Aiden narrowed his eyes incredulously. “So you turned her family against her, then when she went around there for help because you’d hit her, they didn’t want to know?” His blood boiled.
Rossington gave him a massive grin. “Yup. Clever, eh? I still keep in touch with them now. You never know when that sort’ll come in handy. Might be good for a decent wedding present, if nothing else!”
“Are you for real?” Aiden shouted as he shot to his feet.
Rossington looked up at him in astonishment.
“Aiden, we need you out here.” Ben was suddenly at the door, calling him over with a face like thunder.
When Aiden didn’t respond, his brother marched over to him and practically hauled him out of the room.
“Sylvia and Frank have to leave now. Say goodnight.” Ben was talking through clenched teeth, and Aiden just stared blankly at him, not quite understanding the situation.
He opened his mouth but Ben spoke first. “Now, bro.”
Their guests were standing in the hall, having put on their overcoats.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Sylvia said as they exchanged air kisses. “Calm down,” she whispered into his ear.
“Thank you,” Aiden replied before shaking Frank’s hand.
“I’ve called a cab for Lorraine and Robert,” Josie said as they waved to the elderly couple. “Should be here any minute.”
“Can he walk?” Lorraine slurred slightly from behind them.
They all turned around to see her clinging to the doorframe of the living room.
“I don’t think you can,” Ben told her, swooping over to lift her into his arms. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.” He carried her back into the lounge and laid her on the sofa, smiling.
“The cab’s here,” Josie called from the front door.
Aiden turned to fetch Rossington, but Josie stopped him. “I’ll get him,” she insisted.
“No, I will. Aiden, you take Lorraine.” Ben’s deep voice called to them, and Aiden did as he was told.
“Who are you?” Rossington looked totally bemused as Ben practically dragged him from the dining room. He glanced around the hallway at the family as though they were all total strangers.
“He won’t remember any of this in the morning,” Lorraine told them as Aiden helped her into the cab.
Aiden sighed. At least there was one good thing about tonight, then.
Chapter Seven
Maggie hated working on Sundays. And the thought of having to smile and be nice to people today made her stomach churn.
After a hot shower—which did very little to relieve the aches in her legs and soreness of her feet—she pulled on a pair of jeans and big, comfy sweater. Her eyes were baggy and red where she had cried most of the night instead of sleeping, and her whole face sagged with fatigue. She swiped a bit of mascara across her lashes and a whisper of gloss on her lips then dragged a comb through her hair.
“Don’t tell me you’re against me this morning, too,” she growled angrily at her wayward curls. She grabbed them together in a tight band before twisting them up into a bun. She had hoped for a neat, severe look to match her mood, but her hair had other ideas, as it dropped down and hung in casual strands around her face.
“Great!” She rolled her eyes at her reflection before deciding she couldn’t be bothered to mess with her looks any longer. “You’ll do,” she told herself, then threw on a thick jacket.
It was cold and windy when she started to make her way toward the café. A shudder ran down her back as she heard footsteps behind her, and she chanced a look around. Straining to see in the darkness of the late autumn morning, she was bemused to find the street deserted. She had definitely heard something, but it had stopped now. A little unnerved, she continued walking but didn’t notice any noise after that, and, once she hit the main road, the sounds of traffic and the wind drowned out any footsteps.
The wind always made her feel agitated, so she was in no better mood by the time she arrived at work. She followed her usual routine of putting on the coffee pot and warming the oven, then she pulled up the blinds and opened the café.
The sneering expression of Robert Rossington and the sound of his cruel laughter had haunted her all night. The dumbstruck face of Aiden Fielding staring at her in disbelief kept flashing through her mind. How could she have been so stupid? Why would she think that Aiden would invite her to dinner with him and his family just because they had been out once? Why in hell did it have to happen in front of her ex, of all people? She took out her temper on the bread dough as she kneaded and pummeled it to within an inch of its life.
“Morning, Maggie.”
She stilled when a familiar voice called to her from the counter. After taking a deep breath, she turned to face Aiden, who was standing, anxiously staring through the doorway at her.
“If you think I’m going to wait on you hand and foot, you can damn well think again.” Her teeth were gritted and her voice vicious. “I refuse to serve you, Aiden Fielding. You are not my superior, no matter what you might think, and I’d thank you to leave these premises right now.” Her voice rose while she strode out to the counter and pointed to the door.
His face was pale, and he looked tired and worried. “I need to talk to you,” he said. “It’s really important.”
“Nothing you can say to me is important because you’re not important,” she responded vehemently. “Now get out before I call the sheriff!” Her blood boiled as she yelled at him.
“Maggie, I need to—”
“You need to get out of here!”
“I’m sorry about last night, but—”
“I don’t want to hear it. Just go!”
“But—”
“Now!” She leaned over the counter toward him, and they were almost nose-to-nose as she hollered at him. His scent surrounded her, and she could see how much he was pleading with her, but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. He’d made a damn fool of her, and there was no apology in this world that could make up for that.
Aiden huffed, fiddling with the hat in his hand, but he could obviously see his efforts to reason with her were futile. His lips were pursed tightly when he finally stalked back over to the door. Without a backward glance, he was gone.
