03 The Long Road Home (9 page)

The storm had really cleared the air, but why was she left with this sensation of chaos inside?  Her thoughts kept her so busy; Margaret didn't realize how late it was till she came to the end of her second wall.  Turning around she watched Magnum still at work, the muscles of his back bunched under his shirt.  The width of his shoulders and the strength of his arms produced an odd sensation in her throat.

A little later, he stopped and turned.  Margaret looked away quickly, wishing it hadn't been so obvious she had been staring at him.

Matt said, "Done in record time.  This calls for a celebration."

"A celebration?"

He nodded.  "I have a frozen pizza in the fridge.  Do you like anchovies?"

"Not exactly," Margaret said cautiously. 

"Neither do I," he said cheerfully.  "I got a cheese pizza because it's going to be a while before I get to know all your preferences.  I'll put it in the oven and be right back."

He left the room and Margaret stared after him. 

It's going to be a while before I get to know your preferences.  Matthew Magnum sounded as if they were definitely going to get to know each other better.  Margaret looked around the room.  It would never do to let him see the way he got to her.  The walls looked very pretty.  She looked at the naked bulb, hanging from the ceiling, and frowned.  It needed a shade of some sort to soften its glare.

"We make a good team," Matthew Magnum said, bending to spread a small disposable tablecloth on top of the newspaper and set paper cups and plates on it.

A team, as in two people on the same side?  Margaret swallowed.

Matthew Magnum returned with sodas and a salad.

"I really should be getting home," Margaret said.  A voice over the radio station had just announced it was close to midnight.

"This won't take too long," she heard him say calmly, "And then I'll walk you home."

The smell of pizza wafted through the apartment reminding Margaret she had eaten very little at dinner.  He left the room to return with the pizza and set it on a wooden block in the middle of his tablecloth.  "Tuck in," he said, serving her an enormous piece before helping himself to one.

When Magnum insisted on walking her home after the meal, Margaret didn't protest too much.  Being taken care of was unusual, but it felt very, very nice.

"Margaret."  He turned to face her.  The hand he placed on the gate into the garden, prevented her from going in. 

"Yes?"  Her heartbeat sounded unusually loud to her.  Margaret wondered if Matthew Magnum could hear it.

"About what I said earlier, I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way.  Timmy's lucky to have a sister who cares about him so much."

Margaret didn't say anything.  Magnum's words were more than generous, but she had things to work out for herself.

He let go off the gate and said, "Goodnight, Margaret."

"Night," she echoed, wondering at the strange emptiness she felt as Matthew Magnum walked away.

CHAPTER SIX

"What happened here?" 

Margaret looked around Jack and Gina's living room the next afternoon.  There was an assortment of packages of all sizes and shapes on the couch and on the carpet.  Before Matthew Magnum could answer her, the doorbell rang.  Margaret turned to answer it.

A burly man stood on the porch with a huge rocking chair beside him.  Behind him, blocking the end of the drive was a huge truck. 

"Yes?" said Margaret.

"This will come in useful for Jack and Gina's baby, ma'am," the trucker said awkwardly. 

He patted the chair while Margaret stared at him.  She was beginning to have an inkling where all the presents had come from.

"Who shall I say it was from?" she asked in a daze. 

"There's no need to give any name," the man twisted his cap in his hands.  "A few of us heard how the baby came early.  With Jack and Gina just starting out, we thought they might not have too much money to spare.  When Jack told us on the CB that it was a girl...well, I carry furniture for a company in Oregon, and they let me have this chair dirt cheap.  Every baby should be rocked."

Margaret's throat tightened with emotion as she listened to the trucker's disjointed sentences.  The outpouring of caring was hard to believe.  "Thank you," she said softly.

Shutting the door, Margaret turned to Magnum, "Are all these gifts from truckers?"

He nodded, "A few are from people here."

Placing the rocking chair by the fireplace, Margaret walked into the baby's room and stopped.  Against one wall was a changing table, next to it a chest of drawers.  The naked bulb had been removed.  In its place, a teddy bear lamp with a cream shade, sat on the chest of drawers. 

"I don't believe it," said Margaret softly.

"The furniture was dropped off at ten this morning," Magnum said, behind her.  "Man said his family was complete, and his wife wanted Jack and Gina to have the set."

Margaret shook her head.  She had made up her mind to haunt the garage sales in Garrison for furniture and dig through the things in the storage shed in the backyard of the Inner Man, but this exceeded her hopes. 

Magnum had been busy.  The wallpaper border, fixed four feet from the floor, gave the walls the right finishing touch.  There was very little, except the trim, left to do.

