“Stop it.”
“Wonder where he took her?”
“He didn’t take her anywhere. They didn’t get married.”
The drugs must be playing tricks on his mind. Maggie didn’t get married? He rubbed his forehead, and his fingers grazed over some stubble. His hair was missing!
“What the hell?” He patted the top of his head finding bristles on one side and dreadlocks on the other.
“They cut off some of your hair because you have a head injury.” Carly guided his hand to the crusty patch behind his ear. “You have some stitches back here.”
“I must look like a zombie.”
“You do look a little scary.”
“Great.”
“Maybe they’ll let me cut the rest of your hair.”
“Not so fast.”
He needed time to let it sink in. His dreads were more than just matted strands of hair. They were a part of him, a part of his history. They represented the struggles he’d gone through after Maggie had left him. A personal war he’d fought to get his life together.
The year following her departure, he’d stumbled through his duties for the Air Force as if in a daze, and had signed the divorce papers on his way back to Afghanistan. His mind had been in a permanent fog. It was a wonder he hadn’t gotten himself killed. When he’d fulfilled his four-year stint, he had hitchhiked to Chicago, where he found work as an airline mechanic. After a couple of weeks, he moved on to Dallas. He couldn’t seem to focus on the job or settle down in either place, so he continued his trek across the country, sleeping on park benches, in cornfields, and under bridges until he got to Los Angeles. From there, he caught a flight to the big island of Hawaii and continued his lone journey, ending up at an organic farm in the rainforest. It was there, picking pineapples and bananas, living in a small, screened-in cabana with three other guys, that he allowed himself to think and feel and grieve the end of his marriage. And the loss of the only woman he’d ever loved.
He’d worked from sunup to sundown, growing brown and lean, eating mostly what they grew on the farm, and hadn’t cared about his appearance. His hair had grown back into its natural curl and he hadn’t bothered to detangle it. It matted into thick ropes as if on a mission of its own. During those years in the rainforest, Travis had dabbled in drugs, studied Buddhism, and practiced yoga—anything to better understand himself, and how to fix his marriage.
He’d spent his spare time working on the farm’s trucks and tractors, a skill he’d learned in the Air Force. After years of toil and self-reflection, he retraced his steps back to West Virginia, determined to heal the rift between Maggie and him.
He didn’t know that she had married husband number two until he’d knocked on her door.
His mind drifted back to the present as reality sank in. “So your mother didn’t marry Buddy?”
“Dad, she was in your room when you first woke up. Don’t you remember?”
“Sort of.” What he remembered was hearing her speaking in a whisper, and when he opened his eyes, she had his face in her hands. She’d talked to him a bit and then ran out of the room. It was all a blur.
“She left the church right before she was supposed to marry Buddy. Officer Pete told us you were hit. We both dropped everything and came. I’ve been here for two days now.”
“Thank you, baby.” He reached out his hand and she grabbed hold.
“Mom left yesterday. Apparently you pissed her off again.”
“I don’t . . . remember.” He dug deep into his memory, waving the fog aside, trying to recall their conversation.
“You told her you didn’t want her here. That she should go home to her husband.”
“Oh, shit.”
“She had been here all night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why do you do that? Why do you purposely try to upset her?”
“I don’t purposely—”
“You made her cry. Why do you do that?”
Carly stood over him, expecting a logical answer. But he didn’t have one. He had no idea why he said the things he did to Maggie, knowing full well it would hurt her. They’d been like two cats fighting in an alley ever since he’d come back from his first deployment.
* * *
“Where are you going?” Maggie held Carly in the crook of her arm as she reached out and pulled Travis back from the door. Their one-year-old’s chubby legs kicked wildly. “You can’t leave me home alone again. I think she’s got a fever.”
He laid his hand on his daughter’s forehead. “Feels okay to me.” He had to get out of there.
“But she’s sick.”
“I’m meeting the guys for one drink. I’ll be back.”
Ever since he’d returned from Afghanistan, he went out every night with his buddies. He knew it wasn’t fair to Maggie, but he couldn’t cope with a wife and baby. He was hanging on by a thread. Couldn’t she see that?
He had returned a couple of weeks ago from overseas, and nothing seemed the same. It was like he was married to a stranger. Where was the sweet girl he’d made love to that night in the woods? The wife who had clung to him, begged him to be careful on his deployment? Hell, she’d barely let him touch her since he’d been back. He had nightmares, making sleep impossible. The only way he could cope was with several strong drinks.
Carly threw her head back and wailed. She’d been fussy since he had walked in the door.
“I need a break,” Maggie said, bouncing Carly on her hip. “I think she’s cutting a tooth. She’s cried on and off all day. It’s your turn.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. I’ve been stranded here all day.”
“I needed the car to go to work.”
“I know. But it’s time you took over. I need to get out for a while.”
“Not tonight.” Travis grabbed the keys off the table and turned toward the door. Carly’s screaming was giving him a headache.
“No!” She pushed Travis into the doorframe and placed Carly in his arms. “You’re not going out again tonight. You’re staying with your daughter.”
