Maggie's Fork in the Road (Montana Bound Series Book 2)

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Maggie's Fork in the Road (Montana Bound Series Book 2) Page 7

by Bradley, Linda


  My phone rang almost immediately.

  Brook’s name flashed across the screen.

  I declined the call.

  Swaying in the moonlight, the creaking metal links that supported the porch swing hypnotized me. It’d been a long day back at work. I sipped my wine, gazed at the stars, and wondered what Chloe and John were doing. Bones nudged the screen door open with his pug nose. His mischievous expression taunted me.

  “Lie down,” I commanded.

  Bones sauntered to the edge of the steps, his stance that of a dog ready to bolt. He looked me square in the eye. His stocky shoulders hunched in protest.

  “Lie down,” I said louder.

  He stood frozen in time momentarily as if he were weighing his options. When I snapped my fingers at him, he plopped down and hung his head over the top stair.

  “Can I come up?” John said.

  “Sure,” I said. “Bones, stay put.”

  John stepped over Bones. “You’re getting better at that. He’s getting better, too.”

  “Yeah. I’m okay, you’re okay, everyone’s, oh screw it.”

  “Tough day?”

  “Yup,” I replied, trying not to stare. I crossed my legs and finished off my wine.

  “May I join you?” he asked.

  “Sure, whatever floats your boat, but I’m not very good company,” I told him.

  John’s green eyes twinkled in the evening light. My stomach flip-flopped. A shiver drifted down my spine. I set my wineglass beside me then zipped up my fleece. John stared at me.

  “What?” I asked. “Do I even want to know what?”

  “I’m not sure what you said to Brook.” John paused and held up his hand. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Maggie Abernathy, but Brook wants Chloe to come to Chicago to see her in the shoot.”

  The corner of my mouth curled up, and the muscles around my heart ached in a good way. It was the same kind of invigoration I felt when dewy mist collected on my cheeks while jogging when the sun came up.

  “What’s this about Brook inviting Chloe to Chicago? Is this for real or just one of her stunts?” I stopped, marveling at John’s expression. “Can I say that?” He didn’t seem disgusted.

  “You just did. Anyway, that’s not the kicker,” John added, rubbing his jaw.

  “What’s the kicker?” I asked.

  “You ready for this?” His words were slow and steady.

  “Probably not, but serve it up.”

  “Brook wants you to bring Chloe to see her.”

  John’s jeans hugged his thighs. I lowered my gaze. He leaned closer to me. “Seriously?” I asked. “You’re lying. You’re a mean man. That’s not even funny.” I said, trying to read his mind and protect myself from the power of his proximity.

  “This has your name written all over it, Maggie Abernathy.”

  All my attention went to his lips as he spoke.

  “What exactly did you say to her?” John fiddled with his keys.

  I shrugged, pretending not to remember. “I think our conversation ended with me telling her she was breaking her daughter’s heart. Are you mad?”

  John chuckled as he rubbed his jaw again. His eyes flickered in the moonlight.

  “Nope, but it’s a strange feeling when the woman I’m hung up on scolds my ex-wife. You’re pretty bold.”

  “I can’t help it, it’s what I do for a living.” John scooted closer to me then rubbed his foot against mine, igniting the inferno.

  I unzipped my fleece and noted his comment about being hung up on me, but that didn’t equate to saying, I love you. I wanted to know who wrote the rules for men.

  “You two are like oil and water, and you usually come out on top. I like that.”

  I stared into his green eyes pondering his secrets. He was hung up on me? The curl of his lip taunted me. “I don’t want to do anything to hurt Chloe.”

  “Why would you say that?” John asked, resting his arm on the back of the swing.

  John’s fingers brushed my shoulder.

  “I just don’t,” I said. “She doesn’t deserve more turmoil.”

  John faced me. I wanted to rest my head on his chest, but resisted the temptation. “I won’t say anything to Chloe until you decide if you want to go.”

