Maggie (Tales Behind the Veils)

by Violet Howe

  Maggie

  VIOLET HOWE

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, events, and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  www.violethowe.com

  Cover Design: Robin Ludwig Design, Inc.

  www.gobookcoverdesign.com

  Published by Charbar Productions, LLC

  (e-v2)

  Copyright © 2017 Violet Howe/LM Howe/Charbar Productions, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 0-9964968-9-0

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9964968-9-6

  For Jenn

  Through thick and thin, no matter how many changes we go through, or how many different roles we play in life, or how many times you flip that house around,

  one things remains constant…our love and support for one another.

  You are truly my forever friend, and I am so thankful for you.

  I love you.

  Books by Violet Howe

  Tales Behind the Veils

  Diary of a Single Wedding Planner

  Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love

  Diary of an Engaged Wedding Planner

  Maggie

  The Cedar Creek Series

  The Ghost in the Curve

  Short Story Anthology - Contributor

  Pieces of the Heart

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Jennifer – Thank you for your insight and your mad editing skills. This book would not be the same without your unique perspective and your input. Can’t wait for our next cup of tea! (Or chicken.)

  Alberto – I cannot thank you enough for sharing your knowledge and your time with me. I have thoroughly enjoyed our talks, and I’m sad that the book is done and we won’t need to meet up anymore. Thank you for patience, your generosity, and your inspiration for an awesome character.

  Bonnie – who is forever represented by Sandy, and to Sandy, who is also forever represented by Sandy. I can’t thank the two of you enough for continuing on this journey with me. You know you’re loved, and hopefully you know you’re appreciated, too!

  Teresa – You came through again with flying colors! I appreciate your input and your time. So happy that I inherited you when I joined this family!

  Lisa, Donna, and Melissa – Thanks again for your time in making sure all my T’s are crossed and all my I’s are dotted. I appreciate you all!

  Casey – Thanks for checking the language and helping me out with the horse stuff. I’m gonna keep you on speed dial for future novels!

  Linda & Greg – Thank you for letting me tag along at the sale and thanks for answering so many random questions and out-of-the-blue texts.

  Orlando Ballet – Thank you for connecting me with the amazing Alberto Blanco. Your generosity and kindness in helping a local author do research was much appreciated.

  1 SILVER CREEK RANCH

  The first time I made eye contact with Gerry Tucker, I broke my big toe.

  I stared into his eyes, my vision blurred by the searing, white-hot pain surging up through my body. My teeth clamped together so hard my jaw hurt for days. Nothing compared to my toe, of course, but still.

  Gerry liked to tell people it was the result of our immediate connection. Electric. Powerful. Overwhelming.

  The reality was the toe had been broken twice before. A pretty common occupational hazard for a ballet dancer.

  The toe was weak. Vulnerable.

  So was my heart, back then. Thirty years ago.

  A lifetime, it seems now. A lifetime rich and overflowing with love.

  The love of family. Of friends. Of two beautiful children who have taught me that love is infinite and knows no bounds.

  I’m grateful for having known such tremendous love.

  But love does not always soar. It can take you to the depths of hell as well.

  I’ve only fallen in love twice in my life.

  The first time broke my toe and left my heart shattered in a million jagged pieces beyond repair.

  Which is why there hadn’t been a second time…until Dax.

  I should have been immune. I had built a wall so impenetrable that I thought I was safe.

  Protected. Unable to fall victim to love’s intoxicating spells.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  My heart betrayed me.

  I tried to brush it off at first. I tried to say it was simply a physical attraction.

  After all, no one could dispute that Dax Pearson is easy on the eyes. I think he would quicken a pulse in a corpse.

  And I’m certainly no corpse. I may have put a wall around my heart, but that didn’t stop it beating. He did, though. No, really. As clichéd as it may sound, my heart literally skipped a beat when I saw him.

  I had walked to the large windows that lined the back of the great room in the reception hall. The view outside was serene. Peaceful. The hall had been built on the east side of the ranch overlooking the large lake in the middle of the massive property.

  A wide swath of clear heavy-duty glass meandered through the wooden floor, allowing guests to follow the path of the bubbling stream that flowed beneath the house and through the expansive lawn before feeding into the lake. The unique feature was highlighted in the brochure and proved even more impressive in person.

  It surprised me that my daughter would be interested in such a rustic location for her wedding. Galen was a city girl born and bred, happiest in a high rise overlooking a concrete landscape or navigating the hectic throng of a Friday night downtown. Orlando and Miami had both proved too small to contain her big city dreams, but she and Tate had decided to have their wedding back home in Central Florida rather than ask both their families to travel to their new home in Manhattan.

  I’m sure part of that reasoning was also to make it easier for her to pass off the bulk of wedding planning to me. Well, me and Tyler. While I’d coordinated plenty of large events in my role at the Performing Arts Center, I’d never organized a wedding before, so having a professional wedding planner for a daughter-in-law was a godsend. Tyler and Galen may have had their differences in the past, but luckily, they’d worked through them, and Tyler was all too happy to help me plan her sister-in-law’s big day.

