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

by Bradley, Linda

  Chloe trotted after Mom.

  “I’ll be in the garage,” John said.

  The cool wood beneath my feet simmered my nerves. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

  The upstairs hallway seemed emptier than usual. Photos of Bradley and Beckett lined the walls. I guess I hadn’t noticed Beckett still hanging around. I hadn’t seen him in person since Bradley was here. I wondered how he was and what he was doing, but the curiosity faded with the feel of soft denim, a pair of Frye boots, and thoughts of John. I slipped on a white tee and tied my hair back.

  Bradley stared at me from the photo on my dresser. His childhood seemed eons ago.

  “I love you, little boy,” I said, touching the brushed metal frame. “I’ll come to Boston soon,” I said, expecting him to answer. “I know. I hear you,” I continued, placing the frame back in its spot. Leaning into the mirror on the wall, I inspected my face, smoothed back the skin on my neck, and fantasized about a facelift. It seemed like self-enhancement advertisements were everywhere nowadays. “Maybe just a clothespin at the nape of my neck would do the job.”

  “Do what job?” Chloe said.

  I screamed. “Jesus,” I yelped. “You scared the—”

  “Don’t say it. You’re doing a good job not swearing as much.”

  Chloe shook her finger at me. The urge to twist it off surfaced. I swatted it away. “What are you doing up here?” The sound of John’s Harley rumbled in the distance. “Dad’s not going to wait forever. You’d better get down there,” she advised, checking her hair in the mirror. “I like your bedroom,” she said, inspecting the contents of my makeup bag.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’m surprised it’s so neat,” she said.

  I scowled at her.

  “What? I figured since the rest of your house is neat, with the exception of your desk sometimes, that your bedroom just might be a pig sty.”

  “Nice,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Seriously, you’d better go. Glad sent me up here to tell you to lock the door. We’re going to the market now. I get to pick dinner.”

  “Lucky dog,” I shot back, hoping I wanted what she chose. “Cereal would be fine with me.”

  “Although that is tempting,” she hemmed and hawed, “I think I’ll save that for when I’m with Dad. He can’t burn that.”

  Chloe left the room. I followed in her footsteps and watched her inspect the photos on the walls. Beckett’s ghost faded into thin air as I stepped past the family photo on the beaches of Isle of the Palms near Charleston, the last vacation when we both truly smiled and felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Time hadn’t stolen that memory, but it had stolen my wrinkle free youthful face. Chloe caught me staring. “Look how young I look in that photo.”

  “Not so different,” Chloe said, standing on her tippy toes to see better.

  “I think so.”

  “Of course you do. Grown-ups are weird that way. I don’t think my dad changes either.”

  “I wonder if that’s because you’re young.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re not going to get all weird on me, are you?” she said.

  “Someday when you’re older, you’ll know what I mean.”

  “Well, I don’t care how you look. Those glasses on Bradley’s dad are what I’m seeing. Holy moly, talk about ugly,” Chloe said. “They’re kind of big.”

  I smiled. “I hated those glasses, too.” The oversized black rims took over his face.

  We both laughed.

  “The better to see you with, my dear.” Chloe cackled like a fairy-tale witch. She scooted ahead of me as my mom called up the stairs for her.

  My boots clicked on the stairs. “I got the door,” I said to my mom.

  Bones wagged his tail. Mom bent down to hook the leash on his collar. His pink tongue hung out of his mouth as he panted.

  “Be careful on that motorcycle,” she said. “Wear a helmet.”

  “I will.” I opened the foyer closet. “Here’s the disaster room,” I said to Chloe, peeking around the door.

  “Whoa, you’re not kidding. There’s stuff all over in there.”

  She took the handle of the leash from my mom. I nudged the stuff on the floor in the closet away from the door to close it. With my jacket in one hand and the key to the house in the other, I shut the front door, and locked it. Mom and Chloe drove off in Mom’s convertible with Bones in the backseat-both sporting oversized movie star sunglasses. John rolled down the driveway on his Harley with the engine purring. His smile begged for attention. I strapped on the black helmet before swinging my leg over the backseat and settling in behind him.