Picking up a small paintbrush, Margaret opened the small can of cream paint.  The task would be finished in a couple of hours.  There was no need to return tonight.  Margaret swallowed hard as the memory of her late night picnic with Magnum returned.  Having had a taste of fun, she wanted more of it.

When she finished the window trim, Margaret decided to take a break before tackling the door.  Going into the kitchen for a drink of water, she became aware of a sound on the back verandah.  Stepping to the screen door, she stopped abruptly.  Magnum had his shirt off and was kneeling beside a crib.

Matt heard her come out and stand behind him.

"It’s part of the set," he said over his shoulder.  "But it needed refinishing." 

It had taken him most of the morning to sand the old varnish off.  When finished with a coat of child safe clear sealer, the crib would look better than new.  "What do you think?"

Margaret didn't say anything, and, after a minute, he turned to look at her.  Getting to his feet in one lithe movement, he asked, "What's the matter?"

As tears streamed down her face, Margaret simply shook her head.  Matt wiped his hands on the seat of his pants and cupped her face.  "Maggie, what's wrong?"

"I...I'm so happy for Gina and Jack and the baby," she said with a sniff.

Matt smiled.  "Let me get this straight.  You cry when you're angry, and you also cry when you're happy.  Do you ever cry because you're sad, Margaret?"

Margaret gave him a watery smile.  "I wanted so badly for them to have nice things for the baby."

"And now they have enough for two babies, maybe even three," Matt said whimsically. 

"I'd forgotten how generous truckers are," Margaret said.  "When...when my parents died there were so many truckers who didn't know my parents at the funeral.  They said they had heard of the accident and wanted to offer their condolences in person.  Some of them collected money and gave it to Aunt Jan for us.  When they knew she had started a restaurant, they advertised it by word of mouth.  For months, she had people stop in and say they had heard about the place from another trucker."

Matt turned to look at her, and Margaret saw the surprise in his eyes.  "So, we're not all bad?"

A part of Margaret echoed Matt's amazement, but she had to set the record straight.  "I've never had anything against truckers.  How could I?  It's only their work that is difficult and dangerous."

He turned away and she thought she heard a small sigh escape him before he said, "And here I thought you were putting your fears behind you."

"Matt," she said quickly anxious to change the topic.   “I'm sorry about what I said last night.  I know now you don't want to bowl me over or anything like that."

Their gazes meshed and Margaret felt excitement replace the relief of her apology. 

"Margaret, you've got your wires crossed again."  Laughter warmed his eyes as he placed his hands on her shoulders.  "A part of me does want to bowl you over, but it's not something I can plan cold bloodedly.  It has to happen spontaneously."

"Oh."  Margaret's heart raced.

"Have you ever let anything happen spontaneously, Margaret?"

"Like what?" she asked, unable to unlock her gaze from Matt's.

"Like this."  His mouth brushed over hers.  He lifted his head and looked at her.  Margaret closed her eyes and moved closer.  Matt's lips closed over hers. 

Margaret clung to him as her legs threatened to give way beneath her.  Matt's warm mouth felt wonderful; his firm body encompassing hers ignited an ache all over.  Margaret slid her arms around his neck; let her fingers run through his hair.  Matt hauled her closer.

The doorbell rang.

Matt lifted his head and smiled at her.  "Another fairy godmother?" he asked with a rueful smile.  "I thought they had to pass a course in timing their appearances before they were given their wands.  This one must be a drop-out."

Margaret opened her eyes and looked at him, reluctant to move out of his arms.  The thought of a pair of wings, and a wand, being added to the last burly trucker she had seen, made her smile. 

"Where did you learn so much about fairy godmothers?" she asked.

"Susan's three year old daughter, Melissa Ann," Mat said, "I have to read Cinderella to her every night, when I visit."

Matt let go of her reluctantly, and went into the house.  Margaret lifted a hand to her mouth.  Her lips still pulsed with the warmth of Matt's kiss.  With a small sigh, she returned to her work.

I do want to bowl you over, but it's not something I can plan cold bloodedly.  It has to happen spontaneously.  Like this.

Dipping her brush in cream paint, Margaret moved to the door, staring at it dreamily.  Heat coursed through her veins, and her palms tingled with the memory of the way Matt's bare skin had felt under them.  She closed her eyes.

She was sure Matt would come back to her, that they would continue where they had left off.  She waited till she heard the front door shut and Matt's footsteps come down the hall.  It took her a minute to realize he had gone past the door.

What did you expect?

Margaret swallowed.  Matt's action had cooled her thinking quicker than a pitcher of iced water dumped on her head would. 

You enjoyed the kiss but you can't let anything more develop out of it.

