“He was heading down a bad road,” Squire went on, shaking his head slightly. “No good was gonna come of it.”
Maggie stiffened a moment before Daniel spoke behind her. “I think that can wait for another day, Squire,” he said.
Squire harrumphed, but the subject was dropped, to Maggie’s relief. Her meager interest in the toast disappeared with Daniel’s presence, and she rose, clearing the dishes.
Daniel stood in her way, though, when she turned to set everything in the sink. “That’s not your job anymore,” he said irritably.
“I’m just clearing the dishes,” she returned evenly.
“You’re a guest.”
“And that means I can’t wash a few dishes?” She’d cooked breakfast three times, but Daniel had consistently disappeared just like he had that first morning.
“Leave the girl be, Dan,” Squire said. “I swear, boy, you got ants crawling over your nerves. What’s griping at you?”
Maggie, hands filled with syrup-sticky plates, looked up at Daniel. She knew what was griping him, and she was it. His attitude couldn’t have been more clear. He didn’t want her around whether she was doing her job or being a guest. She slipped around him to the sink, accidentally brushing against his arm. Felt him very carefully move out of touching range.
The plates hit the sink with more clatter than she’d intended. She flipped on the water, drawing in a shaky breath. Unfortunately, relief was not in sight, because Daniel sat down and started forking pancakes onto a clean plate for himself.
For lack of anything better to do, Maggie squirted dish soap into the sink and set to work on the bowl, dried with pancake batter. “Where is Jaimie?”
Matthew strode into the room, heading straight for the coffeepot and draining it of its last drops. “She’s not feeling too hot at the moment.”
Maggie dried her hands and started a fresh pot of coffee, one look at Matthew’s rather pale face telling her that he wasn’t feeling too great himself. “Morning sickness?”
He nodded, gulping at the coffee like it was his lifeblood. “She told me to get out before she hit me over the head with her blow-dryer.”
Squelching a chuckle, Maggie opened cupboards until she found a box of saltine crackers. She slipped several free and pushed them into Matthew’s hand. “Take those to her.” He nodded, turning, and she grabbed the coffee mug from him first. “The smell,” she explained. “Jaimie told me she’s particularly sensitive to strong...aromas in the morning.”
“Oh. Right.” Crackers in hand, he bolted out of the kitchen, and she heard him thundering up the stairs.
“Mama, can Sarah and I go outside and play wif Sandy?” J.D. asked, looking up from her empty plate.
“Yes, but you have to stay on the grass around the house. Wipe your hands and faces, first.”
“You’d think that boy had forgotten what it was like to be around a pregnant wife,” Squire muttered. He shook his head. “And I hear that other long-haired son of mine is just as bad.”
Maggie couldn’t keep back her chuckle this time. And was astounded when Daniel met her gaze, his own amused. Simply amused. No under-the-surface anger. No glint of something she couldn’t name. Just...amused.
The very sight of it made her heart lurch.
“How bad were you whenever Mom was pregnant?” he asked Squire.
The man grunted. “Not as damn bad as my sons.”
“They’re just getting started on their families,” Maggie said, smiling. “You had more practice.” Then she had to hold her breath, realizing belatedly that Squire had lost his wife when she gave birth to his youngest son, Tristan.
But Squire didn’t seem to be thinking about that. “What about you, young lady? Seems to me your J.D. could do with a baby brother or sister.”
Maggie flushed. “I’d sort of need a husband first, I think,” she managed equably. “Besides, you know what kind of difficulty I had with J.D. I think she’s all I was meant to have.”
Squire snorted. “Time’ll tell, won’t it.” He scooted back his chair and rose, tall and straight. “I’ll go keep an eye on the young ’uns.” He hooked his gray Stetson off its peg by the door and settled it on his silvered head, then thumped through the mudroom and out the screen door with its familiar squeak.
Maggie turned back to the dishes, her gaze skating over Daniel, who was slowly poking his way through his mountain of pancakes. She felt a sudden sigh, wishing she didn’t remember that he preferred waffles. Or that, if he did have pancakes, he liked them smothered in eggs. Over easy. No doubt, if Jaimie had been able to finish what she’d started without being hit with a bout of morning sickness, she’d have prepared just that.