Hot tears trickled down Maggie’s face and she quickly swiped a hand over her eyes while she headed back for the kitchen. Her breathing was heavy as she tried to steel herself, but as soon as the scent of baking bread replaced Aiden’s favorite aftershave, she crumpled and sobbed heavily into her handkerchief. Her stomach ached as much as her heart, and she felt as though she were about to faint.
She sat on the little stool, weeping uncontrollably for several minutes before she finally conceded that she really was not fit for work today.
“Two coffees when you’re ready.” Damn. A couple of guys had just walked in and plunked themselves at the counter, one of them in the seat which Aiden usually took.
Quickly splashing cold water onto her face, she turned and went out to serve them.
“You okay?”
Both guys looked taken aback by her appearance as she dried her face in her handkerchief while pouring coffees with the other.
“Yeah. Just a bad cold, I think,” she said to them, forcing herself to smile.
“You should be home in bed,” the second guy piped up.
Her head shot up angrily, expecting to see a salacious grin on the older man’s face, but she was surprised to be met with a sympathetic frown. She nodded, grateful for his kindness. “I’m thinking of ringing my boss and taking the rest of the day off,” she shared.
“You should,” he replied.
“Thanks.” The younger guy smiled as she handed them their drinks.
She quickly dived into the ladies’ bathroom to check on her face, which, as she had feared, was red, puffy and devoid of what precious little makeup she had used this morning.
“Oh, God!” She splashed more cold water into her eyes but it was
n’t doing much good, she had to admit.
When she went back into the café, she was surprised to see that quite a few more customers had arrived and were all sitting around chatting. Quickly she went over to serve them, only too aware that she hardly looked presentable enough to be doing her job, though no one seemed to notice her.
After that, there seemed little point in calling the boss to ring in sick. She had already worked half her shift before she even had time to sit down, let alone make the call.
* * * *
Aiden seethed as he gunned the engine and sped back to the ranch. He knew Maggie would be sore with him today, but he hadn’t expected to not be able to speak to her at all. That woman sure had a fiery temper on her, though he couldn’t really blame her. How could he have been so stupid?
“I should have gone after her last night,” he said to his sister when he joined her for coffee a short while later. “Now she won’t even talk to me. Hell, I don’t even know how she got home from here.”
Josie sighed. “And you really think she’d have wanted to talk last night? Aiden, she’s a woman, not a child. She’s perfectly capable of getting a cab home if she wanted to. Besides, you were needed here, in case you’d forgotten?”
“Yeah, and what a waste of time that turned out to be,” he groaned.
“We heard you yelling at the guest of honor,” she told him with a grimace. “Let’s hope he was too drunk to recall that.”
“You wouldn’t believe what a lying little shit the guy is!” Aiden felt his blood boil as he remembered their conversation in the dining room.
“Who? Rossington?” Ben arrived just then, throwing his hat and gloves onto the chair next to his brother before plunking himself at the table opposite him. “Any coffee left in that pot, sis?”
Josie nodded, standing up to pour him a cup. “Yeah.”
“Doesn’t even own the dang spread.” Ben chuckled incredulously. “Good thing I asked Frank and Sylvia along. We wouldn’t have thought of bringing up the subject without them. I just assumed—”
“We all did. Why wouldn’t we? I mean, some guy says he’s selling a piece of land. You don’t generally ask him if he actually owns it, do you?” Aiden shook his head. “The whole night was a damn waste of time, if you ask me!”
“Not necessarily,” Josie piped up. “After all, you’re in a much stronger position now than you were this time yesterday. You now know that Rossington doesn’t own the land. I’ll bet he doesn’t want many people knowing that. And you know it belongs to Lorraine, so she’s the one you really need to schmooze.”
Aiden stared up at her as the cogs whirred in his brain.
“She’s right, bro. I’d say last night was a good little fact-finding mission, if nothing else.” Ben nodded, taking another sip of his coffee.
“And I know all about that shit with him and Maggie,” Aiden added thoughtfully.
“Is that what all the hollering was about?” Ben asked.
“Yeah. He stole from her. Came right out and admitted it.”
“Is that a fact?” Ben looked up in surprise.
“Knock, knock,” a man’s voice called from the hallway.
“Come on in, Frank,” Josie shouted, standing up to fetch another coffee cup.
“Well now, it looks like I arrived at just the right time,” the older man said, spying them all sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee.
“You sure did. Any news?” Josie placed a cup of the strong, black liquid in front of him as he took his seat next to Ben.
Aiden looked up, frowning.
“She’s not looking too good, I’m afraid,” Frank replied, taking a sip of his drink. “Said she was planning to go home, but, by the time we left, the place was getting mighty busy. I guess she’ll have to stay there now.”
“Maggie?” Aiden narrowed his eyes, having noticed the conspiratorial looks Josie was giving the old man.
“Yeah. I felt really bad about letting her go like that last night, so I asked Frank to check in on her today. You did say she was at the café opposite the Melrose in Bracken Ridge?” Josie looked a little sheepish.
