Dallas realized that he was undergoing some sort of metamorphosis, and he broodingly stared at the portrait while facing the truth, after two years of pain-studded, guilt-ridden grief. It hurt, it hurt terribly, but he could no longer think of Sara without resenting her selfish disregard for their child and for him.
But he didn’t want to live with resentment any more than he wanted to live with grief, and he forced it from his mind. What good would it do to resent Sara now? That chapter of his life was over. It was time he moved on.
Dallas took a sip from his glass of scotch and water, and wondered what had caused this incredible change in him. Maggie? Yes, it had to be Maggie, he decided. Maggie—so beautiful and passionate…and so filled with anger over life’s inequities that she couldn’t see the forest for the trees. He’d been the same—or almost the same. Their reasons for misery were different, but the results were similar.
Or they had been, Dallas amended. He was no longer angry, guilty or remorseful over Sara’s death. It hadn’t been his fault, it had been hers. He realized that he felt alive again, and it was an exhilarating sensation.
He sat there for a few more minutes, then made a decision that was long overdue. Setting his glass on the table next to his chair, he got up, went to the garage and returned with a stepladder and a box of oversize trash bags. When the painting was down and in one of the trash bags, he took the box and went to the second walk-in closet in the master bedroom. It was full of Sara’s things, exactly as it had been the day she died. He started filling bags, and he didn’t stop until the closet was empty.
His final chore was to comb the house and remove every other reminder of Sara. When he was finished, he toted a dozen bulging bags to the garage. He would dispose of them tomorrow.
He would remember the good and forget the bad, he vowed. And he slept better that night than he had in years.
Dallas was more fortunate than Maggie; she slept fretfully that night. Her mind wouldn’t shut down, and her many problems and worries kept going around and around in her brain until she thought she would scream. Just before dawn an idea came to her, and she hopped out of bed, got dressed and left the house.
Maggie caught Cruz just as he was climbing into his pickup to go to work. Out of breath from running between her parents’ house and Cruz’s cabin, she asked, “Cruz, could you spare me a few minutes? I need to talk to you about something.”
Cruz glanced at his watch, then nodded. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I— I need to borrow some money.”
A serious light entered Cruz’s dark eyes. “How much money, Maggie?”
“A thousand dollars.” Quickly she added, “I could probably get by on eight hundred. I would pay you back, Cruz. Not right away but…eventually.” Eventually was such a nebulous word, she realized uneasily, but what other word could she use when getting started in Houston was such an unknown? It could be months before she reached the point of having extra money to start paying off a loan.
Cruz looked away for a moment, then brought his gaze back to his sister. “I could get the money for you, Maggie, and I will if it’s really necessary, but Savannah and I have been saving every dollar for our own ranch and horse-breeding operation. Even with Dallas’s investment, it’s going to take everything we can scrape together to stay afloat until the ranch starts showing a profit.”
Maggie’s stomach sank. “I understand. I shouldn’t have laid this on you, Cruz, and I’m sorry I did.” She smiled at her brother, a weak effort at best. “Thanks for listening, though.” She started to walk away.
“Maggie, what do you need the money for?” Cruz called.
“Nothing important. Please forget I even mentioned it.” She could feel her brother’s eyes on her back and knew that she’d troubled him, which in turn troubled her.
She could only hope that Cruz was too busy to look for the real reason she’d asked for a loan, because she didn’t want their parents hearing about it. Rosita and Ruben were both so firmly set against her leaving at all.
She couldn’t give up, though. She had to find a way to get away from the Double Crown Ranch.
And away from Dallas Fortune.
During breakfast with her mother and Travis— Ruben had eaten much earlier—the urge to get away from the ranch became so strong that even a short drive looked good to Maggie.
When Travis had finished his cereal and run outside to play, Maggie broached the subject. “Mama, I know you’re very busy, but would you mind keeping an eye on Travis for a few hours while I take a drive to Red Rock? I’d have to borrow your car, of course. If you have plans of your own, please don’t hesitate to say so.”
