by Gina Wilkins
“Four thousand, eight hundred and twenty-six,” he corrected. “The agent supplied the specs.”
“Even worse. It’s been sitting here empty for a year. There may be roof leaks, plumbing and electrical problems, squirrels’ nests in the attic and chimneys, pests, dry rot, for all you know. There are seven acres of grounds and fencing to keep up, the yard’s a mess, the flower beds have gone to seed and the—”
“I’m aware of all that, Maddie,” Case interrupted gently. “It’s what I want.”
She felt like throwing up her hands in exasperation. How could he sound so certain? So complacent?
He was walking away from everything he’d ever known, starting over with nothing in a strange town. He was fully prepared to marry her, whom he’d known only a matter of days, all told—or at least he had been ready to marry her when he’d arrived in Mitchell’s Fork. She was assuming nothing had changed, since he’d seemed so anxious to show her this house.
The really unsettling part was that it wasn’t at all hard for Maddie to imagine herself living in this house. Truth was, she loved it. All four thousand, eight hundred and twenty-six square feet of it. She almost itched to see it decorated and furnished.
But, she reminded herself, she still had no intention of giving up all her dreams of adventure to marry a man who wanted her only as a convenient wife and brood mare. And, as far as she could tell, that was exactly the way Case felt about her.
She needed so much more.
She crossed her arms defensively in front of her. “If you’re so anxious to be tied down to all that responsibility, then I wish you luck,” she said without emotion. “I think you’ll soon grow tired of it.”
“And I think you’re wrong,” he said evenly. “But if you’re worried that the housework and maintenance chores will be too demanding to allow free time for travel and fun, don’t be. Whenever we—I want time away, I can always hire someone to help out. Other people manage.”
Because he’d managed to imply again that she would be living here with him, despite his promise not to pressure her, Maddie deliberately baited him. “You should bring Jill here,” she suggested airily. “She loves this place.”
Case watched her when he answered, as though trying to decide what she meant. “Yes, so she said. Though she mentioned that the color schemes weren’t to her taste. I assured her they weren’t mine, either.”
“Great. Then the two of you have something in common. You really should ask her out, Case,” Maddie said brittlely. “Jill’s ready to settle down and quit her bank job. With your beautiful house and healthy finances, you shouldn’t have any trouble sweeping her right off her feet.”
Case frowned. “I thought Jill was your friend.”
“She is my friend.”
“Then why do you make her sound like a cheap gold digger?”
Maddie closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her face go hot. Oh, God, he was right. How could she have talked about Jill that way?
Okay, so maybe she had been a little jealous.
She must be losing her mind.
“I think we’ve seen everything here,” she managed to say, her voice strained. “Maybe you’d better take me back to the restaurant now.”
“Will you help me here?”
“Help you? What do you mean?”
He motioned toward the pastel-flowered wallpaper. “As soon as the sale goes through, I’d like to start with the redecorating. I couldn’t even begin to choose carpeting and paper and paints and furnishings alone. I’ll need help. Will you?”
She felt her chest go even tighter at the thought of furnishing this house and then walking away from it—from him. “Case,” she protested, “I’m really not all that good at that sort of thing. You could hire a professional decorator from Tupelo—”
He shook his head. “I don’t want a professional decorator. I want this to be a home, not a glossy showplace.”
“Then what about Jill? She’s very talented with—”
“Jill seems very nice,” Case interrupted flatly, taking a step closer. “I’m sure you and she are very good friends, despite what you’ve said this afternoon. But she’s not the woman I want. I want you.”
“To—er—help you decorate, you mean,” she clarified, running her damp palms down her short denim skirt.
He paused a moment, then nodded. “That, too.”
“Oh, Case—” She swallowed, then deliberately hardened her voice. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to help much. It’s going to take quite a while for you to get all this done. I’ll probably be leaving town long before you’ve finished. I was looking at some travel brochures only yesterday, and—”
His hands fell gently on her shoulders, startling her into silence. “How long are you going to fight this, Maddie? How long are you going to keep pretending we don’t belong together?”
“I’m not—”
He brushed her mouth with his own. “I want you, Maddie,” he murmured. “I’ve wanted you for so damned long.”
Her knees weakened. His arms felt so good around her, so right.
She could almost hear Jill’s question from earlier. Are you sure you don’t want him, Maddie?
She wanted him. She’d wanted him six months ago. She wanted him now.
The depth of her hunger terrified her.
“Case,” she moaned.
“Maddie,” he whispered, his lips moving against hers, his hands sliding slowly down her back to settle at her hips. He drew her closer, cradling her between his slightly spread thighs. She shivered as she felt the unmistakable hardness against her stomach.
She wasn’t the only one who ached.
His hands tightened on her hips, and she felt the fine trembling in them with a sense of wonder. Somehow, she’d never thought she could make this hard, strong man tremble. The fact that she could stunned her.
