Maggie's Mountain (22 page)

Guilt was like a heavy, wet blanket on her shoulders. She’d been so content to soak up the days with Hale, periodically fighting off the gloom of the knowledge that this could all end any day, that she hadn’t thought he might be curious about Chris. How could she have overlooked this possibility? Or maybe she had suppressed the idea that Hale would want to talk about him. Maybe she had been foolishly hoping they would continue on without looking too deep into her near past.

“If it hurts too much, we don’t have to talk about it.”

She could take his offer, drop the subject, find more balanced ground. But she’d already been honest with him about his father. She had trusted him with a secret he could have used against her. He could have broken her heart a hundred times over. Instead, he was lying here beside her, holding her, comforting her. He was risking his own heart in all his actions and his confessions; it suddenly seemed petty and childish that she was hiding hers.

“No, it’s…it’s fine.” She nestled closer to him, needing his warmth and solidity. “What do you want to know about him?”

He was quiet a long moment, making her wonder if he’d changed his mind. When he finally spoke, it was in a deep, gentle voice that rumbled through his chest.

“How did you meet him?”

Her smile was immediate. “He rear ended me.”

He gave a little jerk underneath her, obviously surprised. “He did what?”

“Chris was on his way to Brian’s house. He got distracted by a group of kids; they were horsing around on the sidewalk, and he was afraid one of them would fall into the road. The person in front of me made a sudden stop, so I had to slam on my brakes, and he didn’t react in time. Needless to say, he was very embarrassed.”

“I imagine.” His voice was filled with reluctant interest, which was something she could understand. “So, he got your name and number.”

“When all was said and done, yes. He saw the boxes of preserves in my backseat and told me he’d be interested in buying some as a gift. A few days later he called to place his order…then he asked me out for coffee. I suppose the rest is history.” Part of her hoped Hale would let it rest there, but deep inside she knew that, for both their sakes, it couldn’t.

“What was he like?”

She balled her fingers into a fist against his chest. “Chris was…he was kind. He was also loyal; more loyal than a person probably should be. His father was in the Army, which meant he never had permanent roots. His mother left when he was just a baby, so he and his dad were like a couple of happy bachelors. They moved around, lived mostly out of boxes, grilled almost everything they ate. He was proud of his father; Chris was nineteen when he died, and he kept all of his dad’s medals. He saved them in a small, hand-carved wooden box that was his grandfather’s. I still have them. I keep saying I’ll donate them to the military museum, but every time I start to, something stops me.”

Hale’s arms tightened around her, as if he thought she might vanish into thin air if he didn’t anchor her to his body. “You loved him.”

And there they were, three little words that were so big they threatened to smother her. “Maggie? Maggie, I’m sorry. I’ve upset you.”

“No.” She took a deep breath, prayed she wouldn’t wimp out. “I loved Chris. I’ve told you that. He took care of me and my mother; he didn’t care about what people said or the rumors they constantly fed him. I loved him for that. He was the first man who ever stood up for me.”

“I hate that I wasn’t.” He took her hand in his, rubbed her skin tenderly with his thumb. “I hate that I should have known,” he said, then placed a delicate kiss on her knuckles. “I hate that you went through what you did, and that I didn’t do a damn thing to help.” He kissed her hand again, as if trying to ease away any lingering pain.

“Chris was a good man. Hale…” She leaned back and stared down into his rugged face, knowing she had to look at him when she told him the absolute truth. “I loved Chris. But I…I knew that I wasn’t…I wasn’t
in love
with him.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Not in love with him? What are you talking about, Maggie?”

She wet her dry lips and took a bare moment to collect her courage. “He was my husband, and I loved the man he was, but he never had my whole heart. There was always that small corner that he could never get to.”

“There was someone else?”

“No. I went to college, held down jobs, helped mother. I was too busy to have more than a handful of dates. Then I started my business, and I was definitely too busy for anything other than that. I suppose by the time I met Chris I was ready to move forward. I wanted to be a wife, to share my life with someone, to have a family and a loving home. I did love Chris. I still think about him, I still care about who he was, and what he meant to me. You have to understand that; he was an important part of my life.”

