Harlequin Special Edition July 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Widow of Conard CountyA Match for the Single DadThe Medic's Homecoming

by Rachel Lee

  “Stamps,” he grumbled, rummaging in Shelby’s pencil drawer in a way that had to be making a terrible mess in there. “Doesn’t anyone use stamps anymore? Does everything have to be sent by computer these days? I want to send a birthday card to an old friend and I don’t want to have to drive all the way to town for a stamp or send one of those electronic cards through a computer. Wouldn’t know how to do that, anyway.”

  “You won’t have to send an e-card, Pop.” She nudged him gently out of the way and opened the top right drawer in Shelby’s desk. “Here’s where she keeps the stamps.”

  He accepted the stamp with a short nod of gratitude. “You’re in early this morning.”

  “Thought I’d get an early start before it gets too hot.”

  “That right? I thought maybe you were clearing part of the day to spend time with your new boyfriend’s family. Nice family, cute kids. You look good with them.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, Pop.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re just ‘friends.’” The quotes were most definitely implied in his teasing remark.

  She sighed.

  Her grandfather patted her cheek. “Maybe I know you a little better than you think, Magpie. I’ve been watching you with that man. You don’t look at him quite the same way you do your other friends.”

  Maggie decided humor was the best way to handle this discomfiting exchange. “Surely you’re not trying to fix me up with Esther Lincoln’s grandson, Pop. Whatever would Mimi say about that?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll tell you a secret about Dixie and Esther. They’re quite happy being mortal enemies. Either one of them would miss the other if she wasn’t around any longer.”

  Laughing softly, she nodded. “I’ve pretty much figured that out. Now I’ve got a few things to do before I go downstairs for breakfast.”

  “Just headed down that way myself. Want me to put in an order for you?”

  “No, thanks. I’m not sure when I’ll get down. You go ahead, though.”

  He winked at her. “We’ll wait on you like one pig waits on another.”

  She’d been hearing him say that from the day she was born, but she laughed obligingly anyway. “I’ll be down later.”

  She threw herself into her work as soon as she was alone again, completing paperwork in the office, then responding to a minor emergency call from the staff at the motel to deal with a broken window blind. Normally such issues were passed on to her dad or Aaron or one of the part-time maintenance workers, but because everyone was busy getting the grounds ready for the evening’s scheduled activities, she decided to check on it herself first. Fortunately, she was able to make the repair on her own, at least temporarily until a new blind could be ordered, something she would take care of that very afternoon. She never did get around to having breakfast and she stayed too busy to think about...well, anything in particular. Not that she was trying not to think, she assured herself at one point. She was simply busy. Very, very busy.

  She was walking from cabin three to the main building with her tablet in her hand early that afternoon when she heard her name called. She glanced up from the onscreen checklist to find Payton waving to her from the tennis court. Dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, her auburn hair caught up in a perky ponytail, she swung a tennis racket from her free hand. Her face gleamed with a sheen of perspiration and her smile was almost blindingly bright.

  Maggie glanced automatically around for other members of the girl’s family—one in particular—but saw only the older Ferguson boy, Trevor, on the other side of the tennis net, bouncing and catching a yellow ball while holding a racket in his other hand. “Hi, Payton. Hello, Trevor,” she called out, walking a few steps in their direction.

  “Hi, Maggie.” Payton had to raise her voice to be heard over the sounds of hammering coming from the rented temporary stage being erected on the grass near the courts.

  “Having a good time?” Maggie asked, though the answer was obvious in Payton’s smile.

  The girl nodded eagerly, making her ponytail swing. “Trevor plays on a tennis team at his school. When I told him I’ve taken lessons at the country club, we decided to play singles. He’s really good, but he’s not beating me too bad.”

  “Payton’s good, too,” Trevor insisted quickly. “She almost won the last set.”

  Payton blushed with pleasure and gave him a little shove, the adolescent equivalent of a thank-you.

  “Where are the rest of your families?” Maggie asked casually.

