Only You (2 page)

They all started talking at once. Maggie tried to get up off the couch, but moaned with pain and fell back onto it. Sammie scolded her about putting weight on her foot. Claire talked over them to tell him it wasn’t necessary to leave.

Yeah, it was. Right now, before they drove him nuts. He turned on his heel and escaped out the door.

Maggie flopped back on the sofa and shoved her hair off her face as she looked up at her two best friends. Seeing their faces made her feel better. “I can’t believe he left. I feel so bad.”

Claire frowned at the doorway. “JD pretty much does what he wants. I hope he’s going to be okay.”

“Where is he going?” Her Great Idea was off to a lousy start. Right away she’d found the perfect man for the job, and she’d scared him away. Big surprise.

“He has his own house about two miles from here, but he hasn’t lived there for a while. Not since I arrived, anyway, and maybe longer.”

“This is Ethan’s ranch?” Maggie asked.

“Yes. JD’s been working it for him. He’s a good rancher.”

Maggie grinned. “An honest-to-God cowboy. A really hot one, too. Remember our cowboy phase, when we swore we’d marry cowboys someday?”

Sammie sat beside Maggie and tucked her legs under her. “We were so young and naive.”

“Oh, baby.” Maggie put her arm around her friend and kissed her forehead. “Don’t give up. Maybe things aren’t the way we thought they would be, but we can still dream. Take me, for example. I’ve decided to be mistress of my own universe.”

“What’s that mean?” Claire pulled over a footstool, sat and gently picked up Maggie’s foot until it rested on her lap. She put the bag of ice on the swollen ankle.

Maggie smiled at the suspicion in Claire’s voice. Always the one to play it safe. “I’ve made a decision. Since my ex couldn’t see his way to having a child with me, I’m taking matters into my own hands. I’m going to have my own baby.”

Sammie giggled. “Last time I checked, you needed two to get that job done.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m here. I mean, other than to spend time with my two best friends.”

“You’re looking for another husband?” Claire asked.

“Cut your tongue out! I’m looking for the father of my child. I’ve thought it over, and I want the best for my baby. I don’t want her to start life in a test tube or whatever. I want to have fun conceiving. And I’m sick of wimpy men. I need a real man. What better place to find one than in ranch country?”

“How’s that going to work? Will you tell the lucky man he’s going to be a father?”

Maggie squirmed. Trust Claire to hit on the weak spot of her plan. “There’s no sense in warning him beforehand. And after . . . well, maybe when the child is four or five years old I could drop the father a note. It’s not like I need financial support. And you’ll both be aunties. Right? I don’t need a man to have a baby, but I thought I might as well have fun getting pregnant.”

“And you think JD is good daddy material,” Claire said.

Maggie’s pulse picked up. “I think he’s perfect. You have to admit he’s a gorgeous specimen.”

Claire scowled at Sammie when she nodded her head in agreement. “I don’t know JD’s story because he’s a private man. But I can tell you this: A smart, talented, good-looking man like JD isn’t single without a reason. There are deep waters there, Maggie. You’d do better to look elsewhere for your father material. And—”

When Claire hesitated, Maggie prodded her friend with her good foot to continue. Claire had been her moral compass for most of her life. Claire’s warm hand wrapped around her foot and squeezed.

“—I worry about you, honey. You and Dominic had such an acrimonious divorce. It’s only been a year. Maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“No.” Maggie felt the old sadness settle around her. “When I look back at our marriage, I think, you know, I think it was never right. Maybe the first year was good. But he knew how much I wanted a baby, and he always convinced me to wait.”

She looked down at her hands in her lap. “Then he got that other woman pregnant and couldn’t wait to divorce me to marry her.” She swallowed the bitter despair that lodged in her throat. “I thought Dominic loved me, you know? But then I looked hard at our marriage and realized he used me to get close to my family.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Imagine his disappointment when he realized I was the black sheep, and the Kennedys weren’t my real family. I can’t believe it took me so long to leave him.”

She reached forward and took Claire’s hands in hers. “I know the ethics are a little wonky with my idea, but I want a family of my own. I’m tired of being screwed around by other people, and I need to take matters into my own hands. I need to prove I have some control over my life.”

“You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Maggie.” Sammie laid her head on Maggie’s shoulder.

Claire’s expression softened. “Sammie’s right. You are. You’re going to be the fun mom on the block. And I’m going to be the honorary aunt who takes my niece to New York once a year.”

“I’ve got dibs on spending Christmas together,” Sammie added. “Where do you think you’ll live?”

“I haven’t a clue. Close to you two, I hope. It’s not like the Kennedys give two hoots where I settle.”

Claire stood. “I guess we’ll figure out that part when we get to it, seeing as I’m stuck here for another six months. Ethan and his damned complicated contracts. I still haven’t a clue what he thinks he’s doing, but when I finally see him, I plan to find out.”

Maggie had an idea what Ethan was up to, at least about stashing Claire away on his ranch, and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with organizing whatever there was to organize around here. She suspected Ethan had plans for Claire, and she fervently hoped she’d be around when Mr. Cooper discovered Claire preferred to make her own plans. Sparks were likely to fly.