Aiden nodded.
“It was on my way. Had to give my neighbor a lift into town anyhow,” Frank assured them.
Aiden sighed. “She was real upset when I left her,” he admitted ruefully.
Frank nodded. “She seems like a strong woman. I’ll bet she’ll bounce right back up again before you know it.”
Aiden wasn’t so sure. Maggie Welch might look like she was tough and wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, but he suspected otherwise. That woman had been treated real badly in the past, by all accounts, and she must be fed up of picking herself back off the floor by now.
“Rossington was her ex,” he told them. “He admitted to me last night that he stole every penny she had and turned her whole family against her.”
Josie stared at him, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, no.” She put her hand to her mouth. “No wonder she was mortified last night when he saw her in the hall.”
Aiden nodded. “Great timing, eh?”
Frank frowned. “He admitted it?”
“Yes, sir. When we were sipping brandy last night. Of course, he didn’t know I knew Maggie, not that he was sober enough to care about that, anyhow.”
“Sounds like he’s planning to do the same to the lovely Lorraine,” Ben mused.
“Yeah, that girl sure seemed clueless about him,” Josie agreed. “Seems to dote on the money-grabbing bastard.”
“She’s not the brightest star in the sky, is she?” Ben added thoughtfully. “Though there’s something about her…”
“What exactly did he say, son?” Frank asked Aiden, who was only too eager to relay the whole, sad story.
“Think there’s anything you can do, Frank?” Josie asked, wide-eyed when they had finished talking.
He turned to her with a nod. “It’s possible. It was only a couple of years ago, so everything should be pretty accessible, and I’m pretty sure the guy in the sheriff’s office over at Almondine is the same guy who’s been there for years. I can get some questions asked—surreptitiously, of course—and get a couple of my pals in the attorney’s office to do a little digging. If Maggie spoke to the sheriff about it, it should have been documented. I’ll be interested to see how deeply they managed to bury this one—if at all.”
“You think there’s actually going to be a record of the burglary?” Aiden frowned.
“There might be something pertaining to a burglary at the premises, just to make it look authentic.” The old man nodded. “A load of baloney, of course, but something we can use all the same.”
Aiden felt a lurch in his stomach as a grain of hope reared its optimistic head. He knew Maggie Welch didn’t want any help from him right now, but she was going to get it anyway.
Chapter Eight
Maggie couldn’t remember a day when she had felt so relieved to finish work and begin the walk home in the cold evening air. She had forced herself to keep working today, despite her early morning ‘wobble’. Although she had kept half an eye on the door all day in case Aiden came back, she hadn’t seen anything of him, although she had received yet another message on her cell telling her how sorry he was. Yeah, right. He’d left plenty of those texts last night and had tried ringing her umpteen times, but she had switched her phone to silent mode and thrown it in a drawer as soon as she’d gotten home.
The fact was that he saw her as a subservient. He hadn’t invited her to dinner. He’d invited her to serve him dinner—him and all his toffee-nosed friends, including Robert fucking Rossington. What in hell was a guy like Aiden Fielding doing rubbing shoulders with the likes of her ex, anyway?
She was still seething when she rounded the corner into her little back street. Her fury had made her walk much faster than she would have normally, and she was pleased to notice it was still light enough to see when she got home. Pulling out her key, she jumped when she heard footsteps behind her.
She’d know his voice anywhere. It had plagued her nightmares for the past couple of years. The fact that it was accompanied by a strong stench of stale whiskey filled her with even more dread.
Her fingers trembled as she fumbled to turn the lock, silently praying for one of the neighbors to come to her rescue, but they were alone.
“W-What do you want?” she demanded as he pushed her through her own front door, causing her to sprawl across the thin hall carpet.
The door slammed behind them.
“So, this is what the place is like on the inside,” he sneered, switching on a light and taking a good look around. “I often wondered.”
Maggie clung to the wall where she pulled herself up, watching him lock the door behind himself then tuck the key into his pocket. Bastard. Her blood ran cold. “Y-you’ve been watching me?” It all made sense now, the footsteps, the feeling of being followed… It hadn’t been her imagination after all.
“I wanted to find out what you were up to these days,” he told her nonchalantly as he finally pulled his hand back out of his pocket.
“Up to?” She spat the words at him as he crossed the hall and took a peek into her tiny kitchen. “I haven’t been up to anything. I work for a living—good, honest work, something you know nothing about.”
He reached her with one stride, and pure evil stared back at her as she watched him raise his hand to strike her.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Anger and indignation pooled with fear as she screamed at him.
“Or what?” He narrowed his eyes when he grabbed hold of her upper arms, pinning her roughly back against the wall. “You planning on stopping me, bitch?”
“You— You’re hurting me,” she wailed as he squeezed her soft flesh.
“So? It’s nothing to what I’ll do if I hear you’ve been making trouble for me. D’ya hear?” His voice was a feral growl and his teeth were gritted.
Pain seared through her arms. She struggled to free herself from his grip, but it was no use.
Maggie’s Man (The Cowboys of Cavern County Book 2) Page 6
