"That's okay. We can figure it out together."
"Together." He breathed in deeply. "That sounds so right."
And he kissed her again.
THE END
Epilogue
One month later
Maddox threw his pickup into Park and crossed his wrists over the steering wheel, leaning slightly forward. Even though it was only mid-morning, the intense August heat meant he was blasting the A/C, and it hit him full in the face as he looked up at the imposing brick façade of the administration building at the small college.
He squinted against the morning sunlight; every time he blinked, grit from lack of sleep scraped his eyes. He'd left South Dakota after dark last night, putting in as many hours on the combine as he could before coming home. He hated leaving the custom harvest before the season was completely over, but Dan had trusted him with the teaching and coaching job, even though he didn't deserve it yet, and he couldn't mess this up.
He was wiped, but he made himself push open the truck door and stand. He'd stopped a couple hours ago when he'd found himself nodding off behind the wheel, shored himself up on coffee and a greasy breakfast burrito.
Now he was a little afraid he smelled like stale fast food. And his muscles protested the hours of inactivity. The college was a forty-five minute drive from Redbud Trails, but he was almost home. He just had to get through the enrollment process.
He needed to check in on Livy and Justin. He'd spoken briefly to Haley on the phone late last night.
It was busier than he'd thought it would be the last day of summer break—classes started on Monday. Kids streamed past him as he hesitated on the threshold. Then he stood in the atrium, looking up at the skylight. He could remember his first day at OU in Norman—a campus that made this one look puny. He'd been on top of the world his junior year—with two years still to play and riding a football scholarship. Things were sure different now, coming back after a decade away.
A kid brushed past, his backpack knocking into Maddox's shoulder and breaking him from his brief reverie. That kid looked young. They all did. Wearing clothes he didn't get, with wires hanging out of their ears. Messenger bags.
Man, he felt old.
Another kid manned the desk at the advisement office. He popped his gum as he looked over the Associate's degree Dan had helped him scrape together from his old transcripts, checking off boxes on another sheet of paper before handing Maddox a list of the classes required if he wanted to get his bachelor's degree next May.
Then he found himself punted back to the atrium, kids streaming past him in both directions as he read the list.
Nearly twenty-two hours between two semesters, and that on top of teaching and coaching.
Could he even do this?
Mid-morning, Haley was chopping walnuts in the Michaels's kitchen when the back door opened and Maddox strode inside.
The sunlight streaming in the windows behind him silhouetted the droop of his shoulders. Lines around his mouth showed his exhaustion. He set a packet of papers on the island, even that movement speaking weariness.
"Hey," she greeted him.
His eyes showed his surprise, but the only response she got was a scorching press of his mouth against hers, and then he disappeared up the stairs and presumably to his bedroom.
She stood there dumbly for a minute, staring after him. Since they'd declared their feelings to each other over a month ago, they'd had to content themselves with extended phone conversations and one long weekend visit as he'd worked to finish out the season with the harvest crew.
She'd thought things were going well—as well as they could be. But his behavior just now sent a shiver of uncertainty through her.
She couldn't resist. She tiptoed up the stairs and down the hall and tapped on Maddox's bedroom door. No answer.
She'd never been in his bedroom. She turned the knob—unlocked—and peeked inside. Maddox was facedown on the bed, his face turned to the opposite wall.
Either he was asleep or he didn't want to be disturbed. She slipped away, closing the door quietly, and returned to the kitchen and her walnuts.
She was still reeling from his non-response when Livy rushed into the kitchen, going a hundred miles an hour, as usual.
"Was that uncle M?"
"Yeah." Haley forced a smile for the girl's sake. "Looks like he made it home safely."
But her stomach remained knotted. Or maybe it was the knowledge that she was about to make a change that couldn't be undone.
She used the knife and her hand to transport the chopped walnuts to a small resealable container.
Livy snapped on the lid. "I'm ready to go if you are."
She wasn't. Not really.
Justin meandered in from the living room, mashing his hat on his head. "Heading out?" He did a double take, and Haley realized she must not be hiding her emotions as well as she'd thought. "You okay?"
She shored up her smile. "I'll be all right."
Livy's hand slipped into hers. The girl had such a tender heart, just like her mama.
Eventually, they'd head to Weatherford, but for now she and Livy stopped at Aunt Matilda's house.
She stood rooted in the grass, staring for long moments at the realtor's sign that now had a bold Sold attached to the top.
Finally she shook herself from the funk and followed Livy inside.
Livy, seeming older than her years, wandered through each empty room with her arms outstretched.
Haley followed slower, her fingers dragging on the windowsill in what had once been her bedroom. Touching the wall in Matilda's bedroom. Spinning a slow circle in the kitchen.
Her grief still surprised her at unexpected times, prompting tears at work one morning and forcing her to excuse herself from a girls' night when her friends had chosen Matilda's favorite romantic comedy.
And today was more painful than she'd imagined. Selling the house was giving up the last link to her aunt.
It was like saying goodbye all over again.
