by Diana Palmer
“You aren’t?” she asked with wet eyes.
“We aren’t.” Odalie giggled. “He’s my friend. I love him. But not like that,” she added softly.
“And she’s my friend,” Cort added. He smiled down at Maddie. “I went a little goofy over her, but, then, I got over it.”
“Gee, thanks,” Odalie said with amused sarcasm.
“You know what I mean.” He laughed. “You’re beautiful and talented.”
“Not as talented as our friend over there.” She indicated Maddie, with a warm smile. “She has magic in her hands.”
“And other places,” Cort mused, looking pointedly at her mouth.
She hid her face against him. He cuddled her close.
“Oh, dear,” Sadie said from the doorway. “Maddie, he’s back! What are you going to tell him?”
“Tell who?” Cort asked. He turned. His face grew hard. “Oh. Him. My dad gave me an earful about him when I got home.”
He put Maddie gently back down into the wheelchair.
“You didn’t encourage him?” he asked her.
She grimaced. “The medical bills and doctor bills and feed bills all came in at once,” she began miserably. “I couldn’t even pay taxes. He offered me a fortune...”
“We’re paying the medical bills,” Odalie told her firmly. “We even said so.”
“It’s not right to ask you,” Maddie said stubbornly.
“That’s okay. You’re not asking. We’re telling.” Odalie said.
“Exactly.” Cort was looking more dangerous by the second as the developer got out of his car with a briefcase. “My dad said you’ve had more cows killed over here, too.”
“Yes.” She was so miserable she could hardly talk.
“Dad found out a lot more than that about him. He was arrested up in Billings, Montana, on charges of intimidation and poisoning in another land deal,” Cort added. “He’s out on bond, but apparently it didn’t teach him a thing.”
“Well, he threatened to plant anthrax in my herd and have the feds come out and destroy them,” she said sadly. “He says if I don’t sell to him, he’ll do it. I think he will.”
“He might have,” Cort said mysteriously. “Good thing my dad has a real suspicious nature and watches a lot of spy films.”
“Excuse me?” Maddie inquired.
He grinned. “Wait and see, honey.” He bent and kissed the tip of her nose.
Odalie laughed softly. “One fried developer, coming right up,” she teased, and it was obvious that she wasn’t jealous of Maddie at all.
* * *
THERE WAS A tap at the door and the developer walked right in. He was so intent on his contracts that he must not have noticed the other car in the driveway. “Miss Lane, I’ve brought the paper...work—” He stopped dead when he saw her companions.
“You can take your paperwork and shove it,” Cort said pleasantly. He tilted his Stetson over one eye and put both hands on his narrow hips. “Or you can argue. Personally, I’d love it if you argued.”
“She said she wanted to sell,” the developer shot back. But he didn’t move a step closer.
“She changed her mind,” Cort replied.
“You changed it for her,” the developer snarled. “Well, she can just change it right back. Things happen sometimes when people don’t make the right decisions.”
“You mean diseases can be planted in cattle?” Odalie asked sweetly.
The older man gave her a wary look. “What do you mean?”
“Maddie told us how you threatened her,” Cort said evenly.
Lawson hesitated. “You can’t prove that.”
Cort smiled. “I don’t have to.” He pulled out a DVD in a plastic sleeve and held it up. “You’re very trusting, Lawson. I mean, you knew there was surveillance equipment all over the ranch, but you didn’t guess the house and porch were wired as well?”
Lawson looked a lot less confident. “You’re bluffing.”
Cort didn’t look like he was bluffing. “My dad has a call in to the district attorney up in Billings, Montana. I believe you’re facing indictment there for the destruction of a purebred herd of Herefords because of suspected anthrax?”
“They can’t prove that!”
“I’m afraid they can,” Cort replied. “There are two witnesses, one of whom used to work with you,” he added easily. “He’s willing to testify to save his butt.” He held up the DVD. “This may not be admissible in court, but it will certainly help to encourage charges against you here for the loss of Miss Lane’s purebred stock.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” the developer said harshly.
“I would dare,” Cort replied.
The developer gripped his briefcase tighter. “On second thought,” he said, looking around with disdain, “I’ve decided I don’t want this property. It’s not good enough for the sort of development I have in mind, and the location is terrible for business. Sorry,” he spat at Maddie. “I guess you’ll have to manage some other way to pay your medical bills.”
“Speaking of medical bills,” Cort said angrily, and stepped forward.
“Now, Cort,” Maddie exclaimed.
The developer turned and almost ran out of the house to his car. He fumbled to start it and managed to get it in gear just before Cort got to him. He sped out the driveway, fishtailing all the way.
Cort was almost bent over double laughing when he went back into the house. He stopped when three wide-eyed females gaped at him worriedly.
“Oh, I wasn’t going to kill him,” he said, still laughing. “But I didn’t mind letting him think I might. What do you want to bet that he’s out of town by tonight and can’t be reached by telephone?”
“I wouldn’t bet against that,” Odalie agreed.
“Me, neither,” Sadie said.
“Dad said that Lawson’s in more trouble than he can manage up in Billings already. I don’t expect he’ll wait around for more charges to be filed here.”
