Just Married...Again (17 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Hughes

BOOK: Just Married...Again
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With him still grasping her, she turned, and it was all she could do to keep from bursting into laughter. This was how every single argument they ever had ended, with Michael pulling his shenanigans and her falling into fits of giggles. They usually ended up in bed, still laughing over it.

“Michael, stop it this instant,” she said. “You’re a grown man and a respected attorney, you can’t keep acting like this. Besides, you’re supposed to be preparing for this catastrophic snowstorm, remember?”

“I’m not even good enough for you to wipe your feet on. But go ahead anyway.” He fell to the floor on his stomach, trying to spread himself out so she could do as much walking and wiping her feet as she liked. He stacked one fist on top of the other and propped his chin. “Go for it, Maddy.”

“You are certifiably crazy, you know that?” she said, standing on his broad back. “Okay, Michael, I’m wiping my feet on you. Do you feel better now?” She glanced up and found Danny standing a few feet away, wearing the same look he had the night she’d hit his uncle over the head with the poker and slammed the door.

“Uncle Michael! What’s she doing to you?”

“Huh?” Michael turned his head. “She’s … uh … well, it’s hard to explain, kiddo.”

Maddy wondered if they’d managed to warp the kid’s mind for life in just a few days. “The ol’ skipper threw his back out, honey,” she said. “Good thing I know how to fix these problems.”

“Is it serious?”

She looked thoughtful. “Hard to say without a rectal thermometer, but after a quick examination, I’d venture to say your uncle is suffering from spondylosis.”

“What causes it?” Danny asked.

“Old age, honey. Your uncle is over the hill, so to speak.”

Michael turned his head so that he could see her. “Very funny, Maddy. And we both know you don’t need a rectal thermometer to diagnose back trouble.”

She smiled sweetly. “No, that’s just something extra I like to do for my patients.”

“Is he going to have to lie there like that?” Danny asked.

“Oh, no. The only chance for a cure is heavy exercise. And he’ll have to sleep on a board. Preferably one with nails in it.”

“Maddy, would you please get off my back now,” Michael mumbled.

“Ah, the coffee is finally ready,” she said, stepping off and making her way to the coffee maker. “Would you like a cup, Mike?”

His smile was brittle. “I think I’ll fix it myself. Then perhaps we can get back to the business of discussing my emergency-preparedness plan.”

Rambo and Muffin began barking from the bedroom, obviously missing their playmate. Danny started in that direction.

“They have to use their litter box first,” Maddy said.

“I’ll take it back there,” Danny offered, already going into the utility room. When Maddy started to protest, he interrupted. “I know how to do it, I’ve watched you. Don’t worry, I won’t throw up.”

“Well, that’s certainly comforting,” she said. Once she was situated at the counter with her coffee, she glanced at the food lists. “You need to give me the job of rationing food and preparing the meals,” she said. “I’ll be able to stretch the food while seeing that it meets our nutritional needs.”

“Fine. Danny and I have enough to keep us busy.” When she began rolling up her sleeves to get to work, he stopped her. “First things first, though. We have to bring in the wood from the shed so it can start drying.”

“Okay. I’ll finish this inventory while you guys do that.”

“Sorry, Maddy. We need every available hand we can get.”

“There are only two pairs of wading boots,” she pointed out.

“I noticed you had a pair of boots with you when I unloaded your car.”

She gave a snort. “And you expect me to wear those to lug wood back and forth in the snow. I don’t think so. They’re genuine crocodile boots from the Congo basin in Zaire, Africa, where my parents recently traveled to see old friends. They paid a king’s ransom for them. They’re lined with lamb’s wool, and if they get wet, they’ll be ruined. I refuse to destroy a perfectly fine pair of boots in this snow.” She sighed. “Oh, God!”

“What?” Michael looked startled.

“I sounded just like my mother.”

Twenty minutes later everybody was suited up. “Hey, nice boots, Aunt Maddy,” Danny said. “My sister has a pair just like ’em.”

“I seriously doubt—”

“Hers are lined with lamb’s wool. Are yours?” When Maddy ignored him, he went on. “And right inside there’s a stamp that says ‘Made in Africa.’”