“I have no plans and I wouldn’t mind watching Travis in the least,” Rosita replied with a smile. “Feel free to take the car and enjoy yourself. You’ve hardly gone anywhere since you came home.”
“Thank you, Mama.” Maggie sighed. It was going to feel so good to go off by herself for a few hours, and maybe a change of scene would open her mind to new and feasible solutions for her financial quandary.
“Maggie, where did you and Dallas go yesterday? I wanted to ask about your walk when you got back, but not in front of Cruz and Savannah. And then the day just sort of slipped away.”
Maggie thought a moment. There really was no reason to lie about yesterday’s walk; she’d done nothing wrong, after all, even if she had come close to another mistake with Dallas. “Well, we hadn’t walked very far when Dallas decided to go to his house and pick up a jacket.”
“Oh, you went to his house?” Rosita looked extremely pleased. “Did you go inside?”
Maggie cleared her throat. “Just for a few minutes.”
“Isn’t it grand?” Rosita asked, sounding as proud of Dallas’s beautiful house as if it were her own.
“It’s very nice,” Maggie said quietly. And then she added, probably because it had remained in her mind, “His wife’s portrait is still hanging above the fireplace in the living room.”
Rosita sipped her coffee, frowned a bit and then said, “Yes, I know. For his own peace of mind Dallas should have taken that painting down a long time ago.”
“Why would he do that when he’s still in love with Sara? Mama, he’s never going to get over Sara. You really should accept that and stop trying to throw Dallas and me together.”
“I can’t accept it, Maggie. Dallas is too young a man to give up on life. Losing Sara and his child was a terrible tragedy, and I fully understand why it hit him so hard. But he almost completely withdrew into himself, and that’s wrong for anyone to do. Yes, he had every right to mourn, but there’s a limit, Maggie, and I firmly believe he finally reached it.” Rosita smiled. “I think he realized it himself when he met you again.”
“If he did, why didn’t he take down Sara’s portrait? No, Mama, in this case you’re very wrong. No one is ever going to replace Sara for Dallas. Especially not me,” she added after a brief pause.
“There you go again, thinking you’re not good enough for a Fortune! Maggie, you’re good enough for any man, and I will never understand why you feel that you’re not. Goodness, the Fortunes might be wealthy, but they’re not snobs. And if Dallas felt the way you do, do you think he would invest in Cruz’s future, or even set foot in this house? If Dallas had never had a penny, he’d be the same man that he is today.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree,” Maggie said quietly. She got up and started to clear the table.
“Leave this. I’ll take care of it later,” Rosita said rather sharply, startling Maggie into sitting down again. “Now you listen to me, young woman. I know Dallas much better than you do, and he did not suddenly start coming to this house because of your papa or me. He came because of you. And because of Travis. He likes both of you, Maggie, and it’s just as important for a man to like your son as it is for him to like you.”
“Mama,” Maggie said with a long-suffering sigh. “We’ve already had this conversation.”
“Yes, we have, but appa
rently it did no good the first time around. You’ve got some very silly notions about what makes Dallas tick, Maggie, and you’re so wrong that it breaks my heart.”
Maggie lifted her chin. “That portrait of Sara is not a figment of my imagination, Mama.”
“Of course it’s not, but until you came along Dallas had no reason to stop living in the past. Goodness, child, Dallas doesn’t think you’re not good enough for him. That ridiculous idea is only in your own head and is a figment of your imagination.”
Maggie wanted to say, Dallas thinks I’m good enough to take to bed, Mama, and that’s all he wants from me. Knowing that, do you still believe he’s so wonderful? But she couldn’t, because if she did, Rosita would ask why she felt that way, and Maggie would have some tall explaining to do.
“Mama,” she said wearily, “let’s not talk about it any more this morning. I’m sorry, but I simply cannot see Dallas the way you do.”