She raised her gaze slowly to his face. His gray eyes blazed almost silver with heat, and a muscle worked in his jaw. He looked like a man in pain. She placed a cool hand on his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin. “You really do want me, don’t you?” she murmured.
He groaned. “You have no idea. It’s been so long...”
She blinked. “You mean, you haven’t—er—for six months?”
“Longer than that,” he corrected with a weak smile. “Quite a bit longer, actually.”
“Heavens.”
“I guess you—”
“It’s been years,” she said bluntly, then blushed.
He laughed softly, though the laughter was strained. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
“I don’t take sex casually, Case.”
“I know. Neither do I. I haven’t in a very long time, anyway.”
She was still locked against him, still all too vividly aware of his arousal. As well as her own. Their gazes held. Neither of them seemed to breathe.
Maddie realized how desperately important the next moments were to them. It was almost as though her entire future hung in the balance, to be decided with their next words. And she didn’t have a clue what she wanted to say. What she hoped Case would say.
Case drew a deep, ragged breath. He kissed her quickly, roughly, then set her aside, releasing her with visible reluctance. “We’d better get back to the restaurant.”
She kept her chin high, fighting an unexplainable disappointment. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose we’d better.”
Case paused in the spacious entryway before following Maddie out the front door. Glancing over her shoulder to see what was keeping him, she noted that he was just standing there, looking around him with what might have been longing.
She turned away quickly, swallowing a painful lump in her throat.
* * *
HAZEL WAS WAITING at the door of the restaurant when Case walked Maddie from the parking lot.
“Hazel?” Maddie said, studying her employee’s expression with sudden misgiving. “Why are you back so early? I didn’t expect you until almost five.”
/> “Your daddy called me. He wants me and Bob to open the place tonight.”
Something in Hazel’s uncharacteristically gentle voice made Maddie go tense. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Case put a hand on her shoulder, as though aware of her fear.
“It’s your grandpa, honey. They’ve taken him to the hospital. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s really bad.”
Maddie sagged against Case, grateful when his arm went around her. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “I have to go to him.”
“I’ll take you,” Case said.
She didn’t argue.
* * *
THE FAMILY had gathered in the hospital waiting room. Aunt Nettie’s stern face was deeply lined with worry about her brother, the only remaining family member of her generation. Mike and Anita huddled together in one corner, holding hands as they awaited news of their father’s condition. Dan stood behind his wife, one hand resting supportively on her shoulder, his broad face grave. Lisa and her teenagers sat crowded together on a small vinyl bench. Kathy was crying silently, while Jeff leafed through a magazine with mechanical movements that suggested he was hardly seeing the words in front of him.
All turned to greet them when Maddie and Case entered the room. Mike came forward and took his daughter’s hands.
“How is he?” she asked, her voice tremulous.
Mike shook his head. “We don’t know yet, honey. But—it doesn’t look good.”
She moaned, and Mike took her in his arms. “We can only hope for the best,” he murmured.
“I know,” Maddie whispered, blinking back tears she refused to shed yet. She knew her grandfather had been in failing health for some time, but she loved him dearly. She would miss him very much if they lost him now.
During the next hour, family members drew strength from one another. Case remained with them, fetching coffee, talking quietly to Jeff, soothing Kathy with an ease that would have surprised Maddie had she not been too concerned about her grandfather to give it much thought.
Leaving Kathy talking with her grandmother, Case moved to stand beside Maddie. “How are you holding up?” he asked quietly.
“I’m okay,” she assured him wearily. “I just wish we would hear something.”
He slid an arm around her shoulders. “There’s probably nothing they can tell you yet.”
“I know. I just...” Her voice trailed away.
His arm tightened. “I know,” he said roughly. “I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t resist the urge to rest her cheek on his shoulder. He was so warm, so strong. Just for that moment, she assured herself, she needed his strength.
8
WORD OF THE CRISIS soon got around. A steady stream of well-wishers passed through the waiting room. Medical staff who knew the family personally. Two ministers. Friends from their church and community.
Feeling very much the outsider, Case stood on the fringe of the subdued crowd, watching as Maddie hugged nearly everyone who visited, and thanked each one gratefully for being there. He knew she was tired, and wondered how she could be so gracious when she must be half-sick with worry. But then he realized that she needed the support she was drawing from these visitors.
This was her family, he thought with a touch of wonder. Not just the ones related by blood, but the friends and neighbors who shared her history, her past.
Despite all her talk about needing to get away from Mitchell’s Fork, and needing more adventure than she could find within the boundaries of the little town, Maddie belonged here. This was her home.
He wondered wistfully if there would ever be a place for him there.
He stiffened when Jackson Babbit showed up, looking like a dude-ranch lounge singer in a garishly printed Western shirt and skintight jeans with overly glossy boots, his dark hair moussed into a careful back-sweep. Babbit headed straight to Maddie, who went into his arms with an ease that made Case’s teeth clench.
Reminding himself of the circumstances, he made an effort to relax. Maddie was hugging the guy like a friend, he told himself. Not at all the way she’d molded herself against Case only a short while before.
