The house was quiet. Travis wasn’t in the living room or kitchen where she had left her phone. It was just a matter of grabbing it off the kitchen counter and getting outside before he detected her presence. After their last argument in the hospital, she’d resolved that the only way this thing could work would be to avoid him as much as possible. It wouldn’t be fair to Carly if they were constantly at each other’s throats. It was best they steered clear of one another.
After dropping the phone in her purse, she clicked off the overhead light and turned the corner into the living room. Her toe rammed into something hard and unmoving. It was Travis’s wheelchair.
“Whoa there.”
And Travis was in it.
“What’s your hurry?”
She stumbled back, pain hammering in her big toe. “Jeez,” she whined, limping over to a kitchen chair. “Where did you come from?” She fell into the chair and pulled her foot into her lap, rubbing her big toe through her sneaker.
“I heard someone come in. Thought I better check it out.”
Travis wore a blue plaid robe over a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants. A baseball bat lay across his lap.
“What were you planning to do with that?” She pointed, still rubbing her foot.
“Protect the homestead.”
She burst out laughing. “In a wheelchair?”
“I played baseball in high school, remember? Had a pretty good swing.”
“But you’re in a wheelchair.” She dropped her foot to the floor and folded in half, forgetting the pain.
“Why are you laughing? It doesn’t matter about the wheelchair. I could’ve busted somebody good with this thing.”
“And ripped out your stitches or reinjured your ribs.” She reached out and took the bat from him. “You don’t have to guard the house. We’re perfectly safe here. We’ve never had a break-in.”
“Announce yourself next time and I won’t have to grab the bat.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I’ve been awake since before you left this morning.”
He’d been sound asleep when she peeked into his room. Flat on his back with his eyes closed tight. Had he been faking to avoid her, too?
“Well, okay.” The pain in her toe had dulled to a mild throbbing. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Where are you going?”
“I open up today.” She glanced at the wall clock. “In fact, I’m going to be late if I don’t get moving.” Draping her purse strap over her shoulder, she grabbed her keys off the table and headed toward the door.
Travis hooked her wrist as she passed. “Wait a second. I want to . . .”
“What?”
“. . . say something.” His fingers wandered lower and wrapped around her hand. “I, uh, just want to say.” He cleared his throat, tipping his face toward his lap. “I’m sorry about the other day at the hospital.”
“Oh . . . no worries.”
“Seriously.” He looked up and locked his eyes on hers. There was a deep crease between his brows, and his face was ghostly white. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I didn’t mean it.”
Maggie was stunned to silence.
“I mean, I meant what I said, just not the way I said it.” His hand squeezed hers tighter. “I’ll stay out of your way. Let you and Buddy have your privacy. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Travis, you don’t have to—”
“I appreciate you letting me come here. You didn’t have to do that. The least I can do is show some respect to your fiancé when he’s here.”
“He won’t be here much.”
“And I’ll help out where I can.” His gaze bore into hers as the color returned to his cheeks. “I promise not to be a burden.”
“Travis.” She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t seen this side of him in years—the kind, considerate, respectful side. He had the reputation of being the nicest guy in town, but not to her. His thumb brushed side-to-side over the back of her hand, and the wall she’d built up began to crumble.
“Carly said you had been at the hospital non-stop when they brought me in. I just want you to know how much I appreciate that.”
“You’re her father.”
“And you’re her mother—a good mother. No, a great mother. Not many women would run out on their wedding to tend to an ex.”
He had to stop. Stop being so nice. Stop rubbing his calloused thumb over the back of her hand. Stop being so damned handsome and sweet and perfect right now. She tore her gaze from him.
“That’s, um . . . nice of you to say.”
“It’s all true.”
Maggie stepped back, pulling her hand free of his and tucked it in her back pocket. She had to get out of here. This kind-hearted Travis was making her uncomfortable. She was off-balance and confused.
“Thanks.” Clearing her throat as she readjusted her purse, she glanced toward the door. “There’s food in the fridge. Carly should be home soon.”
She rushed past Travis, barely hearing his softly spoken “thanks,” and ran out the door. Her phone rang as soon as she put the car in reverse. It was Buddy. She tapped the button on her steering wheel as she backed out of the driveway.
“Hi, Buddy.”
“Hey, darlin’. Are you at work?”
“I’m headed there now. Running a little late. Where are you?”
“Had to go to Charleston this morning for a meeting, remember?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” It was a wonder she could remember how to drive, let alone recall Buddy’s schedule. Travis’s too-nice apology had left her frazzled.
“Darlin’, I hate to bring this up, but I have a little problem.”
“What is it?”
“Our honeymoon trip hit my credit card, and I’m in a bit of a bind.”
How could he be in a bind? He’d had over a thousand dollars in cash with him the night of their rehearsal dinner.
“Since the wedding was called off—”
“Postponed. Not called off.”