“I believe I’ve already told you I understood that. You aren’t a woman who walks away from a commitment easily.” He laid a tender kiss on her lips before he continued. “I appreciate him, too, you know. He was here for you when I wasn’t. He took care of you when I couldn’t. He accepted you when I wouldn’t. I don’t want to fight his ghost anymore, Maggie. Neither of us should.”

Her heart cracked, squeezed, and all the small crevices that had been left unhealed were suddenly filled with hope. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t leave; perhaps, a little voice inside her head whispered, this really could be happily ever after.

“Make love to me, Hale.”

He pulled her closer and lowered his head, stopping when his mouth was a breath away from hers. “Gladly.”

Chapter Eighteen

Mac was dancing around Maggie’s feet, vibrating with sheer joy as she opened the side door to the dining room. She chuckled as he raced ahead of her, then stopped to spin on his back feet to stare at her with adulation.

“I’m going to have to bathe you tomorrow,” she told him; he merely plopped on his bottom and grinned as he panted. “You almost had that rabbit. Maybe next time.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him he hadn’t even been close to catching his prey. He probably wouldn’t even have known what to do with it if he’d caught it. As a watch dog he was fabulous; as a hunter, not so much.

“Let’s get the shrimp marinating,” she said as she moved toward the kitchen. “Hale said he’ll be here for dinner.”

At the sound of Hale’s name, Mac leapt up and spun a circle. She could understand how he felt; she wanted to giggle and turn in circles, too, when she thought of the hunk of a man sitting in her home, sharing a meal…sharing her bed.

She was almost blushing with anticipation when Mac paused in his excitement, lowering his head as his ears perked up. She knew that stance now; someone was coming. She took a deep breath, reminded herself again that everything was fine. She listened as the humming of a car engine eased down the driveway, caught the glint of autumn sun on silver paint. She had a bad moment when the vehicle didn’t stop, instead continuing on to the back side of the cabin. Taking a deep breath, she peered out the dining room window, only to stare in surprise when she realized who it was.

Apparently Cordelia Warrick had decided to pay her a visit. No doubt she wanted to talk about Hale. She would be chomping at the bit, ready to do whatever she needed in order to keep mountain trash away from her darling son. Well, at least they shared one thing: they both loved Hale. If Maggie allowed herself to be optimistic, she could hope that one common factor might be a starting point to a truce.

She pulled her shoulders back and reminded herself to be calm, no matter what Hale’s mother might say or do. Making sure her face was set in neutral lines, she opened the door and stepped outside. She waited patiently as Cordelia stepped out of her car, her neat beige pantsuit a stark contrast to the earthy surroundings.

“Mrs. Warrick.” There was no inflection; it was a statement of fact.

“Ms. Cooper.” She knew Cordelia had used her maiden name as a subtle jab.

“Would you like to come in? Or would you rather stay outside?” Maggie stood, her face betraying nothing about her feelings.

The other woman stared her down for a moment. “I think we ought to go inside.”

Maggie nodded and waited for Cordelia to skirt the large fenced area and mount the stairs before she turned to go inside. Mac growled low in his throat and Cordelia stopped short, putting a shaking hand to her heart.

“What is this?”

“This is Mac,” Maggie told her. “Why don’t you go on through?”

Maggie held the dog’s collar as she waited for Mrs. Warrick to make her way to the living room. Once she was there, Maggie patted Mac on the head in reassurance.

“I hate to do it, but I’m going to have to close you in here. I can’t have you scaring Hale’s mother…no matter how much I might think about it later.”

Maggie smoothed down her flannel shirt and jeans, trying not to compare her disheveled appearance to Cordelia’s smooth, cool presence. Part of her wanted to stay in the room with Mac, put off the confrontation until sometime next year. But that was the cowardʼs way out, and if she’d learned anything it was that waiting to say what was important wasted precious time. Time you couldn’t get back.

She finally stepped into the living area, quietly pulling the pocket door closed behind her. She paused long enough to watch Hale’s mother as she studied the room. What was it she saw, Maggie wondered. Did she see the open floor plan that was clean, warm with sunshine, cozy with comfortable clutter? Or was she comparing the humble surroundings to the large mansion on the hill, and finding it wanting?