Margaret started moving her brush over the door in even strokes.  She didn't want her feelings for Matt to develop into anything more serious.  In the long empty months after her parents' death Margaret had realized something.  Loving someone exposed one to pain, worry, and the fear of losing them.  With the exception of Aunt Jan and Timmy, she didn't want to allow herself to care for anyone else.

Margaret shook her head to derail the line her thoughts were on.

It was a good thing Gina was going to her mother’s Monday for three days…it would give the room time to lose the smell of paint.

"Hi, Timmy!"

Timmy looked at her and then away as he entered the kitchen and said, "Hi, sis!"

"Going out?"  Margaret bit her lip the minute the question was out.  She sounded nosey.

Timmy nodded.  "TJ and I are going bowling and then we plan to grab a pizza.  I'll see you around, sis."

"Sure," said Margaret. 

Her smile faded as soon as the door closed behind her brother.  Things weren't getting better.  They were getting worse.  She had never had any trouble visualizing Timmy as grown up, but she had never thought of growing up as synonymous with losing him.

Her hands trembled as she heated up the clam chowder Aunt Jan had prepared that afternoon.  The next few weeks weren't going to be the happy family summer she had envisioned.

Margaret walked over to Joe's after dinner, telling herself all she wanted to do was drop off the linen Aunt Jan had bought for the baby, and check if the window and door trim needed another coat of paint.  TJ's mother had dropped by to visit with Aunt Jan, and the two friends were enjoying their usual gossip over coffee and apple pie.

As Margaret unlocked the front door, Matt stuck his head out of the kitchen.  "You're still here?"  Margaret asked in surprise.

He nodded.  "I wanted to finish the crib today.  I have a busy day at the truck stop tomorrow.  Come and see how you like it."

Yesterday he’d wanted to explain to her the kiss meant something to him, that it wasn't simply an experiment, but fear had stopped him.  His response to Margaret Browning was stronger than any he had experienced with any other woman.  He couldn't understand why.  All he knew was he had to take it slow.

"It's beautiful," said Margaret softly.

It had a hard to beat patina that would be safe for the baby.

"Are you in a rush to return, or can you stay?  I've got soda in the refrigerator, and we could sit out here for a while," Matt suggested as he put away all his things in a red tool box.

The heat of the September day had given way to a perfect evening.  Far away, crickets conducted an evening symphony.  A breeze lifted the loose curls at Margaret's neck, and she nodded, "Just for a little while."

Margaret wet her lips as Matt went inside. 

Remember, he's a trucker at heart.  You don't want to feel like this about him.

Feel like what?

Confused, restless, eager. 

There's nothing wrong with simply enjoying the man's company, is there?

Matt returned with the sodas to sit down close to her on the back step, without actually touching her.  She smelled of summer roses, the kind he had in his garden.  She had changed from shorts and a top into a dress.  The square neckline emphasized her long, graceful neck.  Her hair was tied back in its usual pony tail and the urge to crush his mouth against the loose tendrils at her neck was a powerful one.  The cold can of soda in Matt's hand, was at odds with the heat inside him.  Beside him, he heard the little sigh Margaret gave.

"Tired?"  Matt asked.

"Not really.  Just content.  I'd forgotten how nice summer evenings could be in Inchwater.  Washington gets humid in the summer." 

"Are you happy you came home, Margaret?"

She nodded.  "Yes.  Aunt Jan would never have told me how things were with her if I hadn't come home to see for myself.  Now I can make sure she doesn't do too much.  She is looking so much better since you found those two women to help her.  How did you manage that?"

"It wasn't hard to get word out that Janet is a good employer.  Does she always give away more than she sells?" 

Margaret nodded.  "Yes.  You know that old saying:  it's not giving that empties the purse?  Well, I don't know who coined it, but Aunt Jan definitely proved it right.  She has more friends than I can count."

"You've taken after her, haven't you Margaret?"  Matt said. 

Margaret decided it was time to change the subject.  "Aunt Jan said to thank you for the roses you sent her this morning."

"It was my pleasure.  Janet was very kind to me, when I first came to Inchwater.  She encouraged me to make up my mind about having a truck stop here.  I think you were very lucky to have her around while you were growing up."

Margaret nodded. "We were.  I remember once when someone at school made fun of us for being orphans.  I came home in tears.  Aunt Jan told us we may not have parents which, technically speaking, did make us orphans; but we had her, and she was two parents rolled into one.  She could spank as hard as any Daddy, love as much as any Mom.  She told Timmy and me, we were lucky.  Most kids had to listen to two grown-ups, but we only had to listen to her.  She never let us feel sorry for ourselves."

Lifting her can, Margaret took a sip of her soda.  Turning toward Matt, she was taken aback by his absolute stillness.  "Matt, how was your childhood?"