“I’ll have to pay another month’s rent and utilities. I wasn’t able to recoup any of the money for our trip since we cancelled at the last minute, and I’m a little short on funds right now. I won’t get my commission check until the end of the month.”
Maggie hated talking about finances. She had always been frugal—pinching pennies was ingrained in her. Buddy, on the other hand, didn’t have the same philosophy when it came to money. He seemed to always be in a bind. He had probably used the thousand dollars on the necklace he’d bought her.
“I’ll lend you some money. I told you I’d pay for half of the honeymoon.”
“No, darlin’, that’s my responsibility, but with the drop in gas prices and taking off a few days and the timing of my paycheck, things are a little tight right now. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“You always do.” This wasn’t the first time Buddy had been in a pinch. He wasn’t as careful with money as she was, but she would fix that once they were married. Taking care of their budget would be her responsibility.
“Thank you, darlin’.”
“Buddy, it’s okay. We’re getting married. My money is your money and vice versa.”
His sigh told her how hard it had been for him to ask. “Thank you, sweetheart. You’re the best.”
“It’s okay, but you shouldn’t have bought me those beautiful necklaces.”
“I like to spoil my girl.”
“Not if you’re having financial troubles.”
“I’m not really, it’s just that business slowed a bit in the spring.”
“You should’ve told me. How much do you need?”
“I hate asking.”
“Tell me.”
“A couple of hundred bucks? That will help with the credit card bill and utilities. I’ll take care of the rent.”
“Absolutely not. If I hadn’t run out on the wedding, we�
�d be married and living under the same roof. You wouldn’t have those expenses. I’ll deposit five hundred in your account later today.”
“You’re the best, you know that?” She heard the love in his voice “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“I know.”
“How lucky am I?”
“No, I’m the lucky one.”
Chapter 14
A week had passed, and everyone had settled into a routine. Carly had finished her finals, so she had a few free days until graduation. She was usually up by nine to fix Travis’s breakfast. The home health aide came mid-morning to help him bathe and dress. And Maggie made it a habit to be up and out the door before anyone roused. Most mornings, she went to the Brass Rail early to do some bookkeeping, or take inventory, or organize the liquor shelf. She didn’t want another sappy encounter with Travis like the day she’d forgotten her keys.
Bare feet slapping against the cool, wood floor, Maggie traipsed through the living room toward the kitchen, her eyes mere slits as she squinted at the early morning light streaming through the windows. The house was still and peaceful. She turned the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead when she found Travis sitting at the table. With his back to her, she glanced down at her baggy wrinkled T-shirt and faded yoga pants, and considered running back to her room to change. She hadn’t even run a brush through her hair.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He spun his wheelchair around to face her, smiling sweetly as he maneuvered toward the counter. “I made coffee. Want some?”
“I . . . uh . . . sure.”
“Still take it with cream and sugar?”
“Just cream.” She watched in a daze as he pulled himself up on his good leg and reached for a mug from the cabinet. He poured the coffee, topping it off with cream from an old pitcher she hadn’t used in years, and lowered back into the chair. Holding the mug in one hand, he wheeled himself back to her with the other. Maggie stayed planted in the same spot with her mouth hanging open. Who was this man and what had he done with the real Travis?
“Here you go. Want some toast?”
“Um . . . no, thanks.” She dropped into a chair, placing her elbows on the table and her face in her hands.
“Late night? I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Uh, yeah, I closed last night. Got home around two-thirty.”
“I don’t know how you keep those hours.”
Her head popped up, and she glared at him. It was the first time they had been alone since the day he had apologized, and it hadn’t taken him long to return to the old Travis who loved to fight. “It’s my job. It’s how I make a living and support our daughter.”
“And you’ve done a great job of it. Carly’s amazing, and I like what you’ve done with your house. You’ve got good taste.”
She glanced at him warily. “Thanks.”
“I remember when Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd lived here. They had let it go to pot, but you’ve really fixed it up. Doesn’t look like the same place.”
Maggie pushed her coffee mug away and folded her arms on the table. “What do you want, Travis?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you being so nice?”
“I’m just saying the house looks good. I’m impressed with what you’ve done with it, but then again, you always had great style.”
“Okay, fine, you want to pick a fight?” She stood up and grabbed her coffee cup. “I’m not in the mood this morning.”
“I’m not picking a fight.”
“The next thing you’re going to say is ‘how the hell did you pay for all this stuff?’ But I’m not taking the bait.”
“I’m not baiting you.”
“Yeah, right.” She stormed out of the kitchen, her heart racing as anger sizzled in her chest. Travis had switched tactics. Instead of throwing out his snarky one-liners, he was coming in with kindness just like last week. As soon as she dropped her guard, he’d hit her with a zinger. Well, she wasn’t going to give him the chance. No way was she going to sit there, waiting for him to insult her décor choices or how she spent her money or to throw out a comment about Buddy. He could sit alone in that kitchen and stew in his disappointment that she hadn’t stuck around to fight.