Wiping her hands again, she put the cast-iron skillet on the stove and took the bowl of eggs from the fridge. Within minutes she set three eggs, perfectly done, alongside his plate.
His quicksilver eyes skipped over her and back to the eggs. “Thanks.”
It was grudging. But he said it. He hadn’t stomped through the kitchen without so much as a sip of coffee like he had those other mornings. “You’re welcome.”
She turned back to the dishes and was nearly finished when he carried his plate and utensils to the sink and handed them to her. Her relief was short-lived, however, when he leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms. “There is a dishwasher, you know.”
She didn’t bother responding.
“So would you want more kids?”
At that she dropped the dishcloth, splashing suds and lukewarm water over her arms. “Excuse me?”
His jaw tightened. “You heard me.”
She fished around for the cloth and set to scrubbing the last coffee mug, as if she was trying to remove the glaze. “It’s not something I’ve thought about.”
“Liar.” He took the mug from her soapy hands and rinsed it, then set it in the dish drainer.
With no more dishes to focus on, Maggie loosened the drain and started wiping down the counters. “Why do you care?”
He shrugged. “I’m only making conversation, Maggie.”
Her lips firmed. “Now that we’re finally leaving tomorrow, you’re making an attempt at civility?”
His eyes glinted. “Well, well. The angel has grown claws.”
And right now they were curled around the wet dishcloth, just dying to heave it in his mocking face. “Who would have thought?”
“So?”
“So...what?”
“Do you want more kids?”
Maggie swallowed. “I always wanted a large family,” she finally said evenly. Truthfully. She wanted for J.D. what she herself hadn’t had as a child. Brothers and sisters. Two parents who loved each other. Who cared for their children and were there for them. But J.D. had only Maggie. It wasn’t the way she’d planned, but then little in her life was. And J.D. didn’t seem to be suffering too much. Because Maggie would do anything for her daughter. Anything. She never wanted J.D. to grow up wondering what it was about her that made her unlovable.
“Even after being so sick with J.D.?”
She stopped wiping. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it,” she said bluntly. “My husband is dead.” Then, because she didn’t want to think about that anymore, she flicked a glance his way. “You’re more likely to have children than I,” she pointed out. And because it was a thought that plagued her, “Maybe you already do,” she added. “You’ve been gone three years, after all.”
His expression tightened and something hard and painful flitted through his eyes. “Do you see me with a kid hanging on my leg?”
Maggie shrugged. “It’s easy enough to be a father without having the child around to raise.” Wasn’t J.D. proof of that? Joe had contributed his genes to their bright, beautiful daughter. But he’d certainly never contributed his time.
Daniel suddenly loomed over her, his expression thunderous. “I can assure you, Maggie Mae, that if I did have a child—which I don’t—that child and the mother would be with me. I don�
�t desert what’s mine,” he said, so softly and fiercely that Maggie felt her knees wobble. And she wondered what was wrong with her, that she could feel her stomach tighten with...anticipation?
She cleared her throat. “Well, bully for—”
“Morning, guys.” Jaimie sailed into the kitchen, her morning sickness apparently a thing of the past. “Oh, Mags, you cleaned up the kitchen. Bless your ever-loving heart.” Her bright green eyes darted from Maggie to Daniel and back again. “Uh, everything okay here?”
Daniel snagged his black hat in a motion nearly identical to Squire’s earlier, thumped it on his head and strode outside, slamming through the screen door.
Later that afternoon Maggie didn’t know if the success of the picnic owed more to Jaimie’s preparedness or the enthusiasm of the Clay family. Probably a good measure of both.
The children were having a blast, splashing and whooping it up in the swimming hole with Nikki Day, one of Gloria’s daughters. Nikki and her twin, Belle, had driven up with Gloria for one last summer fling before they started their final year of college. Both young women were every bit as friendly as their mother. But Maggie found herself watching the way Belle and Daniel whiled away the afternoon, talking in their own corner of the tree-shaded retreat.
