9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  "If you guys could only see yourselves," she said, trying to diffuse their anxiety as well as her racing pulse.

  "What happened?" they said at the same time.

  With a little more control, Maggie answered, "It was a cat."

  "What?" Again, they spoke in perfect unison.

  "I think it was one of the barn cats from the ranch." She steadied herself against the door frame. "She must've come in earlier in the day while the doors were open and gotten trapped in the bedroom. I startled her when I came into the house." Relieved the "someone" with her in the dark had only been a cat, she wished the little stink hadn't broken her lovely vase and wondered where the vandal had run off to now.

  Graeme double-checked the windows in Andy's room while Ben looked in the kitchen and breakfast area. They converged on the porch after all concerns were addressed.

  "It does appear you have a wiring issue along with a nosy cat. I'm guessing he ran out the front door since we haven't come across him. I'll write a report with all the findings and have it on file."

  Ben shook Graeme's hand, and then hugged Maggie. "Call me anytime. I can be here pretty quick if you need me." He touched the brim of his hat and headed to his car.

  After he'd driven away, Graeme walked with her back into the house. "Why don't you pack a few things and come with me to the main house tonight? Bridey would want you there. I'll help you make some sense of this mess tomorrow." He stood with his hands loosely resting on his hips, waiting for her answer.

  "Thanks, but I'll stay here." She wondered about the wisdom of her actions, but she'd made the choice to move back here. She had to step up and take control. Could she do that if she capitulated at the first sign of trouble?

  When Graeme looked ready to protest her decision, Maggie added, "We didn't find anything other than a stray cat. I'll be fine."

  "Bridey's likely to howl when she finds out." He grinned. "Thanks, by the way, for throwing me into that den alone."

  "You're welcome," Maggie shot back, amused this six-foot-four Special Forces soldier would worry about facing the barely five-foot tall woman.

  "I wish you'd reconsider. I'm not convinced it was only a cat."

  "Well, I am." Suddenly tired beyond belief, she opened the door and waited for him to recognize that she was kicking him out. "After the day and night I've had, there won't be a thing to keep me awake."

  "All right." He turned to leave, but stopped at the door and tapped the switch. "I think this should be okay so long as you leave these off until an electrician checks them out."

  "I will, and Graeme?"

  He stepped outside onto the porch. "Yeah?"

  "Thank you for being here tonight."

  "You're welcome."

  She closed the door and, once again, watched until he was out of sight.

  * * *

  Graeme entered the main house through the kitchen, moving quietly so as not to wake anyone. When he reached the stairs, he noticed light streaming from beneath the door of Andrew's study. Wondering what had Andrew awake at four in the morning, he rapped softly on the door. To his surprise, Elliott called for him to come in.

  "What are you doing up?"

  "Thinking." Elliott pinned Graeme with a curious glare. "Where've you been?"

  Graeme sat in a brown leather barrel chair placed at an angle in front of the desk. "Took Maggie home."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah." He pointed his index finger at Elliott. "And you can wipe that stupid look off your face because nothing happened." Not that he hadn't entertained the idea.

  "Did you kiss her, at least?"

  "No, at first glance, it looked like someone might've broken into her house."

  Elliott bolted upright in the desk chair. "Seriously?"

  "Ben came out and we looked through the house. Turns out a stray cat probably got closed up in a back room while she moved in earlier."

  "Maggie all right?"

  "She says yes, but…"

  "You don't agree?"

  "Let's say uneasy enough that I stopped by the bunkhouse on the way in. I figured Junebug would be up making coffee. He agreed to have one of the hands ride by and check her house before sun-up."

  "Why didn't you stay?"

  "Thought it'd be better if I left."

  "I see." Elliott leaned back in his chair. He drummed his fingers on the desktop, a knowing grin spread across his face.

  "You don't see shit." Graeme hated that his brother read him so easily. He took pride in his ability to conceal personal feelings. Or maybe Elliott was fishing, trying to tweak a response.

