by Webb, Peggy
Maggie tiptoed around the bed and carefully pulled the covers back over his leg and up across his chest. Her hands lingered as she softly smoothed the quilt around him. Then she stiffened and left the bed.
The dying embers of last night’s fire provided small comfort against the chill as Maggie walked to the window. Pressing her forehead against the icy pane, she looked out into the dark woods. The owl’s cry echoed through the night. It was a lonesome, mournful cry, sadly appropriate for the moment.
Tears slid down Maggie’s cheek and merged with the moisture on the windowpanes. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why couldn’t she have said “yes” that afternoon in the middle of the taffy? She loved Adam so fiercely that it made her weak just to think about it. But it was an impossible love. Their differences were so huge, they might as well be on two separate continents.
Maggie turned from the dark window and moved toward the fireplace. She sat on the hearth rug, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them. The faint glow of the embers tinted the tears that still rained down her face, washing her skin with red-gold. She and Adam were both strong-willed people. If she married him, she was sure their differences would fester under the surface until they finally eroded the marriage and destroyed them both. And she couldn’t let that happen. Marriage for her was a lifetime commitment, not just a short-term agreement. She couldn’t commit herself to Adam knowing that the future was so shaky and uncertain. She couldn’t marry the man she loved, knowing that the love would eventually destroy him.
She wiped her shirt sleeve across her face, drying the tears that glistened there. Outside, the owl’s cry sounded fainter as the night bird moved deeper into the forest. Maggie hugged her lonesomeness around her and sat very still, listening. The owl’s cry was a death knell, mingling with the sound of her own breaking heart, a haunting dirge for the death of a marriage that could never be.
“Maggie?” The quiet voice came from behind her.
She turned her head to see Adam standing a few feet away, watching her. The anguish on her face sent him a silent message, and his response was immediate.
Swiftly he was beside her, cradling her in his arms. With his lips on her hair, he murmured, “Maggie, Maggie, love. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she whispered, buying her face in his shoulder.
He rocked her gently in his arms, not saying a word, giving her time to share her anguish with him.
“Everything.” She gulped back the tears that were collecting in her throat. Gripping his shoulders with both hands, she looked up into his face. “It’s us, Adam. We’re impossible.” Her look asked him to deny the statement, begged him to prove her wrong.
“No,” he said, firmly. “I love you, Maggie, and I know we can make it work.”
“How?” Her green eyes challenged him in the dim light of the room. “Just tell me how.”
She hardly breathed as she looked up at him for an answer. The waiting stillness filled the room, hanging in the air and smothering the two people who sat before the fire in a blanket of anticipation.
“Maggie, don’t deny us before we have a chance.” As Adam spoke, his breath warmed the skin behind her ear.
Maggie’s hands moved to cup his face, bringing it close. “Oh, Adam! I need you. I need you to comfort me... now.” Her last words were muffled by the desperate joining of their lips. As the first faint rays of dawn crept across the windowsill and rose tinted the light in the cabin, Adam and Maggie tried to deny their differences with impassioned lovemaking.
Later they stood at the window and watched the rising sun tint the forest with its changing rainbow of colors. Deep rose became a pale pink that finally gave way to brilliant gold.
Maggie rested her head against Adam’s shoulder and watched nature’s gorgeous color show. “The sun’s up.”
“Yes.” His arms tightened around her as if the approaching sun might snatch her away.
“It’s going to be a sunny day, Adam.”
They both knew what that meant. The sun would melt the snow, and they would no longer have an excuse for staying in their wonderful forest hideaway.
She turned in his arms, her face already filled with the pain of her leaving. “Let’s build a snowman.” Her words were almost a plea, a desperate attempt to continue the fantasy that she and Adam could live happily ever after in his snowbound cabin, shut away from proper bank meetings and improper belly-dancing, protected from hunters’ guns and horn-tooting causes.
“Before breakfast?” His smile was crooked as he gazed lovingly down at her.
Maggie arched her neck and gave him a Madonna smile, a smile that said she knew all the secrets of the world... except the one she needed most—how they could be together. “I find ‘before breakfast’ a good time for many activities.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Gloating.”
“You just saved yourself a severe drubbing in the snow.” She broke away from his arms and raced to the bedside chair to grab her borrowed jeans. “Last one outside is a rotten egg.”
She quickly fastened the jeans around her hips and bolted for the door a full minute before Adam. The sharp coolness of the morning air and the brilliance of the snow in the sun took her breath away. She stood on the porch, savoring the beauty, and then she jumped down the steps and hastily formed a snowball.
With feigned innocence she hid the snowball behind her back and waited for Adam. He bounded down the steps and scooped her up in his arms.