  The thought of an impromptu trip to Chicago excited me, but the thought of hanging out with Brook made my insides knot. “She is nuts. What good could possibly come from this?”

  John shrugged. “Really, I don’t know. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but as you know, somehow, I think you’ll manage to pull something worthwhile from the experience. Chloe would love your company. Just think about it.”

  His hand touched my shoulder sending a shiver down my spine. “What did you say about the woman you’re hung up on?” I asked.

  “I think you know how I feel about you.”

  “I’m not really sure I do,” I said. “You’re still set on moving.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

  “This is too hard,” I said. “We probably shouldn’t go there.” A lump grew in my throat. I didn’t want anything to change. I wanted him to live next door with Chloe. I wanted things to remain the same. “I know you care,” I said, blinking back emotion. I wanted him to tell me he loved me back. That familiar pang surfaced. I hated myself for blurting out my feelings against my better judgment, but my impulsive nature got the best of me.

  “Maggie,” John said, “I love you, too.”

  My chest rose with the hitch in my breath. It was what every girl wanted to hear, but I wasn’t sure I was that girl anymore. I was a middle-aged woman trying to figure out the rest of her life. John’s hand covered mine. His tenderness flowed through me like a country stream trickling over century old pebbles that were once boulders. I wasn’t sure if his words or his touch impacted me more.

  “How? When?” I asked.

  Laugh lines emerged at the corners of his emerald eyes as a thin smile crossed his lips. He chuckled then shook his head. “Not exactly sure. All I know is that when I was in Montana with my dad, you were all I could think about.” John made a clicking sound with his mouth like a cowboy prodding his horse. He stared over his shoulder and pointed behind him, then put his pointer finger up to his lips.

  The flash of light in the bushes gave her away.

  John grinned wildly. “So you think I should punish Chloe more?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Maybe ground her for a few weeks, have her write sentences then have Glad make another list of chores.”

  “No,” Chloe cried out, darting up the stairs to the porch. “Haven’t you punished me enough? I picked up dog poop for hours.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I said as she plopped down on the top step next to Bones. “Obviously, he is on your side. He heard you coming and didn’t flinch a whisker.”

  Chloe smiled. “Good boy,” she said, scratching his head. “How did you know I was down there?”

  “I saw your light flicker.” John pointed to her metallic flashlight and leaned closer. “I also heard the latch close on the side door when you came out. What did I tell you about sneaking around, young lady?”

  Chloe swallowed hard. “Sorry, Maggie.”

  Relieved for John’s bionic hearing, our conversation could have resulted in chaos. I glanced over. John stared at me. His eyes glistened with intent. This was about to get even weirder, but Mom’s words popped into my head. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to choose a direction, commit to a path, and embrace the journey.

  Chapter 11

  “Maggie, you said it yourself. I’m not the only one capable of breaking my daughter’s heart.”

  I winced as Brook used my words against me. “No, I can’t.”

  “So what do you say? It will be fun. It won’t be career day, but Chloe can see what I really do. You could use a break, too, right?”

  I held the phone away from my ear. My little voice sputtered inside my head. Yeah, from you. I covered my face with t
he pillow and screamed. Bones cocked his head and wrinkled his brow when I threw it across the room. I heard Brook say my name.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “The television,” I sneered at Bones as he licked my shins with his pink tongue. I swatted at him to stop, but he hunkered down to nibble on my toes. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted. I’ll let you know later what I decide.” Deep down, I knew I was going. That familiar queasy feeling consumed me. I held my stomach and hoped like hell it would go away. John’s Harley purred in the distance. I went to the window, but couldn’t see him. How was it Chloe could clearly see me and I couldn’t see anything over there?

  I dropped the phone on the chair, slipped into my flip-flops, and marched next door. John cut the engine on his motorcycle when he saw me coming. “Hey, bet you can’t guess who called me.” I dug my hands into my pockets and made fists.

  “Uh-oh.” He folded up his bandana and stuck it into the back pocket of his jeans.

