“Hello,” she said, hardly knowing what to think. “I hope you don’t mind that we invaded your home.”
“Not at all.” He clasped her by the shoulders. “Now, let me take a good look at you.” He smiled down at her, then glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Max, you got yourself a cutie.”
When he released her, Bethanne nearly stumbled backward.
“I hope you found everything you need,” Al said as he walked into the kitchen. He removed a beer from the fridge and motioned to Max with it, silently offering him one.
Max declined with a shake of his head.
Al pulled back the tab and took a deep swallow. He returned to the living room and sat down on the sofa.
“How’s Sherry?” Max asked.
“She’s doing great,” Al said.
Bethanne assumed the other woman must be Al’s wife but didn’t ask.
Obviously feeling the need to explain, Al looked over at her. “Sherry’s our daughter. Max picked her up hitchhiking three years ago—thank God—and managed to talk some sense into her. Our little girl got hooked on painkillers. We hardly knew her anymore. She stole her mother’s jewelry and hocked it for drug money and was on a downward spiral.”
“I’m glad to hear she’s better,” Bethanne whispered. This was every parent’s nightmare.
“She did a complete turnaround,” Al said. “If it wasn’t for Max picking her up that night I don’t know what would’ve happened to her. How he talked her into going to rehab I’ll never know. Her mother and I begged her over and over but she wouldn’t listen to us.”
“You did that?” Bethanne stared at Max.
“He does that sort of thing,” Al continued.
“Al,” Max said under his breath. “Enough.”
“I haven’t known him long,” Bethanne said, cutting Max off. “Tell me more.”
“I think we should head out.” Max stood and started for the door.
“We’ve got time,” Bethanne countered, winking at Al.
“You don’t know?” Al looked from Bethanne to Max and then back again.
“Bethanne, come on,” Max said through clenched teeth.
“I’d like to hear what Al has to say,” she told him. “Come back and sit down.” When Max hesitated, she added, “Please?”
Max claimed the chair he’d recently vacated, but he didn’t seem pleased about it.
“Max rides his motorcycle from one end of the country to the other, and along the way he helps people in need,” Al explained. “If he comes across someone in trouble, Max lends a hand. Sometimes it’s talking to them, like it was with our Sherry. Other times it’s getting them something to eat and a place to live. All he asks in return is that whoever he helps pays it forward.”
“He’s definitely one of the good guys,” Bethanne said. Now she understood what the mechanic in Wells, Nevada, had been talking about.
“I’m no saint,” Max grumbled.
“He doesn’t talk about it, either. As you might’ve noticed, he doesn’t like people knowing what a soft heart he has.”
“How’d you find out?” Bethanne asked. “Other than through Sherry, I mean.”
“Rooster.”
Max grunted in disapproval.
“Name’s a bit odd. His real name’s John Wayne Miller. John Wayne played a guy called Rooster in a movie called True Grit back in the sixties and apparently that’s how Rooster picked up the nickname.”
Bethanne nodded. “Yeah, I heard that.”
“I wish you two’d stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here,” Max complained.
Al continued to ignore Max. “Max stops by to see Susie and me every now and then.” He smiled at Max. “This is the first time he’s ever brought a lady friend.”
“Actually, Max helped me when our car broke down in Nevada.” She caught his eye. “I don’t recall you asking me to pay it forward.”
“Can we go yet?” Max asked pointedly.
“I was with my daughter and mother-in-law, and—”
“Ex-mother-in-law,” Max corrected.
“Yes, I’m divorced. Max and I just sort of hit it off.”
Al looked pleased as spiked punch. “I always wondered why he never had a woman in his life.”
“I prefer my own company,” Max said.
“Doesn’t look like it to me.” Al laughed. “You’ve found someone special, and you should be grateful. It’s not much of a life, racing from one coast to the other, especially if you’re alone.”
“I like my life the way it is.”
“Sure you do,” Al muttered sarcastically.
“I do,” Max said. He held his hand out to Bethanne; it was time to leave.
“No need to rush off. Susie’s on her way home and I know she’d love to see you.”
Bethanne agreed with Max’s friend. “We should stay and say hello to Susie.”
“She’d be real disappointed if you took off,” Al said. “Besides, she’s bringing lunch. I’ll give her a quick call and tell her to pick up enough for five.” He grinned. “I eat as much as two normal people, so she automatically buys two of everything when she’s feeding me.”
“Lunch,” Bethanne said sweetly.
Max nodded reluctantly.
Sure enough, Susie arrived about ten minutes later and the men met her in the driveway. Al and Max brought in grocery bags and two six-packs of beer, plus an equal number of sodas.
Susie was a petite woman who stood a full foot and a half shorter than her husband. She had curly brown hair and big hazel eyes. Clearly she adored Max and welcomed Bethanne with a warm smile.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to meet you,” she said, rushing inside. “Al and I were so thrilled to hear from Max, we immediately changed our plans and headed for the lake house.”