  Chapter 36

  The warm May breeze swept over me like a lover. It was finally here. I said it once and I’ll continue until the end of time. This was my favorite time of year. I sat on the rock next to John staring out into the calm Michigan lake. The quiet air between us held secrets to the future that neither of us could predict. I leaned back, braced myself with my palms flat against the cool stone and held my chin to the sky, my eyes closed, my ears listening to the water sway against the rocks. John’s hand covered mine. I smiled then breathed in the perfect air laced with summer adventure.

  “That’s nice,” I said before opening my eyes.

  He wrapped his fingers around mine. “Maggie—”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are we ever going to really talk about that night?”

  John’s emerald eyes glistened in the daylight. I held his gaze pondering the purpose of rehashing a memory I’d tucked away for safekeeping, like a treasure not wanting to tarnish it in the fresh air. The rise and fall of my chest weighed me down. The sight of his hand in mine reminded me that I was sitting next to a person with hopes and dreams, too.

  “What is there to say?” I asked, my voice weak, my insides cringing with uncertainty.

  John narrowed his gaze. His expression serious, hurt in his beautiful eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” I stared down into the blue lake. Minnows darted back and forth just beneath the surface of the water.

  “It was an amazing night.”

  I smiled and scanned the horizon searching for myself. Heat smoldered in my cheeks. My skin tingled as I unzipped my jacket.

  “That’s a mighty big smile, Maggie Abernathy,” John said. “In fact, it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen on your face. You should wear it more often. You just might get some of these little lines like me.” John pointed to the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes.

  “I like those lines. They’re one of my favorite part about you. Makes me think you had many good times.”

  I laughed. John was still holding my hand and I let him.

  “Have you thought about Montana?” he asked.

  The corner of my mouth curled up. “How can I not? The McIntyre family does not give up easily, do you?” I brushed away a wisp of hair tickled my cheek.

  “What do you have to lose?” John’s voice was deep, his words slow and methodical-his eyes dark and curious.

  We were discussing more than a visit to Montana.

  “Everything,” I said, holding his gaze.

  He shook his head at me, his eyes narrowed. That familiar ache of worry surfaced. I didn’t expect him to understand. I’d already had one failed marriage, which I felt responsible for even if Beckett was gay. “I’ve spent most my life with blinders on.” I didn’t trust myself.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

  A flock of geese squawked overhead. My eyes followed their path over the lake. Their flapping wings stroked the sky. The noise grew louder and pricked my ears. Behind the V-shaped gaggle of birds two geese trailed, their wings doing double time hustling to catch up. “You know when one goose gets sick or injured two other geese stay with it until it dies or it can fly again.”

  “Kind of like me and Chloe?” he asked.

  I memorized the contour of John’s strong hand that covered mine
as I swallowed away emotion. They had stayed with me. My eyes brimmed with tears.

  “Why don’t you fly again?”

  I peered down into the lake. The frantic minnows disappeared beneath the rippling surface. “I don’t know,” I said. “It still hurts sometimes, I guess. Makes me unsure.” And that was truth. Beckett may have been gone, but sometimes the memories seemed like fresh wounds, tender, raw. “I don’t know why, especially …”

  “Especially, what?” John asked.

  “Now that you’re here.”

  “I’ve been there. When Brook cheated, I thought my life was over. When I met her, I thought I’d spend all my days with her. And you’re right, just when you think it’s all good, it haunts you until one day, you exorcise the demons that hold you back from whatever it is that you’re in need of.”

  I sighed, stood up, stretched my legs, and tucked my hands in my back pockets.

  John stood beside me, his arm around my shoulders. “You’re stronger than you know, Maggie Abernathy.”

