Thimbles And Thistles (Baker City Brides Book 2)

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Oh, must you leave so soon, Mr. MacGregor?” Maggie batted her lashes at him again. He swallowed twice and nodded his head before hurrying down her hall. The sound of his boots thumping down the stairs and the slamming of the back door echoed into the kitchen.

  With a satisfied sigh, she took a bite of her cake. “It is good cake, isn’t it?”

  Tully tossed down his napkin and gave her a cold stare. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Mags, but it won’t end well. I suggest you stop right now.”

  Maggie’s smile faded and she returned Tully’s glare. “I don’t know who gave you leave to be the boss over me, but you don’t have a right to it, Tully Barrett. You’re a good and dear friend, but I won’t tolerate you trying to run my life. I’ve got enough trouble as it is without you acting like an overbearing cavedweller.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Tully stood so fast his chair tipped over and he stomped downstairs, slamming the door behind him.

  Maggie set the chair upright and made herself a cup of tea. She resumed her seat at the table and grinned. “Maybe both those hard-headed men learned a little something this evening.”

  If Ian had learned one thing, it was to stay away from Maggie Dalton.

  As he marched through town to his house in the gathering darkness, he played back the unbelievable experience he’d just endured.

  Something had overcome Maggie — some spiteful, ornery thing. The fact that she played him against Tully seemed perfectly clear as he walked home. The reasons why remained out of his grasp.

  Had the invitation to dinner been a genuine offer for her to apologize for her curt departure the other day? Or was it merely a ruse to taunt him in front of the sheriff. Had she used him to make Tully jealous? The man looked mad enough to beat him to a pulp, and that was before Maggie started her outrageous flirting.

  Was the woman daft?

  Did she truly have no notion what she did to him?

  Regardless of Tully’s presence, Ian almost surrendered to the urge to pull her onto his lap and kiss her senseless when she leaned down and her sweet breath blew across his neck.

  She stirred yearnings and longings in him no other woman ever had. For a moment — a brief, blissful, moment — he’d reveled in the attention she’d lavished upon him.

  Surprised she’d remembered the phrase “dinna fash yerself,” when she spoke it so well in a husky brogue, it left him nearly undone.

  While Maggie might think she played a game, the truth of the matter was she played with fire. If she continued to light Ian’s, he didn’t think he should be held responsible for his actions. Not when she batted those long, feathery eyelashes at him, winked flirtatiously, flooded his senses with her alluring fragrance, and filled his mind with forbidden thoughts.

  Furious as he stomped inside his house, Ian yanked off his coat, ran cool water over his hot hands, and splashed it on his fevered cheeks.

  He might be many things, but Ian MacGregor would never be anyone’s fool.

  Chapter Four

  Ian’s lumber wagon rolled down the street with a heavy load, capturing Maggie’s interest as she sat by her shop window. With her gaze fastened on the burly lumberman and not on her work, the needle bounced off her thimble and jabbed her finger.

  “Ouch!” She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked away a drop of blood before releasing an aggravated sigh.

  Since the debacle at dinner two weeks ago, neither Tully nor Ian had spoken to her. While she’d merely thought to teach them both a lesson, she, in turn, had learned several. One of the most important was to avoid wounding a man’s ego.

  Maggie had learned that lesson well during her marriage to Daniel. It had been so many years, though, she’d nearly forgotten how to handle the fragile, tender thing called male pride.

  No longer interested in finishing the hem on the dress in her lap, Maggie set it aside and removed her thimble. She wished she could close the shop for the afternoon and go for a ride. Time spent on the back of a horse out in the hills cleared her head and gave her a fresh perspective.

  Tully kept her horse at his barn but she hated the thought of encountering him since he was still mad at her. She missed him stopping by her shop at least once a day to check on her. He always came to dinner on Thursdays and sometimes joined her for lunch on Sundays. Occasionally, they rode out to Thane and Jemma’s together on her day off. This week, she’d stayed home, not wanting to admit to Jemma what a mess she’d made of things when she only meant to tease both Tully and Ian.