She slammed her bedroom door, stripped naked, and climbed into a raging hot shower. Scrubbing the washcloth over her skin like she’d been covered in grease, her breathing quick and shallow, Maggie struggled to understand what had just happened. He was nice to her last week when he apologized, and he’d made her coffee today. What was going on? The old Travis never had kind words for her. Maybe his brain had been rewired from the head injury. Could it be that he hadn’t tried to pick a fight this morning? Had she become so accustomed to their vicious banter that she couldn’t accept a sweet gesture from him? Something as simple as fixing her a cup of coffee had raised her hackles. Had Penny been right when she said she liked to argue with him?
Nope. No way. But she knew one thing for sure—Travis was obviously feeling better and able to get around on his own. For the remainder of his recuperation, they were stuck under the same roof and she didn’t want to argue with him. She would do her best to be nice until he was fully recovered. She would prove Penny wrong—their squabbles were not foreplay. That was a ridiculous notion. They fought because they didn’t get along. But Maggie would not fight with Travis, no matter what he threw at her, and she’d prove to everyone there was nothing more between them than shared parenting.
Later that day, with bright blue skies, a warm breeze, and the house all to herself, Maggie went out on her patio and spread a mountain of paperwork over the glass-top table. Brody had picked up Travis earlier for a doctor’s appointment, which gave her a few hours alone. She would rather catch a few rays and read a good book in this amazing weather but instead used the time to do something productive. At least she could pay bills, balance her personal checkbook, and review Carly’s scholarship package in the sun.
She still did things the old-school way by receiving bills and statements through the mail and filing the documents in a rickety cabinet handed down by her parents. It may be antiquated in today’s high-tech world, but it had always helped her keep a lid on spending. But she nearly blew her top when she ripped open the envelope and saw the balance on the pages-long credit card bill.
“Seven hundred and sixty-five dollars?” she bellowed to the trees. “What the—”
Her eyes scanned each entry, wracking her brain as to how it had happened that she’d exceeded her self-imposed three hundred dollar limit.
“This can’t be possible. How did I—”
“Hey, what’s going on out here?” Her head snapped up, and she found Travis standing in the side yard, leaning on crutches. “The front door was locked. I thought I heard you back here, so I came around.”
“You’re walking.”
“Yeah, just got these today.”
“But you were in a wheelchair this morning.”
“And now I’m not.”
“Where’s Brody?”
“On his way home.”
“That was a quick doctor’s appointment.” She jumped up to pull out a chair as he maneuvered toward the table. “You’re good on the crutches. Doesn’t it hurt your ribs?”
“Only every other second, but it’s okay.”
Once he was settled, she scurried around to her seat and pulled the scholarship information from the pile, handing it to him. “I was just about to do some paperwork, but it can wait. You should probably take a look at this. It’s Carly’s scholarships and the balance due to the university.”
“Okay.” Travis unfolded the papers from the envelope and quickly scanned the information. “Looks like she owes ten thousand by the end of July.”
“Yeah . . . about that.” She flipped the credit card bill over so that he wouldn’t see. The last thing she needed was to hear his comments about her spending habits. “I have a few bills that need paid, but I should be able to make my share by then.�
�
“Don’t worry about it. I got it.”
“Oh, no, we agreed we would share in her college costs. I’ll come up with five thousand dollars somehow.”
“If you don’t have it, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”
“And throw that in my face later? No way.”
He leaned back in his chair, keeping his smoky blue eyes narrowed on her. She knew he was thinking up a snarky comeback—something to rip a hole in her pride for not saving enough for Carly’s tuition. It wasn’t easy to raise a daughter alone, even with his generous child support.
“Mag, come on.”
“Don’t even start with me. I know I should’ve tightened my belt the last couple of years. I knew this day was coming. We promised Carly we would pay for college.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m only half owner of the bar. Not like you. You own your business outright so you get to keep all the profits.” She shoved away from the table, unable to take his steady gaze. “Penny and I did some remodeling at the bar so that ate up what would’ve come to me.” She shuffled through the bills on the table, her quivering hands making the papers rattle. “I’ve thought about selling Beautiful Blooms to Riley, but haven’t gotten around to it. The wedding kept me busy. And then you had your accident.”
He remained silent, staring up at her with a soft gaze. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t smirking. He actually looked concerned. What in the world was going on? His head injury must’ve joggled his brain cells. He should’ve said something mean by now.
“Do you need some money?”
That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say.
“No. I don’t want your money.”
“You seem a little stressed. I can take care of the tuition if it’s too much for you right now.”
“I’m always stressed.” She dropped the bills on the table, losing a few to the ground. “And you’re not helping.”
“What did I do?”
“You’re being too nice.” He chuckled as she shuffled the papers into a pile. “So I went a little overboard last month. My credit card bill is double—more than double—what it usually is.” She bent over and gathered the scattered sheets off the patio. “I’ll just have to make payments.”
Whatever Love Means Page 13