  Deciding not to let Elliott bait him further, he scooted down in the chair, shoulders against the back, his out-stretched legs crossed at the ankles, his chin resting on tented fingers.

  "Since we couldn't see anything in the dark, I'm going to meet Ben over there first thing to look around outside."

  "Want an extra pair of eyes?"

  "You offering yours?"

  "Yeah, I have nothing better to do today."

  Graeme stood and scrubbed both hands over his face. He was tired but knew he'd be unable to sleep.

  "Meet you in an hour at the coffee pot after we've both had a shower?" He punched his brother's arm as they headed toward the office door. "No offense, but one of us smells like a dirty ashtray."

  * * *

  Maggie leaned on the kitchen counter and peered at her reflection in the side of the stainless steel toaster.

  "Holy mackerel," she muttered under her breath, while gingerly patting her puffy red-rimmed eyes. "I look like forty miles of bad road this morning."

  Dinah muffled a giggle behind manicured nails.

  "Go ahead, my friend, laugh while you can," Maggie retorted sarcastically. "If there's any justice in this world, someday you, too, will retain water like a sponge."

  A single slice of bread popped up golden brown from the toaster. It looked like toast and smelled like toast, but, as Maggie bit into the dried out square, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Resisting the overwhelming urge to slather it with butter and jam, she instead walked to the back door, opened it and flung the toast into the yard for the birds.

  "Hey," Dinah protested. "What are you doing?"

  "Hopefully, giving that piece of cardboard to someone who'll appreciate it more than me." Maggie took a drink of her lukewarm coffee and nearly gagged. "The only thing I hate worse than dry toast is cold coffee."

  "That's enough negative talk. The end results will be worth all the sacrifices, I promise." Dinah poured coffee into a mug and sipped the hot black liquid. "On top of your fantastic nursing skills, you're going to wow those doctors on the hospital board. They'll have no choice but to hire you back. You deserve it after they suspended you prematurely for the missing morphine."

  Maggie brushed the crumbs from the front of the scrub top she'd pulled from a stack of old clothes meant for the rag bag. "Since the drugs went missing on my shift, they had no choice but to follow hospital policy. I'm thankful the investigators found the nurse who took them and cleared my name." She dumped the cold coffee into the sink then replaced it with the hot contents from the carafe. Reaching for the carton on the counter, she liberally added half and half.

  She returned Dinah's glare and said, "There's a limit to how much I'll give up to fit into a borrowed suit for an interview that might not even materialize."

  "Am I talking to myself? What did I just say?"

  "I'm sorry, Di. I'm just…"

  A loud rapping at the front door interrupted Maggie's apology. Both she and Dinah went to see who was there. A look through the peep hole revealed Ben Hammond looking official in his Stetson and freshly starched uniform.

  Maggie opened the door and greeted the sheriff, "Ben, it's good to see you. Please come in."

  "Mornin', Maggie," he said, as he removed his hat and wiped his feet. He stepped inside, stopping abruptly when he saw Dinah. Tipping his head her direction, he added, "'um, ma'am."

  She didn't know how s
omeone could pale and blush at the same time, but he did just that. Maggie slanted a glance toward her friend, who was apparently at a loss for words. She cleared her throat and nudged Dinah with her elbow.

  Dinah nodded. "Sheriff."

  "Maggie, I stopped by to check around the house, especially outside in the daylight."

  "The ground's so hard since we haven't had rain. Do you think you'll see much?"

  "Maybe not, but I wanted to satisfy an itch. I need to be sure we didn't overlook anything last night."

  "Well, I won't stop you. Feel free to look all you want." She smiled and noticed he was looking plenty at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. Right now he resembled a calf staring at a new gate and it didn't appear he was moving anytime soon. She tried to remember if she'd ever heard of Ben dating anyone, but she couldn't.

  Giving him a verbal nudge, she said, "So, Ben, you'll let me know what you find?"

  He looked at Maggie like he'd forgotten she was standing there. "Yeah, I sure will."

  She closed the door behind him, grinned and shook her head. "Wow."