Maggie slid forward. “I need a shower and to unpack. As soon as I’m mobile, I’ll visit JD and assure him I won’t be staying long. Especially if I can jump his bones right away.” She wiggled her eyebrows as a shiver worked its way through her.

With his broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms, JD was the perfect male specimen, no argument there. But she had to admit it was sad that he lived in his brother’s house while his own sat empty. Deep waters indeed. Good thing all she was looking for was a couple of long, sultry nights of hot sex. She imagined she and JD Cooper could manage that and hopefully have fun. Then she’d be on her way, and JD would never know what hit him. 

JD eased his truck as close to the horse barn as he could and lowered the window. If he got out of the truck, Ethan’s head cattleman, Dave Winters, would want to talk for half the evening about the pink Porsche parked in front of the house. He whistled, and a few horses neighed in reply, and Dave came out of the shadowy interior of the barn.

“That’s some car.” Dave tipped his cowboy hat to the back of his head.

“Claire’s friend. I’m moving up to my house. I’ll be back in an hour. You can get me on my cell if you need anything.” He started to power the window up, but Dave clamped his hand on the edge to stop him.

“You okay?”

JD shoved his sunglasses up on his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated when people talked to him with that mix of concern and pity in their voice. But he endured it because not very long ago, it had been a legitimate question. He slid his glasses back into place. “I’m okay. I should have moved months ago.”

“You need help with anything, you call.”

JD nodded. “You putting the new mare through her paces this afternoon?”

“Some. She’s a big one, but she’s well behaved. It’ll be hard to find a buyer for her, though. She’s too big.”

 “I know it. We’ll find someone to fit.” He thought of Maggie with her long legs and wide smile and wondered if she rode.
Horses.
Aw, hell. A few minutes around the woman, and she’d already burrowed under his skin. He shoved the truck in reverse and started edging backward. “If you don’t have time, leave her. I’ll take her out later.”

He knew he’d been foolish to buy those damned horses. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Just because they were flawed in some way didn’t mean there wasn’t a place for them somewhere. He cursed under his breath. Ethan was right. He had to give up and move on. He wasn’t a rancher, for chrissakes. At the moment, he didn’t know what he wanted to do, but this . . . hiding on his brother’s ranch wasn’t working for him anymore. No more horses. Lulu was the last one.

JD turned his truck around and headed up the dirt road to his house. He’d planned to pave the road, but there hadn’t seemed to be any point to it if no one was living there. He could sell the house, of course. It was two miles from the ranch and wouldn’t affect anything there if he sold. But he hadn’t gotten to a place in his head where he could think about selling. Some dreams died hard, he supposed. He’d known this was coming. He’d felt restless more and more often lately. Maybe moving up here would be a good thing, push him out of the rut he was in. Make him think of the future instead of being stuck in the past.

He intended to toss his bag inside the door and turn on the water pump, then leave, but as usual, the house called to him once he stepped inside. Seduced him, really. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

He ran his hand along the butcher’s block beside the propane stovetop. He was a good architect, had a feel for space and form. Before he’d quit, his house plans had been in high demand. He’d even gone out on his own and started a company. He’d thought maybe he could get a hold of the whole thing that way. Have more control over the hours he worked. Lydia had always complained about his long hours. She’d even accused him of having affairs, but that wasn’t true. He’d looked and had been tempted, but what he’d wanted most was a family. But people didn’t always get what they wanted, no matter how hard they tried.

Lydia had been right all along. He’d worked too much.

He turned and squinted up at the natural daylight spilling in through the row of windows high up on the wall. A nod to Frank Lloyd Wright. Funny how hard work was his saving grace now. Good hard physical labor: driving fence posts, herding cattle, riding hard. He liked it when his muscles ached at the end of the day, and he could look back and see how much he’d accomplished. He wasn’t as good a rancher as he’d been an architect, but he did okay.

He turned on the water and watched it run for a minute, then opened the cupboard for a glass. Damn. He’d forgotten he didn’t have even a glass to drink out of, because he’d never lived here, and neither had anyone else.

He’d have to go back to Ethan’s house and get a few things until . . . until he needed more. He couldn’t imagine really moving into this house. When he’d built it, all he could think about was living here. But by the time the house had been completed, he couldn’t bring himself to spend even one night.

Three years. He didn’t expect he’d ever forgive himself for what had happened. But at least he’d stopped picking at the scabs that covered the wounds.

And maybe now it was time to take another step. Try staying for a night or two. More like a week to give himself a chance. If it drove him crazy, he’d put the house on the market. Several people had already approached him about buying it. One way or another, maybe he could finally leave the past behind.

He locked the side door he’d used to come in and went out the back door to the slate terrace. He’d planned to plant roses along the edge of the terrace but had never gotten around to it. It still needed something. The terrace was nice with the mountains climbing right up out of the backyard, but the space was too sparse. Nothing to soften all that rock. Maybe he could get Claire and her friends interested in planting a few bushes.

He went back in and turned on the outside light in case he came back to the house late, then locked the door and pocketed the keys. He didn’t want to think about coming back to all this emptiness later. The house had been built for a large family, but he’d never have children. He’d be better off if he sold it, not to mention a helluva lot richer. But after all the work and money he’d put into the house, he could at least stay for a night or two. He could handle that.