Livy had gone out to the car as Haley hesitated on the front porch.
From her pocket, her cell phone rang. She glanced at it. Her boss.
"Hi, Mr. Peters."
"You took a personal day?" her boss said in lieu of a greeting. He didn't sound happy.
She took a breath, still off-balance from her tour of Matilda's home. "Yes, I put it on the calendar over three weeks ago. I'm closing on my Aunt's... on my late Aunt's house today."
There was a pause, and then his voice came back in a lower register. "We have to present to Gallager on Monday."
"I turned in the graphics files yesterday—"
"Not with the revisions they requested. I emailed those to you last week."
"I didn't see any revisions." She couldn't have missed something this important, could she?
Unfortunately, she wasn't sure. Her heart was in Redbud Trails, and she often found herself counting the hours until the weekends, when she could come up and spend time with Maddox—or more often lately, with Livy.
"I have the email right here in my Sent Mail," her boss said, and he sounded positively steamed now.
"I'm sorry, but I don't remember seeing it." She glanced at her watch. "I have the closing in about an hour. I'm not sure how long it will take. I'll work from here this afternoon and see if I can get to the revisions you want."
It was the best she could do. Her boss was silent for a long time, and she squeezed her eyes shut, scrunching up all her facial muscles. He wasn't happy.
And she was right. "Six months ago, I would've said you were my brightest up-and-coming employee. And now... You've got to get your head on straight, Carston. If you want to keep working here, stop wasting my time."
He hung up, and she found herself blinking back tears for a whole other reason. She pinched the bridge of her nose, not wanting to alarm Livy. The kid already had enough burdens, dealing with one uncle who was still battling out of depression and an older-than-her-years concern over Maddox
's financial situation.
After the closing, she'd planned to take Livy shopping for school clothes, but either they would have to take an abbreviated trip or delay until another time.
After a few hours of sleep, Maddox forced himself to get up. There were things to do. He was expected to report to the junior high office first thing Monday morning, which meant he only had the weekend to catch up on all the household things he'd fallen behind on by being gone most of the summer.
And had he dreamed it, or had Haley been standing in his kitchen this morning? He'd been so wiped he'd only had one thought—get to his bed. But now a fuzzy memory of her dear face intruded.
The house was quiet. A headache pounded relentlessly behind his eyes as he made a thick ham and cheese sandwich and ate it standing at the island counter.
Someone had left a pile of unopened mail on the nook table. He tried to ignore it, but the more he tried, the bigger the pile seemed to grow in his peripheral vision.
Finally, he gave in with a sigh. Opened the first one. Bill. Late notice. Bill. Oh, junk mail, that was a nice break.
He found himself rubbing aching muscles in his neck. He didn't have to look at his checkbook to know this month was going to be tight. He had his last harvest paycheck in his pocket, right next to the simple silver ring he'd bought three weeks ago, when he'd still been riding high on exchanging I love yous with Haley.
Haley.
He missed her viscerally. Wanted her here permanently—hence the ring—but what could he offer her? An empty house, while he was working and going to school? She'd basically be his nanny and take care of Livy.
Why in the heck would she accept a proposal like that?
It was better to wait.
Because he knew that things were going to get a lot tougher before they got better.
"Maybe if we wedge this larger spatula inside," Livy said.
Haley nodded. "We could rub down the spatula with something—butter maybe?—that wouldn't affect the taste of the ice creams but would lubricate it when you're ready to put the lid on..."
Livy's eyes lit up, and she turned to the fridge.
It was almost supper time. Haley was back in her usual happy place—the Michaels's kitchen.
She watched the girl shove the rubber spatula into the cardboard tube. She wanted to create a new product with two ice cream flavors, and they were struggling to package the concoction without having the two ice cream flavors overlap.
And it didn't help that Haley was distracted. They'd completely taken over one side of the kitchen and the island, while Maddox was set up at the nook table. He had a stack of college textbooks on one chair. What looked like a junior high schoolbook was spread on the table in front of him, along with a stapled stack of papers and a notebook. On the right side of the table was a pile of hastily organized envelopes she recognized as utilities bills.
He paused frequently, stopping to rub the back of his neck. Stressed out.
He'd been attentive but quiet as Livy had modeled three outfits for him after they'd returned from Weatherford. Haley had barricaded herself in Livy's bedroom, using the time to make the changes to the marketing campaign materials that her boss wanted. She'd emailed them to him, though she hadn't heard back yet. Now it was after business hours, and he was likely gone for the weekend. Monday morning might not be pleasant, but if he wasn't working over the weekend, why should she?
There'd been no real chance for Haley and Maddox to talk, because Livy had commandeered her to help with the ice cream before supper.
Now she held the bucket and spatula beneath the lip of the blast freezer as Livy turned the knob. They filled half of the container and then scooted to the counter where Livy had her smaller, personal ice cream maker also filled with a flavor. They added it to the empty side and then held their breaths as Haley gently extracted the spatula.
"We'd better get this in the freezer to keep the flavors from mixing," she told Livy.