“You’re making a mistake, Maggie.”
Maggie got to her feet. “It wouldn’t be my first, Mama.”
“She means well,” Maggie said under her breath while driving toward the town of Red Rock. In all her life Maggie had never doubted her mother’s love, and even though she wished her mother would stay out of it, she understood Rosita’s reason for pushing her about Dallas. Rosita wanted very much to see Maggie happy, and she also wanted to see Dallas happy. In Rosita’s mind, her daughter and Dallas Fortune were perfect for each other, and Rosita Perez had never been shy about speaking her mind.
“But she doesn’t know Dallas as I do, and I can’t explain his true colors,” Maggie mumbled.
She was almost to Red Rock before she was able to shake off the aftermath of that disturbing breakfast-table discussion. But finally she was able to enjoy seeing the passing countryside, and her burden of worries seemed to get a bit lighter.
It was a sunny day, cool but pleasantly bright. Maggie had worn her dark glasses for the drive, and she had on a dress that she liked. It was a straight-line dress from shoulders to hem, nothing fancy, but Maggie loved the deep rose color and the fact that it had a matching jacket. She really didn’t know why she had dressed up for just a simple drive, but she felt good about looking good, and by the time she reached the outskirts of Red Rock, her entire mood had mellowed.
Slowly she cruised the streets of Red Rock, noticing that the town had changed very little during her absence. There were a few new buildings on the main business thoroughfare, and when she drove through some residential areas, she saw several new housing developments. But on the whole Red Rock was the same pleasant little town she remembered it to be. Returning to the business area, Maggie found a parking place and got out to stroll and to look into store windows.
Passing a restaurant, she stopped to read the sign in its window: Waitress Wanted— Come inside and ask for Joe.
Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. There were jobs to be had in Red Rock! Here was one staring her right in the face. If she had any kind of job, wouldn’t she be able to save enough money to eventually make the move to Houston?
But then reality struck. Her mother worked; there was no one to take care of Travis. And if Maggie had to pay for child care, how much would she be able to save from a waitress’s income? She had worked as a waitress during her college years, and without very good tips, waitresses didn’t make much money. Besides, she had no transportation of her own, and she couldn’t separate Rosita from her car by borrowing it five days a week.
Frowning intently, Maggie continued on down the sidewalk. She’d been so thrilled to come home and see her family, and her visit had backfired dreadfully. Now she was trapped on the ranch, and no matter how hard she tried to find a way to get back to her former independence, every solution she came up with had its own set of drawbacks.
It was not fair—not fair at all.
The first thing Maggie saw when she got home was Dallas and Travis playing in the yard with an adorable little cream-colored puppy. Travis was rolling around on the ground, giggling almost hysterically as the puppy leaped on top of him and licked his face.
A discomfiting premonition suddenly felt like a fist in Maggie’s stomach, but she couldn’t let herself quite believe it, and she climbed out of the car, calling a “hello” to her son. Travis was giggling too hard to answer, but Dallas waved, grinned and returned her greeting. Maggie walked up to the trio with a forced smile.
“Looks like you’re having fun,” she said coolly to Dallas. “I hope this is your puppy.”
“He’s mine, Mama,” Travis gasped between giggles. “Dallas gave him to me.”
If looks could kill, the one Maggie laid on Dallas would have withered him into a small pile of ashes. “How dare you?” she whispered furiously.
“Every boy needs a dog,” Dallas said congenially.
“But not every mother does, you…you…” She couldn’t think of a vile enough name to call him. Now she had a dog to contend with, and most rental agencies and homeowners demanded a very high deposit if a would-be renter had a pet. “Take it back,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“Take that puppy away from Travis? You tell him he can’t have Baron. That’s the pup’s name.”
“I don’t give a damn what his name is. You had no right to give my son a puppy without first talking to me about it.”