  "I know, right?" Dinah stared after him like a dieting woman lusts after a slice of chocolate cake. "I'd sure like to satisfy that itch of his."

  "Dinah Marie," she warned. "Take it easy on him, will you? He's the only sheriff we've got."

  Before they left the living room, Maggie heard more men's voices. She figured out one of them was Graeme but couldn't put a face to the other. When she stepped out onto the porch, she recognized Elliott. All three men were huddled together, Ben and Elliott listening as Graeme talked. When he pointed toward the back of the house and then the pasture to the west, goosebumps formed on her arms and shivers snaked down her spine.

  Following Dinah back to the kitchen, she rationalized the previous evening's events. She wanted to believe a cat and faulty wiring were responsible for last nights upset. She wouldn't willingly accept another explanation if she continued living here with Andy. She had to keep him safe at all costs.

  Maggie distracted her thoughts by cleaning counters and putting food away. Movement outside the window over the sink drew her attention. Two riders on horseback were talking to the Musketeers, she thought with a smile. Her knights.

  She still harbored resentment toward Elliott, even though it was his office that pursued the charges against her, not him personally. He'd recused himself from the case and stood by her along with the family. Nevertheless, the distance between them remained.

  The sound of Graeme's boots scraping on the wooden floor of the screened in back porch captured her attention and heightened her anxiety. She didn't want to hear they'd found shoe prints around the house or that someone had jimmied a window. She'd already rationalized everything in her mind.

  She wouldn't allow one careless act to destroy her resolve to make a life for her son and herself.

  Chapter 6

  Maggie stepped to the screen door when Graeme rapped against the wooden frame.

  "Hey," he said as she unlatched the screen and invited him inside.

  "Hey, yourself."

  He entered and leaned against the cabinet.

  "Well," she said. "What's the verdict?"

  "The only things we found were a couple of footprints in the flowerbeds beneath the bedroom windows, but it's pretty evident they've been there a while. The ground's hard as a brick bat from lack of water. Nothing really looks messed with."

  "Oh, good." Maggie fanned herself with the tail of the terry hand towel she held. "I'll admit I've been holding my breath a little since last night. So, whew, that's great news." She realized she was prattling on, but she couldn't seem to find her mental hand brake.

  She'd held herself together since the possible break-in and now she had a case of the jitters. To busy herself so he wouldn't see her shaking, she opened a box marked cups/glasses and started putting them into the dishwasher. Feeling her tenuous control slip, she asked, "By the way, who were the two men on horseback that you were talking to?"

  "Pete Talmadge and Jorge Mendoza from the Ranch. I asked Junebug to have someone watch your place for a few days. Ben and Elliott agreed with me."

  Maggie fumed. She didn't speak, didn't turn around. Her knights, indeed. Spies were more like it. She stopped herself from reading him the riot act for that wasn't true. He wanted to protect her. She wanted her independence. Her reaction toward his concern couldn't be further off base. She closed the dishwasher then broke down the cardboard box and placed it in the stack with the others. When she had a better grip on her emotions, she turned to face him.

  "Graeme, thanks for doing that. I appreciate everything you've done for me."

  "I'm glad I can help." He scooped a few pieces of packing paper into the trashcan. "What can I do for you this afternoon? Do you have any furniture or boxes I could move?" He leaned across the counter and pointed out the kitchen window. "Elliott and Ben are still here, we could make short work of what's left."

  Before she could answer, Trevor walked through the door between the dining room and kitchen. He held several collapsed boxes stacked on top of another unopened box that she noticed had Kitchen Misc scribbled on the side.

  "Here you go, Maggie. Where do you want these?"

  "You can just set them over here with the others."

  He took her direction then said to Graeme, "McAlister."

  "Riordon."

  For some reason Maggie couldn't fathom, the tension visibly arced between the two men. She decided to eliminate half the testosterone from the house, and, more specifically, the room.

  "Thanks, Trevor, for helping today."

  "There's still a lot to unbox. I'll go on back there and get started on another one."

