Maggie (Tales Behind the Veils)

by Violet Howe

  Despite my hurt, my entire system reacted in shock to the suggestion that anything would happen to Alberto.

  “No! No, absolutely not. Alberto is an incredible dancer, and he’s my best friend.”

  Gerry tucked his knuckle under my chin and lifted my face to his. “Then I shall make sure nothing happens to him. Your wish is my command, Willow.”

  Then his lips were on mine again, and as usual, any fears or concerns dissipated as a tide of sensations overtook me with the touch of his hands and the feel of his mouth on my skin.

  I was nineteen. I was young and beautiful. I was full of myself, and I had no idea how far in over my head I was.

  After weeks of rising passion and waning attempts to hold off, I gave my virginity to Gerry Tucker that night and sealed my fate.

  19 COWBOYS WEAR LOTS OF HATS

  I’d picked up the phone at least a dozen times throughout the week to call Dax and invite him to lunch, but every time I talked myself out of it before I dialed his number.

  My normal Saturday routine was to visit the farmer’s market after I finished my morning workout, but it was a drizzly, dreary, cold day, and I decided I’d rather be bundled under a blanket on the couch.

  It seemed every channel either had a western or a romantic comedy on, and nothing could tear my thoughts away from him.

  What did he like to do on Saturdays? Was he busy on the ranch, doing whatever cowboys do on the weekend? Was he writing music and strumming his guitar? Was he rescuing puppies or trying not to break his neck on Kratos?

  Finally, I gave in and dialed, holding my breath as it rang.

  “Well, hello there.”

  The rich timbre of his voice resonated through me, and it was like my body woke up and came to attention.

  “Hello.”

  “What are you doing on this blustery day?” he asked.

  I smiled and closed my eyes, picturing his face and the grin I could hear when he spoke.

  “I’m curled up under a blanket trying to find a decent movie on TV.”

  “Hmm. That sounds much better than what I’m doing, which is shoveling hay.”

  “Yeah. I’d pick this over that.”

  He chuckled, and my body reacted with a rush of heat strong enough that I had to fling the blanket to the side for relief.

  “I was wondering if you’re free for lunch,” I said, my voice tentative.

  He hesitated, and I wished I could pull the words back.

  “I could probably make that happen,” he answered after the pause. “What time were you thinking? And where did you come with up?”

  “There’s a little Thai place that’s closer to you, so you wouldn’t have to come into Orlando.”

  “I don’t mind driving to Orlando. You tell me where I need to be and what time, and I’ll be there.”

  I gave him directions to the Thai place, and we agreed to meet at one.

  It changed my entire outlook for the day. I switched off the television and cranked up the stereo before nestling into the tub for a long soak, eagerly anticipating the afternoon ahead.

  The wintry chill was perfect late-season sweater weather, so I opted for a pair of dark denim jeans tucked into knee-high boots, topping it off with an olive-green sweater that I knew would highlight my eyes and a dark brown open-front poncho with a scarf in shades of brown, green, and blue.

  His truck was already there when I pulled into the restaurant parking lot. I’d been hyper with excitement knowing I’d see him, and I couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across my face when he stepped out of the truck and walked toward my car.

  He was wearing his ever-present jeans and boots but no hat. His wavy hair was damp, and I could tell from the scented mixture of cologne and shampoo as he approached that he’d showered right before coming to meet me.

  “Hello,” he said, and his smile was so wide that I thought the excitement must be mutual.

  “Hi,” I said as he turned and motioned toward the restaurant.

  “After you.”

  He moved to open the restaurant door as we reached it, but then he hesitated and stepped aside without opening it, indicating I could go first. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, and I paused, which made him reach and grab the door at the same time I did. Then we both dropped our hands simultaneously, laughing in our awkwardness before he opened the door and held it.

  “Sorry about that,” he said as we took our seats. “I’m still getting used to all this.”

  “All what?”

  “What to do, what not to do. I was brought up with all the traditional manners. A man holds a door open for a lady, he walks on the traffic side of the sidewalk, he pays the check, holds her coat. My mama would have tanned my hide if I’d done any differently. Now, it’s not…well, I guess times have changed.”

  He paused as the waitress brought us menus and took our drink orders, and then he continued.

  “So, I apologize if I offend you by doing all that.”

  “Um, it doesn’t offend me. I just….” I paused, unsure of how to explain my feelings when I’d never examined the reason for them. “I suppose I don’t like feeling confined by the roles. I’ve been on my own a long time, so I take care of myself. It makes no sense to me to wait for you to open a door when I could do it.”

  He nodded. “I can understand that. I see it as more of a courtesy than anything else. I certainly don’t intend it to be confining.”

  “No, I know. I didn’t mean you, specifically.”

  “I’m trying to be aware of it, but it’s second nature to me. Habit. Not something I consciously think about, so I slip up.”