  I crossed my arms. “She used my own words against me. Told me I would be the one breaking Chloe’s heart. So not fair.” John’s smile flatlined. “What?” I asked, walking closer to him.

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  I questioned the look in his eyes as his expression went from happy to see me to serious.

  “There’s something about you being with Brook that makes me, well—”

  “And?” I prodded.

  “It’s weird.”

  “Yup, you’re right about that, but then again nothing in my life has been normal since Beckett told me he was gay.” I thought back to last summer when Brook pranced around at the beach in her bikini and cutoff shorts showing off her thin perfect, long legs. That twinge of jealousy gnawed at my raw edges.

  “You asked my mom to watch Chloe, for crying out loud. We haven’t talked since the other night on my porch. We go about our daily business knowing that our confidant is just across the yard. Chloe wanders back and forth like it’s nothing. You said you have feelings for me. Nothing about this is normal.” John held my shoulders. “I should have minded my own business,” I said. The words took my breath away. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Maggie, I won’t tell you what to do.”

  This proved harder each waking minute. Wasn’t it possible to have a relationship with someone new without headaches, without angst? Couldn’t we just move forward? “I’m not sure what I want to do?”

  “Everyone has baggage,” John said.

  At least some of my baggage was full-grown and lived independently. Bradley happily resided in Boston. Beckett was content in his condo downtown. Mom was Mom, and there didn’t seem to be a problem there. Maybe I was my own baggage. Chloe’s laugh echoed in the distance. I took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “I guess,” I said. The facts were plain, but not so simple.

  Chloe ran into the garage. “Maggie, did you hear? Did you hear? I get to go to Chicago to see my mom in a shoot.”

  Her toothy smile sent my heart wielding. John unbuckled the leather-studded bag on his bike then pulled out Chloe’s matted purple cat, Voodoo.

  “Voodoo!” Chloe squealed with delight. “I wondered where he went.”

  “I haven’t seen him in some time,” I said.

  Chloe squeezed Voodoo tight.

  “Hey,” I said, “he has two eyes now. What gives?”

  “Glad fixed him. Look, she sewed it so it looks like he’s winking. Cool, huh?”

  That was my mom, she liked to fix things, didn’t matter who you were, she was always trying to help. Maybe I needed to remember that more often. Maybe we weren’t so different after all. “She does good work,” I said, feeling Voodoo’s newly stitched eye. “So what’s this about Chicago?” I asked, grinning at John’s mischievous expression.

  “Mom said I could come see her in Chicago. Will you take me shopping, Maggie? I want to get some new clothes. Dad, is it okay if Maggie takes me shopping before I go see Mom?”

  John organized wrenches on his tool bench. “That’s up to Maggie. She’s a busy lady.”

  Chloe turned to me with question in her eyes. I completely understood. Mom sent Dad shopping for clothes with me once and let’s just say it was the only time.

  “Sure,” I said, “we’ll figure out a time.”

  Chloe bounced with joy.

  “Maybe you two should hit the stores in Chicago while you’re there,” John said.

  I raised an eyebrow at him. The roguish glint in his eye sparkled as he raised his eyebrow back at me. Now I knew where Chloe got it from, but she didn’t catch her dad’s comment because she was busy putting Voodoo in the basket on her bike. She straddled the metal frame and carefully tiptoed over to where I stood.

  “So you decided to come, too?” Chloe asked.

  Surprised that she knew I was invited, but not really, I smiled. “Yeah, sounds like fun.” Chloe scrunched up her nose as she clipped the snap of her bike helmet. “You knew all along?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’m getting better at keeping secrets. Mom told me. She told me not to bug you about it,” Chloe rambled under her breath as she kicked up the kickstand. “She told me to be patient. That’s hard for a kid, you know.”

  “I know.” I tucked Voodoo’s leash into the basket. Chloe grinned in her dad’s direction. He tinkered with the Harley. She had his eyes and his heart.

  “I’m going to ride around the block. I’ll be back.” Chloe waved over her shoulder as she rode away making motorcycle sounds and pretending to rev her Schwinn.

