her. ''Audrey said you were putting your feet up in here, but
it looks to me like you're thick in the middle of work."
"Not really. I'm just daydreaming mostly. Come on in."
She rose from her desk, suddenly feeling slightly awkward
and self-conscious and wishing she'd gone upstairs to
I! freshen up a bit. Jed looked extra handsome in a neatly
pressed khaki shirt, topped with a muted-toned woven vest.
Although she knew he hadn't a vain bone in his body, he
always had such a sense of style about him.
"Nice fire," he commented, sinking down into the couch
and sighing with deep satisfaction. "This room's become a
very inviting place. Quite a difference from when you first
moved in here."
She laughed. "That's for sure. In fact, I was just thinking
that it's become my favorite room in the whole house. I sup-
pose that means I better get to work on the others."
"Plenty of time for that." He sat up and looked at her.
"Sometimes I think you never give yourself a break."
"You should talk, Mr. Whitewater. You're one of the
hardest-working people I know."
He smiled. "Ah, so it seems. But what you don't realize
is that I always take time to refresh myself."
"You do?"
He nodded. "Yes, it's something I learned from my father.
He always took time to walk in the woods, to enjoy nature
and relax. I remember how he'd tell me that life wasn't
worth living if all you did was work."
"Your father sounds as if he was a very wise man.
L".
30Melody Carlson
"He was." Jed leaned into the back of the couch,
stretching his long legs toward the fireplace, then turned and
looked into Maggie's eyes. "So how are you doing?"
She allowed herself to return his gaze, almost becoming
lost in the dark pools of his eyes before she answered, "I'm
okay, I guess."
His brow lifted. "You guess?"
"Well, I'm working on a story that's troubling me a
little." She waved her hand. "But we don't need to talk about
work-"
"No, I'd like to hear. What is it?"
She sat up straighter and began to explain about the
Westerly property, eager to hear what Jed would think of the
whole thing.
He shook his head. "Poor Mr. Westerly."
"I know," she agreed. "And he's such a dear man. I just
hate seeing him hurt like this. I wonder if there's anything to
be done."
"Perhaps when the old guy hears the truth, he can con-
sult with his attorney and possibly get out of the sale."