“Are you going to turn that DVD over to the district attorney?” she asked, nodding toward the jacketed disc.
He glanced at her. “And give up my best performance of ‘Recuerdos de la Alhambra?’ he exclaimed. “I’ll never get this good a recording again!”
Maddie’s eyes brightened. “You were bluffing!”
“For all I was worth.” He chuckled.
“Cort, you’re wonderful!”
He pursed his lips. “Am I, now?”
“We could take a vote,” Odalie suggested. “You’ve got mine.”
“And mine!” Sadie agreed. “Oh, Maddie, you’ll have a way to make a living now,” she exclaimed, indicating the little fairy. “You won’t have to sell our ranch!”
“No, but we still have the problem of running it,” Maddie said heavily. “If I’m going to be spending my life sculpting, and thanks to you two, I probably will—” she grinned “—who’s going to manage the ranch?”
“I think we can work something out about that,” Cort told her, and his dark eyes were flashing with amusement. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe Ben could manage it?”
Cort nodded. “He’s a good man, with a good business head. We’ll see.”
We’ll see? She stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. It was an odd statement. But before she could question it, Sadie went into the kitchen.
“Who wants chocolate pound cake?” she asked.
Three hands went up, and all discussion about the ranch went away.
* * *
MADDIE WANTED TO know all about the doll collector. He was a man in his fifties, very distinguished and he had a collection that was famous all over the world.
“There are magazines devoted to collectors,” Odalie said excitedly. “They showcased his collection last year. I met him when we were at the Met last year during opera season. We spoke and he said that he loved small, very intricate work. When I saw your sculptures, I remembered him. I looked him up on his we
bsite and phoned him. He said he was always looking for new talent, but he wanted to see what you could do. So I asked him for a photo of someone he’d like made into a sculpture and he faxed me the one I gave you.”
“I will never be able to repay you for this,” Maddie said fervently.
“Maddie, you already have, over and over,” Odalie said softly. “Most especially with that little fairy statue that looks just like me.” She shook her head. “I’ve never owned anything so beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“Besides, you’re my best friend,” Odalie said with a gamine grin. “I have to take care of you.”
Maddie felt all warm inside. “I’ll take care of you, if you ever need me to,” she promised.
Odalie flushed. “Thanks.”
“This is great cake,” Cort murmured. “Can you cook?” he asked Maddie.
“Yes, but not so much right now.” She indicated the wheelchair with a grimace.
“Give it time,” he said gently. He smiled, and his whole face grew radiant as he looked at her. “You’ll be out of that thing before you know it.”
“You think so?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes, I do.”
She smiled. He smiled back. Odalie smiled into her cake and pretended not to notice that they couldn’t take their eyes off each other.
* * *
ODALIE SAID HER goodbyes and gave Maddie the collector’s telephone number so that she could thank him personally for giving her fairy a good home. But Cort lingered.
He bent over the wheelchair, his hands on the arms, and looked into Maddie’s eyes. “Later we’ll talk about going behind my back to do business with a crook.”
“I was scared. And not just that he might poison my cattle. There were so many bills!”
He brushed his mouth over her lips. “I told you I’d take care of all those bills.”
“But they all came due, and you’ve done so much...I couldn’t ask...”
He was kissing her. It made talking hard.
She reached up with cold, nervous hands and framed his face in them. She looked into his eyes and saw secrets revealed there. Her breath caught. “It isn’t Odalie,” she stammered. “It’s me.”
He nodded. And he didn’t smile. “It was always you. I just didn’t know it until there was a good chance that I was going to lose you.” He smiled tightly then. “Couldn’t do that. Couldn’t live, if you didn’t.”
She bit her lip, fighting tears.
He kissed them away. “I don’t have a life without you,” he whispered at her nose. “So we have to make plans.”
“When?” she asked, bursting with happiness.
“When you’re out of that wheelchair,” he said. He gave her a wicked smile. “Because when we start talking, things are apt to get, well, physical.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
She laughed.
He laughed.
He kissed her affectionately and stood back up. “I’ll drive Odalie home. I’ll call you later. And I’ll see you tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after. And the day after that...”
“And the day after that?” she prompted.
“Don’t get pushy,” he teased.
He threw up a hand and went out to the car. This time, when he drove off with Odalie, Maddie didn’t go through pangs of jealousy. The look in his eyes had been as sweet as a promise.
EPILOGUE
PHYSICAL THERAPY SEEMED to go on forever. The days turned to weeks, the leaves began to fall. The cows grew big with calves. Rain had come in time for some of the grain crops to come to harvest, and there would be enough hay, hopefully, to get them through the winter.
Maddie’s legs were growing stronger. Little by little, she made progress.
Odalie and Cort were still around, prodding her, keeping her spirits up during the long mending process. She didn’t let herself get discouraged. She created new fairies and Odalie shipped them off, carefully packed, to a man named Angus Moore, who acted as Maddie’s agent and sold her dainty little creations for what amounted to a small fortune for the artist.