  His sheepish expression was endearing.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It shouldn’t be a big deal. If you’re standing there, and you want to open the door, you open it. I’ll walk through it. But if you’re on the other side of the car or somewhere it doesn’t make sense in the natural flow of things, then I’ll open it. I mean, I appreciate you trying to respect my feelings, and I’ll do the same and respect that it’s part of who you are to do it.”

  He smiled, and he seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders releasing some of the tension that had charged the air since the door debacle. “Sounds good. You know, when you get married as a young man, you kind of figure you’re done with worrying about all this. Then life throws a curveball, and you find yourself back in the deep end, trying to figure it all out again.”

  His smile faded and he looked toward the windows, taking a deep drink from the glass of water the waitress had brought.

  “So, you were married? How long?”

  “Twelve years.” He didn’t meet my eyes when he answered, and his shoulders and face were tight again with tension. “What about you? How long were you married?”

  It was my turn to tense up, and I hesitated answering, caught off guard by the question even though it was inevitable.

  I hated those questions, and I hated the answer. I’d faced it too many times over the years as the kids were growing up from well-meaning soccer moms, teachers, and play-date parents engaging in what should have been normal conversation.

  How long have you been divorced? Where does their dad live? How often do they see him?

  They were questions that hinted at normal life, yet my story and my children’s story wasn’t normal.

  Dax looked up when I didn’t answer, and I was surprised to see pain clouding the normally joyful green eyes. It struck me again that they were similar to my own.

  I took a deep breath and rushed out the words on the exhale. “I was never married.”

  Dax’s face reacted much the same way everyone else did—momentary shock almost immediately replaced by embarrassment that the question had been asked, followed soon after by a peering curiosity.

  “The kids’ dad…well, he…we never married.”

  I’d never found out a handy, catch-all answer to the question, which usually didn’t matter, because whatever awkward response I mumbled always put off all but the
most inquisitive people.

  In today’s more modern thinking society, there were plenty of people who didn’t marry, but when the kids were younger, we were the exception in the community around us.

  Many times I considered making up a story that I liked better than the truth, but it was dishonesty that had created the mess, and I refused to perpetuate it with more dishonesty.

  Luckily, once Cabe and Galen had graduated and moved on with their lives, the question rarely if ever came up, and it had been a long time since I’d had to deal with the heat of shame that was radiating from my body.

  “Oh. Okay.” His voice was solemn, and he gave a brief nod and looked down at the menu. If he wanted to know more, he wasn’t going to ask right then. “So, have you ever eaten here?”

  “Yes,” I said, thrilled that I didn’t have to explain my background. “My son, Cabe, attended the University of Central Florida, so we’d meet here as somewhat of a halfway point.”

  “Ah, UCF. I taught a couple of classes there a few years back.”

  I nearly choked on my water. “You taught classes? At UCF?”

  “Yeah. You okay?” he asked as I coughed and covered my mouth with the napkin.

  “Yes, just surprised. I wasn’t aware you were a teacher. Or professor.”

  “Oh, I’m not. It was for a specific study I had conducted at the ranch and the implications of the results. My master’s is in animal sciences, but I also have an extensive background in environmental science, and with the scope of landscape at the ranch, we’re able to partner with the university for quite a few studies.”

  He said it all so matter-of-factly that I thought perhaps he was going to ignore that my mouth was hanging open while he talked, but then he chuckled and leaned across the table to speak in a softer voice. “Should I be offended at how shocked you look right now?”

  I closed my mouth and tried to formulate words that weren’t insulting.

  “No. I didn’t…well, I…I guess I…well—”

  “You didn’t know they gave cowboys degrees?”

  “No, it’s not that,” I said, but in all truth, it had never occurred to me. I had assumed one didn’t need a degree to work on a ranch. Certainly, not a master’s degree.

  “It’s okay,” he said with a grin, almost as though he could read my thoughts. “I’m sure lots of people don’t think of cowboys needing degrees. But I’d say other than three I can think of off the top of my head, every employee we have at the ranch has at least a bachelor’s. Mostly in the sciences that might pertain to raising cattle, maintaining grasslands and water, conservation, and so on. A few have more business-related backgrounds, but those are usually the ones seeking to move into ranch management.”

  I decided honesty was the best policy, especially since my reaction had been too obvious to play off. “We’ve never actually discussed what it is you do on the ranch, so I suppose it did surprise me.”

  “I partner with our geneticists and nutritionists to make sure we’re producing the healthiest, heartiest beef cattle possible. I oversee our foremen and ensure they are staying on top of records and necessary care for the cattle and work with the state’s veterinarians in conjunction with our property. I’m in charge of the day-to-day operations of the breeding program. I also work hand-in-hand with the state of Florida’s conservation efforts to use the ranch for the benefit of learning about our environment. And I’ve been known to wrestle with a gator or two to relocate them when necessary.”

  My mouth was open again. “Wow. And here I thought you just rode horses into the lake and rescued puppies.”

  “Oh, I do that, too.”

  “Okay. So, you basically run the ranch?”