  A blur of movement caught my eye as I gazed out the window, and it brought my attention back to the lawn. A horse and rider galloped full speed across the grass. The horse was headed straight toward the stream at its widest point right before it reached the lake, and it was obvious from the rider’s stance and his grip on the reins that he was trying to halt the animal’s progress to no avail.

  The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and his long coat flew out behind him like a cape as he struggled to gain control of the animal. I was shocked to realize he sat astride the large beast bareback with no saddle in sight.

  My heart beat faster and louder as they neared the water’s edge, and then suddenly, the horse leapt. Its body stretched long and lean as it soared over the stream, and the rider bent low, molding his own body to the horse’s as he held tight to its neck.

  I gasped, and my heart skipped a beat.

  It was an odd sensation, one I still find hard to describe. It was like something moved in my chest. Something rolled or turned. It took my breath for the briefest of moments, and then suddenly there was a rush of pressure and the beat resumed, loudly and even more forcefully than before.

  It might have frightened
me if I hadn’t been so fixated on the horse, who was still galloping toward the lake despite the rider leaning back and pulling the reins tight. The two plunged into the water, and the horse stopped abruptly.

  The rider didn’t. He flew over the animal’s head and landed in the lake with a grand splash.

  I flung open the French doors closest to me and gasped as the brisk cold of the February morning hit me, but I kept heading across the lawn toward the rider. I’m not sure what I thought I was going to do in terms of a rescue, but my instinct was to get to him quickly and make sure he was okay. The damp grass made it almost impossible to run in my stiletto-heeled boots, but luckily, there were three men charging toward the lake, easily outrunning me in their cowboy boots and heavy coats.

  “Maggie! What are you doing?”

  I slowed and looked back at Tyler, whose bewildered expression mirrored Bronwyn’s, the ranch’s wedding coordinator, as they stood in the open doorway. I pointed toward the water as I ran, and they both joined me when they saw the reason for my abrupt departure.

  The cold, damp air rolling in off the lake seeped through my cashmere sweater, and I wished I had grabbed my coat from the rack in the foyer.

  By the time I reached the sandy shore, one of the men had gathered the horse’s reins and led it from the lake. He stood eyeing the animal with a wary expression, although it seemed to have calmed down once it was rid of its rider.

  The other two men were waiting at the water’s edge as the rider stood with his back to us and shrugged out of his wet coat.

  “You alright, boss?”

  “Yeah,” the rider growled. “Damned beast would have to send me swimming on the coldest damned day of the year.”

  I shivered as another breeze rolled in, and I couldn’t imagine how cold he must be in wet clothes.

  No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than he tossed the coat to shore and pulled his shirt over his head as he waded out of the water.

  My breath caught in my throat. He was much leaner than he had appeared in the heavy coat, but he was solid. As he peeled the wet fabric of his undershirt from his skin, I couldn’t help but stare at the taut muscles rippling across his chest and abs. A rush of warmth surged forth from deep within me, and suddenly, the air around me didn’t seem as cold as before.

  Bronwyn’s voice rang out behind me just as he tugged at his belt buckle to begin shedding his pants.

  “Uncle Dax!” she yelled as she and Tyler joined me on the sand. “What happened? Are you alright?”

  He looked up, and judging by his raised eyebrows and widened eyes, he hadn’t expected an audience. Glancing down at his bare chest and stomach, he refastened his belt before meeting his niece’s gaze.

  “I’m fine, Bronwyn. Taking a little polar bear swim in the lake this morning. Sorry if I disturbed you, ladies.”

  His gaze shifted from Bronwyn to Tyler as he nodded to each in acknowledgment, and then he looked at me.

  I’d never been a woman whose head was easily turned. That’s not to say I didn’t appreciate the masculine form. You can’t be born a dancer and not admire the magnificent lines and sculpted curves of the human body. But I’d never been one to do a double-take on a sidewalk or go starry-eyed over a handsome face.

  I’ll be the first to admit it had been quite some time since I’d stood before any half-clothed man, much less one who seemed to be the epitome of perfection.

  Maybe it was the cold air making me shiver. Maybe it was the beads of water dripping from the tips of his hair where it hung across his forehead and brushed the tops of his ears. Or it could have been seeing the gooseflesh prickling across his bare, muscular chest as his nipples stood taut against the cold.

  I’m sure that was it.

  It couldn’t have been the square jawline that looked like it had been carved from stone. It couldn’t have been the deep green velvet of his eyes or the laughter lines that crinkled at the corners. Surely, it wasn’t the rugged masculinity or the confident stance that no man should be able to pull off standing there soaking wet after being thrown head first off a horse.

  It certainly wasn’t the way he smiled at me, one eyebrow raising ever so slightly as I held his gaze, the corners of his mouth lifting as his grin slowly spread, deepening the creases around his eyes.