The developer, sure enough, left town and left no forwarding address. Gossip was that the authorities wanted to talk to him about several cases of dead cattle on properties he’d tried to buy in several states. Maddie hoped they caught up with him one day.
* * *
MEANWHILE, CORT CAME over every night for supper. He brought his guitar most nights, and serenaded Maddie on the porch until the nights got too cold for that. Then he serenaded her in the living room, by the fireplace with its leaping flames while she curled up under a blanket on the sofa.
From time to time, when Sadie was occupied in the kitchen, he curled up under the blanket with her.
She loved his big hands smoothing her bare skin under her shirt, the warmth and strength of them arousing sensations that grew sweeter by the day. He was familiar to her now. She had no fear of his temper. He didn’t lose it with her, although he’d been volatile about a man who left a gate open and cattle poured through it onto the highway. At least none of the cattle was injured, and no cars were wrecked.
“He was just a kid,” Cort murmured against her collarbone. “He works for us after school. Usually does a pretty good job, too, cleaning out the stables.”
She arched her back and winced.
“Damn.” He lifted his head and his hands stilled on her body. “Too soon.”
She looked miserable.
He laughed. He peered toward the doorway before he slid the hem of her T-shirt up under her chin and looked at the pert little breasts he’d uncovered. “Buried treasure,” he whispered, “and I’m a pirate...”
She moaned.
“Stop that. She’ll hear you.”
She bit her lip and gave him an anguished look. He grinned before he bent his head again, producing even more eloquent sounds that were, thankfully, soon muffled by his mouth.
But things between them were heating up more every day. She had his shirt unbuttoned just before he eased over her. Her hard-tipped breasts nestled into the thick hair on his muscular chest and one long, powerful leg eased between both of hers. He levered himself down very gently while he was kissing her, but she felt the quick, hard swell of him as he began to move helplessly on her, grinding his hips into hers.
“Oh, God,” he bit off. He jerked himself back and up, to sit beside her on the sofa with his head bent, shuddering.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered shakily.
He drew in short, harsh breaths while his hands worked at buttoning up the shirt. “Well, I’m not,” he murmured, glancing down at her. He groaned. “Honey, you have to cover those up or we’re going to be back at first base all over again!”
She looked down and flushed a little as she pulled her shirt down and fumbled behind her to do up the bra again. “First base.”
He laughed softly. “First base.”
She beamed at him. “I’m getting better every day. It won’t be long.”
“It had better not be,” he sighed. “I think I’ll die of it pretty soon.”
“No!”
“Just kidding.” He turned on the sofa and looked down at her with warm, dark, possessive eyes. “I talked to a minister.”
“You did? What did he have to say?”
He traced her nose. “We have to have a marriage license first.”
Her heart jumped. They’d been kissing and petting for quite a long time, and he’d insinuated, but he’d never actually asked.
“I thought we might get one with flowers and stuff. You know. So it would look nice framed on the wall.”
“Framed.”
He nodded. His eyes were steady on her face. “Madeline Edith Lane, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked softly.
She fought tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes!”
He brushed the tears away, his eyes so dark they seemed black. “I’ll love you all my life,” he whispered. “I’ll love you until the sun burns out.”
/> “I’ll love you longer,” she whispered back, and it was all there, in her eyes and his.
He smiled slowly. “And we’ll have beautiful kids,” he said softly. He pushed back her hair. “Absolutely beautiful. Like you.”
Now she was really bawling.
He pulled her gently into his arms and across his lap, and rocked her and kissed away the tears.
Sadie came walking in with coffee and stopped dead. “Oh, goodness, what’s wrong?”
“I told her we were going to have beautiful kids,” he said with a chuckle. “She’s very emotional.”
“Beautiful kids? You’re going to get married?” Sadie exclaimed.
“Yes.” Maddie smiled.
“Whoopee!”
“Oh, dear!” Maddie exclaimed.
Sadie looked down at the remains of the glass coffeepot and two ceramic mugs. “Oh, dear,” she echoed.
Cort just laughed. But then, like the gentleman he was, he went to help Sadie clean up the mess.
* * *
THEY WERE MARRIED at Christmas. Maddie was able to wear an exquisite designer gown that Odalie had insisted on buying for her, as her “something new.” It was an A-line gown of white satin with cap sleeves and a lacy bodice that went up to encase her throat like a high-necked Victorian dress.
There was a train, also of delicate white lace, and a fingertip veil with lace and appliquéd roses. She wore lace gloves and carried a bouquet of white roses. There was a single red rose in the center of the bouquet. One red rose for true love, Cort had insisted, and white ones for purity because in a modern age of easy virtue, Maddie was a throwback to Victorian times. She went to her marriage a virgin, and never apologized once for not following the crowd.
She walked down the aisle on the arm of Cole Everett, who had volunteered to give her away. Odalie was her maid of honor. Heather Everett and Shelby Brannt were her matrons of honor. Four local girls she’d known all her life were bridesmaids, and John Everett was Cort’s best man.
At an altar with pots of white and red roses they were married in the local Methodist church, where all three families were members. The minister had preached the funeral of most of their deceased kin. He was elderly and kind, and beloved of the community.
