Page 8 of Borgaz

CHAPTER 5

What did I do to deserve this, Mary thought as she cleaned out the front room she had decided to use as a bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it still contained most of their original furniture, shrouded under dusty sheets. All they’d taken with them when they left was one wagonload of possessions, but Matthew hadn’t even bothered to sell what remained.

When they had lived here, the front room had been a rarely used formal parlor, but it was spacious enough to make an adequate bedroom. Even without the broken window, her old bedroom was too much of a reminder of the girl she had once been, and she couldn’t imagine using her parents’ room. The parlor would even have a nice view over the surrounding hills once she trimmed away the overgrown vines.

Assuming Borgaz would trust her with pruning shears. Impossible male.

Although it was nice of him to fix that leak.Maybe I should ask him to look at the hot water generator while he’s here…No. Sherefused to make the mistake of being dependent on anyone else again.

After her parents died, their neighbor William had stepped in to help deal with the formalities. She’d been so dazed by grief and shock that she’d simply let him take care of everything. It wasn’t until the lights stopped working two months later that she realized the credits her parents had left for her were gone.

When she gathered the nerve to confront him, he assured her that they had only been used for expenses she’d approved - expenses she didn’t remember. Which only proved that she needed someone to look after her, he told her, and he intended to be that person. He’d been so smoothly convincing that she’d almost agreed, but some inner voice had warned her not to listen.

The next morning she’d slipped quietly out of the house to visit the bank and found that he’d transferred everything out of her account. But all of it had been under her signature and the bank manager, while sympathetic, had been unable to reverse the transactions.

From that point on she’d been determined to rely only on herself. She had nothing left to take - nothing except this land she wanted so desperately - but she wasn’t going to take any chances. The sooner Borgaz left, the better.

She’d just finished uncovering the furniture and sweeping the floor when he appeared in the doorway, big, imposing, and scowling.

“You are preparing a room for entertaining?” he asked, taking in the formal sofa and chairs she had uncovered. “Do you expect visitors?”

His tail lashed as he spoke and she shot it a fascinated glance before huffing at him.

“Of course not. I’m going to use this room for sleeping.”

“There is no bed.”

“I did notice that. I’ll just curl up on the sofa for now.”

His frown deepened as he studied the velvet-covered couch. With the rich fabric and elaborate carving, the piece had been her mother’s pride and joy but it had been designed for looks rather than comfort.

“It is too small, even for you alone. There is a perfectly adequate room for sleeping behind this one. Why not use that?”

“Because it was my parent’s room.”

She expected him to argue. Instead he gave her a thoughtful look, then nodded abruptly and disappeared again. He’d actually let her get the last word? Triumphant, she set to work cleaning the windows until the sunlight that filtered through the vines sparkled on the clean glass. She’d just finished when he returned with a big mattress.

“I aired it out and filled it with fresh bedding,” he said before she could object. “There should be nothing to disturb you.”

The mattress would be far more comfortable than the sofa, and she gave a begrudging nod. Not that he’d waited for her approval - he’d already moved the sofa to one side to make room for the mattress.

“The blankets are airing as well, but vermin had used the pillows for nesting. We will bring new ones when we return tonight.”

“Weare not returning.Iam returning and I don’t need your pillows. If I want some I’ll order them from Mr. Armstrong.”

Or make her own, given her limited funds, but it wasn’t his concern.

Once again he looked at her silently, then disappeared, but this time she didn’t feel nearly so triumphant. She had the sinking suspicion that he’d already formed his own plans and had simply decided not to argue.

Finished with the parlor, she moved on to the bathroom, only to find that it had been scrubbed within an inch of its life - and the hot water was working. Dammit. Even though she hadn’t asked him to fix it, she couldn’t deny that it was a relief to know she would have hot water. Sighing, she went to find him.

He was hammering the loose boards on the porch back into place. He’d discarded his shirt and his muscled back gleamed in the setting sun as he drove a nail home with one powerful blow. Oh my. She’d been too scared and then too irritated to pay much attention before, but she couldn’t help giving an appreciative glance at all that masculine power.

His tail flicked at her, but he didn’t look up.

“These boards should be replaced, but this will render them safe for now. My preliminary inspection did not discover any other structural weaknesses. The plumbing is functional and I have blocked the vermin holes temporarily. If you insist on returning, I suppose it would be safe enough.”

“How nice of you to approve,” she said dryly, and he sat back on his heels, pinning her with that amber gaze.

---