  Although the Scotsman seemed capable of dishing out teasing, he certainly had a problem taking it. Tully wasn’t any better.

  Restless, Maggie went back to her workroom and dug through a basket of trims, looking for something, although uncertain what it was she wanted. Disturbed, she gave the basket a toss, spilling ribbons, silk roses, and bits of lace across the floor.

  “Well, blast it all, anyway!” Out of sorts, she crossed to the front of her shop and locked the door then turned the “open” sign to “closed.”

  Neglectful of well-mannered demureness, she lifted her skirts and took the stairs to her apartment two at a time. Quickly changing into a split skirt, her riding boots, and a blouse, she rushed down the stairs and out the back door.

  Even if she couldn’t go for a ride, she could at least enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. As she strode out of town and along the river, she set a fast pace. Deliberately avoiding the path near Ian’s lumberyard, she went the opposite direction. She walked until her legs were tired, then found a log to sit on near the bank. As the sun warmed her face, she leaned back and sighed.

  After glancing around to make sure she was alone, she took the pins from her dark hair and let the curls tumble around her shoulders.

  For the first time in days, her shoulders relaxed as peace settled over her. She closed her eyes and soaked in the silence, fresh air, and solitude.

  Exhausted, Maggie stretched out on the grass and indulged in a much-needed nap.

  A hand clamped over her mouth, drawing her from her slumber. The whispered words, “don’t scream,” sent her into an immediate panic.

  Maggie drew back her leg and landed a powerful kick on her would-be attacker. She rolled away, jumped to her feet, and pulled out the revolver she kept in her pocket.

  Prepared to shoot the gun in her hand, she stopped before blowing a hole through Tully. He bent over, groaning in pain, as he glared at her.

  “What the he…” Tully gasped and drew in a ragged breath. “Are you trying to injure me for life, Mags? That was one painful kick.”

  Maggie pocketed her revolver and grinned at her friend. “Serves you right for sneaking up on me.”

  Tully remained bent over with his hands braced on his thighs. The gaze he leveled at her held a challenge and a hint of reproach. “You ought to thank your lucky stars it was me that happened upon you out here sleeping in the meadow like some storybook princess instead of someone up to no good. As soundly as you slept, anyone could have made off with you before you had a chance to react.”

  “As you just discovered, I’m not easy prey.” Maggie brushed her hand across the back of her skirt, dislodging bits of grass. “Why are you out here, Tully? It’s not like you to be wandering around, plucking flowers. Don’t you have criminals to terrorize and girls to make swoon as you pass by?”

  Tully motioned for her to take a seat on a log then lowered himself to it. He handed her the clover he’d picked earlier and dropped when she kicked him. “I noticed you hung a closed sign in the window and decided something must be wrong since you never close the shop early. I asked around and Mrs. Eagan said she saw you walk this direction. Thought I’d make sure everything was fine.”

  He sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. “You really should be careful, Maggie. The town’s growing and that means crime increases, too. A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t take off alone.”

  “So if I was an ugly woman it would be fine?” Maggie couldn’t
help but goad Tully. It annoyed her he’d snuck up on her almost as much as the fact he was right. She did need to be more careful.

  Angry, Tully removed his hat and forked his fingers through his hair. “That ain’t what I meant and you know it. Dang it, Maggie! What’s gotten into you lately? And what was that whole dinner fiasco with MacGregor about?”

  Irritated, she started to jump up and walk back to town, but Tully grabbed her arm and pulled her back down beside him. “Maggie, we’ve been friends for a long, long time. You’ve known me since I was barely old enough to shave. You also know I’d do anything for you, so tell me what’s eatin’ at you. I’ve never known you to be a flirt but you certainly flummoxed poor Ian the other night.”

  Contrite, Maggie released the breath she’d held and leaned against Tully. He draped a comforting arm around her shoulders and held her against his side. “I don’t know, Tully. I… just… it’s not…” Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes, and Maggie worked to hold them in check.