“Does the rotten egg get a kiss?” His blue eyes sparkled.
“No,” she said archly.
“Well, in that case”—he dumped her unceremoniously onto the snow—”let’s make a snowman.” Whistling nonchalantly, he turned his back to her and began rolling snow for the body.
“Adam.”
He looked back over his shoulder, and she lobbed the snowball right into his face. “Catch,” she yelled gleefully.
By the time they had finished the lopsided snowman and argued goodnaturedly over who’d won the snowball fight, the sun was high in the sky, and ice was melting off the trees.
Together they prepared a huge meal that he called breakfast and she called lunch. Outside they could hear water dripping off the eaves as the cover of snow and ice succumbed to the bright sun. Gaiety ran high as they devoured their food and tried not to think about tomorrow.
They spent the afternoon trekking through the forest, arm in arm, discovering the beauty of the woods as if it existed only for them. Their pleasure in their walk was tinged with sadness, and their hike was frequently interrupted by desperate embraces.
Once, when they neared the edge of the Tallahatchie River, Adam attempted to break through the wall of silence that Maggie had built around the subject of marriage.
“Marry me, Maggie. We can work things out.”
“No.” She looked at the muddy river meandering through the trees, its course already charted. If only she could be like the river. But she was only human, and she had to chart her own course. Right or wrong, she believed that she couldn’t chart her course with Adam’s. Two raging currents together would be devastating. “I just can’t.”
He caught her fiercely to his chest. “Stubborn Maggie.” His palms held her face and his thumbs gently traced her lips. “I’m not going to give up, you know.”
“Let it go, Adam. We’ve had our time together. We’ll have our memories.” How could she make such an asinine statement, when her heart was breaking in two? She tried to put on a brave smile so Adam wouldn’t see the depth of her struggle.
He released her and stared at the river. Suddenly he turned, and practically dragged her all the way back to the cabin. By the time he had kicked the door shut behind them, they were both shedding their clothes.
The late-day sun caressed their intertwined bodies as it poured through the west window of the cabin. Maggie raised herself onto one elbow and looked down into Adam’s face. Her hair fell across on
e side of her face and made a silken curtain on his shoulder.
“Remember when you swore to tame me?” With her free hand she traced the outline of his lips.
“Um-hmm.”
“I think you just did.”
“I’m going to remind you of that fifty years from now.” His voice was light and teasing, but his eyes studied Maggie.
Fifty years from now meant the two of them together. But it was an impossible dream, Maggie reminded herself. Why couldn’t Adam see that? Maggie climbed out of the cherry four poster, certain that nothing he could say could change her mind.
A light shudder ran through her as she donned Adam’s flannel shirt. This would be their last evening together, and both of them knew it. The sun had rapidly melted the snow and ice. By tomorrow morning the roads would be passable.
With her back still to Adam, Maggie let her hands linger on the soft flannel as she fastened the buttons. “I’ll miss your shirts.”
There was no reply from the bed. She buttoned the top button. And I’ll miss you. Most of all, I’ll miss you. “Are you hungry?” Still no reply. “I thought we could pop some corn by the fire. You do have a long-handled popper, don’t you?” She was chattering to cover the issue that haunted them both. “Do you know that in all the time we’ve been here we haven’t popped any corn by the fire? I don’t even know if you like yours with butter.”
She felt rather than saw Adam as he passed quietly by her on the way to the refrigerator. The firelight bronzed his bare back as he rummaged around. He emerged holding two steaks in his hands. “Man cannot live by love alone,” he quipped.
Relieved that he had chosen not to pursue the subject of marriage, Maggie smiled. “I’d watch out for stray thunderbolts if I were you,” she teased.
Their teasing set the tone for the rest of the evening. When, at last, the moon was riding high in the sky and the plaintive call of the owl sounded in the forest, Maggie and Adam snuggled contentedly in the four-poster, with nothing between them except their love.
o0o
“You really are determined to go?” Adam leaned against the mantle and studied Maggie.
“I thought I had already made myself clear.” She touched the side of Adam’s face with her fingertips, running them across the stubble of his beard. “Oh, Adam, don’t look at me like that.”
“How?”
“That look you have.” It was both possessive and predatory, the look of a man deeply in love, the look of a man determined not to be thwarted. “I won’t change my mind.”
“Neither will I.”
‘Then, I guess it’s a stalemate.”
“Stalemates can be broken.” The words were spoken solemnly, almost like a promise.
Maggie’s green eyes widened and changed as she looked at him. There was nothing quite like the power of a determined man in love. She sent a prayer winging upward that she would be able to get into her truck and turn the key, that she would be able to leave Adam Trent standing in the woods with his impossible dream. But most of all, she prayed that she could get around the bend in the road before she cried.
