Can't Stop Loving You (14 page)

And she would. In New York City.

How many times did you have to burn your fingers before you stepped away from the fire?

The tear that dripped from her chin went ignored.

M
aggie yawned. How could it be morning already? She'd barely slept. It had been strange coming home to an empty house last night, knowing her grandfather was on his honeymoon. Probably best she didn't dwell on that.

She threw an arm across her forehead. Yesterday had been exhausting, both physically and emotionally. But at the same time, it had been wonderful, and her grandfather had a life companion again. Dottie would take good care of him and he of her.

Last night, though, she'd screwed up badly.

Brawley, in his tailored suit, had about knocked her off her feet. A Texas cowboy from the tips of his boots to the crown of his Stetson, he cleaned up darn well.

Closing her eyes, she could still feel his skilled hands running over her body, exciting her. Could still taste him, the thrill of those lips trailing over her face, her neck. Lower. Those deep blue eyes had caressed her. His thick, dark hair had driven her wild as she'd run her fingers through it.

All these years, as much as she'd tried not to, she'd dreamed of holding him, sharing kisses with him again. Well, now she had—several times this past week. Damn if he wasn't like sugar, though. One taste and she craved another and another and another.

On an intellectual level, she understood she was being extremely unfair to him. Deep down she expected him to make amends for the past. But how could he fix something when he didn't understand how broken it truly was…and why?

She'd come so close last night to telling him about the baby. What good would that do, though? He'd be racked with guilt. For what? He couldn't change what had happened.

And at this point in her life? She had to put it behind her for good. Had to move past it. This was her time. Her chance to shoot for the stars. If that made her selfish, so be it. She'd protected Brawley from the truth all these years…and would continue to.

She tossed back the bed covers. She and Brawley had had their moment, and it was gone. Over. Last night could never, ever happen again.
Would
never happen again. That was the way it had to be.

Once she'd come to her senses last night and her brain began functioning again, she'd realized she'd miscalculated horribly. At least she'd called a halt to it before…well, before.

She'd allow herself today to lick her wounds and wallow in self-pity. One final day of mourning what could have been. When she went to bed tonight, she'd be done with it.

With the wedding over, she could concentrate on her upcoming move. She'd grab a shower, throw on her rattiest outfit, and fix herself a nice breakfast. Then she'd roll up her sleeves and pack. Time to decide what would go with her and what she'd store in the attic.

Pops and Dottie would be gone for a few days. When they returned, they planned to spend a few nights at her house. Maggie assumed they wanted to give her space. And it would give them private time to settle into their marriage. What newlyweds needed a third thumb?

They were bound to spend some time here after she left for New York. Stepping into the shower, Maggie sighed, then lathered her hair. How odd to think of another woman in Grandma Trudy's house. But time brought changes.

If Gramps could move on, so could she.

She would. She had. She'd built a great little business. Women drove a hundred miles to visit her boutique.

As she rinsed her hair, Maggie admitted the chances were good that Pops would sell this house. Women tended to nest deeper than men. Dottie would want to stay in Maverick Junction, and that was probably the smartest decision. Her place would be far easier to maintain than this big old house. The move would put Pops closer to her mom and dad, too, if he ever needed them.

Her melancholy deepened. There would be no coming home ever again. Stepping from the shower, she pressed the power button for her stereo and sang along with Lady Antebellum's newest song.

Fortified by a couple scrambled eggs and a huge glass of orange juice, she tackled her room. Knee-deep in boxes and old newspapers, she started when her phone rang. Blowing a strand of hair from her eyes, she checked the clock.

Eleven thirty. Where had the morning gone?

By the third ring, she'd unearthed her phone, hoping it was Pops.

It wasn't. It was Sophie.

“Hey, girlfriend, why don't you hop in the car and come over for lunch?”

“Thanks, but I'm good, Sophie.”

“Come on. I know you. You're moping around that empty house.”

Maggie laughed. “I started out that way this morning and gave myself a few minutes of pity-me. But I have so much to take care of, I couldn't wallow for long.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Packing up my personal things and trying to decide what I'll leave here and what I'll ship to New York.”

