Maggie (Tales Behind the Veils)

by Violet Howe

Especially since I don’t feel as old as it sounds.

  Since the age of thirty-two, I’ve always felt, somehow, like I was perpetually thirty-two.

  My age wasn’t something I gave much thought to on a daily basis, but when I did dwell on that big number looming on the horizon, I must admit it was a bit unsettling.

  I had held up well, I suppose. Healthy eating habits, regular exercise, meditation. I always tried to get plenty of sleep. I’d done what I could. But despite my best efforts, I saw my age in the mirror the day after I met Dax Pearson.

  I was going through my morning routine of stretches and movements at the barre, a holdover from my dance days that I had stayed committed to like it was a religion. It was as vital to starting my day as brushing my teeth or brewing my coffee.

  I’d never devoted much attention to my appearance as I pushed my body through the motions it had first learned as a young girl over forty years ago.

  Most mornings, I was lost in thought. Planning out the day ahead. Replaying a conversation with Galen or Cabe. Pondering what I would have for dinner.

  But the morning after our visit to the Silver Creek Ranch was different.

  The mirror held my focus as it shone a spotlight on the ravages of time.

  My arms, still lean and toned, waved at me with an annoying jiggle as I raised and lowered them.

  When I leaned toward the barre, I couldn’t help but stare in the mirror at the way the skin on the top of my shoulder crinkled into a jigsaw pattern of fine lines. When had that begun?

  I’d long ago noticed the loss of elasticity across my neck and chest, despite my Herculean devotion to daily sunscreen and the best anti-aging creams money could buy. But to see my shoulders betray me—shoulders once rounded and smooth, the pride of a strapless décolletage—was downright depressing.

  I stood and turned to see my profile, fixated on the depths to which gravity had tugged my breasts. I lifted my arms high above my head to make my bosom rise to its former perch, but sure enough, as soon as I lowered my arms, my breasts fell back into disgrace.

  I twisted my leg to the left and right and completed a series of tendues, jetes, and fondue, admiring the lean cut of my thigh muscle and the muscular curve of my calf. But when I glanced at the supporting leg, I could see the years overwhelming my kneecap as the excess skin pooled in tiny wrinkles.

  Dreading what I would see, I shifted to look behind me in the mirror, flexing my arms in various positions to watch the muscles contract across my upper back.

  Ah, there. I still had it. I could pull off a backless dress better than many women half my age. The sands of time had not taken that from me.

  But then my eyes drifted downward.

  When had my butt cheeks lost their pert roundness? Was that actually a sliver of shadow cast on the back of my upper thigh? I turned back to profile and flexed my glutes with all I had. They tightened as commanded, but it didn’t change the overall shape much. There was a flatness there where there’d been none before. What the hell had happened to me? And why hadn’t I noticed?

  My scale hadn’t budged in years. I’d worn the same pants size since Galen was born.

  Things had shifted a bit, sure, but that’s to be expected when a woman nears fifty. I stepped closer to the mirror and put my hands to my face, gingerly touching the lines at my eyes and pulling my eyelids up toward my brows.

  How had I suddenly become so much older?

  I didn’t feel any different.

  Certainly not like someone who was almost fifty. I mean, fifty. That’s half a century. That’s ancient.

  How could that possibly be me?

  I took a deep breath to dispel the cloud of dejection and abandoned the remainder of my workout to head downstairs for coffee.

  I didn’t have to question why I was suddenly so hyper-aware of my body’s inevitable changes.

  I knew why.

  It was that stupid cowboy.

  I’d been unable to stop thinking of him since Tyler and I left his ranch.

  It was ridiculous, really.

  We’d barely spoken beyond niceties, and yet, my thoughts kept returning to him.

  The taut muscles of his abdomen. The impressive size of his biceps. The broad shoulders.

  I swore as I realized I’d poured tomato juice in my coffee instead of creamer.

  What kind of spell had he put me under?

  Maybe it was hormonal. All part of that reaching fifty thing. Dealing with ‘the change’ and all.

  I’d certainly never reacted so strongly to any male presence before.

  Well, not as an adult. Not after everything that happened.

  What was it about Dax Pearson that had completely flipped my insides and set them ablaze?

  I wondered again if he had bought the property or built it. I wondered what had happened to the lady of the house to prevent her from getting that magnificent closet.

  And despite my protests to my daughter-in-law, I wondered what had motivated him to stop what he was doing with the horse and come inside to personally greet us.

  The piercing shriek of the fire alarm drew my attention to the smoking toast charred and blackened in my toaster oven.

  I cursed again, which was very out of character for my normally calm and reserved mornings, and I resolved to push Dax and fifty out of my head before I burned the house down or left for work without wearing a shirt.

  7 DEXTER J. PEARSON

  A busy morning of meetings served me well in getting my mind focused, but any hopes of not thinking about the owner of Silver Creek Ranch were dashed when my phone rang as I was leaving the mayor’s office.

  “This is Maggie,” I said as I walked faster to catch the light at the crosswalk before it changed.

  “Maggie Shaw? Just the person I was looking for. This is Dax Pearson from Silver Creek Ranch.”