  John stood beside me as we watched Chloe pedal down the driveway.

  “I knew you’d cave,” he said.

  “How’d you know?” I asked, watching Chloe pedal faster. Her hair flowed like blond streaks of sunshine in the wind.

  “Because you’re you.”

  I stared into John’s Irish sparkling eyes. “That predictable, huh?” I crossed my arms in front of me.

  “Not really, but something told me you wouldn’t want to disappoint Chloe.”

  John nudged me with his elbow then put his arm around my shoulder.

  I rolled my eyes. “You just knew, huh?”

  “Yeah, because I can always count on you,” he said, kissing the side of my head.

  Chapter 12

  My bed was heaped with clothes, jeans, trousers, blouses, jackets, and scarves, but nothing seemed right. Changing my mind several times, I couldn’t decide what to pack. I should’ve followed Chloe’s lead when we were shopping. After an hour of trying things on, she finally settled on a new pink pair of Converse Chuck Taylor’s high tops, a pair of looser-fitting boyfriend jeans, and two new T-shirts. I really liked the white tee she bought with the skeleton face made of lace. I thought about asking if it came in adult sizes, should have.

  Leaving my suitcase open, I scrutinized my dull wardrobe. Heat flooded me as the frustration grew in time with the smoldering hot flash. Even though I tried not to compare myself to Brook, she kept popping into my mind. No doubt, she’d be dressed to the nines, but like Chloe, I was partial to jeans and a simple shirt. In frustration, I hung everything back up in my closet then found my skinny jeans, a few button-down shirts, and a few T-shirts. High heels weren’t in my realm of fashion and wouldn’t ever be so I packed my animal print ballet flats. My gaze scanned the remaining contents of my closet.

  “Take the black jeans,” I said to myself. Pleased with how my pile shaped up I added an Italian lace scarf Mom had gotten me in Positano, Italy, years ago. “Better take the little leather jacket, too. And the London Fog trench,” I mumbled to myself.

  “Who are you talking to?” Chloe said.

  I poked my head out of my closet. “No one. Just trying to get organized.”

  “My dad talks to himself, too. You guys sure are weird sometimes.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I replied, grabbing my brown Frye ankle boots.

  Chloe ran her hand over my things. “I like what you picked,” she said with a smile.

&nbs
p; “Thanks. This is hard.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m never sure what my mom expects. I don’t want to let her down. I wanted to get some different things when we went shopping, but it felt weird trying to dress for her.”

  I sat at the end of the bed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Chloe scratched the side of her head and sighed.

  “You do?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it’s hard being something you’re not. Been there, done that,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Sometimes I still catch myself doing it.”

  “I just want Mom to like me,” Chloe said. “She’s so beautiful and I’m just a dork.”

  “I’m sure your mom loves you regardless of how you dress.”

  Chloe sat in the chair next to the window. “It’s not just that. I don’t think I’ll ever be as pretty as she is.”

  My insides wilted. Chloe would never know it, but I felt exactly the same way.

  Chloe fiddled with Voodoo as she leaned back and let out a big sigh.

  “You are beautiful,” I said.

  She stared through me. Doubt filled her eyes. “You’re just being nice.”

  “You are exactly the way you are meant to be, and that’s pretty perfect.”

  She snickered. “Yeah, if I’m perfect then why don’t things go my way?” she questioned. “That stupid Hilary at school thinks I’m ugly.”

  “What does she know? I replied, hoping Chloe would bite. “Unfortunately kids are mean sometimes and usually it’s because they don’t like themselves very much.”

  “Whatever, I’m still a dork and hardly anyone believes that my mom is really in magazines.”

  “Fine, keep thinking you’re a dork, but some dorks grow up to be incredible adults,” I said, standing up. “What do you say we blow this lemonade stand?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. It’s an old saying. It means let’s get out of here,” I explained. “Your dad will be home by six. We have some time to kill. What do you want to do?”

 

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