When the barbecue had been doused and the food had been eaten—except for a few remaining cupcakes and cookies that still sat on the wide table that Jaimie had enlisted her husband to cart out to the swimming hole in his pickup truck—and the adults were sprawled about on blankets and chairs complaining about the heat and having scarfed too much food, talk grew more hilarious. Stories became more outrageous of the stunts the brothers had pulled while growing up.
Jefferson yanked open the cooler that was in the back of his truck and passed out frosty long-neck beers to his brothers, then dropped onto the checkered blanket next to his wife. “I think the worst thing was when Dan bought his first bike. He was only thirteen. Remember that, Matt?”
Daniel rolled his eyes, leisurely twisting open his bottle.
Matthew chuckled. “I don’t know how he convinced someone to sell him that old motorcycle. But damned if he didn’t get it and ride it home.”
“Oh, I remember that,” Emily put in, propping her elbow on Jefferson’s middle, grinning slyly when he grunted. “That was after I came to live at the Double-C. Didn’t you take a spill, Daniel?”
“The first of many,” Jefferson drawled.
Maggie folded her legs underneath her and tried not to watch Daniel too closely. Nevertheless, she caught the way he returned Jefferson’s brotherly taunt. “I remember the first time you smoked a cigar,” he remembered smoothly, watching Jefferson grimace at the memory.
“How about when you sneaked that girl up to your room.” Matthew directed that at Daniel.
Squire harrumphed. “I remember that.”
Gloria chuckled beside him.
Belle looked up at Daniel beside her. “I think I’d like to hear more about this one.”
Daniel shook his head, his lips twitching. “No. You really don’t.”
Jaimie sat forward, her legs crossed. She dropped the daisy chain she’d been making. “Oh, Daniel. Such a history you have.” She glanced back at her husband. “Details. Give me details.”
“Before the girls get out of the swimming hole and we can’t talk about these things,” Emily added, laughter in her voice.
But before Matthew could launch into the story, Daniel set aside his beer bottle and stood. “Think it’s time to swim,” he announced and ripped off his T-shirt.
Everyone laughed. Everyone but Maggie, who was simply struck dumb when Daniel stepped past her, shucking his jeans to reveal plam black boxers beneath. He knifed into the swimming hole with a flash of bronzed muscles and hair-dusted legs.
Jaimie giggled and leaned back against Matthew. “I think you embarrassed him.”
Matthew snorted. “Daniel? Are you kidding? He has no shame. Trust me. I know my brother. He’s the guy who once had three dates in one night. All different women. Pulled it off, too.”
“Until I found out about it and grounded him for a month,” Squire reminded. “Not that it did any good considerin’ the way he would climb outta his bedroom window and sneak off to town. Your brother always had one of two things in his hand. A girl or a pool cue. Sometimes both.”
J.D. clambered out of the water and scampered over to Maggie, water flying everywhere. “Mama, come swimming. Please.”
Suddenly, Jaimie stood up and tugged off her loose T-shirt to reveal a skimpy purple bikini top. “Sounds good to me,” she said and ran into the water wearing her denim shorts and the bikini top. “Come on in, Mags,” she called.
Emily stood up and unbuttoned her denim dress, dropping it on the grass. Her pregnancy was only slightly more obvious in the brilliant red one-piece she wore, and she joined the crew in the water. From somewhere, a bright blue beach ball appeared, and it bounced around from swimmer to swimmer, with even the little girls joining.
Maggie watched, smiling faintly, as J.D. flopped her arms toward Daniel, and ended up on his shoulders. If his strained grin was any indication, J.D.’s little starfish fingers were clinging a little too hard to his chestnut-wet waves. It wasn’t long before Belle, Gloria, Jefferson and Matthew joined in.
“Better git in there, girl, before they splash out all the water.”
Maggie looked over at Squire where he lazed in a lawn chair. His only concession to the heat was unbuttoning his chambray shirt two buttons, instead of one, and drinking iced tea instead of coffee. “What about you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Child, I fenced off this swimming hole for my wife and boys. Not ’cause I like to dip in it. Git to it now. Go on.”