  "No, I appreciate your offer, but Dinah's going to stay and I think we'll take our time putting things away."

  He glanced over at Graeme, grinned then hugged Maggie and kissed her cheek. "I'll call you later."

  "Sure." She walked him to the front door and, when she turned around, Graeme stood at the kitchen door watching her.

  "What was Riordon doing here?"

  "He stopped by because he'd heard about the break-in and he wanted to see if I needed anything." She moved passed him to go back into the kitchen.

  "Humph. Well, what can I do?"

  "Seriously, I meant it when I said I wanted to leisurely put things away."

  The lost look on his face was almost comical for a man so decisive, like he didn't have a clue what to do next.

  She made her decision then and, before she could change her mind, she asked, "How about supper tomorrow night?"

  Without a second's hesitation, he answered, "I'll bring the beer."

  Maggie watched him duck slightly and turn his broad shoulders a fraction to exit through the door to the patio then move out into the yard. For just a quick minute, she'd actually considered his offer to help. No doubt tomorrow she'd regret not putting those muscles to work, but it was going to take her all night, as it was, to get him out of her mind and his scent out of her memory.

  Suddenly, she felt energized, practically giddy, and as she headed to find out what Dinah needed in another part of the house, she realized being looked after was far better than being alone.

  * * *

  A short time later, Graeme called Joe Webster.

  INTERCEPT's director answered on the second ring, "Didn't expect to hear from you this soon."

  "Me either." Graeme wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots and socks. "I need you to do a favor for me. Today, if possible."

  "I will if I can, what's up?"

  "I need background checks on Nelson Widmore and Trevor Riordon.”

  "What am I looking for?"

  "I don't know . . . anything. Widmore is a long time family friend and Riordon's the new kid on the block. I hope to see one or both of them tomorrow."

  "Okay, I'll get the info for you." Joe excused himself, then returned amidst sounds of shuffli
ng paper. "Did you look at the file I sent with you?"

  "Yeah, I did. That, Bridey's concerns, and the message on the recorder at my apartment prompts deeper investigation."

  "What message?"

  "From Wyatt the day he died, I just heard it yesterday."

  "You didn't –"

  "I'll fill you in when I know more, in the mean time –"

  "You'll have it no later than first thing in the morning."

  Graeme tossed the phone onto the nightstand and laid back on the bed. Exhaustion sucked him under like a pit of quicksand. Lethargy crept up his legs to his upper body and arms. Before he went under he sought to remember some key points . . . help family, save . . . need . . . love . . . Maggie

  * * *

  The next morning Graeme opened his door onto the hall to the smell of bacon frying. His stomach growled as the clock at the base of the stairs chimed seven. To his surprise he'd slept nearly twelve hours. On his way to the dining room, he stopped by the office to check the fax but found nothing from Webster.

  Elliott and Bridey sat at the table finishing their breakfast. Graeme fixed a plate of eggs, bacon and biscuits from the buffet, then sat at his old place at the table.

  Vidalia appeared with hot coffee for his cup. "It's good to have you back home, Mr. Graeme."

  "Thanks." He smiled and held up a biscuit half. "I've missed your cooking."

  "I dare say we'd have to shake the sheets to find you, but don't you worry," she said as she left the room. "I'll get you back to fightin' weight in no time."

  "She's missed cooking for you boys. Andrew and I barely eat anymore, so she's looking forward to honing her skills." Bridey pushed her plate away from the edge and leaned back with her coffee cup in her hand. "Elliott tells me you're going to the office this morning."

  "Yes ma'am."

  "Good, I want you to take him along."

  "Good idea, four eyes are always better than two."

  "Oh, well," Bridey stammered.

  Graeme could count on one hand the times he'd knocked the wind out of Bridey's sails, this being one of them. She'd obviously been prepared for him to resist her request and he took delight he'd surprised her. He drained the coffee from his cup, stacked the now empty dishes and asked Elliott, "You ready to go, or do you need to check you mascara and lipstick?"