Livy's eyes lit up as the spatula came out without much resistance. It was covered in a thin layer of creamy goodness, and Haley raised it to her mouth to lick it.
The legs of Maddox's chair scraped the floor, and her eyes flicked up. He'd pushed his chair back from the table.
And he was staring at her mouth.
She pulled the tip of the spatula out with an audible pop. "You want a taste?"
She held out the spatula to him as she approached, but instead of taking it, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto his lap.
"Mad—"
He cut her off with a searing kiss that had Haley forgetting everything else until Livy giggled.
"Hey!" Justin's voice rang out, breaking the moment as he banged in through the back door. He set two bulging plastic bags on the corner of the island and grabbed Livy, putting one hand over her eyes. "There are impressionable young people here. And Livy's in here, too!"
Livy giggled and shoved his hand off.
Maddox made no move to let her go, resting his chin against her temple, his arm a welcome weight at her waist.
Some of her uncertainty from earlier began to dissipate. He might be stressed out, she might be facing a difficult situation at work, but they were together.
Justin unpacked Styrofoam to-go containers from the bags, the greasy-good smell of fries and burgers wafting through the room. Her mouth watered.
"Why don't you put this aside for a little while?" Haley asked Maddox softly. "At least long enough to eat something."
She was close enough that she felt his sigh. He ran a hand through his hair but began piling up his things.
She squeezed his shoulder and pushed up to stand, moving to join Justin and Livy at the island. She popped open the nearest container and wrinkled her nose. Corned beef on rye. Maddox's.
"How'd the closing go?" Justin asked casually, his attention on unloading the condiments. "No last-minute issues?"
She stole a fry from Maddox's box of food, turning to take it to him, but he was frozen, half out of the chair.
"That was today?" He took the box from her, setting it on the table but ignoring the food. His eyes were locked on her face.
And her emotions from earlier bubbled back to the surface. It was easier to turn back and take her own box of food from Justin, who held it out to her. "Yeah. Livy and I stopped by Matilda's house to—say goodbye." She stumbled over the words, but got them out with only a small gasp.
She wobbled, and Livy was there, putting an arm around her waist.
She wiped at the single tear that wanted to fall. When she looked up, Justin and Maddox were having some kind of silent conversation with their eyes.
And then Maddox was there too, putting his arm around her opposite shoulder so she was sandwiched between uncle and niece.
Tears threatened again but she swallowed them back. "I miss her, but she's not there anymore. In the house."
Maddox squeezed her shoulders.
Hours later, Maddox sat on the couch, the living room dark around him. He'd put away the syllabus, the junior high textbook, and the college textbooks after supper. He was sorely disappointed, frustrated in himself that he'd forgotten about Haley's big day.
She'd been emotional just thinking about it, almost in tears, and there was only so much comfort he could give her with a hug.
And there was a part of him that worried that now that her last tie to Redbud Trails was cut, she wouldn't be up here as much on the weekends.
He was already going to be pressed for time when the semester kicked off next week. Between teaching at the junior high and the football season—practices would start immediately—and then his own schooling... He didn't even know how they were going to see each other.
He'd managed to get two of this semester's classes in two separate all-weekend blitzes, but he would still have to carry a three-hour night class into December, then twelve hours during the spring semester.
He couldn't help but worry that Haley was going to get tired of him. Get tired of him con
stantly working, tire of the long days.
He could hear her voice from Livy's room, where they'd still been talking ice cream even as she helped Livy get ready for bed.
Even the stresses and worries weren't enough to keep him awake after his sleepless night on the road.
He found himself nodding off with his head lolled back against the couch.
Time passed. He told himself to get up.
Dozed on.
Felt her fingertips brush against his forehead and sensed her leaning over him.
She brushed a kiss across his cheek.
"We need to talk."
That was the last thing he remembered.
We need to talk.
Words to inspire fear in any man.
Maddox woke with a crick in his neck and his face in a pool of drool on the living room couch cushion. A beam of sunlight slanted through the blinds and hit him right in the eyes.
He sat up with a grunt, rubbing one hand over his face.
Had he imagined her words? A boulder in the depths of his gut told him otherwise.
The boulder remained through a quick shower and cup of coffee—which only made him nauseated. He did his best to ignore the pain as he headed out to the barn.
He met Justin coming as he was leaving. "The horses are fed and watered. I'm going to the feed store. Ryan's short-handed this week, and I've been picking up some hours there."
That his brother had been up and taken care of the animals was a little shock, but Justin's words jarred Maddox to a stop. "You got a job?"
"It's only a few hours, until he hires someone else. It's not much," Justin muttered, brushing past Maddox and taking the porch steps as fast as his injured hip would allow.
It wasn't much, but for Justin it was a giant leap. As far as Maddox knew, he hadn't done much of anything productive since he'd crashed off that bull over a year ago. Now he had a job. And was helping out around the farm, saving Maddox and Ryan the trouble.
Kissed by a Cowboy 1 & 2: Sweet Cowboy Romance (Redbud Trails) Page 8
