The lobby door opened and a fresh breeze blew through the foyer.
“Miss McCary!” Austin said. “You are up and about early this fine Friday morning.”
Maggie stood there in her “favorite” blue dress and wearing her straw bonnet, looking good enough to eat and completely disrupting Jackson’s concentration. Again. All he could think about was her with Rader. Why had she stepped out with a randy cowboy after that kiss they had shared? And what was she saying, standing so close to Blackwell now?
It was her business how she conducted herself. Not his. He turned back to his work. Five more screws to go. Every nerve ending tingled, knowing she was there. After Blackwell left, Maggie continued to stand there and watch him.
“What do you think of the new coatrack?” Austin stood back, surveying it critically.
A charming smile appeared as she looked directly at Jackson. “I’ve come to see that everything Mr. Miller does is absolutely lovely.”
“Well now.” Austin looked from one to the other. “Is that a fact?”
Jackson wasn’t willing to play games. Not after that kiss. “Will you excuse us?” Jackson asked.
Austin raised his brows, but then he nodded politely to Maggie and walked away.
Jackson set down his screwdriver. He should keep his distance, but all he could think about while she was so close, was pulling her into his arms again for another taste of her. “Is there something you wanted, Maggie?”
“I’ve been thinking about our...fishing expedition the other day.”
“Fishing expedition?” It was obvious she meant the kiss. “What about it?”
“Did it...I mean... It meant something to me. And I’ve been wondering if...maybe...you felt something too.”
He stared at her upturned face. “I don’t play games.”
“Then...you are saying that it was special for you too.” Her gaze searched his. She blew out a breath. “I’ve never been kissed that way. I didn’t know kisses like that existed.”
He had figured that out. “Then what was all that with Rader?”
“Rader?” She looked confused for a moment, and then her expression cleared and she stepped closer. “Oh, Jackson... Mr. Rader brought news of Mary. I wouldn’t have walked with him otherwise.”
He wanted to believe her.
“I thought I annoyed you.” She gulped in a breath. “And I thought this week, when you didn’t even talk to me, that you regretted kissing me.”
How could she think that? He took her wrist, pulling her against him. “You do annoy me. So much I can’t think straight.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t look annoyed right now.”
“I am.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to his. Looking down at her mute appeal for more, the tightness in his chest eased. It was plain there was something special between them. Something too big to ignore. He took her mouth with his. Soft, generous and sweet.
A sigh escaped from her as she leaned into him with her soft body.
When he ended the kiss he looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t regret anything that has happened between us from the moment you tore your dress on this staircase to right now. Especially that kiss.”
The warm glow that came into her eyes answered any lingering doubts he had about her feelings toward him. Guess with what was happening between them he should see about contributing to the Bride Fund. Better late than never. It was a big step for him, but he didn’t want to lose her.
Brett Blackwell strode back into the lobby. “I bring da mo—”
Maggie jumped back as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “Mr. Blackwell! I didn’t expect you to return so quickly.”
She was expecting him? “You have something for Miss McCary?” Jackson asked.
Blackwell frowned, looking from him back to Maggie, almost as if waiting for permission from her.
“It’s all right,” Maggie said.
“I bring you da money for—” He glanced again at Jackson.
“What’s going on, Maggie?”
“He’s here to pay for a bottle of tonic.” She walked over to Brett and accepted the coins. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Ya. It works good.”
“I’m glad. Let me know if you need more.”
Something inside Jackson jolted at her words.
With a parting look at him, Brett strode back out the door.
“More?” Jackson asked her now that they were alone again.
She met his gaze. “I didn’t explain completely the other day. The tonic is...was my father’s business. Mary and I helped him make it. And when he died, we kept on making it to support ourselves.”
“This is what you did in Ohio?”
“Yes. It really does work—for aches and pains and nerves too. Mr. Blackwell probably needs more because he is larger than most men.”
“Is this what Rader brought from the ranch? More tonic from your sister? Is that why you saw him?”
She nodded.
“And you are selling it?”
“To people who can benefit from its healing qualities.” She glanced about. “Jackson. Please. I’d rather not let the entire population of Oak Grove know. I don’t have a permit to sell it.”
He’d been a fool not to realize there was more to her story after the way she had acted when she lost two of the bottles in at the river. “Maggie. People use this stuff instead of seeing a doctor. They believe it will help when all it does is cover up their problem. It doesn’t heal anything.” Then another thought struck him. “Is this how you are making the money to get out of the contract and leave town?”
She went still as stone, confirming his suspicion.
She had just kissed him and he’d considered contributing to the bride fund. For her. And yet she still planned to leave!
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t expect you to understand. Not everyone does.”
He picked up his toolbox. He had to step away from this—from her. He had to think things through. “I understand that you just kissed me and yet you still plan to leave. That’s what I understand.”
