Lights shone beneath the eaves of the porch and from the many windows of the house. Jeremiah’s home wasn’t what she’d expected. For one thing, there were lovely filigree cornices beneath the porch that wrapped around the two-story structure, and it was painted a pretty sky blue, not uncommon to Victorian houses of the era in Texas. The house and what she could see of the flower beds and landscaping were too feminine for the ornery rancher. Which caused her stomach to cramp just a little bit. She hadn’t thought of him as married. Not the way his gaze had slid over her frame back at the community center. So maybe he wasn’t the straight-arrow she’d always pegged him as. Then she wondered what female he’d convinced to put up with his high-handed attitude. She almost felt sorry for the woman. Almost. Mostly, she felt a deep, aching envy. Puzzling, since she was sure she didn’t like Jeremiah very much. Carly shook her head and opened her door, giving it a hard shove because the door’s rusted hinges always gave her crap.
