something. But she'd run straight into unwavering male loyalty. All she
got out of him was a Quinn shrug and a zipped lip.
She could have wheedled it out nonetheless. But she hadn't had the heart
to put a chip in that lovely bond. Seth could keep his loyalty to Ethan.
Anna would work on Grace.
She was positive they hadn't seen each other for days. It was
pathetically easy to keep tabs on Ethan. He was out on the water every
morning, in the boatyard every afternoon and through the evening. He
poked at his dinner, then retreated to his room. Where she'd seen the
light slanting under his door well into the night on several occasions.
Brooding, she thought with an impatient shake of her head. And if he
wasn't brooding, he was looking for a fight.
She had broken up what would certainly have been bloodshed over the
weekend when she walked in on the three brothers going nose to nose in
the boatyard, Seth looking on with avid interest.
Whatever had caused it remained a mystery as she'd bounced straight off
that same united male wall. Shrugs and snarls were all she got for her
trouble.
Well, it was going to stop, she decided, and attacked some chickweed
with enthusiasm. Women knew how to share and discuss. And if she had to
bang Grace Monroe over the head with her garden spade, Grace was damn
well going to share and discuss.
It was with pleasure that she heard Grace's car pull in. Anna tipped
back her hat, rose, and offered a welcoming smile. "Hi, there."
"Hello, Anna. I thought you'd be at work."
"Took a mental health day." Oh, yes, misery here as well, she mused. And
not quite as well coated as Ethan's. "You didn't bring Aubrey with you."
"No. My mother wanted her today." Grace ran a hand up and down the strap
of the oversized bag over her shoulder. "Well, I'll get started and let
you get back to your gardening."
"I was just looking for an excuse to take a break. Why don't we sit down
on the porch a minute?"
"I really should get the first load of laundry in."
"Grace." Anna laid a gentle hand on her arm. "Sit down. Talk to me. I
count you as one of my friends. I hope you count me as one of yours."
"I do." Grace's voice wavered. She had to take three breaths to steady
it. "I do, Anna."
"Then let's sit down. Tell me what's happened to make you and Ethan so
unhappy."
"I don't know if I can." But she was tired, bone-tired, so she sat down
on the steps. "I guess I made a mess of everything."
"How?"
She'd cried herself dry, Grace thought. Not that it had helped. Maybe it
would help to talk things over with another woman, one she was beginning
to feel close to. "I let myself assume," she began. "I let myself plan.
He picked me flowers," she said with a helpless lift of her hands.
"Picked you flowers?" Anna's eyes narrowed fractionally. Rabbits, my
butt, she thought, but filed it away for later retribution.
"And he took me to dinner. Candles and wine. I thought he was going to
ask me to marry him. Ethan does things stage by stage, and I thought he