Maddy could feel Michael watching her, but she refused to meet his gaze.

“What do you have on under your clothes?” Michael asked her.

“I beg your pardon?” Maddy said, taken aback by the personal nature of the question.

“We’ve got a twenty-degree-below wind chill factor out there, and the wind is whipping through like a typhoon. I want to make sure everybody is warm enough. It’s better if you layer your clothing.”

“I’ve got on two of everything,” Danny volunteered. Both man and boy looked at her, as though sizing her up. “I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself warmly,” she said. They started for the door. “Uh, Mike, ol’ buddy?” she called out.

He turned and offered her an easy smile, determined not to let her see how this friendship thing was grating on his nerves. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t tell us what you were wearing under
your
clothes.”

“That’s the luxury of being in charge, missy. I don’t have to answer to anybody.”

“On the contrary, our survival depends on your survival. You’ve put yourself in charge because you felt you were more qualified. I, for one, have not seen anything to indicate as much, and since I wasn’t permitted to vote, I think I have every right to question whether or not you’re taking necessary precautions to stay healthy. And please don’t call me missy, unless you want me to call you by some of the cute little pet names I’ve given you over the years when you were feeling amorous.”

Danny looked at his uncle. “What did she say?”

Michael’s gaze locked with hers, but he could feel the heat creeping up his neck and spreading across his cheeks at the thought of his nephew learning the names he’d earned in the bedroom. The woman had no shame. “You want to know if I’m prepared?” he demanded. He closed the distance between them and met her gaze. There was a feral quality to his look. “If you’ll step in the next room, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you,” he said silkily. “But I’ll expect the same courtesy.”

“Are you guys fighting again?” Danny asked in a bored voice.

Maddy could tell by Michael’s tone that she was treading on dangerous ground, and she didn’t want to give her nephew yet another sideshow. “Never mind,” she said.

“May we proceed?” he asked.

Maddy followed Michael outside, and the wind almost slapped her to the ground. She saw that Danny was having trouble standing, as well. With Michael leading the way, they staggered toward the woodshed. Maddy’s eyes watered from the cold, and her ears ached. She wondered if their caps and gloves offered enough protection. The cold seemed to knife through her jacket and jeans, despite the thermal underwear and sweatshirts she wore beneath them. Her fancy crocodile boots were slippery in the snow and much too tight with two layers of socks, but she knew it would have to do.

The shed was in shambles, worse than when Maddy had first arrived, and the firewood was buried beneath an avalanche of snow and rotted wood. Working as quickly as they could, they spent several hours pulling away pieces of the collapsed roof, so they could get to the firewood below.

It was slow, agonizing labor, and Michael insisted they go inside every fifteen minutes to warm up, and to dry their mismatched gloves at the fireplace. They lunched on canned soup and grilled-cheese sandwiches and went back to work.

As the afternoon wore on, Danny began to complain, and at one point he became so belligerent, Maddy asked Michael to send him in. But he refused to coddle Danny, even when the boy seemed to be deliberately dragging his feet. Maddy tried with all her might to remain upbeat, but she knew she couldn’t take much more.

“Okay, I’ll finish up out here,” Michael said. “You two go inside and get warm.” When Maddy started to object, he waved her off. “I won’t be long, go on.”

The wind seemed to have picked up. As Maddy and Danny made their way toward the front door of the cabin, she had to hold on to him to prevent him from stumbling. At least he’d stopped complaining.

Inside, she tore off her hat and gloves and helped Danny do the same. “I know you’re exhausted, honey,” she said, once they were out of their coats. “But you have to get out of these wet things.” She helped him off with his wading boots and sneakers and pulled his socks off. She’d handed him dry clothes from in front of the fireplace and told him to put them on. He nodded.

“Would you like to go ahead and get your bath first?” she asked, noting the boy could barely hold his eyes open.

“After I rest.”

“Don’t forget to put your wet things in front of the fire,” she reminded him. “Once I clean up, I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate.” She hurried down the hall.

Maddy wasted no time running a bath. The old claw-foot tub and pedestal sink would have been pretty, if she’d hired someone to re-glaze them as she originally planned. As it was, they were chipped and discolored but still serviceable. She loved the deep tub, and as she filled it with water she added her favorite lavender-scented bath salts.