“Oh, give it a break, Maggie,” Dallas said disgustedly. “If you’re not mad at me for one reason, you’re mad about something else. Look at how happy that puppy is making Travis. Doesn’t that count for anything?” Before Maggie could answer, he changed the tone of his voice. “You look very beautiful in that dress, sweetheart. Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me tonight?”
Sweetheart? Dinner? Maggie suddenly felt like screaming. Despite her ongoing objections, Dallas continued his invasive tactics. Giving Travis that puppy was unforgivable. But of course she couldn’t take the puppy away from her son now. Any fool could see that Travis was already madly in love with the wiggly little pup.
She almost said, “Don’t call me sweetheart,” but what good would it do? Dallas did as he pleased, and apparently—at this particular time—his pleasure was derived from making her crazy. All she could really do was to suffer his attentions until he found someone else to torment.
But dinner? No, she didn’t think so.
“Sorry, but dinner is out,” she said coldly, and spun on her heel to march into the house.
Rosita rushed her. “Wait till you see! Everything’s in the kitchen. Come along.”
Maggie let herself be dragged by the hand to the kitchen. And there, on the kitchen table, were two immense bouquets of roses—one red, one white.
“Yours are the white ones,” Rosita told her excitedly. “Read the card.”
Reluctantly Maggie took the card and read it.
Maggie,
Maybe these roses will express my thanks for so many things, although nothing speaks as well as words from the heart. Please have dinner with me tonight. We have much to discuss.
Dallas
“Well?” Rosita said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You already read it?”
“I couldn’t resist. And look, Maggie, he brought me the red roses and your papa three bottles of excellent red wine. My, he’s a generous young man.”
“He also brought that puppy for Travis,” Maggie said dully.
“Isn’t Baron the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Adorable.”
Rosita sighed. “Doesn’t anything make you happy anymore, Maggie? Goodness, when you first came home you were so different.”
“Call it Post-Dallas Fortune Syndrome.” Maggie plopped down on a chair. “I’m not having dinner with him, Mama, not tonight or any other night.”
Rosita’s forehead creased into a serious frown. “I simply do not understand you, Maggie. The most eligible bachelor in the county is doing his utmost to court you, and you keep saying no.”
“Not always,” Maggie muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Maggie got up. “I’m going to get out of this dress and into some jeans.”
Rosita stared after Maggie with a puzzled expression, then shook her head sadly. As much as she hated admitting it, her daughter seemed to be her own worst enemy. What in heaven’s name was wrong with that girl? She would never find another man to compare with Dallas Fortune. Did she want to sleep alone for the rest of her life? And what about a father for Travis? That boy needed a father, and Maggie needed a husband!
Clucking her tongue in disapproval, Rosita began arranging the roses in two large vases.
Outside, Dallas kept hoping that Maggie would come out again. But when the door finally opened, it was Rosita he saw.
Rosita motioned him over to the porch and spoke quietly, worriedly. “I’m sorry, Dallas, but Maggie went to her room to change clothes and she’s still in there. I have the feeling that she intends to stay in there until you leave.”
Dallas looked off across a field for a few moments, then brought his gaze back to Rosita. “I have to talk to her, Rosita. Would you mind if I went into her bedroom?”
“Mind?” Rosita’s whole demeanor changed, and she grinned wickedly. “I wouldn’t mind a bit. In fact, I’ll stay outside with Travis and give you enough time and privacy to talk some sense into her. If you ask me, that’s exactly what she needs. Oh, her bedroom is the second door on the left if you’re heading for the bathroom.”
“Thanks.” Dallas bounded into the house, located the door to Maggie’s bedroom and walked in without knocking.
Maggie honestly couldn’t believe her eyes, and she became so furious that she forgot she was wearing only her underwear. In her left hand was a pair of jeans; she’d been looking in the closet for a top to put on. But everything fled her mind except Dallas’s gall.
“You get the hell out of my room,” she spat. “What will my mother think?”
A Willing Wife Page 14
