Maggies Marriage (Cloverleaf #2) (24 page)

When he turned to meet her gaze, she could see the wetness pooling at the rim of his eyelids, threatening to spill over. It broke her heart witnessing the pain he was undoubtedly experiencing. She pulled him to her and held him.

Time stood still; it hung in the balance, waiting. Michael wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. “I just wanted to do a walk through again before I call the agent to list the property. I’ve already hired a team to come in and move everything into storage for us to handle later.”

He started moving toward the expansive living room with the giant fireplace, which seemed to be crawling up toward the high vaulted ceilings with the exposed beams. The room was breathtaking. Maggie followed closely behind him. He was walking with purpose, a business-like pace, his jaw tight, and his eyes focused and serious. He looked every inch the attorney he used to be. Michael paused, as if taking mental inventory of the prized possessions. It wasn’t as though he wanted anything, there were no childhood mementos that he would cherish. His parents had quickly gotten rid of all the effects of his young years once he was a teenager. His old bedroom was promptly remodeled into a showcase guest room. Maggie couldn’t imagine her mother ever changing anything. Her room was still the same as it had been when she left for Seattle. Over the last six years, it had been Maggie’s suggestion to make it a little more suitable as a guest room, but Mary insisted keeping it fairly reminiscent of Maggie’s life there.

Michael’s stride was quick as he leaped up the wide staircase. He glanced back at Maggie and said, “You don’t need to come up, I won’t be long.” He continued up the stairs.

She was curious why he didn’t want her to follow him. Maybe he needed space to sort the jumbled emotions he was going through. Maggie strolled back into the living room, examining different art on the wall. His mother had had an excellent eye; the pieces were colorful and simply exquisite. Maggie, who enjoyed painting, and had been fairly good at it at one point, wished she could have been closer to her husband’s mother. They could have talked about their favorite artists and maybe went to a gallery, but she wasn’t that kind of woman. She barely tolerated being a parent and didn’t have much room available in her heart. It wasn’t until Melanie was born that Maggie had seen her warm a little, but she was tragically gone too soon. Her death had crushed Michael and his father, but it brought them closer, which in its own way was a blessing. Michael had been basically shunned by his father, but once his mother had died they leaned on each other, changing their relationship for the better. Maggie knew that his sudden death had torn him up. But with death came life; such was the full, ever-changing circle. She felt that change kicking and stretching inside her as she placed her hand over her belly, cradling the moving lump under her skin.

“They would have loved you very much,” Maggie said to her baby. She didn’t hear Michael return, but caught a glimpse of his figure as he stood watching her.

“They really would have,” Michael said as he went to her and placed both of his hands on her belly. He kneeled down and kissed her stomach. “Hey, you in there, Daddy loves you.”

Maggie released a giggle, she knew Michael would continue to grieve, but the little life inside her would carry on their memory, pieces of them would live on, as they did with Melanie. That was the beauty of family.

***

Maggie stood in the center of their nearly empty living room. The movers were loading the last bit of boxes and furniture. The place felt so odd; it looked a lot bigger with everything removed. She had swept, mopped, and scrubbed every surface from top to bottom, her body ached, but the deep clean smell was worth her efforts.

“This is the last of it,” Michael announced as he picked up a couple of boxes. Two younger men dressed in matching uniforms used a hand truck to load another tower of boxes that were stacked near the hall by the entrance. Michael followed them out, but not before winking at Maggie and flashing her a half grin.

Maggie grabbed a leftover roll of paper towels and sprayed window cleaner on the large living room window. She wiped the surface, ridding it of any streaks or smudges and then watched the traffic roll past. She had spent many nights staring out this same window, waiting, wondering, and worrying. The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions, highs and lows. Maggie felt drained. She was thankful that they had accomplished what they had set out to do.

After the movers had gone, Michael leaned against the counter, surveying the space.

“I’m so glad that’s over,” he said, covering his mouth as he tried to stifle a yawn.

“Me too.” Seeing him yawn caused her to release one of her own. Both were worn out and near starving.

“Sleep or food?” Michael asked as he rubbed his face hard, a feeble attempt as he tried to shake away some of the exhaustion.

“Well, we haven’t eaten much, but God, I’m so tired too.”

“It’s our last night here, and you know what sounds fantastic right now?”

Nothing sounded fantastic right then, they were hungry, dirty, and tired. They were planning on sleeping on a blow up mattress so they could easily load it into the truck the following morning. She hated sleeping on those things, but Maggie was a trooper and was willing to suffer to get the whole moving process over with. Right then, showering and sleeping was high on the priority list, but she entertained Michael’s question.