Bethanne followed Susie into the kitchen and began unpacking groceries, setting the food on the kitchen counter.
“What else can I do to help?” Bethanne asked when she’d finished.
“Grab those bags over there,” Susie said, pointing to the chips.
Bethanne was put to work opening bags of potato chips and emptying them into plastic bowls while Susie made a salad.
Al and Max moved onto the deck, where Al turned on the barbecue.
“How long have you and Max been together?” Susie asked as she sliced tomatoes.
Bethanne peeled a cucumber. “We aren’t exactly together. We only met a few days ago.” Although it felt as though she’d known him for a lot longer...
“Really? Well, you found yourself a gem of a guy. I don’t know what happened to him. Max has never spoken about why he lives the way he does, but it’s obvious there’s some tragedy in his past.”
If Max hadn’t explained, then Bethanne didn’t feel she could.
“He’s done so much for others,” Susie went on. “Rooster told us that he helped a handicapped woman in Boston by replacing her roof. And a friend of ours told us about a family who was about to lose their home due to the husband’s unemployment. When the bank threatened to repossess it, Max stepped in and made the late payments.”
Just then Max appeared in the kitchen doorway. “What are you two talking about?” he asked suspiciously.
Susie rolled her eyes. “Why do men always assume we’re talking about them?”
“Ego,” Bethanne said, and they laughed. If any man didn’t suffer from an outsize ego—in her opinion, anyway—it was Max.
“Hey, Max, I bought you chocolate ice cream,” Susie said as she arranged silverware on the table on the deck. Smiling at Bethanne, she added, “He’s got a weakness for chocolate ice cream.”
Max snuck up behind Bethanne and slipped his arms around her. “What I have is a weakness for you,” he said, kissing her
cheek. He whispered, “Promise me you won’t believe a word these people tell you.”
“And why is that?”
“I already told you, Bethanne, I’m no saint.”
“You make it sound as if you’re ashamed of helping other people.”
“I’m not, but I don’t like to broadcast it.”
“So, you’re a lone wolf, a drifter who needs no one, riding off into the sunset.”
He frowned and muttered, “You making fun of me?” in a mock-ferocious voice.
Bethanne laughed. “Guess so.”
They ate hot-off-the-grill cheeseburgers around three o’clock. Bethanne liked his friends. Al and Susie carried the conversation, regaling her with stories about their children. Sherry was the youngest of three, and their problem child, although she’d successfully gone through rehab and had now returned to school. In large part due to Max, as the couple were quick to remind Bethanne. Max scowled every time they mentioned his name.
Bethanne helped with the cleanup and Max suggested they leave close to five. The afternoon had been perfect in every way. Al and his wife both hugged her before she went out to join Max on the Harley.
“He needs you,” Susie whispered to her. “He’s a lost soul.”
Bethanne smiled and hugged the other woman back. “I’m so glad I met you and Al.”
“Me, too. I hope we’ll see you again.”
She put the helmet on and climbed onto the bike. As they took off, engine roaring, Bethanne slipped her arms around Max’s middle and relaxed against him. After a while she loosened her grip. Occasionally she even stretched her arms out at her sides, feeling free and unencumbered. She sensed that she was finally getting to know him—that they’d breached some barrier.
The return to Branson seemed to take far less time than the trip to the lake.
Annie was sitting in the lobby waiting for Bethanne. “Mom!” she cried. “Where did you go? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“When did you call?” Her purse had been near her most of the day, but she hadn’t heard her cell.
“Half an hour ago.”
That explained it. “What did you need?”
“Everybody left me,” Annie complained.
Bethanne managed not to sigh—or say something sarcastic. “Where’s Grandma?”
“She’s still out with Rooster. They went to see the Oak Ridge Boys. At breakfast I said I didn’t want to go and Rooster jumped at the chance. I haven’t seen them since.”
Ruth had gone with Rooster. That was a shock. “You spent the entire day on your own?”
Annie nodded, then shrugged. “I had fun shopping, though.”
“That’s my girl.”
“So, where were you?”
Max stood beside her and they held hands. “I was with Max.”
“Hi, Annie,” he said, giving her a friendly smile.
“Well, duh, I figured that much,” she told her mother. “Hi,” she muttered grudgingly in Max’s direction.
“We went to see some friends of his.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe we could all go to dinner tonight,” Bethanne said.
Annie didn’t show much enthusiasm. “We’re leaving in the morning, right?”
“Yes, and according to your grandmother’s schedule, we’re headed for New Orleans.”
“That sounds great.”
“Max says it’s a real party town. Should be lots of fun.”
“More fun than Vegas?”
“A different kind of fun,” Max said. “I wish I could go, but I’m headed somewhere else.”
Annie didn’t look at all disappointed. She glanced at the doors and suddenly her face lit up. “Grandma!” she shouted, jumping to her feet.
Bethanne turned to see Ruth and Rooster walking into the hotel. “Rooster and I had the most wonderful day,” Ruth said, hurrying toward them.
