Jesse tucked him close to his body, the baby squirmed; he cradled him in the crook of his arm—a favorite position of his niece Noelle’s when she was younger—the wails grew louder; he propped him up on his shoulder and patted his back. The baby let out a belch surprisingly disproportionate to his size—and the crying began to quiet and, finally, stopped.
“That feels better now, doesn’t it, buddy?”
Of course, the baby didn’t respond. He let out a long, shuddery sigh, rubbed his cheek against Jesse’s shoulder, and his eyes drifted shut.
Jesse couldn’t help but smile.
His sister’s little girl was the epitome of sugar and spice. She was soft and feminine and heartbreakingly beautiful. Sutter’s son, although only four months old, was already snakes and snails. He was solid and sturdy and 100 percent boy.
Jesse hadn’t given much thought to the gender of his own baby. When he’d learned that Maggie was pregnant, his primary concern had been marrying her to ensure his place in their baby’s life. Now, however—
That thought was severed by the sudden realization that the back of his shirt was wet.
Carter hadn’t just released an air bubble—he’d spewed the contents of his stomach all over Jesse.
* * *
“Why is there a sticky note on the fridge that says ‘burp cloths’?” Maggie asked when Jesse came in for dinner later that night.
“I thought we should start making a list of things we’ll need to get before the baby comes,” he said.
She eyed him skeptically. “And the first thing that came to mind wasn’t a car seat or crib or even diapers—it was burp cloths?”
“I spent some time with Sutter and Paige’s little guy today.”
“His proud grandpa has shown me about a hundred pictures,” she said.
“He puked all down my back.”
She laughed. Then pressed a hand to her lips in a belated attempt to hide the fact that she was laughing.
His gaze narrowed.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, not sounding sorry at all. “I’m sure it was disgusting.”
“I know that babies puke and poop and cry,” he acknowledged. “But it’s one thing to read about it in a book and another to experience firsthand.”
“Noelle never puked on you?”
He shook his head. “She’s spit up a little, but nothing more than that.”
Maggie put a plate of chicken parm on the table in front of him.
“How was your day?” he asked her.
“Well, I didn’t have to deal with any puking babies.” She sat down across from him with her own plate. “In fact, I didn’t have to do much of anything.
“Ben took me to Kalispell for an arbitration today. We chatted on the drive, lingered over coffee when we got there, he presented his case to the arbitrator, then we had lunch and returned to Rust Creek Falls around three o’clock, at which point he decided we’d done enough for the day.”
“Most people would be happy to finish their day at three o’clock,” he pointed out to her.
“I know. I just felt kind of...useless,” she admitted. “Ben promised he’d make me earn my salary, but I’m not sure that will happen until I pass the Bar.”
“Maybe you need to remind yourself that you’re not in LA anymore and relax a little bit,” he suggested.
“That’s what Ben said,” she admitted.
“Imagine... I gave the same advice as an attorney without charging two hundred dollars an hour for it.”
“Which is less than half the rate of most lawyers in California. Of course, the cost of office space is a lot higher there, too.”
“Do you miss it?”
She shook her head. “Having time on my hands is a new experience but I think, once I get used to it, I’ll enjoy the slower pace and lessened pressure. And I really like Ben and Mallory and Jessica—I’m not sure I could say that about any of the people I worked with at Alliston & Blake. I’m sure they were all great people, but I was so busy focusing on my clients and cases that I never really got to know any of them very well.”
“I didn’t have the chance to get to know your boss very well, but I’m sure I didn’t like him,” Jesse told her.
“Brian was always fond of saying he was in the business of business, not making friends.”
“That’s probably one of the reasons I prefer to work with animals than people.” He pushed away from the table and carried his empty plate to the sink.
She appreciated that Jesse always insisted on doing the dishes if she did the cooking, but she wished he didn’t shoo her out of the kitchen so that he could do the cleaning up. She just wanted to be with him, to do the things that most married couples did together. And since—for reasons she still didn’t understand—that didn’t include sex at the present, she was so pathetically eager to spend time with him she would settle for sharing chores.
She began to clear away the rest of the table. When she picked up a towel to dry the dishes he’d already washed, Jesse said, “I’ll do that.”
But this time, she didn’t let him ban her from the room. “I don’t mind,” she told him.
Short of wrestling the towel from her, there was nothing he could do, so he shrugged and focused his attention on the washing again. He didn’t say anything while he completed the chore, but she didn’t mind the silence.
She put the last pot back in the cupboard then turned to hang the towel on the oven handle. She hadn’t realized he was right behind her, and when she turned, her breasts brushed against his chest. The shock of the contact might have jolted her backward, except that the counter was at her back and Jesse was at her front, so she had nowhere to go.