  I knew it was him before he said his name. There was no mistaking the deep voice on the other end of the line, richly tinged with masculinity and rippling across my skin like a current.

  “Hi, Mr. Pearson. What can I do for you?”

  A smile immediately tickled the corners of my mouth, and I couldn’t believe how easily my body reacted to him.

  “Actually, I was calling to see if there was anything I could do for you. That we could do for you. The ranch. I wanted to apologize for the commotion yesterday and assure you that nothing like that would happen on the night of your daughter’s wedding.”

  “Really? Because Bronwyn promised us a repeat performance for the evening’s entertainment. I believe she mentioned you’d be carrying sparklers for the dismount this time.” The mental image made me smile as I spoke.

  “Well, as entertaining as I’m sure that would be for your wedding guests, it was more of a one-time thing.”

  “Ah, a limited-run show. I guess we were fortunate to have caught it.”

  I realized the other pedestrians had already crossed the side street and the crosswalk countdown was nearing zero, so I rushed across with a glance toward the waiting traffic.

  “Yes, fortunate indeed,” he said. “I’m glad I could add to the value of your tour.”

  We both fell silent for an awkward pause, and I replayed Bronwyn’s comment in my head about Dax having nothing to do with wedding events. Had she made him call to apologize or was this his own doing?

  As though he could hear my thoughts, he cleared his throat and continued.

  “I’m not normally involved with weddings—that’s Bronwyn’s area of expertise—but I thought it might be appropriate for me to—”

  A car horn blasted through the air as I stepped into the next intersection, and I jumped back to the sidewalk in shock, embarrassed and a little frightened at the fact that I’d walked into oncoming traffic.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. I didn’t see the car, but he saw me, so all is good.”

  My heart was pounding from the potentially deadly mistake I’d made, but also in part because I didn’t
understand what was happening to me. What was it about this man that distracted me and made the world disappear? Whatever it was, I obviously needed to get as far away from him as possible, for the sake of my own life, it seemed.

  “I need to go,” I said, sounding much harsher than I’d intended.

  “Okay, you have our number at the ranch, and now you have my number. So, if either Bronwyn or I could be of any assistance, just give us a call.”

  “Will do. Thank you.” I hung up before any further disaster befell me.

  I reached for the door to the Performing Arts Center just as my assistant, Karin, pushed it open and exited with a group of staff members.

  “We’re heading out for lunch,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Um, I work here?”

  Karin laughed. “Yeah, but you told Larry this morning you’d cover the hospital luncheon for him. You know, the dedication ceremony?”

  The realization dawned in my brain like an explosion.

  “Crap! I completely forgot. Damn. I even parked by the mayor’s office so I could leave straight from there and not be late.” I looked down at my watch and cursed again.

  “So, your car’s still there?”

  “Yes. There’s no way I’ll make it by the time I get back to my car and drive to the hospital.”

  “Dana is parked right there by the curb. We’ll give you a ride to the hospital, and then just call me when the luncheon is done and I’ll come get you.”

  I looked at my watch again, willing it to miraculously turn back time.

  “All right,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe I can catch a ride from someone there or get a taxi so you don’t have to make another trip.”

  Karin smiled. “I don’t mind. I’m pretty sure my boss will be okay with me leaving the office.” She winked as we walked toward Dana’s car.

  “Your boss is in some kind of fog today,” I said. “She probably should just go back home and pull the covers over her head.”

  “I knew something was off. You put the coffee pot in the refrigerator this morning and set the creamer on the hot plate. Luckily, I came into the break room right as you were leaving and prevented the creamer from catching on fire.”

  My eyes widened as I realized I had no memory of the incident.

  “I may need to see a doctor,” I said. “I wonder if I should be on some type of supplement for memory or distraction.”

  Dana smiled as she unlocked her car and motioned for Karin and me to get in. “Happens to the best of us as we get older. I have to make notes for everything. Last week, I looked everywhere for my phone before I realized I was holding it up to my ear talking into it.”

  “You’re not that old, Dana,” Karin said. “How old are you?”

  “I’m fifty-three.”

  “Oh wow,” Karin gasped. “I didn’t realize you were that old!”

  I sat up and grabbed the side of her seat. “Excuse me, Miss Twenty-three. That’s not that old. Show some respect for your elders, here.”

  Dana and I laughed as Karin stammered out an attempt at an apology.

  “When I was your age, I felt like fifty was basically one foot in the grave,” Dana said. “But the closer you get to it, the younger it seems. Am I right, Maggie?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’m nowhere near fifty.” I winked at Karin as she looked over her shoulder at me.

  “Ha! Okay. Leave me hanging out here all alone,” Dana said. “I still swear you dye that hair red. It’s not natural for a woman to have no gray at all. C’mon. Tell the truth. Is that real or is it L’Oreal?”

  “Eat your heart out, honey. L’Oreal has never touched this head of hair!”

  We continued to chat about aging until we’d reached the hospital. I smiled and thanked them both as I gathered my briefcase and exited the car.

  I was still smiling when I entered the lobby, but my smile faded when I reached the entrance of the banquet room and could hear the speaker from the other side of the doors. He’d already started the presentation, which meant I’d have to enter the room late. In front of everyone.

