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“Yes, to both,” Lorna replied, drumming her fingers on the table again. “Which is why I overreacted earlier. I just hate to see any part of Bayou le Jardin destroyed, and I guess I felt helpless. So I took it all out on you and your men. But, hey, we can’t change an act of God, can we.”

“No, Mother Nature doesn’t discriminate.”

“And God always has His reasons, I suppose. Aunt Hilda says we should never question God.”

Mick watched as she jumped up—didn’t even give him a chance to help her out of her chair. Did she resent God, then, for taking her parents? No, she’d said she prayed to Him. But…maybe even though she believed in God, she still had some harsh thoughts holed up in that pretty head of hers. And since she couldn’t take everything out on God, Mick Love would probably come in handy.

He was getting the picture, all right.

And he’d have to tread lightly in order to avoid this cute little woman’s wrath. Or he’d have to flirt with her to take her mind off her troubles.

Either way, his time at Bayou le Jardin surely wouldn’t be boring. Not one little bit.

“We’ve still got a little bit of cleaning up to do in the rear gardens,” Mick told Lorna hours later, as they stood beneath the remaining live oaks in the backyard. “Then tomorrow we can start on that big one by the back gallery. I’m afraid there’s not much to do for that one but cut it down and break up as much of that massive stump as possible. Even your expert landscaper Mr. Hayes agrees with me there.”

Lorna placed her hands on her hips, then looked over at the tree that had clipped part of the roof during the storm. The tree looked as if someone had taken its trunk and twisted it around until it had reached the breaking point. “Yes, I suppose if you did try to salvage what’s left, it would only be misshapen and mainly a stump with twigs sprouting from it.” She shook her head. “That tree has been there for centuries.”

“I know,” Mick said, taking her by the arm to guide her around broken limbs and torn roof tiles. “I’ve always loved trees.”

Lorna glanced over at him. He was filthy dirty from stomping around in mud and bushes all day, but he still had an air of authority about him that dirt and sweat couldn’t mask. He’d worked side by side with the ten or so men on his crew, issuing orders in a clear, precise way without ever raising his voice or exerting power. She certainly couldn’t fault him—he’d done a good job of clearing up the debris.

But he sure could use a shower.

Glad she’d had one herself and even more glad she’d changed into a flowing denim skirt and printed cotton scoop-neck T-shirt, Lorna told herself to stop being silly. It had been a very long time since she’d taken time to dress for a man. She wasn’t about to start now. But she had washed her hair, just in case.

Just in case of what?

Wanting to get her mind off Mick Love and back on business, she asked, “Is that why you became a forester, because you like trees?”

Mick shook the dust and dirt out of his tousled hair, then smiled over at her. “Yeah, I guess so. I grew up in rural Mississippi—nothing but trees and kudzu. I used to climb way up high in this great big live oak out in the woods behind our house and pretend I was Tarzan.”

Lorna laughed out loud. “Did you swing through the kudzu vines and yell like Tarzan?”

He actually blushed, just a faint tinge of pink against tanned skin and dirt smudges. “Yeah, and I beat my chest, too.” Then he demonstrated, his fist hitting his broad chest as he made a strange and rather loud call.

“Hey, boss, stop trying to impress that pretty woman and tell us it’s time to call it a day, please.”

Mick and Lorna turned to find Josh Simmons, Mick’s assistant and crew foreman, laughing at them from the corner of the house.

Josh stepped forward, his hard hat in his hands, a big grin on his chocolate-colored face. “Miz Dorsette, that’s the only way he knows how to attract females.”

Mick groaned. “Yeah, and sometimes it only brings out the wrong kind.”

Lorna could understand that. Even pretending to be a savage, Mick Love made her shudder and wonder. He was definitely all male, and every bit as tempting as any Tarzan she’d ever seen at the movies. And he was as tanned and muscular as any outdoorsman she’d ever been around.

Stop it, Lorna, she told herself. Then to bring her simmering heart back under control, she asked, “Where are you and your crew staying?”

Mick looked surprised. “Hadn’t really thought about that. Is there a hotel around here?”

Lorna scoffed, then waved a hand. “We are a bed-and-breakfast, Mick. Why don’t you stay here?” And wondered immediately why she’d just invited the man to stay at her home.

“But that would be way too much trouble,” Mick replied, his blue eyes skimming over her face, her hair. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense,” Lorna exclaimed. “Most of our guests have checked out because of the storm, anyway.” Trying to hide the fact that his eyes moving over her made her feel like a delicate flower lifting to find the sun, she turned to Josh, instead. “We have several guest cottages around the bend in the lane. The storm missed them—just some minor repairs. They sleep six to a cottage, so you and your men can take the first two. They’re clean and waiting, and they have bathrooms and everything you need to be comfortable. Breakfast is at the main house, and the restaurant should be open again in a day or so. We’ll furnish all of your other meals there, free of charge. And if we can’t open up again, don’t worry. Rosie Lee and I will see to it that you’re fed properly.”

“We couldn’t—”

“Mick, you drove for hours to come here and help us—I insist.”

They stood there, staring at each other. Lorna knew she’d just issued more than an invitation for a place to stay. And so did Mick Love. At least, the expectant look in his eyes gave her that impression.

“Well, what’s it gonna be, boss?” Josh said, a questioning gaze widening his face. “These fellows are dirty and hungry and about to fall asleep in their boots.”

Mick looked back at the trucks, where the men sat gathered and waiting for his next order. Then he turned back to Lorna. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” she told him, wishing that were true. Having Mick Love underfoot day and night meant having a big complication in her life. And she didn’t need any complications right now. As far as men were concerned, anyway. She’d had enough of those to last a lifetime. But then, she couldn’t send the man away. Not after the hard work he’d put in cleaning up the gardens. And there was still lots of work ahead.

“It just makes sense,” she said aloud, but more to convince herself than Mick. “How long do you think you’ll be here?”

Mick wrinkled his nose, which made him only look more adorable. “At least a couple of days, maybe all week.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll have Rosie Lee get the keys and some fresh towels, and Tobbie can show you to the cottages.”

“Okay,” Mick said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. We owe you our own thanks.”

After finding Rosie Lee and telling her what needed to be done, Lorna watched as Mick and his men followed Tobbie to the cottages. She could handle this. She could handle having him around for a couple of days. Soon, this mess would be cleaned up, and he’d be gone, and life would return to normal.