“Hmm, not sure, what?” Maggie feigned interest.

“A bread bowl with the best clam chowder in Seattle,” he stated very matter-of-factly.

That did sound delicious and wonderful: the creamy concoction, with its bits of tender clam meat, roasted corn, chunks of potatoes, and the perfect blend of seasonings. She drooled as she envisioned the warm, crusty bread that was served with it.

“Yes!”

“Let’s clean up, and I’ll call a cab,” Michael offered.

***

A light drizzle tapped against the roof of the cab as they drove toward the waterfront. The cab driver dropped them off within walking distance of Pike Place Market, home of Seattle’s best chowder. They had used the last bit of their energy getting out of the cab.

With bread bowls in front of them, each let out a satisfied moan. The evening lights danced on the surface of the water, and the pungent, salty scent of the sea hovered around them. The rain had passed, everything was damp, but they located a covered patio area outside with a great view that had remained partially dry. Michael and Maggie sighed in unison as they consumed the warm soup, taking in the sights of the popular tourist area.

The waterfront was a well known boardwalk, with little shops and eateries that was usually packed full with out-of-towners during the warmer months. Locals knew the right time to visit and to shop in order to avoid the heavy foot traffic. Maggie had enjoyed taking Melanie shopping or going to visit the aquarium. She had enjoyed looking beyond the harbor, out into Puget Sound. Maggie suddenly felt a bit homesick; she would miss that part of Seattle. She wouldn’t miss the fast pace of living or the thick slough of people in rush hour traffic. But knowing the vast ocean was just beyond the line of boats that trailed in the distant horizon was almost magical.

“You almost done, babe?” Michael asked as he gathered his trash.

“Sure,” Maggie replied, scooping the last little bits of chowder out of the bowl. “That was so good.”

“You’re welcome.” A playful, smug look was on his face.

“Hey, it was a great idea, I’ll give you that.”

“Well, I aim to please.” A wicked smile appeared on his lips.

Maggie rolled her eyes. Her husband had an insatiable sexual appetite. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I think you know the answer.” he winked as he grabbed the trash from her and threw everything away in a trash can a few feet away.

“Is that all you think about?” Maggie asked as she watched him jog back to her quickly.

“Pretty much, and food.” He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

***

Maggie flipped over to her side, the squishy air mattress heaved and moved. She grunted in frustration; she hadn’t slept well, but she had expected that. They had a long drive ahead of them, and would easily be on the road for six to seven hours. Maggie figured she might as well get up, no point in wallowing in her discomfort any longer. After pushing herself off the bed in a near gymnastic stunt, she was upright. She eyed a sleeping Michael, the sheet draped haphazardly over his body. She knew that he had next to nothing on, and the thought sent a zing through her. Apparently she wasn’t much better than him when it came to having insatiable desire. Maggie made her way to the bathroom to shower and dress for the day but couldn’t empty several naughty thoughts that were running wild in her mind.

Emerging from a steamy shower that felt almost heavenly, she entered their bedroom and saw Michael sitting up in the blow-up bed. He threw her a happy smile.

“You are up early,” he said as he yawned and stretched naked arms over his head. His dark, nearly black hair was messy and incredibly sexy. His brown eyes still sleep heavy.

Maggie sighed as she took in the sight of her gorgeous husband. “I think I’m just anxious to get on the road.” She crept closer to the mattress as she spoke, still drying her hair in a thick towel and tightening the one that covered her body. Michael reached for her and pulled her down to his lap, causing her to squeal and playfully slap him away.

“I’m surprised you didn’t sleep after how last night went,” Michael responded, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Good grief, you know how much I hate air mattresses. They are just so darn uncomfortable, and you always take up most of it.” She poked him playfully in the chest.

“Well, you shouldn’t have tried to sleep so far away, spoon with me next time, and you will have a lot more room,” he suggested as he started kissing her bare shoulder.

“If I did that, you wouldn’t let me sleep. I know better than to spoon with the likes of you, mister.” Maggie grabbed his face and planted a soft kiss on his mouth.

Michael let out a laugh. “The likes of me? Oh now you’re in trouble.”

Maggie felt like they were on a second honeymoon, constantly touching, kissing, and basking in their love. She remembered when things weren’t that way, when she slept alone wondering where he was or when he would be home. That was all behind them, and their marriage was stronger and better than ever. The love had always been there, but now it shone brilliantly above everything else.

***

The truck rattled and shook; it was heavy and weighed down with everything they wanted to bring to their new home. Seattle faded into the background as they headed east out on the freeway, crossing a bridge over a small body of water. The sensation of departing from their past life and moving in the direction of their future brought a sense of excitement and joy to Maggie.