He left her standing there in the lobby and walked out the door. If he stayed any longer he’d say something he would regret.
* * *
A heaviness took up residence in Maggie’s chest as she ascended the staircase. Each step became harder to take as Jackson’s parting words convicted her. How could she feel the way she did toward Jackson and still consider leaving town? It was impossible to fall in love with someone in only a few weeks’ time, wasn’t it? It just couldn’t happen.
She entered her room and walked over to the window that looked out over the main road. Jackson stepped up on the boardwalk with that long stride of his and entered his shop. What had happened? Up until he’d learned about her selling the tonic, things had been going very well between them.
If only Mary were here. At least she could confide in her and figure out what was happening. Her sister would put an end to all these crazy thoughts and emotions running through her in her no-nonsense way.
Maggie stopped. She was only fooling herself. She didn’t need Mary to help her or to fix her problem. She knew how her sister would react and that was what caused the jumble of doubts plaguing her. Mary would have a fit if she knew how Maggie really felt about Jackson. She was falling head over heels in love with the man. But was he truly tumbling with her? It was hard to tell what he felt sometimes.
There was no help for it. She had to continue with her sister’s plan. Mary was depending on her. She must, even though her heart might break with the effort. Mary was the only family she had and family had to come first. That’s all there was to it.
Family.
Came.
First.
Chapter Eleven
Monday afternoon, Anna poked her head in the door of Maggie’s room. “Did you forget? Martha invited all of us to her quilting bee. We are waiting downstairs.”
“But I know nothing of quilting,” Maggie said.
“Then it’s high time you learned! Martha will supply the threads and material and the other women are bringing a few things for a light evening meal. It’s all for a good cause.”
“All right. I’ll come.” It might be a chance to sell a few more bottles of tonic. Already half of the supply was gone and customers were starting to ask for seconds. The thought didn’t thrill her as much as it once had. Realizing that Jackson disapproved of her trade had bothered her from the moment he’d spoken of it. Now all she wanted was to hurry and finish the job once and for all so that her conscience could stop bothering her.
At the quilting bee set up in Martha Taylor’s parlor, the afternoon rushed into evening as the four “brides” and the four other women worked on a quilt. She had been introduced to the women before, but now she really got to know them as they talked and laughed together.
The young schoolteacher was happy to teach them a few different stitches and Martha talked about how nice it was to have more helping hands. The other two women from nearby farms chatted about their families. As before when Maggie had talked with them at the welcome celebration, she felt immediately drawn to them.
They all wanted to know which men Maggie, Sadie, Anna and Rebecca were interested in, promising to keep it within the circle. When Maggie refused to admit to anyone, Anna piped up.
“Maggie always has someone calling on her but the only one I’ve seen her talk to more than once is that carpenter, Mr. Miller, who took us out to the Circle P.”
Leave it to Anna to say too much. “Only because I asked him to. I needed to check on Mary.”
“I’m surprised he stopped working long enough to help you,” Martha said. “That man is already married to his work. He’s designed and helped build half the buildings in this town.”
“He was just being a good neighbor,” Maggie said quickly. He doesn’t always work, she wanted to say in protest, knowing that he relaxed just fine when fishing. But she didn’t say anything. She was pretty sure that he would prefer his privacy.
At the end of the evening, Maggie walked back to the hotel with the other three women under a canopy of twinkling stars. As the others started up the staircase to their rooms she heard a noise behind her.
“Maggie.”
Her pulse quickened at the sound of Jackson’s voice. He stood in the doorway to the dining area. “We need to talk.”
A knowing look passed between Rebecca, Anna and Sadie. Drat. After her words at the quilting bee, she would hear of this again. “I’ll be up in a minute,” she said to Rebecca.
She turned back to Jackson and the darkened restaurant. “Here?”
He nodded.
The faint odor of onions from the evening meal lingered in the stillness of the room. Maggie brought a lantern and matches from the sidebar over to a table. She sat down as Jackson lit the wick and resettled the chimney, then moved the lamp to the side. The low glow illuminated his face and cast half of him in shadow. Not a hint of welcome resided in his dark, serious expression. The dark whiskers on his upper lip and chin had thickened since she had seen him two days ago. The urge to reach across the table and stroke his jaw came over her, but remembering the way he had walked away from her, she kept her hands tightly clasped in her lap. “What is it?” she whispered.
“I want you to stop selling your family tonic.”
Her heart thudded to a stop. “Why?”
“I know you believe the tonic helps, and it probably does to a small amount. But people who are ailing need a doctor. They need healing. Not something that just makes them feel better for a while.”
“I...can’t stop. I’m sorry. Truly I am. But I have an agreement with my sister. She is counting on me to get it all sold.” She hated that she couldn’t do as he asked, but it couldn’t be helped. She stood to go, her chest aching with the knowledge that she was upsetting him.
He blew out a breath. “Your loyalty is...commendable. But you see...the way you feel about Mary...I felt the same way about my brother.”