She lifted her gaze to his and saw both heat and hunger reflected in his eyes. Her heart pounded harder and faster and her mouth went dry. The atmosphere crackled with heat and tension. She instinctively moistened her lips, and his eyes darkened as they followed the movement of her tongue. His gaze shifted from her mouth to her breasts, zeroing in on nipples that were already peaked, begging for his attention.
Jesse drew in a slow, deep breath. Then he took a deliberate step back, away from her.
“I have to go out...to check on Lancelot.”
She swallowed, torn between frustration and disappointment. “Now?”
“Nate asked me to take a look at him—said he was favoring his right foreleg.”
She nodded, because she could hardly dispute the importance of checking on an injured animal.
But as she watched him grab his coat and walk out the back door, she wondered if she’d have to grow a tail and a mane to make him take a look at her.
* * *
And so it went for the next several days—except that Maggie banned herself from the kitchen after dinner. She didn’t mind playing with fire, but she hated being the only one who felt the burn.
She tried to talk to her cousin, in the hope that Lissa might have some insights into Jesse’s behavior. But although Lissa was puzzled by the distance he was deliberately keeping from his bride, she had no words of wisdom except to say that no man could resist a woman intent on seduction—especially if that woman was his wife.
The problem was that Maggie didn’t know the first thing about seduction. She could count the number of lovers she’d had on one hand, with two fingers left over.
The first had been the editor of the law review. She’d fallen in love with his mind and decided that she liked the rest of him well enough to take their relationship to the next level. But the actual event, when it finally happened, was less than spectacular. Still, they’d stayed together for another four months before the relationship eventually fizzled away.
The second had been a former client at Alliston & Blake. She’d never actually worked with him, but she’d been in the ele
vator when he’d left a meeting with David Connors, one of the senior IP attorneys. He’d asked her to have dinner with him; she’d declined, telling him that it was against company policy for attorneys to fraternize with clients. He’d responded by calling David Connors on his cell phone, right then and there, and firing him. They’d dated for almost a year, and while the physical aspect of their relationship had been pleasant enough, he hadn’t exactly rocked her world.
No one had—until Jesse.
She didn’t know if the sex had been so great because she felt a deep, emotional connection that she’d never experienced with anyone else, or if she felt a deep, emotional connection to him because the sex had been so great.
Or maybe it hadn’t been as great as she remembered... Or maybe it had been great for her but not for him... Or maybe she should stop driving herself crazy speculating about things and figure out what was keeping her husband so busy he was out of the house more than in it.
Because it seemed that every night he had one excuse or another to escape from the house right after dinner. If she’d still been working at Alliston & Blake, she wouldn’t have minded being married to a man who was absent for frequent and extended periods—she probably wouldn’t even have noticed.
A glance at her watch revealed that it was just past eight o’clock. Jesse’s truck was parked out front, so she knew that he hadn’t gone far.
She put on her boots and bundled into her coat, wrapping her scarf around her throat, tugging a hat onto her head and slipping thick mittens over her hands. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to Montana temperatures, but she was learning to cope with them.
It helped if she didn’t check the daily forecast for LA, as she’d done that morning, only to discover that it was sixty-four degrees in SoCal—forty degrees warmer than in Rust Creek Falls. No wonder she hadn’t owned a winter coat until she’d gone shopping in Kalispell with Lissa before the wedding. Unlike the peignoir set her cousin had purchased for her, she actually used the coat.
Her breath puffed out in little clouds, and the snow crunched under her feet as she made her way toward the stables. It wasn’t a long trek from the house, but her cheeks and nose were numb by the time she reached the door. The light inside gave her hope that she would find her husband there.
The scent of hay and horses no longer filled her with panic. Instead, it reminded her of Jesse’s kiss—the comfort of his arms around her, the warmth of his mouth against hers—and renewed her determination to track down her errant husband.
Honey poked her head over the gate when Maggie ventured near. She was tempted to go closer, to rub the animal’s long nose the way Jesse had taught her, but she wasn’t nearly as brave without him beside her. She just kept walking, toward what he’d explained was the birthing stall at the back of the barn and from which the light emanated.
She didn’t know what she expected to find him doing—but whatever possibilities had crossed her mind, finding him rubbing sandpaper over a carved piece of wood was not one of them.
She didn’t know if she made some kind of sound or if he sensed her standing in the open doorway, but his movements suddenly stilled and he looked up at her.
She stepped into the stall, her curious gaze taking in the assortment of pieces spread out over a large worktable—along with the plans for a baby’s cradle.
“Oh.” Her heart, already his, went splat at his feet. “Is this why you didn’t put crib on one of your sticky notes?”
He smiled. “We’ll need one eventually, but I wanted to do this.”
“I thought horses were your thing.”
“They are—but sometimes I like to putter.”