Their surroundings kept changing as they traveled, walls of mountains on either side of them becoming rolling hills, which turned into desert canyons as they inched closer to home. Washington’s landscape varied drastically, offering different terrain across the state. The drive along Interstate 90 was actually smooth, the traffic almost nonexistent, even with their late start and several rest stops along the way, they made remarkable time and were able to enjoy the trip. Michael and Maggie spent most of their time chatting about how they were going to decorate their new home and plans for Michael’s practice. They tossed around different baby names, and wondered what gender the baby might be. The future was open to so many possibilities.

They cruised through the large city of Spokane; they were on the final push, the last leg of the tiring journey. Michael had driven the entire time, but Maggie’s body was starting to complain. They stopped in Spokane for something to eat, and the rest had been much needed. Once they felt rejuvenated and ready to conquer the road, they loaded themselves back into the massive truck.

Birch Valley was a little more than an hour north of Spokane. The single lane highway that would carry them home had very few drivers on it. They sailed through several small towns along the way, with lakes on one side, shimmering with the sun’s beautiful light, and large fields with ancient looking barns standing alone on another. Homes lined Highway 395.

As Maggie stared out her window, she took it all in, the sky cloudless and perfect, the best shade of blue, and the kind that painters dream of. Lilac bushes were in full bloom, lavender, magenta, and white flowers hung from hardy branches filled with thick, glossy green leaves. They only flowered for a short time, but their delicate fragrance was incredible. Wispy wildflowers speckled the surrounding hills; everything was brilliant, the colors bold and gorgeous. That was why she loved the area; the natural beauty was unmatched.

Maggie could see the thick line of evergreen trees as they coasted down the hill that would lead them to Birch Valley. Maggie looked over Michael, and they both wore the same expression, happy to finally be home.

Epilogue

Patrick

Patrick tapped his fingers hard against the steering wheel of his SUV. There was no music playing, no beat to drum them to. He was fidgeting purely from annoyance. The O’Brien women had crossed the line, and the main culprit was his sister, Maggie. He didn’t appreciate them sticking their nose in his business. Setting up an online dating profile just went against everything he was about. He knew Maggie, Rachel, and his mother all meant well; they were only trying to help. But the fact remained that he was still hurting. He missed Beth with all the last remaining broken shards of his heart. She had been gone almost four years. He would never forget, especially since the day she died was the same day Finn and Connor had been born.

He could see something coming up in the road and started to reduce his speed. He had wanted to go for a drive. He wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, but just wanted to clear his mind. People hardly traveled on the old country road, and as he pulled up he noticed that a car with a small trailer had its hazard lights on. A woman stood by the side of it, one arm extended high towards the sky, not to flag him down, but by the looks of it trying to get a signal for her cell phone.
Well, good luck with that.

Rolling his window down, he cautiously asked, “Excuse me, do you need any help?”

What Patrick wasn’t prepared for was the most incredible eyes that stared back at him: they were a deep, sea green, helpless and lost. Her face had a hint of something familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Her long black hair laid against the middle of her back, and several strands were flying wildly with the swift breeze that was blowing.

“Hi, thanks so much for stopping. We blew a tire on that trailer.” She pointed at the small rental trailer that was connected to the car.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Patrick offered.

“I’d be very grateful.”

He maneuvered his own vehicle off the road and parked behind the trailer. Patrick hopped out and met her by the shredded tire, bits and chunks of rubber were scattered nearby. He knelt down to see if there was a spare, luckily there was.

“I can change this and get you back on the road,” he said as he assessed the situation. “I’m Patrick O’Brien, by the way.” He extended his hand to her after wiping it on the back of his jeans.

Her mouth opened wide into a pleasant and grateful smile. “I thought that was you. I’m Amber Mills,” she said, but then shook her head as Patrick gave her a confused look. “I mean, I was Amber Herrick, my parents own the diner in town. You and I went to school together.”

That’s where I know her from. I knew she looked familiar.
Patrick was floored with how gorgeous she was. He didn’t remember her looking like that in school, he would’ve remembered her for sure.

She stood a lot shorter than him, her curvy figure hugged in dark wash jeans, and a soft, red, cotton shirt. Patrick couldn’t explain the sudden attraction he felt toward her as he tried desperately to pull himself together. This wasn’t like him at all, easily stirred up by a woman.

“So what brings you back to Birch Valley?”

Amber bit her lip. Patrick tried hard to resist staring at her full mouth as she said, “Well, I’m moving back.”

Damn.