Maddy sighed her immense pleasure as she lowered herself into the tub, letting her poor tired muscles and quivering flesh absorb the heat from the water. She leaned back and closed her eyes. A good soaking would go a long way toward lifting her mood and lowering her anxiety level. At least she hoped so. There was nothing quite as stressful as being trapped under the same roof as your soon-to-be ex-husband, especially when you were still in love with him.

What made it so much worse was the crazy way Michael was acting. How could he make mad, passionate love one minute, insist on a platonic relationship the next, then treat her as if she were in boot camp? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing it all to confuse her. He was succeeding very nicely.

Maddy had been in the water fewer than ten minutes when Michael banged on the door.

“Time to clear out, Maddy,” he said. “Danny and I need to grab a shower while there’s still hot water.”

“I’ll be out shortly,” she said, not giving it a second thought.

“This is no time for prissing around,” he told her. “The rest of us need to clean up, too.”

She glared at the closed door. The man was really beginning to annoy her and test the limits of their so-called friendship. “I just got in here, for Pete’s sake! I refuse to let an entire tub of hot water go to waste.”

“You’ve got five minutes.”

Maddy gritted her teeth. Just who the hell did he think he was, telling
her,
a grown woman, how much time she could spend in the bathtub? It was absurd, especially since Danny was sound asleep and had no desire to bathe at the moment.

He was doing it for spite. Had he been nice and asked her in a polite tone of voice instead of using his drill-sergeant routine, she might have reconsidered, but he could go jump in a frozen pond for all she cared. She’d sit there till next spring if she liked.

Michael was back in five minutes. “Maddy, get the hell out of the tub now! Something’s wrong with Danny.”

Chapter Twelve

Wearing only her panties and bathrobe, Maddy leaned over her shivering nephew and tried to get a response from him. “Danny, can you hear me?” He mumbled something incoherent, and then drifted off. She began taking his pulse.

Michael paced nearby. “I got worried when I couldn’t get him to wake up,” he said. “Why is he still in his wet clothes?”

“I gave him dry clothes to put on,” she told him, “but I couldn’t very well stand there and
watch
to make sure he changed.”

“I’m not blaming you, Maddy. I’m just worried. He looks very sick.”

“His pulse is too slow,” she said. “He’s got hypothermia, Michael. I don’t know how severe it is.” Her eyes watered. “I should have suspected something by the way he was acting. He staggered in like a drunk. Please help me get him out of these clothes. First, let me plug that electric heater in. We need all the heat we can get.” She dragged it to the nearest outlet and turned it on high.

Working as fast as he could, he pulled off Danny’s jeans and the sweats he wore beneath them. The boy didn’t even try to protest, but his teeth chattered nonstop. Michael finished undressing him and turned to Maddy, who stood as close to the fire as she dared, frantically warming towels and T-shirts, and the sweats Danny normally slept in, in front of the fire. She tossed Michael a towel, and he dried the boy while she dragged two ladder-back stools from the kitchen and placed them near the fire. She draped a blanket over them to absorb the heat.

“Why don’t we just set him in a tub of hot water?” Michael asked.

“That could make things worse.” Together, she and Michael dressed the boy in thermal underwear and sweats, plus a pair of Michael’s socks that had been lying on the hearth for some time. “See if those towels are warm enough,” she said.

Michael nodded and handed them to her.

“Okay, you’re going to have to lift him so I can place the towels beneath him.” He did as he was told. Once Maddy had them in place, Michael lowered the boy gently. She grabbed another towel from the hearth and wrapped it around his head and neck like a turban.

“What’s that for?” Michael asked.

“To hold in the body heat.” Next, she covered the boy completely with the blanket, tucking it all around him.

“He’s still shivering.”

“That’s okay. I’d be more concerned if he suddenly stopped.” She looked at Michael. “I didn’t like the way his fingers and toes looked. Did you notice?”

“They were awfully white.”

“It might be frostbite.”

“Oh, that’s just dandy. My brother’s going to appreciate the way I took care of his kid.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Besides, we can’t worry about that now,” she said. “There’s too much to do.”

“What do you want me to do?”

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