That’s all. Anyone would have done the same
thing.”
“I suppose.”
But not just anyone had rescued her. Matthew
had been the knight, and she’d been very pleased. She remembered
that much anyway.
“Your mother is a sweet woman. She invited me
to dinner. We had roast beef with onions and mushrooms, mashed
potatoes, peas and apple pie. I remember it smelled and tasted like
a holiday here last night.”
“I’m afraid that meal is standard issue for a
North Dakota farm supper.”
“It was very good. She served wine after our
meal, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she did.”
Confusion and curiosity settled into her
brain once more. “Sheila got me drunk?” But she’d seemed so sweet.
“That’s impossible.”
She plunged her fingers through her long
hair. “No way. That lovely old lady could not possibly have gotten
me drunk.”
She searched her memory trying to recall how
much wine Sheila had offered her. “I had only two small glasses of
wine,” she said when clarity returned. “That’s not enough to get me
drunk.”
He shifted and turned solidly on his side.
“Maybe you weren’t drunk. Maybe you were just so tired you passed
out once the wine relaxed you.”
That made sense. “Yes, that’s probably what
happened.”
He shrugged. “Probably,” he said, giving her
a look which seemed to suggest there was much more to the
story.
She tilted her head and scowled at him. “Why
were we sleeping in the same bed?”
A knock sounded at the door just before it
opened. Sheila slipped inside. She smiled at the couple in bed and
rubbed her hands together. “Good morning, my children,” she said
sweetly. She flicked her short, gray curls with her slender
fingers. “I hope you slept well.”
Melinda grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to
her neck as though she were covering a lot less than a navy blue
sweater and jeans. “Sheila, I know what this must look like. You’ve
got to believe me when I tell you nothing happened between Matthew
and me.” She tried to tug the sheet higher. “I would never do
anything to disgrace the family who took me in the way you did. I’m
very grateful for your protection from the storm.”
“Nothing happened?” she asked, raising a brow
in the same fashion Matthew had shown earlier.
Melinda shook her head vigorously. “No,
nothing. I swear.”
“But you don’t remember everything about last
night,” Matthew said suggestively. “You said so yourself.”
Melinda gave him the nastiest look she could
muster. “I’d remember if something had happened between us,
Matthew Pottaski.” She turned to Sheila. “ Nothing happened.”
Sheila came to the bed and took Melinda’s
hand. “That’s a shame, sweetheart. Maybe next time.”
“What?!” Melinda yanked her hand away from
Sheila. Had she heard the elderly woman correctly? Was that a look
of disappoint in Sheila’s eyes? She should have been relieved
Matthew and Melinda had managed to pass a celibate night, shouldn’t
have she?
“Maybe next time the two of you will have a
more…shall we say, interesting night together.”
“Mother!”
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
Matthew got out of bed and tucked his flannel
shirt into his jeans. “For heaven’s sake, Mother. How can you
suggest something as improper as an intimate relationship between
Melinda and me should take place? She’s a guest in our home,
stranded by a quirk of nature. I would never take advantage of
her--”
“Take advantage of her?” Sheila interjected.
She shifted her gaze from Matthew to Melinda and back to her son.
“But how can you call having intimate relations with your wife
taking advantage of her?”
“What?!” Matthew and Melinda said in
unison.
Sheila reached for Melinda’s hand. “You’re
married now, dear,” she said, squeezing her hand, “and I’ll be
wanting grandchildren. The sooner, the better.”
She looked at Matthew. “She’s a lovely girl,
son. Treat her right, and get her in the family way as
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