  “I don’t feel very strong,” I mumbled. “I can’t make a decision. As attracted as I am to you …” An image of Chloe flashed in my brain.

  “What?”

  “I’m reluctant because I love Chloe and I don’t want to hurt her.” John held my stare. “I don’t want to lose her.” The corner of my mouth lifted in a grin as I pictured her chasing after Bones.

  John drew me closer. He kissed the side of my head. “If it’s not meant to be, then I guess it’s not meant to be.”

  My heart constricted at the tone in John’s voice. God, what was I doing? The ladies in this small town loved him, chased him, even sent babysitters his way just to get the skinny, and I pushed him away. But wasn’t it better to be friends and have Chloe than be lovers and have the inevitable fallout and lose them both? Wasn’t that how these things worked?

  Feeling torn, I wanted to forget about Montana. John draped his other arm across my chest and held me close. I held on to his muscular forearm. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “We’d better get home. If Chloe doesn’t get her ride, it’ll be a long evening,” John said with a sigh. “Send her home after you three eat.”

  “I thought you were joining us,” I said, searching his face in hopes of reading him better.

  “I don’t feel much like eating,” John said. “Besides, I have a lot to do. The house is going up next week.”

  I lost my breath in his words. “There’s no chance I can change your mind.” He held out his hand to help me across the rocks back onto grassy knoll. “I told you before and I’ll tell you again, I don’t want new neighbors. I like things the way they are.”

  John gave me a little jerk as I hopped from the last rock to solid ground. His mysterious eyes captured my attention. Lost in the dark pools of green, I stood mesmerized.

  His brow furrowed. “Things change, Maggie. People have to move on. The world keeps spinning.”

  I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I wanted to stay in my little bubble regardless how uncomfortable because that’s what I knew and I could do that. He’d move on and I’d remain stagnate. The thought terrified me. We strolled across the park back to the Harley.

  John and I turned toward the young girl’s voice that drifted through the air. Chloe’s friend Autumn ran behind us calling for our attention. She took a deep breath, rested her hands on her knees, and half bent over trying to catch her breath. Her bangs stuck to her forehead.

  “Is Chloe with you guys?” she asked.

  “No, she’s back at home,” John said.

  Autumn stood up then smoothed her black hair back away from her face. John spoke while I glanced around looking for her mother.

  “Is your mom here?” I asked.

  “Yeah, over there,” she said, pointing to the bench by the play structure.

  John shaded his eyes and gave a little wave. His smile drew me in.

  “Tell your mom I said hello.”

  “Sure thing,” Autumn said as she ran back to the playground.

  I smiled and waved, too.

  “She’s really a nice woman,” John said.

  Heat engulfed my body as jealousy engulfed my mind. I fanned my face hoping John wouldn’t notice.

  “You okay,” he asked.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Autumn’s mom watching us walk toward the parking lot. I didn’t answer right away. How did he know she was a nice woman? Sure the girls played together at school, but I’d never seen her dropping Autumn off next door. I felt myself slip into uncharted territory.

  “What?” he asked.

  Pissed off at myself for being jealous of a woman who always wore a hat and spoke less than a mute, I stewed silently. I chastised myself for being my own worst enemy. I chastised myself for acting the way he did when he saw the bouquet from Fletcher. “Nothing,” I said. Mom’s voice resonated in my head. I tried to shake it away, but she was there even when she wasn’t there.

  “Maggie, just say it,” John said, handing me my helmet as we stood next to the Harley.

  Pressing my lips together, I felt a hard line form. I couldn’t help but look away. “Really, it’s nothing.” I had no right. I was the one digging my heels in.

  “It’s been my experience that if a woman says, it’s nothing, it’s something, and it’s usually something big in her mind,” he said, strapping his helmet on.

  “How do you know her?” I asked.

  A thin smile crossed his lips making me seethe even more. My palms began to sweat. “She’s not my type. You can relax,” he said, putting on his sunglasses.

  He reached over and snapped the strap to my helmet, his hand grazing my chin.