  No. It was the cold weather that made me shiver. Definitely.

  2 THE COWBOY CLEANS UP WELL

  “Pardon me for interrupting your visit,” he said as he nodded in my direction. “You look chilled. Why don’t you ladies head on back inside where it’s warm? I think the show’s over for now.”

  “What happened, Uncle Dax?” Bronwyn asked again.

  “Kratos and I were trying to decide who was going to be boss. Evidently, it’s still up for discussion.”

  The young woman’s hand flew to her throat as she gasped. “You were riding Kratos? Are you nuts?”

  “I would think you already know the answer to that one,” said the older gentleman standing behind Dax, holding the still-dripping coat away from his side.

  “I didn’t buy him so he could ride me,” Dax said, wringing out his shirts as he walked to the horse and took the reins.

  The three men followed Dax and the horse as they made their way across the lawn. Tyler and I turned to follow Bronwyn back to the reception hall.

  “I take it Kratos has never been ridden?” Tyler asked.

  Bronwyn laughed. “Hardly. That horse is a demon from hell. They should have put him down, but my uncle insisted on rescuing him. Why, I do not know! He’s gonna get himself killed.”

  “Does your uncle own this ranch?” I asked, assuring myself that it was only to make small talk and that I really didn’t care who he was or what he owned. I stole a glance at his broad back as he walked in the other direction, but I quickly looked away when I realized he had turned as well.

  “Yes, he does,” said Bronwyn. “He doesn’t really have anything to do with the events, though. He’s more involved with the horses and the cattle. He stays away from weddings like they were the plague.” She laughed as she held the door open for us.

  I sighed as the warmth of the great hall settled over me, but then a shudder flitted across my skin again. Confirmation that it had simply been the cold before and had nothing to do with the half-naked cowboy who’d been dripping in front of me.

  “Come over here to the fireplace. You’ll be toasty warm in no time,” Bronwyn said as she led us to an enormous stone hearth on the other side of the room. “We don’t get to use it much, being in Florida and all, but it’s sure nice to have it when we need it. It gives a nice ambience for a wedding, you know, if it’s cold out. Now, when was your daughter planning, again?”

  “August,” I said, stretching my fingers wide in front of the fire. Tyler thrust hers out beside mine, and I couldn’t help but notice the difference. They say the hands are one of the easiest ways to tell a woman’s age. I rubbed mine together briskly, reminding myself to appreciate all those hands had done for me rather than concentrate on a few dark spots that had appeared in the last couple of years.

  “Oh, well, you certainly won’t need the fireplace then! That’s a hot month for a Florida wedding. Was she planning on an outside ceremony?” Bronwyn said, her grimace clearly conveying her distaste for the idea, though she recovered quickly with a big smile.

  “Believe me, I know August is hot for weddings,” Tyler answered. “But we’re working around the bride’s schedule, and the dance company she belongs to runs their season from September to June. If she’s going to have time down here before the wedding, we’re looking at August. And yes, ideally, she’d like the ceremony on the lawn by the lake close to sunset, like the pictures you have there in the foyer. Then the reception here in the great hall. What’s your maximum capacity?”

  I tried to listen as they discussed guest counts, and round tables versus rectangular ones, but I was distracted. My mind kept replaying the horse and its rider leaping over the stream and then Dax flying t
hrough the air and into the lake. My thoughts lingered on the perfect curve of his bottom lip as he’d grinned and the sculpted perfection of his back as he’d flexed to reach for the horse’s reins before they walked away. I could still see the thick bulge of a bicep as he raised his hand to lay it gently on the animal’s neck, sharing a whisper that only he and Kratos could hear.

  Bronwyn was thorough as we continued our tour of the house, and Tyler was dutifully attentive throughout, asking all the pertinent questions and securing the details needed for Galen and Tate to make their decision. I wandered along behind them in somewhat of a fog, genuinely interested in what they were discussing, but unable to keep my thoughts from drifting.

  “Maggie?”

  Tyler and Bronwyn were staring at me.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  Tyler’s mouth twitched with a grin as she cocked her head to one side. “Bronwyn asked if you think Galen and Tate will want to spend the night here in the bridal suite upstairs, or will they be leaving right away for a trip?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. We haven’t really discussed their plans after the wedding.”

  Bronwyn nodded. “No problem! I’ll go ahead and show you the bridal suite, and then you can always let me know later.”

  She unlocked a door and led us up the staircase behind it. Tyler let out a whistle of appreciation as we topped the stairs into a large open room with a vaulted ceiling criss-crossed with wooden beams. The back wall of sliding glass doors opened onto a deck overlooking the lake. There was a fireplace in one corner of the room, an overstuffed chaise lounge in another, and an enormous bed that looked even larger than king-sized, set against the front wall and facing the lake.

  “This is gorgeous! I want to stay here,” Tyler said. “Can I book this?”