  My hands immediately went clammy, and I briefly considered ditching the whole luncheon and catching a taxi back to my office. Unfortunately, I’d promised our community relations director that I would show up on behalf of the Performing Arts Center, so I had to make an appearance.

  I took a deep breath and eased the door open, praying that everyone would be so focused on the speaker that my tardiness would go unnoticed. I scanned the tables to find an empty seat and was shocked to lock eyes with Dax Pearson.

  He raised his eyebrows and grinned, and I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest. I was already smiling back at him before I could stop myself.

  He lifted his head and scanned the room as well, pointing to an empty spot at a table near him.

  A few heads turned here and there as I made my way to the empty seat Dax had indicated, careful not to make eye contact with him again in case I tripped and fell flat on my face.

  The lights dimmed just as I took my seat, and I was grateful for the opportunity to disappear in the darkness. I only half paid attention to the video showcasing the hospital’s new state-of-the-art trauma unit, but it was impossible to ignore the banner at the end of the video thanking the donors who made it possible.

  The third name on the short list of six was Dexter J. Pearson.

  I had wondered if Dax was a nickname.

  The speaker droned on from the podium as the lights came back up, but I couldn’t focus on his words. I ate my salad in silence, willing myself not to turn and look in Dax’s direction.

  When the banquet server cleared my plate, I took a long sip of unsweetened tea, casually looking toward Dax’s table over the rim of my glass.

  He was staring at me, a faint grin pulling at one side of his mouth, his eyes sparkling with some unknown mischief.

  I looked back to the front of the room, quickly setting the glass of tea down, but miscalculating the move. The glass toppled, and tea and ice splashed across the table, drawing a chorus of gasps from those seated with me.

  Heat flooded my cheeks, and my heart pounded so loud I was worried the whole room would hear it. I frantically dabbed at the wet mess with my napkin and apologized to those at my table as the server picked up the stray ice cubes.

  I didn’t dare look at Dax again for the rest of the meal, but I could feel his eyes on me, and my pulse continued to race.

  When the presentation ended and the room stood to mingle, I went through the motions of shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with those around me, but Dax was always in my peripheral. I stole glances as he greeted people and shook hands, and more than once I had to apologize for missing what was said to me while my attention was focused on him.

  Eventually, I turned my back so I wouldn’t get caught staring, but I could still feel his presence, the ache inside me pulling toward him like gravity.

  “Well, this is fortuitous!” he said behind me, and a quiver tickled my skin as I turned to face him, catching my breath at the sight of his smile lighting up his face.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Fortuitous. It means—”

  “I know what it means, Wyatt Earp,” I said, returning his smile. “How is this lucky?”

  “Well, we were just talking on the phone earlier, and now, here you are! I had no idea you’d be here.”

  “I had no idea you were one of the donors for the new unit. That’s wonderful.”

  I thought I saw a faint red flush color his cheeks, but before he could respond, someone reached to shake his hand, and then another, and soon he was surrounded by a group of people. I stood there for a moment watching him interact, struck again by how handsome he was. He wore a pair of dark denim jeans with a pair of shiny black boots. His blue Oxford shirt was open at the collar, and the sleeves were rolled perfectly crisp on his forearms. It was the first time I’d seen him with dry hair, and I was surprised to see it was a lighter brown t
han I’d expected, almost blond in places where it caught the light.

  The green of his eyes was a softer hue than I remembered, more like moss in the bright florescent light of the room. Less like mine than I had thought.

  I waited a few minutes, but as his conversation got more involved, I felt like a groupie standing on the sidelines waiting for an autograph, so I gathered my briefcase and turned to go.

  “Maggie, wait,” Dax called out as I headed for the door. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

  I stopped and waited for him to catch up with me.

  “Where ya headed?” he asked.

  “Back to the office. I was out all morning for meetings. Need to catch up on messages and emails.”

  I greeted a few people who spoke to me as they passed, and I waited as someone stopped to speak with Dax.

  My body seemed to buzz in response to his presence. A wave of heat ran through me, and my heart beat so rapidly it almost made me dizzy. The sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it wasn’t something I felt comfortable with, either.

  It was too much like the involuntary passion I’d felt before, and I had vowed long ago never to be that out of control again.

  “Excuse me. I need to go,” I said, interrupting his conversation with a banker I recognized.

  “Let me walk you out,” Dax said, and then he turned to shake the banker’s hand. “Troy, we’ll talk later. See if you can get all the parties in the same room, and I’ll be there.”

  He held the door open for me as we exited the room, and I could feel the heat emanating from his body in the close proximity. The ache within me began to build in intensity, and I took a deep breath in my refusal to let it grow.

  That turned out to be a big mistake, because the breath filled my nostrils with the scent of him.

  Clean, fresh spearmint. A touch of lavender. A heady hint of sage. And that indescribable allure of masculinity.

  I had to get away from the man. He was an unwelcome reminder that my hormones were likely raging in the metamorphosis of my body’s aging process.

  “Back to the office, huh?” he asked as we walked back toward the hospital entrance. “And where’s that? Where do you work?”