A Wedding for Maggie

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  “J.D.—”

  “Loves you, too.” Shivers racked through her body. Cold air easily penetrated the long folds of her robe.

  “I can’t—”

  She threw her arms around him, pressing against him. Needing the touch of him to help her muddle her way through this. “You can do whatever you want, Daniel. From inside.”

  “I can’t feel. I...won’t.”

  She pressed her forehead against his coat, thinking furiously. “Okay. You don’t have to. But, Daniel, I’m really cold.” She didn’t have to fake the shivers in her voice or her arms. “If you...if you want me to warm up, you’ll need to take me inside. Okay?”

  He swore, low and soft. But he swept her into his arms and strode across the clearing toward the house. Maggie wrapped her arms around his neck and forced herself to think.

  The pillaged bedding. The notes that had been there. Then had not.

  She pressed her cold cheek into his coat.

  His wounded eyes when he’d told Maggie that Angeline was dead. Daniel staring at J.D. as if she’d taken a layer of his soul when she called him Daddy.

  When Daniel finally reached the house and set her on her feet inside the mudroom, she was ready. Deliberately she stepped in front of the door when he would have gone right back out into the cold night. “Do you want to freeze to death out there?”

  His face was pale, his eyes full of a torment he wouldn’t share. “Move out of my way.”

  She slowly shook her head. “Why can’t you feel, Daniel?”

  He shook his head sharply. “Because when I do, bad things happen. Move.”

  “Why? So you can go sit on a bar stool in Colbys? I’d think even that place is closed for the night. What bad things?”

  Daniel pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Forget it.”

  She moved and yanked his hands down. Linked her fingers through his with a surprising strength. “No. What bad things?”

  “You like doing this?” he asked nastily. “Picking until I’m raw?”

  “If you can’t feel, you can’t be raw,” she returned swiftly. “What bad things?”

  “I don’t want your love,” he growled.

  Later she’d let that hurt. But not now. “You have it whether you like it or not! What bad things?”

  “Joe.”

  Maggie grimaced. “We’ve been through that. Try again.”

  His jaw cocked. “You.”

  Her gaze flickered for a moment. “I’m here. Living in a corner of the world I love. Carrying another child that I’d never dreamed I’d have. Loving you. There’s nothing bad there.”

  Pushed beyond reason, Daniel turned and slammed his fist against the wall. He heard Maggie gasp behind him. Maybe if she knew the truth, she’d stop picking and picking at him. Exposing every layer of his sins to the singeing light of the sun.

  “All right, then,” he growled. “Bad. How about twenty-two people dying in a small village because I felt that I could protect them against a madman.” He opened his eyes, staring at the wall. Hoping that his mind wouldn’t conjure their faces. Failing. He curled his hand into a fist, concentrating on the sharp ache in his knuckles. “Angeline’s parents. Her cousins and aunts and uncles All dead, because I didn’t follow my brain and get them the hell outta there when I should have. They trusted me, and I failed them. In the worst possible way. Angeline, all of ’em.”

  Maggie stared at his back, so stiff and unrelenting, even beneath the coat she’d worked so hard to get on him. She didn’t believe for one minute that Daniel was as culpable as he believed. And though there were millions of questions and a tidal wave of horror sweeping through her, she focused on the one point she knew would reach Daniel. She unfastened her coat, leaving it on the bench underneath the window. “Tell me about Angeline.”

  His head tilted and she saw the savage angle of his hard jaw, the hard twist of his lips. “She was four years old,” he gritted.

  She already knew that. “You cared about her.”

  “She was a pain in the butt. She followed a person everywhere. Asked a million questions—”

  “You cared about her.”

  He turned his gaze toward her. “I left those people at the mercy of Arturo’s men.”

  “Not intentionally. Not knowingly,” she said with bone-deep certainty. Even though she didn’t have a clue who Arturo was.

  “It doesn’t matter!” He raked his hands through his butterscotch hair. “They trusted me. And...they...died.”