Feeling more self-conscious out of the water now than in, she pulled off her dress and kicked off her sandals. She walked over to the flattish boulder that projected over the water on one side and sat down on the end of it. Stuck her toes in the water. Maggie knew it was springfed, but still the chill startled her, and she yanked her foot right back out.
“Chicken?”
She looked down to see Daniel’s head beside one side of the boulder. “Maybe.” She turned her eyes away from the gray glide of his eyes, even more silvery now that his hair was water-dark wet and slicked back from his chiseled features. J.D. had moved on and was propped on her “Unca” Matt’s left shoulder, while Sarah perched on the right. Leandra clung to her daddy’s shoulders. All three were shrieking at the tops of their lungs.
Daniel drew her attention when he flicked water over her foot, hovering over the surface of the water. “You won’t drown,” he said. His eyes met hers, and the laughter and chatter and childish squeals seemed to fade into nothing.
“How do you know?” Water lapped at his broad, muscular shoulders.
His jaw cocked slightly to one side. A shadow flitted through his steady gaze. “I won’t let you.”
Leaving Maggie wondering what, exactly, they were talking about. And then it didn’t matter, because she scooted forward and slipped into the water, catching her breath at the cold. She paddled, keeping her head above water.
Daniel’s hand met hers beneath the cold, silky surface, making her breath falter. His fingers slid between hers, and he tugged her toward the center of the swimming hole, out of the shade and into the narrow wedge of sunlight that was all that remained of the hot afternoon sun. J.D. spotted her and flopped from Matthew’s shoulder, dog-paddling her way across the distance “Mama!”
Maggie went under the surface when J.D. launched herself into her arms, and she came up blinking and sputtering. J.D. grinned at her, all smiles and wriggling little girl, and feeling lighter than she had in a long while, Maggie gently flicked water into J.D.’s face. And splashed a little harder into Daniel’s.
His eyes gleamed, and suddenly a massive water fight ensued, everyone splashing everyone, until laughing and sputtering and exhausted, bodies climbed out of the water. Falling onto towels and blan
kets. Bundling into clothes because now that the sun was below the horizon, it was too cool to sit around wet.
Maggie lingered near the water’s edge, listening to the vehicles head out. J.D. and Sarah were spending the night with Leandra. When all was quiet again, when all Maggie could hear was the lap of water against fragrant earth and leaves sighing in the trees, she gathered her long skirt around her legs and sat down on the boulder that still retained the warmth from the day’s sun.
She leaned forward, drawing her finger along the surface of the water, creating ripples in the glassy surface.
Daniel saw her just before he started walking home. Looking like an angel in a drift of pale green, she was drawing her name upon the water. The sight hit him hard and low and hot. Pure want drove through him and he let it.
Let it because it beat back the guilt and the darkness inside him.
He was glad he’d ditched his wet trunks before pulling on his jeans. But then again, perhaps cold, clammy swim trunks were what he needed against the throb in his gut.
Who was he fooling? He wasn’t letting the want do anything. It was ruling him. There wasn’t any place he could banish himself to. There was only Maggie. And him.
Alone.
Her head suddenly lifted, a wild thing scenting danger. Her finger drew back from the water. “I thought you’d gone with Nikki and Belle.” The area seemed utterly silent in contract to the enthusiastic noisiness earlier. Her voice sounded intimate in that silence.
“They’re driving straight on back to school. Squire’ll take Gloria home. Why?”
She lifted her hand, touching her throat with her red-tipped fingers. “No reason. You and Belle just looked...cozy ” She dropped her hand to her lap, folding it into her other ’Everybody has already gone back.”
“I noticed.”
“Oh, right. Of course.”
“You’re nervous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She sighed and unfolded her legs. “I should get back.”
“J.D.?”
“Hmm? Oh, she’s thrilled to be spending the night with Leandra. She and Sarah.”
A Wedding for Maggie Page 5