  “My mom and stepdad took Drake out fishing,” Trevor replied. “I didn’t want to go. It’s too hot to fish in the middle of the day. They’re not going to catch anything, but they don’t listen to me.”

  “Dad had to take Meemaw to the pharmacy because she forgot one of her prescriptions needed to be refilled,” Payton said. “Kix went with them. Grammy’s at the cabin watching her daytime TV. Dad said I could play tennis with Trevor if we stay out of the way of the stage construction and don’t go wandering off. We wanted to go swimming but he wouldn’t let us do that,” she added with a frown. “Not without him there to watch, though he knows I can swim just fine.”

  “Me, too,” Trevor piped up. “I’m on a swim team.”

  So Garrett had finally loosened up enough to allow Payton a couple hours of unsupervised time with her new friend. Maggie could only imagine with a smothered smile the list of conditions he’d recited beforehand. She had to agree with him about the swimming, though. No lifeguards were provided at the resort, so she didn’t think Garrett was out of line to ask Payton not to swim without supervision. Not that she intended to tell Payton that, of course.

  “Well, have a good time,” she said. “Don’t get too hot out here in the sun. When you’ve finished your game, stop by the diner for a cold soda on me, if you like. I’ll tell my aunt to take care of you.”

  Both teens grinned at her. “Thank you, Maggie.”

  “You’re welcome, Payton. See you later?”

  “Sure. Bye.” Payton and her friend returned to their positions on the court.

  It was nice to see Payton looking so cheerful for a change. She was in big-time flip-the-ponytail-and-flirt mode, which Garrett would hate, but Maggie thought it was cute. For now. Maybe now that Garrett had loosened his rules to give Payton a little more breathing space, some of the tension between them would ease, as well. For both their sakes, she hoped so.

  Her stomach growled, and she realized she’d had nothing all day but a couple of cups of coffee. She angled toward the diner, figuring it wouldn’t take long to eat since it was past the lunchtime rush. Her aunt greeted her and quickly served her a bowl of chicken-and-rice soup with crackers. While she was eating, her grandmother came in and sat beside her.

  “Hannah and Andrew brought the baby to my house for a while,” Mimi said with a smile. “That little girl is cute as a bug’s ear. Full of pepper, too. Once she starts walking, she’s going to have her parents hopping to keep up with her.”

  Maggie swallowed a spoonful of soup. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “It’s about time for you and Shelby to start thinking about kids of your own,” her grandmother pronounced. “Whatever happened to that nice Kennedy boy you dated for a while? I could tell he was crazy about you.”

  “He married Lisa Porterfield.”

  “Oh.” There was nothing Mimi hated worse than admitting she was wrong about anything—so she rarely did. “Well, I suppose he settled for someone else when you didn’t give him any encouragement.”

  Thinking of how besotted her old friend Brett Kennedy was over Lisa Porterfield, Maggie merely smiled and took another bite of her soup. “This soup is really good, as always, Aunt Sarah.”

  “Thanks, hon. Your grandmother taught me how to make this recipe not long after your uncle C.J. and I were married. I’ve never found a better recipe for chicken-and-rice soup.”

  Mimi nodded in satisfaction, though a slight frown creased her white eyebrows. “I entered this soup in the
county extension homemakers’ club contest back in ’58. It should have won the soup division blue ribbon, but someone beat me with the most bland cream of mushroom soup you ever tasted. Might as well have come out of a red-and-white tin can.”

  Maggie gave a little sigh. It wasn’t hard to guess who matched Mimi’s hissed “someone.”

  “I always believed Esther Lincoln made some sort of deal with the judges,” her grandmother added in a grumble, verifying Maggie’s suspicion. “I find it hard to believe they really liked her soup more than mine. But my cinnamon coffee cake—now, there was no way they couldn’t award me the prize for that. Got the blue ribbon for baked goods that year and tied with you-know-who for best of show. She pouted because she thought her fresh strawberry cake should have won the baked goods division, which would have given her full best-of-show title, but not even her friendship with the judges could accomplish that.”