Maggie cleared her throat. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Cordelia turned to study Maggie with steady eyes. “I believe you know why I’m here.”

Of course she did, but she wanted to hear how the other woman would explain the situation. “I believe I might, but why don’t you tell me, just in case?”

“My husband wouldn’t have lied.”

Maggie blinked, taking a moment to absorb the unexpected statement. “Excuse me?”

“You seem to have convinced my son that his father lied about your mother. I don’t have to guess how you managed that.” She ran her gaze up and down Maggie’s body, a look of distain on her face. “I will not allow you to smear Royce’s name.”

It didn’t take much to realize precisely what Mrs. Warrick was talking about, and who had told her about the truth. “If I wanted to ruin your husband’s name I would have done it years ago.”

“But it was better to wait until you could seduce one of the Warricks over to your side.” Cordelia took a shaky breath, the first sign her composure was shaken. “You have achieved your goal, Ms. Cooper.”

Maggie shifted her weight and stared at her with unflinching steadiness. “Achieved my goal? And what was that, Mrs. Warrick?”

“My son, my family, my money…everything your mother couldn’t have. Apparently this is some sort of family trait, to seek out and bewitch the Warrick men.”

“Bewitch?” Maggie couldn’t help it; she had to fight back a smile. “I can assure you I’m not the sort of woman who sits in her living room at night and utters incantations.”

“No, you just wave sex under his nose.”

It wasn’t anger that reared its head, but a strange mix of pity and sadness. “Maybe you should speak with Hale about who chased whom.”

The older woman flinched, as if she couldn’t stand to hear her son’s name on Maggie’s lips. “How dare you. I know exactly what you’re like. I know the sort of women you Cooper females are. You covet our money, our reputation, our name.”

Maggie watched her, suddenly knowing why her mother had sought to protect Cordelia. It was something she’d never really understood—until now. She knew Royce had been a lousy husband; she hadn’t known just how shattered he’d left his wife. For a woman with so much pride, it had to be a living nightmare to think the man she’d married was a philanderer. It had to hurt even worse to think that he’d actually been lying about it, happier to harass another woman than to try to make his marriage work.

She finally let out a long breath. “What do I have to do to convince you that neither I nor my mother wanted any of those things?”

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare try to lie. You’ve already convinced my son Rebecca wanted nothing to do with Royce. Well, you won’t persuade me; I’m not stupid, nor am I blind.”

The truth was harsh, so she couched it in a gentle voice. “No, I don’t think you’re either of those. I think you’re a woman who wanted love, who deserves to be loved, but whose husband never gave her enough.”

Hale’s mother raised an accusing finger and pointed at her. “You have no right to talk to me like that.”

Maggie didn’t react the way she was sure Cordelia expected. Instead of bitter words, she relaxed her body and leaned a scant inch toward her. “Of all the people in this world, Mrs. Warrick, I believe I do.”

“You…you…” The words were coated with unshed tears.

Maggie was about to offer coffee again when she saw Cordelia dig through her purse and yank out a checkbook. Her sympathy snapped from compassion to impatience in a matter of seconds.

“Please don’t do what I think you’re about to.”

Cordelia appeared momentarily stunned by the rigid words laced with disappointment. “This is the only thing you understand.”

“You’ve been watching too many dramas.”

“Name your price, Ms. Cooper—”

“It’s Mrs. Brannon.”

Cordelia pursed her lips in irritation. “Whatever name you’re choosing to use right now doesn’t concern me. Other than whom I make the check out to.”

Maggie paused, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then turned her shuttered gaze on the other woman. “I don’t want your money, Mrs. Warrick. I never have. And, believe it or not, neither did my mother.”

“That is quite enough.” Her temper was obvious now, foaming up to show itself in the heat of her words. “I am
not
my son. I have already warned you that I
will not
be swayed by your lies.”

Maggie stared straight at Cordelia, making sure she felt the vehemence behind her next statement. “And I won’t be swayed by your money
or
your threats.”