  “It’s not what, honey? Come on, tell ol’ Tully what’s wrong.”

  “Everything, Tully. I’m tired of trying to move on and let go. I miss Daniel. I miss his laughter, and the sound of his boots outside the door, and the way he’d call me Magpie and waltz me around the kitchen.” She drew in a choppy breath and brushed at the tears trailing down her cheeks. “I’m so tired of being tired and lonely, Tully. I’m tired of the ache that isn’t ever going to go away. I’m tired of missing my husband.”

  “Aw, honey.” Tully kissed the top of her head and picked her up, holding her on his lap. Gently rocking back and forth on the log, he let her cry out her fears and frustrations while he rubbed her back and murmured assurances.

  When Daniel died in a mining accident, both he and Thane vowed to take care of Maggie no matter what the future held. Thane had been the one Maggie turned to for comfort while Tully had been the tease who made her laugh. Now that Thane was married, though, things were different. Tully now felt the need to do more than work a smile out of their widowed friend.

  Maggie had been like a beloved sister to him since the day they’d met, but he’d marry her that afternoon if she’d have him. He loved her, cared for her, cherished her, even if he wasn’t in love with her. It wasn’t the best reason to wed, but he thought their close friendship was more than many couples ever hoped to share.

  He could give her a good life if she’d let him, but she clung so tightly to her past, it left little room for the future.

  The way she bristled around MacGregor had given Tully hope that she might finally move beyond her grief and open her heart to love again. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the rough and tumble owner of the lumberyard was in love with her.

  Truthfully, the idea of Maggie being in love with anyone didn’t set well with him, so he held her tighter and kissed her temple.

  Maggie drew in a cleansing breath and leaned back, pushing against Tully’s chest. “I’m sorry, Tully. I didn’t mean to, um… I’m sorry about your shirt.” Pink tinged her cheeks as she stood and moved away from him, embarrassed by her outburst. She started to twist up her hair but realized she’d lost her hairpins when she rolled away from Tully.

  He stood and stepped beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Mags. It’ll wash. What do you say we go back to town? I’ll buy you supper at the hotel. I heard the special tonight is chicken and I know it’s your favorite.”

  Maggie worked up a smile and accepted the arm Tully held out to her. “You talked me into it, but you’ll have to give me a moment to change. I’m not going anywhere looking like this.”

  With a nod of agreement, Tully walked her back to the edge of town. She insisted on returning to her shop alone, to prevent anyone from gossiping. Tully cut down a side street toward his place so he could change his shirt.

  Maggie turned the corner to enter the alley near her shop and ran into a solid wall of muscle. Warm hands grasped her upper arms to steady her and she raised her gaze to a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

  “Mistress Dalton.” Ian MacGregor smiled down at her with a questioning look on his face. “Are you hurt, lass?”

  Maggie wasn’t hurt, but the unexpected proximity to Ian left her breathless. Although the arms of a very handsome and charismatic man had just been wrapped around her, it was the brief contact with Ian’s hard muscles that scrambled her thoughts. “No, I’m fine. My apologies.”

  She backed away and started to step past Ian, but he maintained his grip on her arm. “Are you sure you’re well, Mistress Dalton?” Ian brushed a thumb along the soft curve of her cheek, wiping away a stray teardrop. “You’ve been crying, lass.”

  “It’s nothing, Mr. MacGregor.” She intended to give him a harsh glance and tell him to mind his own business, but the tender look in his eye made her hold her tongue.

  “Nothing must be mighty powerful to make you cry.” He tipped up her chin with the end of his index finger. “I’ve not encountered a more determined, braw woman than ye.”

  Maggie smiled as his brogue thickened. “What does ‘braw’ mean?”

  “Brave, lass. You’re always so brave and verra stubborn.”

  “I’m not sure that sounds like a compliment, Mr. MacGregor.” Maggie stepped away from him and he released her arm. He followed her as she continued around the corner and down the alley to her shop.

