkillers and stand back from the imagination.
    Another light came on in the cottage, this one in the living room, and the door slid open. Sean looked over at the woman who stepped out, scanning her with a practiced eye. Caucasian. Five feet, five inches tall—maybe six—it was harder to estimate height from a ground position. Straight, long brown hair, average build, wearing black pants and a red, thigh-length jacket, cinched in at the waist. The woman turned to him, the light from inside falling across her face.
    And damned good looking, too.
    Kids, Sean. Even if she’s not married, you don’t do kids, remember?
    His gaze dropped to the bundle she carried. He frowned. “Blankets?”
    “And a pillow.” She crossed the deck to kneel beside him. “This is going to take longer than I thought, so I need to go home and check on the kids before I rescue your crutch and give it a bath. Then we’ll get you upright and back inside.”
    He lifted his head from the planks so she could tuck the pillow beneath him. “Kids, plural? How many?”
    “Four.” She unfolded a blanket and spread it over him.
    Four ? He reappraised her as she unfolded a second cover.
    “That’s a lot of kids.”
    “They’re not—” She broke off. “Maybe to some. To me, it’s just the right number.”
    “And your husband agrees?”
    “I’m not married.” A third blanket followed the first two, and the woman pushed to her feet. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t run off anywhere.”
    “Funny.”
    “I try.”
    “One last thing before you go. In my bedroom, behind the door, there’s a shotgun. The shells are in the bedside table drawer.”
    She went still. “You keep a gun?”
    “I bring one with me when I come out here, as a precaution. For bears. There was a sow and her cubs hanging around the area this summer, and fresh scat beside the driveway when I pulled in earlier. They’ll be trying to fatten themselves up for the winter, and I’d rather not have to fight them off with my bare hands if they decide to come investigate.”
    The woman stayed quiet for few seconds, probably mulling over the bear idea. Good. Maybe she’d take her oversized brood and go home.
    “I don’t like guns,” she said.
    “You’d like cleaning up my remains a lot less,” he pointed out. “I think.”
    Her gaze met his. In the faint light coming from the cottage, he couldn’t make out the color of her eyes, but he could see the tilt of one eyebrow above them.
    “You sure about that?” she asked. But she disappeared into the cottage again, and re-emerged a few minutes