  She yanked several paper towels off the roll and dampened them under the faucet of the utility sink. Then caught his reluctant hand and pressed them to his knuckles, raw from where he’d punched the wall. “You cared about them. Cared about Angeline. And now they’re gone. And you’re dealing with it by telling yourself it’s smarter not to feel anything.”

  She held on tight to his wrist when he would have pulled away. “I’ve lost people in my life, too, Daniel. My mother. My father. Babies before they even had a chance at life.” She swallowed. “It’s not easy to get past the anger and the disbelief and the pain. But it’s impossible, if you won’t even let yourself feel the grief that you need to feel! Daniel, you have to let yourself feel those things to get past them.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Really?” She pressed the towels gently. “Isn’t it? You look at J.D. and sometimes see Angeline. It eats away at you inside because there isn’t one single thing that you can do to change what happened. You want to beat out at the world around you for going on, for surviving, when a part of you is dying inside.”

  She blinked at the tears blurring her vision. “I used to think that if I loved someone, I’d drive them away. But I don’t believe that anymore. Because I don’t believe that you’re going away. I believe in you. In your honesty. Your decency. I believe in you because your touch has made me feel again. Because I look in your eyes and I see a future. It’s not the Double-C. This land that is so much a part of you and your family. It’s the way you live your life. It’s the man you are. It’s you, Daniel. You can say that love clouds your brain, but I think it’s really just the opposite. It makes everything so clear. It opens the world for your soul.”

  She tossed aside the paper towels and looked up into his quicksilver eyes. “And I know that, because of you. Because of what you’ve made me feel for you.”

  His jaw clenched. “She was only...four.” His arms closed around Maggie, holding her so tightly she wept for the pain she felt in him. “Four. And I couldn’t find her. Dammit, we couldn’t find her body to even give her a decent burial! And the only way I can get through two days running is to not think about it!”

  She pressed her lips to his jaw. Held his head in her palms and brushed her thumb across the hard lines of strain in his lean, hard cheek. “Oh, Daniel,” she whispered. “It will get better.”

  He lifted his head, no sign of agreement or belief in his eyes. “I won’t fail you, Maggie. You or J.D.”

  “I know you won’t.” She’d expected him to back out of his marriage demand, but she’d known he’d never fail her. Or their child. It wasn’t Daniel’s way. But how could she get him to see that?

  “I’ll protect you from everything bad in this world.”

  “We’ll protect each other.”

  He finally drew in a long breath and set her gently from him. His shoulders were rigid. “I want J.D. to have my name,” he finally said, and the hard, flat tone of his voice told her more than he’d ever realize.

  Maggie’s tears overflowed. “Oh, my love. Didn’t you know?” He was so impossibly dear to her. He always had been, even when friendship was all that he’d offered. If there was a way for her to help him through his grief, she’d find it. It was the only way he’d open his heart up again to love. “Daniel Jordan Clay,” she whispered. “J.D. Jordanne Danielle.”

  “J.D.” He looked stunned. “Why?”

  She brushed at her cheeks and told him the truth. “Because I wanted her named
for all that was good and kind and decent.”

  The muscle in his jaw jerked. “You should’a named her after yourself. Or Jaimie, then. Not me.”

  He sat down on the bench, his hands braced on either side of him, as if he didn’t have the energy to stand any longer. Perhaps he didn’t. He was carrying such a heavy load on his wide shoulders. Maggie crouched down in front of him, resting her palms on his thighs. “J.D. has the perfect name, Daniel. And not once have I regretted giving it to her. Adding Clay to it will be an honor.”

  He let out a long, shuddering breath, as if he’d been holding it in for months, and pulled her close to his chest. The words, when they finally came, were low and raw. “It hurts, Maggie Mae.”

  “I know. It’ll get better. I promise.” She pressed her lips to the tight cords of his neck. “Come to bed, Daniel. Come to bed and hold me until the sun comes up.”

  “I forget it all when I’m part of you.”

  She drew his palm to the faint swell of her abdomen. “We’re parts of each other now. We always will be.”