  The sunlight glimmered through her shiny, dark brown curls. Ian had the most unreasonable desire to take the thick mass in his hands and bury his face in the silken strands. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from giving in to his instincts.

  When he’d returned from delivering a load of lumber just outside of town, he noticed the closed sign in her store window. It was unusual for her to have her store closed during the week and he wondered if something was wrong.

  He left the wagon at the lumberyard, intent on checking to make sure Maggie was well. Although he was still displeased at her for the way she’d treated him the night he’d joined her and the sheriff for dinner, he didn’t want any harm to befall her.

  After knocking on both her front and back doors, he surmised she wasn’t at the store or in her apartment. At least if she was, she didn’t seem interested in answering the door. Concerned something had happened out at the Jordan Ranch, he’d started down the street in the direction of the sheriff’s office to ask Tully when he ran into a teary-eyed Maggie.

  He didn’t know a lot about women, but even he could tell she’d been upset about something. Tear tracks marred her perfect cheeks and reddened her nose.

  Uncertain if he should stay or leave her alone, he watched as she fished a key from the pocket of her riding skirt and unlocked the back door. She pushed it open and stepped inside then turned back to look at him.

  The smile she offered caught Ian by surprise. A grin lifted the corners of his mouth in return.

  “Mr. MacGregor, it is most likely too little, too late, but I do owe you an apology for my behavior the other evening when I invited you to dinner. It was inappropriate and no doubt misleading. I’m sincerely sorry.”

  Ian hadn’t expected her apology and needed a moment to consider her words.

  She took his silence as censure. Tears stung her eyes again. It shouldn’t matter what the lumberyard owner thought of her. Not one whit. But somehow, it did.

  Maggie didn’t want him to dislike her or be disappointed in her. She needed to set things right with him.

  “I truly am sorry. Would you like to join me for lunch Sunday, after church services? I promise to be on my best behavior.” Maggie started to reach out a hand to touch his, then thought better of it. His continued silence made her heart heavy. “Please, Ian. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

  He shook his head and backed away. Suddenly, he stopped and looked at her with a pleased grin. “Och, lass, I’m just teasin’. I’d be happy to join ye for lunch after church Sunday.”

  “Good.” Maggie started to close the door then changed h
er mind, staring into Ian’s blue eyes. “If the weather is nice, perhaps we can go for a picnic.”

  “Aye, that would be nice. I know just the spot, too.” Unable to resist the temptation, he reached out and ran a hand through her hair. It felt every bit as soft and smelled as fragrant as he’d imagined. “I look forward to it, lass. Have a pleasant evening.”

  Maggie couldn’t speak with Ian’s hand in her hair. It created any number of sensations she hadn’t felt for such a long time, she’d almost convinced herself they never existed. She blinked her eyes and glanced up as he strolled down the alley with his hands shoved into his pockets.

  Quietly closing the door, she leaned against it a moment, trying to calm the fluttery sensation in her stomach before racing up the stairs. She changed into one of her favorite dresses and pinned up her hair. After washing her face, she wrinkled her nose at her image in the mirror. She snatched her reticule off her dresser and hurried downstairs as Tully tapped on the back door and stepped inside.

  “Ready for dinner?”

  “Yes, I am. I skipped lunch, so you better be prepared to buy me dessert, too.”

  Tully chuckled and held the door for her. “I’ve never known such a glutinous woman who could keep such a perfect figure.”

  Maggie swatted his arm with her gloved hand. “That is the reason you’ve never wed, my friend. You always bury your compliments in a horrid insult.”

  “It wasn’t an insult, Mags.” Tully grinned as he glanced down at her. “It’s hard not to admire a beautiful female who can eat more than me but never gain an ounce.”

  “Tully Barrett! I’ve never once come close to eating as much as you. A whole herd of swine might not even come close.”

  “Now who’s tossing around compliments and insults? Seems to me you could take some of your own advice, Mrs. Dalton.”