“What the hell is the matter with you?”
“I need a break. Give me the keys.”
“The hell I will. I’m going out.” He held Carly out to Maggie, but she stepped back, folding her arms across her chest.
“Maggie, take the baby.”
“No. You take her. I’m leaving.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do with her?”
“Feed her. Read her a book. Rock her. Act like a father for once in your life.”
“What’s gotten into you?” She’d lost her mind this time. Not waiting for an answer, he crossed the cluttered, tiny living room and put Carly in her swing as she continued to scream. “Christ, I work all day, and this is the shit I have to come home to?”
“You’re not the only one who’s worked all day.”
“Worked? Have you looked at this shit hole?” He pointed at the dirty dishes in the sink, and laundry piled up on the floor. “Looks like you sat on your ass all day.”
“You monster.” Tears glistened in her eyes, but none fell. She rushed into the narrow galley kitchen and pulled open the junk drawer where they kept an extra set of keys. “I’d like to see you take care of a baby all day and try to keep a clean house.”
“Doesn’t sound so hard to me.”
“Fine. Then you do it. See how you like it. I’m leaving.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Not sure. Maybe not until you learn to appreciate what you have.”
He appreciated what he had. He just had a hard time coping.
* * *
They had been fighting ever since. It had become a habit of sorts, like they were incapable of having a polite conversation with each other. They communicated with a lot of name-calling and put-downs. He’d crossed the line this time. All this fighting had to s
top for Carly’s sake. It wasn’t fair to her.
“I’m sorry, baby. I owe your mom big time. I’ll be sure to tell her so.”
“You better. You’re lucky to have her. Most women wouldn’t run out on their wedding day to be with their ex in the hospital. Maybe if you were a little nicer, she’d be nicer to you.”
That was a tactic he hadn’t thought of.
Maggie dragged herself off the couch, grinding her fists into her gritty eyes as she padded toward the kitchen. She had left Carly at the hospital and had gotten home late last night. After taking a shower, she had collapsed on the bed and fell into a sleep coma. Unfortunately, it hadn’t lasted long. Within two hours, she was wide awake and staring at the ceiling. She shuffled into the living room, found an old movie on TV, and drifted off again. Once more, her attempt at sleep was in vain because dreams of squealing tires and crunching metal and a bloodied Travis had jerked her awake. His harsh words still wrenched her heart.
I don’t want you here.
Go home to your husband.
She was so stupid. When would she learn that Travis didn’t like her or need her or want her around, even when he was flat on his back in the ICU? It was painful to admit, but he hated her. The only reason he tolerated her in his life was because of Carly. So why had she dropped everything and run out of her wedding to be with him?
She placed a pod into the coffee maker and stared out the window as she listened to the machine hiss and sputter. Bracing her hands on the kitchen counter, she released a heavy sigh. What now? Travis would heal on his own without her help, so there was nothing to prevent her from marrying Buddy. Rubbing at the ache in her neck reminded her that maybe a quick check-up was in order. She should make a doctor’s appointment rather than call the pastor to reschedule the wedding. There was no point in going into a new marriage with all these aches and pains.
The sound of running water drew her away from her thoughts, and she found coffee spilling down the front of the cabinet and onto the floor. She’d forgotten to put a mug under the stream.
“Damn it!” Her eyes prickled with threatening tears. Nothing was going right. “I give up.” Maggie ran into her bedroom, pulled on leggings and a sleeveless blouse, and rushed out of the house. She needed something to take her mind off Travis.
Ten minutes later, she walked into the Brass Rail, letting the backdoor slam behind her.
“What are you doing here?” Penny was sitting at the desk in their dad’s office.
“I decided to come to work.”
“I’ve got plenty of help scheduled. Go home and get some rest. You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” Maggie skirted behind the desk and looked over Penny’s shoulder at the accounting program she’d pulled up on the computer. “What are you working on?”
“Trying to balance the checking account.”
“That’s my job. I’ll do it.” She bumped her hip into Penny’s shoulder, forcing her sister out of the chair. A few hours of number-crunching in the quiet, cramped office would surely take her mind off the stresses in her life.
“When did you get home?” Penny perched on the edge of the desk. “Did you get any sleep?”
“I got home around ten. I slept a couple of hours.”
“Seriously, go home. I got this.”
“I’d rather be here.”
“It’s okay if you want to go back to the hospital. I’ve got it covered.”
“Travis doesn’t want me there.” Maggie tapped a few keys, ignoring her sister’s gaze boring into her.
“What do you mean he doesn’t want you there?”
“He told me he didn’t want me there, and I should go home to my husband.”
“You told him you didn’t get married, right?”
“I didn’t get a chance. He made me so mad I just rushed out.”
“He can be such a jerk.” Penny picked up a letter opener and banged it against the desk. “Did you tell him you’d been there all night?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. You’d have thought the car that hit him would’ve knocked the meanness out of him.”
“Nope. Not when it comes to Buddy Garrett. He really hates him.”