  He was quiet for a long moment. But his fingers tangled with hers over the child they’d created that warm August night. “J.D.,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. As if he still couldn’t believe it.

  “Soon we’ll have to start thinking about names for this one,” Maggie whispered.

  He pressed an infinitely tender kiss to her temple and rose, drawing her with him. “Tomorrow is soon enough. For now, I want to go to bed and hold you until the sun comes up.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maggie leaned against the wide archway between the kitchen and the formal dining room, waiting for Jaimie, who’d had to make a pit stop at the bathroom, and tried to picture the table Daniel wanted to put in the dining room. They simply couldn’t agree on it. He had his eye on one in particular that seated eighteen She’d told him the table was beautiful, true. But much too large for their needs.

  So far neither had relented. The tug-of-war on the issue had turned downright interesting, too. Last night, Daniel had sat her on the floor of the spacious dining room and paced off the dimensions of the table he wanted. She’d pointed out, reasonably enough, the way the oval table she’d been eyeing would fit so much better.

  Somehow or other, they’d ended up making love on the wide burgundy and navy area rug. Daniel’s argument, when she’d given a vaguely scandalized protest, was that they needed to make it really feel like their home. Maggie suspected that if the house felt any more than it already did, she’d be dead from pleasure.

  She smiled faintly, smoothing her hand down her abdomen. Daniel had had only one sleepless night since that first night in their new home. He’d told her, albeit reluctantly, about the agency that had sent him to Santo Marguerite because of his expertise in weaponry and disarming explosives. Hollins-Winword. That he’d gotten involved with the covert agency when Maggie had left the Double-C all those years ago. But he hadn’t been willing to discuss Angeline any more than he already had.

  So she’d taken matters into her own hands. Though she wasn’t sure at all how Daniel would feel if he knew she’d contacted the same investigator who’d been able to track down Joe’s whereabouts. The man was even now searching every available source to either confirm Angeline’s death or disprove it. One way or another, Daniel needed the answer.

  “I should have known you’d be in here admiring your new kitchen. You ready to go to the church?”

  Maggie turned to find Jaimie standing near the staircase, watching her with laughter in her eyes and she nodded, gathering up her purse and coat to follow Jaimie out to the truck. Daniel and Matthew were meeting them at the Community Church. It was only Tuesday and the wedding wasn’t until Friday, but the pastor wanted them to have a short rehearsal before he went away for Thanksgiving.

  Daniel had snorted, saying he didn’t need any rehearsal to walk Maggie down an aisle. But Maggie could tell that he really didn’t mind.

  After the rehearsal, everyone would gather at the big house for supper. Maggie and J.D. would spend the night there until Friday. Until the wedding.

  “It being only proper and all,” Squire had insisted testily. But Maggie knew that Squire approved of the match. He’d made that abundantly clear with his gift of land.

  “Jefferson and Emily and the kids should already be there,” Jaimie said when they set off. “Matthew talked to Tris this afternoon. He won’t make it to the rehearsal, but he’ll be here for the wedding. Hopefully Sawyer will be, too. But he couldn’t say for sure, because of that court-martial he’s testifying in.”

  “Daniel talked to Tris, too.” Maggie said. “He said he’d never heard Tristan sound so overworked, and told him he needed to take off some time.”

  Jaimie nodded. “He probably won’t, though. He’s like his brothers. Obsessed with one thing or another. Matthew’s obsession is the Double-C.”

  “Matthew’s obsession is you,” Maggie corrected drily.

  Jaimie smiled, sleek with satisfaction. “Daniel is just as bad about you.” They rocketed past the big house. “When the Clay men fall in love, they do it in a big way. So he still hasn’t told you where you’re going to honeymoon?”

  “Ah, no. He wouldn’t even let me pack.” Nor had he said he loved her. Maggie was certain he wouldn’t.

  “Maybe he figures you won’t need any clothes,” Jaimie observed slyly, breaking into Maggie’s thoughts, and her cheeks heated. She thought Jaimie’s statement could very well be true, declarations of love or not.