  “You must think I’m an idiot,” I said, “cause I sure do.”

  “You said it, not me,” he replied. “You ready to roll?”

  I unsnapped my helmet, took it off, and put it on the bike seat. “I think I’d better walk home,” I said as the lump in my throat grew bigger.

  “Maggie,” John said.

  “What?” I huffed under my breath as I glanced over my shoulder at him through teary eyes.

  John lowered his shades, and his gaze bore threw me. Damn him.

  Chapter 37

  The scowl on my face made my mouth droop. The tightness in my brow resulted in a throbbing headache, and my stomach gurgled from being empty. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this angry with myself, for letting John get the upper hand. I scuffled up the front stairs. Mom’s car was gone. Judy was on the swing waiting for me. I hid behind my sunglasses.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Nice to see you, too,” she answered. “Your mom called me and said you might need a friend.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jesus.” I leaned against the half wall of the porch. “I suppose you know everything, because nothing can be private around here.”

  “To be honest, yeah, I do. John told Glad you got mad at him and refused to get on the bike.”

  I rested my sunglasses on top of my head. “He was being a jerk,” I said. “He knew damn well what he was doing.”

  “Maybe, I don’t know what happened between you two.”

  I watched Judy shift her weight on the swing and tuck her leg under her butt as if she was settling in for the long haul. I thought quickly about my words, not wanting to be the bad guy.

  “He really didn’t have to say what he did. He could have just said, ‘You’re not an idiot,’ but instead he said, ‘You said it, not me,’” I exclaimed through clenched teeth. “Jesus.” I covered my eyes with the palms of my hands then pressed as hard as I could.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  I sat down beside Judy, staring straight ahead. “Where’s my mom? Where’s Chloe?”

  “Your mom left. Chloe is with her dad on the bike. What did you do to him? He was pretty quiet.”

  I stared at her, my lips pressed together. “What do you mean, ‘What did I do to h
im?’”

  “Maybe I should go,” Judy suggested with a raised brow.

  I held my breath then let it out slowly. “Sorry, I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” Judy’s curly hair framed her face like a baroque framed Modigliani painting.

  “Has anyone told you that you look like Rhea Perlman?”

  “Don’t change the subject on me. And yes, I’ve heard that before. What’s so difficult here?”

  I rubbed my throbbing temples. My true feelings swirled inside of me like a tornado, sweeping away any logic. Embarrassed, I chewed on my thumbnail. “It’s complicated.”

  “Well, why don’t you start at the beginning,” she suggested.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Okay,” I huffed, “I’m avoiding a relationship with John because when it doesn’t work out, I’ll be cut off from Chloe, too and I couldn’t bear not having her in my life. There, I said it.”

  “Who says it’s not going to work out?”

  “He’s moving to Montana. That’s really far away. I have to stay here and work. I can’t just sell my practice and move. I don’t have a practice. I’m mad at him.”

  “Why? Is there more?”

  “Yeah.” Rubbing my temples, I bore my fingertips into the sides of my head. “It has to do with me, though. It’s not his fault.”

  “Bring it on,” Judy mumbled.

  I scowled in her direction. “This isn’t a sparring match, friend.”

  “I agree. He’s awful. What else?”

  “Oh, Christ.” I slunk down against the swing. “Why does he get to behave badly, but I don’t?”

  “Double standard rule?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I think I was overly sensitive.”

  Judy swatted a mosquito from her knee. “About what?”

  “None of this makes sense,” I said, running my fingers through my hair.

  “You’re telling me.” Judy nodded in agreement. “Got anything to drink?”

  I sat silent.

  “So, getting back to John, what did he say that made you so mad?”

  “It wasn’t what he said, he used my own words against me. All he had to do was say, ‘No, you’re not an idiot.’ But no, he stood there and smirked when I became a smidgeon vulnerable.” I squinted, picturing his expression in my head. “He enjoyed every second.”