  Maggie had been hearing this story—and variations on it—all her life, so she merely murmured sympathetically and continued enjoying the second-place-winning soup.

  “What about Jason O’Hara?” Mimi asked suddenly. “He and his wife broke up last year, didn’t they? Nice enough looking guy and he’s doing well with that insurance business. Of course, his sister Janine is a holy terror, with all those public tantrums she throws when things don’t go her way, but maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with her all that much....”

  Maggie shared a wry look with her aunt, but let her grandmother’s blatant matchmaking roll off her without remark. It had been going on since Shelby’s wedding, and it would likely continue for some time yet. Not to mention that Mimi couldn’t disapprove more of Maggie’s friendship with Garrett. There was no reason to get defensive, as Hannah or Shelby or especially Lori might have done. Maggie had always been the one to let the little things go for the sake of peace, choosing her rare battles very carefully. Unlike Payton, Maggie had never openly rebelled, quietly following her own path—which, she admitted, had coincided quite a lot with her family’s hopes for her. And by causing few problems, she had been more likely to be granted permission for the things she really wanted.

  Maybe she could give Payton a few hints about choosing battles, she mused while her grandmother droned on beside her about local gossip and past indignities. She didn’t want to butt in unasked, but maybe she would find a way to gently advise the girl, just as a friend. Garrett seemed to have taken her advice to ease up a bit and that appeared to be working out well enough. Friends helped each other without worrying about getting too deeply involved in each other’s lives, right? Just because she wasn’t ready for the everyday commitment of parenthood didn’t mean she couldn’t lend a helping hand occasionally.

  Finishing her lunch, she wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood. “I’ve got a ton of stuff to do before the concert tonight, Mimi. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Don’t know what Hannah was thinking scheduling a concert here tonight,” her grandmother grumbled. “More likely to bring in a bunch of hooligans than paying customers.”

  “They have to pay to get in unless they’re staying with us,” Maggie reminded her indulgently. The entry fee was nominal, but it did discourage some of the troublemakers. “Besides, not many hooligans are interested in the family-friendly concert Hannah put together. A local country band and a couple of folk singers don’t usually draw the hard-rock crowd.”

  She kissed her grandmother’s soft cheek, thanked her aunt again, then headed for the exit, nodding to guests as she passed them. She really did have a lot to do before the concert. Her chores would keep her much too busy to worry about Garrett and Payton’s relationship—or to endlessly replay every moment of her lovemaking with Garrett. She would save that for later, when she was alone in her bed and very likely wishing he were there with her again.

  * * *

  “So your dad is chilling out some, huh?”

  In response to Trevor’s question, Payton glanced over her shoulder some distance away to where her father sat talking with Maggie, who sat on the blanket beside him, her knees drawn up in front of her, arms draped loosely around them. Each seemed more interested in the other than in the twangy country music being played by the band on the temporary stage. Seeing the look on her dad’s face, Payton felt a funny feeling somewhere deep inside her stomach. Had she ever seen him look at anyone else quite like that? She didn’t think so.

  Totally uninterested in the concert, Payton, Kix and the Ferguson brothers were at the playground along with quite a few younger kids. Payton and Trevor sat on top of the monkey bars, feet swinging below them. Kix and Drake pushed each other on the merry-go-round, running along the outside then jumping on for the ride while some of the littler kids sat in the center, squealing at them to go faster. Others played on the swings and rode the plastic animal-shaped teeter-totters. No one seemed interested in challenging Payton and Trevor’s claimed position above them.

  Remembering that Trevor had asked her something, she drew her attention away from her father and said, “What did you say?”

  “Your dad.” Trevor motioned vaguely toward the couple on the blanket. “He’s giving you a little more space. Letting you play tennis with me earlier and now letting us hang out over here on our own without him glaring at me every two minutes.”

  “Maybe he’s starting to trust me a little more,” she said with a shrug.

  “Or maybe he’s getting more interested in flirting with his new girlfriend than watching his kids,” Trevor said with a matter-of-fact shrug. “Been there.”