“Your brother?” slowly she sank back into her chair. “The one who was pastor?”
He nodded.
“What happened?”
“Something I haven’t told you is that I was engaged once. Christine ran off with another man. I lost my best friend, Paul, and my fiancée in the same minute. After that I had to get away from Virginia and anything that reminded me of them.
“When Ben wrote and asked me to come here and build his church, I jumped at the chance. He was anxious for the building to be finished and often helped out with the work—nailing or hammering or sanding. The day I rode into Salina for the bell, Ben fell from the tower. He broke some ribs and his collarbone. Doc Graham wrapped him up.
“We thought he was getting better. His pain was less every day and he was coughing less. I thought he was in the clear, and then suddenly pneumonia set in and he was gone.”
She sucked in her breath. “I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t imagine losing Mary. Just the thought of it was unbearable.
“I found out later that someone, meaning well, had given him an elixir so he could rest. Something homemade to stop him from coughing. But Ben needed to cough to get that fluid out of his lungs. Doc Graham said that medicine interfered with his healing. It probably ended up killing him.”
The heaviness in her chest made it hard to breathe. She had nothing she could say. No wonder he hated her selling the tonic. No wonder...
“I understand how it is with your sister, but you have to stop selling that stuff. Now. For the sake of the people here.”
She put her palm to her forehead and stared at the small dancing flame on the lantern’s wick. “I don’t think our tonic would cause something like that.”
“Can you be sure?” Jackson scraped his chair back and stood. “I care about you, Maggie. A great deal. I don’t want to see you leave Oak Grove, but if that’s what you and your sister want, I’ll give you the money to go. But for now, I can’t abide what you are doing.” He strode out the door.
His words echoed long after he’d left her. She sat in the dark a long time thinking over his words. He didn’t want to see her leave! But she couldn’t take his money. A McCary always paid their own way. And whether she stayed or left, it didn’t change the fact that both she and Mary had to get out of the contract. That would take more money.
She had always thought the tonic was a good thing. Da had said so and she believed him. Yet now doubt crept in. What was she going to do? It all seemed so hopeless.
Chapter Twelve
Jackson sat in his back room, the designs for a new house spread out before him on the table. He wasn’t seeing them. A lie of omission sat hot on his lips. Sheriff Baniff had stopped by and mentioned that Doc Graham was up in arms about Maggie’s tonic. Apparently the stuff wasn’t illegal—there was even a slight medicinal quality to it—but people didn’t realize they were buying mostly concentrated alcohol under the guise of medicine. Jackson had held his tongue. It was only a matter of time before Baniff found out Maggie was the culprit—if she didn’t leave town first. Which was probably her plan—to get out before she was found out.
Three days had gone by since he’d last seen her and explained about his brother. The next step had to come from her. He wasn’t about to dishonor Ben’s memory or the people of this town by condoning her vocation.
Yet he missed her. He ached for her.
She had disrupted the careful life he’d built since his brother’s death. She’d pulled him out of himself and made him care about things again�
��about people—about her. He loved her—but that only made what she was doing worse.
The door to his shop opened.
“I’ve come to have a word with you, Miller.”
Angus? What was he doing here? Jackson started to rise when he heard a second softer voice—Maggie’s.
“I don’t think he’s here, Mr. O’Leary. He’s probably fishing.”
“Now, lassie. You know the fish don’t bite this time of day.”
“I shouldn’t have come. I’ll...I’ll tell him later. Maybe. Let’s go.”
Jackson walked through the doorway to the front room. “What will you tell me later?”
Maggie drew in a breath. “You are here,” she said, obviously dismayed.
It must have been Angus’s idea to come. Not hers. She looked pretty in her green dress and her straw bonnet. Then, she would look pretty in just about anything, even overalls.
“All right then.” She put her hands on her hips. “I hope you are happy, Jackson Miller. You’ve ruined everything!”
He looked from her to Angus. “What are you talking about?”
She threw her hands up into the air. “I cannot sell one more bottle of McCary’s Finest. Believe me. I have tried. Three times I have tried. But each time I stopped right in the middle of handing it over. Each time!”
His heart sped up. “That so?” he asked guardedly.
“Of course it’s so! Right there I refused their good money and poured the tonic onto the dirt. I emptied three bottles! I don’t know what I’m going to tell Mary.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Well, because of what you said, of course!”
“You’ve ruined her enterprise,” Angus said, grinning. “Told me so herself over breakfast.”
She glared at Angus, but then turned back to Jackson. “It’s an old, old family recipe, handed down for many generations. Years ago it was the only thing that helped with pain and nerves. Perhaps now there are better things...even cures and such.”
“So you are going to stop selling it?”
“I already have. The people here have been good to me. I would never want the tonic to bring them harm.”
Mail-Order Brides of Oak Grove Page 21