  He shook his head with a low whistle. “Oh, no, ma’am. Not at all. That would be my brother, Mitchell, and my daddy. They handle the business end—the sales, the contracts, anything to do with numbers and profits. There’s a few side businesses—sand pits, shell excavations, and others—and they take care of all that as well. I handle the animals and the land the animals are on. I’m not as important as it sounds. I happen to be in charge of some extremely capable people who make me look good, so I get to wear a lot of hats and have several titles.”

  The magnitude of the ranch’s operations stunned me, and I realized as the waitress approached that I hadn’t even looked at the menu.

  “Can you give us a minute longer?” I asked, and she smiled and left.

  “So, what do you recommend?” Dax asked without bothering to open the menu.

  “They have a great liver and raisins platter with fried rice.”

  “Well, I won’t be having that, I can assure you.”

  I laughed, and he picked up the menu.

  “I don’t know what you’d like,” I said. “Do you even eat Thai food? I guess I should have asked that before.”

  “Sure. I’m more interested in your recommendation than getting something I’d pick for myself, though.”

  After a brief discussion on the appropriate level of curry and whether or not he preferred rice or noodles, I ordered a platter of chicken panang and a Pad Thai plate with steamed dumplings and crab rangoons for starters.

  “That’s probably too much food, but those are my favorites, so worst case scenario I’ll have leftovers tomorrow,” I told him as the waitress took our menus and walked away.

  He asked how Galen’s wedding plans were coming, and I asked how the puppies were doing, surprised to find he’d taken pictures to show me with his phone.

  “Wow, they’ve really grown. It’s only been a week, right? Look how big they are. And how’s our mama dog doing?”

  He scrolled through and found a picture of her standing with Cody. “She’s good. Up and moving around fine now, so I think it was just exhaustion. If you’re not busy when we’re done here, you should ride out and see them. Say goodbye.”

  “What do you mean? They’re moving?”

  “Yeah, to the housing community on the big ranch. One of the cowboys is going to take them.”

  “What about the mom?” My heart hurt as I thought of her sad eyes.

  “Her, too. Once they’re weaned and a little older, he’ll start training them for herding.”

  “Did you try to find out who the mama belonged to? Did you ask your neighbors?”

  “I did put out a call to those who live in the area, but no one claimed her. Do you have any pets? You’re welcome to take one if you’d like.”

  “No, no, no. I babysit my son’s dog, Deacon, from time to time, but I’m not home enough to keep a dog company, and I’d hate for one to sit home alone without me.”

  “Well, if you’d like to come see them, you’re welcome to, and if you change your mind and decide to take one home, that’s fine, too.”

  We talked as we ate, and by the time I paid the check and we walked back to our vehicles, two hours had passed.

  “Thanks for lunch,” Dax said. “I’ll definitely come back here. Nice find.”

  “Thanks for joining me.” I had the oddest sensation of longing. I didn’t want to leave his company, and even though we’d spent the better part of the afternoon together, it didn’t seem long enough.

  “Alright, well, I guess I’ll be on my way,” he said, pulling his keys from his pocket. “Can I open your car door for you? Technically, where I’m standing I’m closer to it than you are, so that puts it in my territory, right?”

  His eyes held a bit of a competitive gleam, and I laughed as I judged the distance and conceded with a nod that he was indeed closer.

  I pressed the unlock button on my keys and waited for him to open the door before walking over and leaning against the car, not quite ready to get in and say goodbye.

  He stood with his hand on the door, and even in the cool, brisk breeze, I could feel the heat between us.

  “I enjoy spending time with you, Maggie,” he said, his voice just above a husky whisper.

  The air was charged with desire, and I wanted him to lean in and kiss me mo
re than I wanted to pull away.

  “Me too,” was all I could manage as I looked up at him, searching the green eyes clouded with emotions I couldn’t decipher. He sighed, and I braced for his touch, but it didn’t come.

  “You gonna come to the house? See the pups? Or do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

  His voice was thick and deep, and the rumble of it drove me wild. I considered making the first move, standing on my toes to reach his lips with my own, but my mind talked me out of it.

  It tried to talk me out of going to the ranch, but when I thought about driving back to Orlando alone and sitting on my couch watching movies, even with the prospect of calling up a friend and heading out to dinner, it was no contest. I knew I’d rather be at the ranch.

  He spoke up when I didn’t. “I’m not taking them for another couple of weeks. You’ve got time if you want to see them.”

  “Actually, today works for me if it works for you,” I said before I could change my mind. “I’d love to see them.”

  His smile spread across his face, and the light in his eyes stoked the fire that had been burning inside me since he stepped out of the truck hours earlier.

  I’d spent the last twenty-six years convincing myself that I didn’t need a man in my life, but I sure as hell wanted this one.

  20 TAKE A RIDE WITH ME

  I dialed Sandy as soon as I pulled onto the highway behind his truck.

  “I thought you were going to call me when you left the restaurant,” she said without a hello. “I’ve been on pins and needles checking my phone while I was setting the flowers for this wedding. Where’ve you been?”