She looked at the pieces of wood, meticulously carved and sanded. “You’re a very talented putterer.”
“Is that even a word?”
“I don’t think so,” she admitted, running her hand over what she guessed—based on the picture—was the top of a side rail. But referring to him as a putterer was safer than saying that he was good with his hands. Because he undoubtedly was, but that kind of comment would bring to mind all kinds of things that he could do with his hands, things he had done with his hands, things she wished he would do with his hands again. Pushing those tantalizingly torturous thoughts aside, she asked, “Where did you learn to do this?”
“My grandfather was a carpenter as well as a rancher. He taught me a lot of tricks to working with wood.”
“The one who made Noelle’s blocks?” she guessed.
He nodded.
“Did he make the blanket chest at the foot of my bed?”
“No. I made that.”
She’d thought it was a family heirloom, and knew that someday it would be. Just as this cradle would be enjoyed by their child, and maybe, eventually, their child’s child.
“There’s something else on your mind,” he guessed. “You didn’t come out here to talk about puttering.”
She managed a smile. “No, because I didn’t know about the puttering until I got out here.”
“Something you want to talk about?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted.
He picked up a soft cloth and began to wipe down the sanded pieces in preparation for staining. “When you decide, you can let me know.”
It would be easier, she decided, to ask the question when he wasn’t looking at her. When he couldn’t see the doubts and insecurities she feared might be reflected in her eyes.
So with his attention focused on his task, she blurted out, “Why didn’t you tell me your ex-fiancée was in town?”
Chapter Twelve
Jesse looked up, sincerely startled by the question. “I didn’t know that she was.”
“I don’t mean today,” Maggie amended. “I meant the day we got married.”
“Oh.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked again.
“Because I didn’t think it was important.”
“The woman you were once planning to marry shows up in town on the day of our wedding and you don’t think it’s important?”
He sighed. “I don’t know how much you know about that engagement—”
“As much as you’ve told me, which is nothing.”
“Because there isn’t much to tell. We were engaged for a few weeks—not even long enough to plan a wedding.”
“That’s longer than we were engaged,” she pointed out.
“What do you want me to say, Maggie?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I guess I’ve been wondering... Are you still in love with her?”
“No.” His response was immediate and unequivocal.
She didn’t look convinced.
“The truth is, I hadn’t seen her in almost seven years,” he told her. “And I never knew if seeing her again might stir up any old feelings. But it didn’t. Any feelings I once had for her are long gone.”
“Well, I guess that’s good,” she said. “Considering that you’re now married to me.”
“And I’m happy to be married to you.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again without saying a word.
“If there’s something you want to say, just say it,” Jesse suggested. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“One of the first things a lawyer learns is to never ask a question that she doesn’t already know the answer to.”
“Was it a legal question you were wondering about?”
“No,” she admitted. “But in this situation, I think the same rule applies.”
He decided to ask a question of his own. “How did you find out about Shaelyn’s visit?”
“I overheard some women talking about it at our reception.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about it then?”
“Because I was hoping
you would tell me about it,” she admitted.
“I didn’t tell you because I forgot about her the minute she walked out the door.”
She had no reason not to believe what he was telling her, but his casual dismissal of his former fiancée made her wonder if, during the four months that he and Maggie had been apart, he’d forgotten about her just as easily.
If she hadn’t been pregnant, she might not have seen him again. She wouldn’t have had any reason to seek him out, and he hadn’t shown any inclination to track her down. They were only together now because of their baby—and while she was exactly where she wanted to be, she wasn’t convinced the same was true for Jesse.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your work,” she said.
“I didn’t mind the interruption,” he told her. “But you kind of ruined the surprise.”
“I’ll be surprised when it’s all put together,” she promised him, heading toward the door.
“Maggie—”
She paused with her fingers wrapped around the handle and turned back.
“I don’t want to be with anyone but you,” he told her.
She managed a smile. “Same goes.”
As she headed back to the house, she told herself that she should be satisfied. He wanted to be with her, and that should be enough.
But it wasn’t—she wanted him to love her as much as she loved him.
* * *
At Alliston & Blake, there was an office manager in charge of ensuring supplies were documented and maintained. At Ben’s office, Jessica usually went into Kalispell once a month to replenish supplies as required. If anything was needed in the interim, it could usually be obtained from the General Store.
Which was why Maggie was at Crawford’s to pick up a package of printer paper on Friday afternoon. Natalie directed her to the stationery section at the back of the store, where she found Nina pacing with Noelle in her arms.
“Someone doesn’t look too happy today,” she said, noting the runny nose and teary eyes of the little girl in her mother’s arms.
“That’s why my sister’s working the register and I’m hiding out back here,” Nina admitted.
THE MAVERICK'S THANKSGIVING BABY Page 14