“You can do that tonight. I need you to come save me.”

“From what?”

“Ty's out in the barn with a sick cow.”

Maggie could almost see the grimace twist Sophie's lips. City to the core, she still struggled with ranch life.

“That leaves me here with the three little ones. I could use an adult to talk to.”

“Oh, you're good, Sophie Rawlins.”

Her friend sighed. “Sophie Rawlins. I still find it hard to believe Ty and I are really married.”

“You're happy.”

“I am. Now get in the car and get over here.”

“Give me about forty minutes. You don't even want to see me looking the way I do.”

“Come on. You couldn't look bad if you tried.”

Maggie glanced at the large mirror against the far wall. She took in her wildly curling red hair, the dust on the tip of her nose, the raggedy sweatshirt and cut-offs. “Oh, believe me, I could scare small children right now.”

“I seriously doubt it.” After a second, Sophie said, “That might not be a bad thing. Get over here and scare these three boys into cleaning their room.”

Hanging up, Maggie took in the chaos around her. Piles covered every surface. Clothes lay heaped on her bed. Knickknacks and keepsakes peeked out of half-packed boxes. Yikes. Sophie was right, though. This mess would still be here when she got home. Unfortunately. Since no one else would see it, what difference did it make?

Even though she'd showered only a couple hours earlier, she took another quick one, swiped on some mascara, and fought her hair into submission. Digging through the mess, she uncovered a pair of denim shorts and a favorite casual, short-sleeve linen shirt.

She moved to her open window. Texas at her finest. The day was made for being outside. A break would do her good.

Hands on her hips, Maggie took one last look at the disaster she'd created, powered off her stereo, and walked out the door.

Driving through Lone Tree, she stopped at Ollie's. Packed with the after-church group, it took her a good ten minutes to make it to the counter. Everyone wanted to talk about the wedding and ask if she'd heard from Pops and Dottie.

She slid onto a stool.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Ollie said. “How're you doing today?”

“Tired.”

“Bet you are. That was some party yesterday.”

“It was, wasn't it? I'm glad you and Judy could make it.”

“Me, too. That nephew of mine comes in handy once in a while. He did an okay job running the place yesterday.”

“You need to use him more often. Give you and Judy some time for yourselves.”

Ollie nodded and wiped a hand on his apron. “I've been thinking about that. We've been busy, and I've been toying with the idea of hiring more help. Lots of folks coming into Lone Tree to visit the new fashion darling's shop.” He winked. “They get hungry and stop in here. Judy and I can barely keep up. You've been good for the whole town, Maggie.”

“I hope so.”

“Oh, believe me, you have.” Hands on his hips, he asked, “What can I do for you today?”

“Do you have an extra lemon meringue pie I can talk you out of? Maybe a dozen chocolate chips to go with it?”

“For you? You bet. Give me a minute.” He headed to the walk-in cooler. Halfway there, one of the guys at the counter asked for a coffee refill. “Keep your britches on,” he growled. “Can't you see I'm busy?”

Maggie shook her head. Oh, yeah. She'd miss this.

Armed with her goodies, she walked back to her car, a smile on her face. The grass was turning green, bluebonnets bobbed their heads along the side of the road, and the sun was shining.

Maggie put all four windows down. So it would wreck her hair. Who cared? She turned up the country-western station on her radio and let the weight slip from her shoulders as the breeze wafted over her. It wouldn't be long till they'd be sweltering in hundred-and-five-degree temperatures. In the shade.

No. She wouldn't be here. She'd be in the city. Back East.

When her shoulders tightened, she consciously relaxed them. Today, she'd spend some time with Sophie and her newly acquired sons. They could gossip their hearts out. They could talk about nothing. They could sit quietly in the sun and simply be.

Maggie started down the lane to Ty and Sophie's, then hit the brakes. Oh, those best laid plans. Brawley's black Tahoe sat in the drive. She couldn't face him today. Not after last night. Her armor wasn't in place.