  The Blazer rocked to a sudden halt, and Jaimie started gathering up her purse and assorted other items. Maggie climbed out, too, reaching back for her purse.

  A big, warm hand slid up her back, rubbing her neck beneath her hair. Maggie melted and leaned into him. She tilted her chin up to look at Daniel behind her. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He kissed her forehead and slipped her heavy, oversize purse out of her hands. “Where’s your coat?”

  “In the back seat. Don’t worry. I’m perfectly warm.”

  His lips skipped along her temple to her jaw and she turned in his arms, tugging his hair until his lips met hers. “Maybe too warm,” she added when he finally straightened. “Are you sure you don’t mind our sleeping at the big house until the wedding?”

  “I’ll probably have to spend an hour in a cold shower just to get to sleep without you, but I’ll live. Consider it tradition,” he added drily. “We’ve followed nearly every other one for this shindig.”

  “I’ll miss you,” Maggie said against his lips.

  “Gawdalmighty, Daniel,” Squire’s voice boomed out from the other end of the small parking lot. “Can’t you wait until after the ceremony?”

  Daniel shook his head, sliding his arms more fully around her. “Nope.” His lips swallowed Maggie’s giggle.

  But they were interrupted again by J.D., who pelted across the parking lot from the church to wrap her arms around Daniel’s and Maggie’s legs. “Mama, ’Andra says you gots to stop smooching and come inside to get practiced.”

  Maggie looked up at Daniel. “Smooching?”

  “Think we oughta start limiting the time the girls spend with Squire,” he chuckled. “But I’m all for getting more ‘practiced.’”

  Maggie pushed the truck door closed and pulled the coat around her shoulders, following them when J.D. pulled Daniel’s hand toward the church.

  Her steps slowed as her eyes drifted from their backs to the cross, rising tall and simply from the snowy ground in front of the small church. Daniel had to have some resolution over Angeline. Until he did, she feared he’d never fully open his heart again. She loved him too much to see him suffering that self-imposed sentence.

  “Having second thoughts?”

  Maggie blinked, wondering blankly where Jefferson had appeared from. Then noticed the vehicle that was now parked next to Matthew’s Blazer. “No second thoughts,” she assured.

  He nodded, his eyes holding a smile that his stern face didn’
t. “I’m glad my brother found you, Maggie. You’re good for him.”

  Warmth spread through her. “He’s good for me.”

  He nodded again and started for the church.

  “Jefferson—”

  He waited.

  “Do you think there’s a chance Angeline survived?”

  He sighed faintly, not seeming surprised at her comment. “It’s highly unlikely. Daniel did everything he could to try to find her.”

  “He told me her only family lived in the village. That all the, uh—”

  “Everyone was accounted for except Angeline,” Jefferson finished. “But the destruction of the village was absolute. Even Dainel had to acknowledge the unlikelihood of recovering Angeline’s body.”

  Maggie winced. She didn’t know the details of what Jefferson had done for Hollins-Winword. But she did know that he’d worked for the private agency for years—far longer than Daniel had. “There’s nothing else that can be done?”

  “You should be talking to Dan about this,” Jefferson said quietly.

  “He refuses to talk about her. But I...I wish I could give him something in return for all he’s given me. He needs some resolution to this. Closure. Hope. Something.”

  “You underestimate yourself, Maggie. You’ve already given my brother everything he wants. You. The baby.” He tilted his head toward the church. “That little rug rat who is heading inside right now.”

  Maggie caught his sleeve. “Please, Jefferson. Won’t you help me see if there is any hope?”

  He shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. “You’re as bad as Emily,” he murmured. “All right. I’ll tell you later what I know. If you want to take it further—” He broke off, obviously seeing something in her expression. “Maggie?”

  She swallowed and forced a confident smile before heading into the church, leaving Jefferson to follow. If Jefferson was surprised or shocked or dismayed by what he suspected she’d already initiated, that was too bad. He’d agreed to tell her what he knew. The information could only help the investigator she’d hired several days earlier. Speed his task. She’d already sent him every penny she’d managed to put into savings.