“I don’t know why. Buddy never did anything to him.”
“Except propose to you.”
Maggie shook her head and turned her attention to the accounting program in front of her. She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. She had turned it over and over in her mind for years and would never understand Travis. He could be super sweet and help her out of a jam, but then he would throw snide remarks her way, making her feel an inch tall. He didn’t want her, but seemed to not want anyone else to have her. They’d been divorced for years. Why couldn’t he let her be happy?
Penny finally got the hint that Maggie was through talking about Travis or Buddy, and left the office. While Maggie had some peace and quiet, she worked through the invoices needing paid, updated the payroll records, and then pulled out the bank statement to balance the account. Within seconds, she noticed that two deposits were missing. There was a mistake somewhere. She went back through her records one more time, and leafed through the bank receipts for each individual deposit, but couldn’t find the two in question.
She went looking for Penny and found her in the storage room, lifting a fifth of rum from a carton. “Hey, there’s a mistake. Two deposits aren’t listed on the statement. Where did you put the deposit slips from the bank?”
“They should be in the envelope where we keep them.”
“I couldn’t find them. Do you think they could be in your car?” Their routine was to drop the locked bag in the night deposit box at the bank on their way home from the bar when they were scheduled to close up. The next morning, whoever had the early shift would pick up the bag and receipt from the bank on their way to work. It was a great system, but Penny had been known to leave receipts where they didn’t belong like her car, her pockets, and even the trash can. They had never run into a problem squaring their records with the monthly statements until now.
“I’ve been really good about putting the receipts where they belong. What days are you talking about?”
Penny followed Maggie back into the office and grabbed the work schedule they kept on a wall calendar.
“The first one was April thirtieth and the other was May fifth.”
Penny glanced over the calendar and reported her findings. “You closed on both of those nights and had the early shift the next day. So you made the deposit and should’ve stopped by the bank the next day.”
“I did?” Maggie pulled out her phone and checked the schedule she kept there. She found a notation that she was supposed to have dinner with Buddy’s sister on the thirtieth. They had gone to a Mexican restaurant in Brookfield, and had come back to the Brass Rail afterward. Buddy and his sister had hung out at the bar while Maggie worked. He had stayed until she had closed up, and had gone home with her that night. But on May fifth her personal calendar had her off that night.
“I didn’t close on May fifth or open the next morning.”
“Yeah, you did. I remember. My car wouldn’t start, and Travis had to come get it. You covered for me, remember? I still didn’t have wheels the next morning. We switched days that week.”
“Right. I do remember. Buddy was in town so he worked with me. I guess I screwed up somehow. I’ll go into the bank on my way home and see if there was a mistake on their end.”
“Good idea.”
“Did you ever find the small bills I left you?”
“Nope. I better get back out front. It sounds like it’s getting busy.”
That made no sense. Doubt niggled at her. She might always have several plates spinning, but she was a stickler for details, records, and numbers. She had put the ones and fives in their usual hiding place on Friday after the rehearsal dinner. And there had never been a mistake on her end when balancing the statement. Her bookkeeping was detailed and accurate, which pleased her accountant at tax ti
me. The missing deposits had to be the bank’s fault, but how could she explain the missing cash?
Chapter 10
“Well, Mr. Kane, you’ve certainly exceeded my expectations.”
“I’ve been known to do that.”
The doctor smiled as she secured the stethoscope around her neck and leaned over Travis. “You’ve made amazing progress in just a week’s time.” He winced as the doctor gingerly ran her fingers over his ribcage. “That’s going to be a tender spot for a while, so just go easy. I recommend you move to a rehabilitation facility for the remainder of your recovery.”
“Cut me some slack, doc. Can’t I just go home?”
“Since you live alone, I’m not recommending it. Besides, didn’t you mention that you live above your garage?”
He must’ve been under some heavy drugs when he told her that. If he had known that information would come back to bite him, he would have kept it confidential.
“Yeah, but there are only a few steps. I’ll have no problem getting up there with some crutches.”
“You’re not ready for crutches. Your ribs still need to heal. Unless you have somewhere to go that’s one-story with no stairs, I’m afraid you’ll have to go to the rehab center.”
“He can stay with us.” Carly had been leaning against the wall with her hands tucked behind her back while the doctor examined him. Travis had almost forgotten she was there.
“Right. Yes. I can stay with my daughter.” He smiled confidently at the doctor, but inside his stomach was in knots. There was no way in hell Maggie would invite him to stay at her house for the next six weeks.
“I’ll need confirmation from Ms. Timbrook before I can release you to her care.”
“One hundred percent it won’t be a problem,” Carly said. Damned if his daughter hadn’t inherited his gift for bamboozling. She almost had him convinced it would be okay with her mom. He didn’t want to hear the explosion when Carly told Maggie he was coming home with them.
“Still, I’d want to speak with your mother before I released him.”
“Okay, I’ll tell her to come in this afternoon. What time would be good for you?”
Whatever Love Means Page 9