Should she turn around and go home? Eat herself into a lemon meringue stupor?

Too late. She'd been spotted. Jesse hopped up and down in the front yard, and Jonah waved.

She waved back, dread crawling up her throat.

Josh ran into the house and, by the time she'd stopped her car, reappeared with Sophie in tow.

Maggie opened the car door and got out. “Here you go, guys.” She handed Jesse the bag of cookies. “You can't eat any till after lunch, though.”

“Okay,” Jonah said.

“What are they?” Jesse opened the bag and peered in.

Josh stuck his head closer. “I wanna see, too. Sophie, he won't let me see.”

“Show him what's in there, Jesse.” Sophie brushed a hand over her sleek blond hair. “Why don't you take the bag inside and set it on the table?”

“'Kay.” The three took off at a run, Jesse clutching the bag of goodies.

“I see you have company.” Maggie tipped her head toward Brawley's vehicle.

“Ty didn't know what to do about that sick cow, so he decided to bring in the big guns. I didn't plan this,” Sophie insisted. “I had no idea he'd called Brawley when I phoned you. Honest.”

Maggie said nothing.

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “What's going on? You're white as a sheet.”

“It's a long story.”

“And I've got plenty of time.”

Maggie shrugged.

“What happened?” Sophie prodded. “I know you left with him last night, and I've got to say I was shocked. Your dad said—”

The boys came tearing out of the house, screaming like banshees. “Can we play till lunch is ready?”

“Stay close. When I call, I expect you all to come immediately and wash up. No whining.”

“'Kay,” Jonah said.

The other two agreed, and they were off, their now half-grown pup Trouble at their heels.

“I lost my mind,” Maggie said.

Sophie's eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“I came this close to sleeping with Brawley.” Maggie held up her thumb and forefinger, only a millimeter between them. Her lips felt stiff.

“What?” Sophie dropped onto one of the Adirondack chairs in the yard.

Maggie joined her in another. Though she hadn't intended to, she found herself confessing last night's transgressions. “We got carried away. One thing led to another, and, well, I almost caved.”

“Whew.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should have.”

“Really?”

Maggie shook her head. “No.”

“But it was good?” Sophie asked.

“It's always mind-blowing with him.”

“I can—”

Sophie broke off when Jesse started screaming.

“Snake! Snake!” He ran toward the barn, while the other two stood rooted to the ground.

Sophie and Maggie both ran toward them. Ty and Brawley shot out of the barn.

The boys were in tears and nearly hysterical.

“Stay back,” Ty shouted. “Boys, go to Sophie.”

“But, Daddy,” Jonah sobbed. “Trouble got hurted.”

“I know, son. Go to Sophie,” he repeated.

They did.

Brawley dashed back into the barn and grabbed a shovel. He started across the field, while Ty called Trouble to him.

“What's he doing?” Sophie, eyes wide, clutched the boys to her, shushing them.

“You might want to take the boys into the house.”

“Why?”

Brawley raised the shovel, brought it down once, twice.

Maggie and Sophie winced, and the boys cried harder.

“Rattler,” Brawley said, striding toward them. “Did it bite any of you?” He knelt in front of the boys.

They shook their heads, tears streaming.

“It was gonna bite Jesse,” Josh said. “But Trouble growled and bit it. Then he cried 'cause the bad snake bit him back.”

“Is he gonna die?” Jonah's lip trembled.

Maggie watched the overgrown pup, which had made his way to the boys and was now licking their hands. The boys wrapped their arms around him.

Ty met Sophie's eyes. Voice husky, he said, “This big, overgrown idiot of a pup saved Jesse's life.”

She nodded and swallowed. “Is there anything we can do?”

Maggie looked at Brawley. “Can you help him?”

“Yeah, I can take care of this mangy pup. He's gonna be fine.” His voice was gruff. “Sophie, Maggie, why don't you take the boys inside? Feed them lunch. Everything's gonna be fine, but this isn't something they need to see.”

Sophie nodded.

Before they left, though, the boys surrounded Brawley, hugging his legs.