Because his understanding only stretched so far, Case allowed them only a few moments alone before he moved to Maddie’s side. He slid an arm around her waist, subtly but effectively drawing her away from the other man.
“Doing okay?” he asked her again, noting how pale she looked. How tired.
She nodded. “Yes, Case, thank you.”
“Want some more coffee?”
She started to shake her head, then changed her mind. “Yes, I think I do,” she said.
“I’ll get it,” Jackson offered promptly, clearly studying the way Maddie leaned into Case’s side. “Anyone else want any?” he asked, moving around the room with the offer.
Glad the guy was gone, Case stayed close to Maddie after that, even when Babbit returned with a tray of steaming foam cups. Jill had appeared from somewhere, and she helped Babbit pass out the hot beverages.
Another half hour passed before the doctor finally appeared with news.
“Looks like he’s going to pull through,” the paunchy, balding physician announced. “He gave us quite a scare, though. We’ll have to watch him closely for the next few days.”
Maddie turned and buried her face in Case’s chest. Holding her closely, he could feel the shudder of relief pass through her. It was all he could do not to kiss her then. He resisted only because he knew it would embarrass her for him to do so this publicly.
She remained there only a moment before she pulled away, gave him a quick smile of gratitude and turned to hug her father. And then she rushed over to Nettie, who’d begun to cry for the first time now that she knew her brother would survive.
“Good news, isn’t it?” a voice asked from behind Case.
He turned to find Jackson Babbit standing nearby. “Yes,” Case said, a bit stiffly. “It is good news. I hope there isn’t a relapse.”
“Yeah. Doc Adcock sounded pretty confident that everything would be okay, though.”
“Mmm.” Case was still watching Maddie, who was surrounded now by family and friends, looking as though she would be busy for quite some time.
“Maddie’s probably going to be tied up here for a while,” Jackson said as though he’d heard Case’s thoughts. “How about you and me go have us a drink? Relax with a beer or two?”
Surprised at the suggestion, Case lifted an eyebrow. “I thought this was a dry county,” he said noncommittally.
“There’s a private club with a liquor license only a couple of blocks from here. I’m a member.”
Case searched the guy’s bland smile, wondering what the hell he wanted. He figured the easiest way to find out in this case was simply to ask. “Why would you want to have a drink with me?”
Babbit shrugged. “Word is you’re planning to settle down here. We’ll probably be seeing each other around quite a bit. I figured we might as well get to know each other.”
After thinking about it a moment, Case decided to agree. This was the man Maddie had been seeing. Now seemed like a good time to let Babbit know that Maddie was no longer available.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll tell Maddie we’re leaving.”
Babbit looked a bit surprised that Case had taken him up on the offer, but he nodded.
Maddie looked even more surprised than Babbit when Case drew her away from her chattering family for a moment to tell her why he was leaving. “You’re going to have a drink with Jackson?” she repeated as though she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.
“Yeah. Looks as though you’re going to be busy here for a while. I don’t want to get in your way.”
“But...you and Jackson, er—”
“Yes?” He waited patiently for her to complete the sentence.
Maddie sighed. “Never mind. I don’t think this is a great idea, but it’s certainly none of my business who you have a drink with.”
Case smiled. “
Don’t worry. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
She snorted inelegantly. “Sure. And if I believe that, you have some land to sell me, right?”
“A house and seven acres, actually. And it’s not for sale—it’s a gift.”
She flushed. “Case—”
He recognized that you’re-pushing-me-again tone. He held up a hand to reassure her. “That’s all. Go take care of your family, Maddie. I’ll call you later, okay?”
She nodded. “All right.” She half turned away, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Case?”
He’d been watching her. “Yes?”
She seemed to grope for words for a moment before saying, “Thank you. You know, for being here with me this afternoon.”
Case smiled and touched her cheek. “This is where I belong,” he said quietly.
And then he left, before she felt the need to protest his certainty that he and Maddie were already committed to being together—in good times and bad, as far as he was concerned.
* * *
JACKSON WALKED into the dimly lighted club with the ease of a frequent visitor, an impression reinforced by the casual greetings he received from the staff and the few other patrons relaxing there on that Tuesday evening. A large-screen TV played in one corner, tuned to a baseball game on the sports network. Several men watched intently, two of them involved in a noisy but apparently good-natured argument about which team would end up in the championship slot.
The only women in the place seemed to be waiting tables, though Jackson assured Case it wasn’t an all-male club. “There just aren’t many women who come here on weeknights,” he explained as he motioned Case into a booth. “They tend to show up on weekends, when there’s live music and dancing rather than sports.”
“Maddie ever come here to dance?” Case asked, sitting down and glancing at the small dance floor and imagining himself there, swaying to sultry music with Maddie in his arms.
“I’ve brought her a couple of times,” Babbit answered airily, making Case scowl as he was replaced in the mental picture by this moussed-and-bejeweled joker.