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “What do you mean?”

  “Me and Drake have hardly seen our dad since he got his new girlfriend. Ashlynn,” he added, holding cupped hands a significant distance in front of his chest. “Blonde. Very blonde. Massive, uh, proportions.”

  Payton’s giggle sounded a little hollow even to her. “Doesn’t she like kids?”

  Shrugging again, Trevor said, “She likes us okay, I guess. It’s just that she and Dad want to spend all their time together without us in their way.”

  She had already noticed that his mother and stepdad weren’t exactly the hands-on type of parents. Trevor and Drake had a great deal of freedom to roam the campgrounds, only checking in occasionally. Was their mother, too, more interested in her new husband than her sons?

  She couldn’t think of any way to ask without being rude, but she couldn’t help wondering.

  “My dad’s not really like that,” she said, shifting her weight on the narrow bar. “He’s, like, totally committed to being Superdad. Ever since our mom died, he’s been with us almost every minute when he’s not working. Kix and I were kind of hoping if he’d find someone nice to date maybe he’d back off a little. And maybe she could be on our side sometimes when his rules get too crazy.”

  She wasn’t comforted by the tone of Trevor’s short laugh. “Yeah, Drake and me thought something like that when Mom married Wayne. He seemed cool and we thought since our dad doesn’t come around much anymore, maybe Wayne could do guy stuff with us. But he just says he doesn’t want to ‘overstep his boundaries,’ which means he pretty much stays out of anything my mom and dad decide about us.”

  Payton looked back at her dad and Maggie again. They didn’t seem too concerned about what she and Kix were doing at the moment. She watched Maggie laugh at something her dad said, then pat his arm. She looked pretty comfortable touching him. And he seemed happy enough to have her touching him.

  “Actually, Ashlynn has gotten pretty bossy lately,” Trevor mused. “The more she gets involved with Dad, the more she thinks she’s someone else who has the right to tell us what to do. And because she wants to keep him happy, anything he says goes, whether it’s stupid or not.”

  Payton swallowed. “Well, Dad probably won’t get together with Maggie, anyway. He’s pretty slow when it comes to that sort of thing.”

  “Well, yeah. And I mean, look at her. She’s pretty hot.”

  Frowning, Pay
ton asked, “Too hot for my dad, you mean?”

  “I, uh, didn’t say that.”

  But she thought that was what he’d meant. So maybe Maggie wasn’t all that interested in her dad. And maybe, Payton thought, looking at the cozy couple again, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  Sure, it had been her idea to get them together. Her thought that maybe it would be nice to have an ally, someone who understood fashion and teens and stuff.... But maybe it would be best to just leave things alone for now.

  Chapter Eight

  Maggie’s bedroom was dim, quiet, the sounds from outside muted into a soothing drone. Garrett’s heartbeat was still rapid beneath his slightly damp, lightly furred chest. Nestled against him, her head rose and fell with his breathing, a restful, gentle rocking she found all too addicting. She could so get used to this.

  She knew he’d have to leave soon. Though she couldn’t see her bedside clock from this position, she figured it had to be a little after midnight. He’d want to be back in his cabin before his girls woke for the day, and he needed some sleep himself. But she was reluctant to let him go. For all she knew, this could be the last time she would have him here.

  It occurred to her that every time she was with him, she wondered if it would be the last. The lingering question made these interludes bittersweet, but considering her reluctance to insert herself too deeply into his family life, and his to risk letting her, uncertainty was an inherent part of their relationship.

  His chest rose again with a deep inhale that he released very slowly. He was probably preparing to leave. For just a moment, her fingers tightened on his shoulder in automatic protest, but she gave in quickly to the inevitable and released her hold.

  “I should be getting back,” he said, echoing her thoughts. She was gratified to hear the reluctance in his voice. He wanted to stay with her at least a little longer. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one enjoying this sweet stolen interlude.

  “I’ll miss you.” The words escaped her almost before she realized she’d said them aloud.