“Two shows, one right after the other, and both of them exceptional.” Rooster looked delighted.
“I’m ready to get out of Missouri,” Annie announced to anyone who cared to listen.
“What about dinner?” Bethanne asked once again. “All of us together. Max and Rooster are leaving tomorrow, and so are we.”
“Count me out on dinner,” Ruth said. “I’m exhausted and we’ve got a full day coming up.”
“I’ll go with Grandma,” Annie said, as if she was glad of an excuse to escape. “We’ll just get room service.”
“You two are on your own,” Rooster said as the three of them strolled over to the elevator a few minutes later.
Max looked at Bethanne. “Maybe we should say our goodbyes now, as well.”
“How about a glass of wine?” she suggested instead.
He hesitated, then nodded slowly.
They found a vacant table in the lounge, and Bethanne studied the wine list. For the first time it felt awkward between them, as though they both feared what would happen next. In the morning they’d go their separate ways, and after that—she didn’t know.
They each ordered a glass of red wine, an Australian shiraz, which was promptly delivered.
Bethanne gazed down at her wine, hardly noticing its rich ruby color.
“I have to be in California next week. I don’t have a choice about that,” Max said.
“I know.”
Max’s hand closed over hers. “My brother’s handled the business ever since Kate died. It’s time I went back.”
“You’re really going home?”
Max gave her a lopsided grin. “Luke was beginning to think I was never going to return. A lot has changed in the past three years—in the business, in his life, in mine. I’m ready now, only I didn’t realize it until a few days ago. Until...you.”
She met his gaze and held it.
“You’ll go on to Florida, and we’ll connect again later this summer. If that’s what you decide.”
Bethanne started to say that was too long to wait.
He shook his head. “No, you need to be with Ruth and Annie, with your son and his bride. With Grant.”
Bethanne opened her mouth to protest, but again he stopped her.
“Make no mistake, I’d welcome the opportunity to explore where this relationship will take us, but I have things I need to attend to and so do you.” His expression was determined. Unwavering. “While you’re in Florida, you and Grant will have the chance to work this out—or not. Until you do, I’ll stay out of your life. I’ll abide by whatever decision you make.”
“What if...what if Grant and I don’t get back together?”
“Then let me know.”
“You’ll come to Seattle?”
“I’ll come wherever you are. Anyplace. Anytime. All you have to do is contact me.”
It sounded risky to Bethanne, scary, especially when she wasn’t sure of her own mind. She wanted Max to convince her they were meant to be together. He hadn’t. She wanted him to fight for her. He wouldn’t. The decision was hers.
“I don’t like this,” she confessed.
“Bethanne, we’re both high on emotion.” His hand cupped her cheek as if he felt the need to touch her, to hold on to her as long as he could.
They finished their wine, then returned to the front porch and sat in the swing, Max’s arm possessively around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. She wanted to keep these feelings with her forever.
Part of her wanted to argue with him, say she’d already made up her mind. Only she hadn’t. Not really. Twenty years with Grant couldn’t be easily shoved aside or forgotten. Max was right; they were high on emotion, on discovery. What they shared was fresh and new. Their feelings for each other had yet to be tested. All she had were these few days with Max. Seven days that h
ad indelibly marked her. But could it be more than just a memory, significant though that memory was? Should it?
Max escorted her to her room and kissed her good-night. Bethanne felt an urge to weep—but this time for reasons she understood far too well.
Twenty-Two
The next morning Annie was up at five-thirty, eager to hit the road. She turned on the bedside lamp and studied the road map. The day before had been a dead bore. Although she’d spent most of her time wandering from store to store and had even bought a few things, she’d grown tired of that.
The most interesting part of the day had been breakfast with her grandmother and Rooster. He seemed intent on letting them both know what a great guy Max was. She’d had some serious doubts about this biker. To all outward appearances, he was little more than a drifter. Her mother had hinted at the fact that Max owned a wine distribution business but she hadn’t said much. Annie was convinced it was because her mother didn’t know much.
But Rooster was obviously determined to fill in the blanks. He spent a good hour telling them about Max and his brother, Luke. He explained that Max had lost both his wife and his daughter and had gone off the deep end for a while.
Rooster turned every topic of conversation, every remark, into an opportunity to talk about Max.
When Grandma mentioned going to New Orleans, he’d said, “Max spent six months there.”
“Doing what?” Annie had asked skeptically.
“Building homes with Habitat for Humanity. He also joined a group that reconnected pets with their owners.”
“Oh.” Annie had assumed he’d been drinking and gambling. The fact that he was helping victims of Hurricane Katrina quickly trampled her sense of indignation.
“So the two of you are heading home to California,” Ruth said.
“We leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Going back to do what?” Annie had asked.
“Max is stepping into the role he left three years ago,” Rooster said. “He’ll be working in the family business.”
Annie made it clear that she wasn’t impressed. She refused to even hint to Rooster that her views of Max were starting to change, much as she didn’t want them to.
A Turn in the Road Page 21