“I’m ready to go.” Her voice trembled when she spoke. She watched Adam’s face to see if he noticed. He did. His hands reached out to draw her to him.
“Maggie. My wild, willful Maggie.” His lips devoured hers, pleading, demanding that she change her mind. When at last he lifted his head, his eyes were the dark blue of storm clouds. “You’re my obsession, Maggie. I’ll never let you go.”
“You have no choice.” Maggie broke away from him and walked toward the door. “Coming?”
Silently they slogged over the slushy ground to her parked truck. Maggie looked wistfully around the forest and fought back the tears. Nothing would ever be the same for her again.
She watched as Adam laid pine boughs under the wheels of her truck and backed it out of the mud. She felt desolate and forlorn, but she knew that she was right. She loved Adam too much to marry him and let their differences destroy them.
Adam jumped down from the cab. His muddy jacket, which had sat in her truck for three days, was slung across his arm, and there was a tight line around his mouth. Suddenly, his arm snaked out and pulled her into his embrace, crushing her fiercely to his chest. “Stay.”
“No.” Staying would just be postponing the inevitable. A clean break was best. She clung to him a heartbreaking instant longer, and then she gently pushed herself out of his arms. “Goodbye, Adam.” Lifting her chin high, she marched bravely to her waiting truck.
The cold engine, which had been unused for three days, sputtered and backfired. “Come on,” she begged. “Don’t fail me now.” It coughed to life, and Maggie backed out of the forest.
Catching her trembling lower lip between her teeth, she watched Adam in the rearview mirror. He looked as rugged and solid as one of the great trees in the forest—and just as impassive. Only his eyes showed his pain. Maggie watched him until she rounded a bend in the road and he was out of sight.
And then the dam burst. The tears started as a small trickle and gained momentum until they were a river flooding her face. By the time she reached New Albany, she was crying so hard she had to pull over. “Shoot.” She beat her fists on the steering wheel. “Why does it have to be so hard?”
A state police car pulled up beside her, and a highway patrolman tapped on her window. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
She wiped her eyes with her fists and smiled tremulously at him through her tears. “Yes. I’m just... just... Oh, Adam!” The tears started anew.
“I don’t know who Adam is, but he needs his butt whipped for making a pretty little thing like you cry.” The patrolman’s face was puckered up with concern. He thrust a large, hairy hand into his trouser pocket. “Here. Take this.”
She took the handkerchief he offered and blew her nose. “Thank you. I didn’t have one.”
“You can keep it, ma’am.” He shoved his hat back on his gray hair and scratched his head. “Are you going to be all right now?”
Her lips quivered as she smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Well, you drive safe, now, you hear? And call somebody when you get home. It’s not good to be alone when you’re down in the dumps like that.”
“I will,” she promised. She pulled the pickup onto the road, and the fatherly patrolman lifted his hand in farewell. She gave him a small wave and headed home.
Maggie’s dogs were ecstatic when she stepped out other truck. They barked joyously and wagged their tails so hard she thought they would fall into a heap on the carport floor. Bending over, she hugged them. “Did you miss me?”
They licked her hands and face. Silly girl, they seemed to be saying, of course they had missed her. They followed her into the house and watched with interest as she went straight to the cabinet to get fresh food for their feeders. Taking care of her pets’ needs allowed Maggie to push Adam into a dark corner of her mind.
She chattered away to her pets, postponing the moment when she would have to face her problem. “I can tell that your feeder didn’t run out. And I see you’ve been hogging the food, as usual, Muffin.”
The lively animals soon lost interest in the lavish attentions of their mistress and wandered through their doggie door and into the fenced yard for more exciting pursuits. Maggie was left to face her heartbreak in her empty house.
Her Tiffany goblet winked at her from the kitchen windowsill, and she was reminded of how Adam’s eyes had looked in the firelight of the cabin. Biting the inside of her cheek, she took the goblet and thrust it to the back of a cabinet. She set her teapot on to boil, the simple routine providing a brief moment of sanity in the turmoil that threatened to swamp her. Had she been wrong? Already she was beginning to have doubts. If she had stayed, could they somehow have worked out their differences?
She paced restlessly as she waited for the water to boil. Her boots echoed hollowly in the empty house, empty of everything except memories. The bufflehead ducks above her mantel seemed to
fill her den. She flew back to the kitchen as if demons were pursuing her.
Snatching up the kitchen phone, she dialed her father. “Please be back.” The phone rang five times, and she had almost given up when she heard her father’s voice. “Dad, is that you?” She strained across the distance that separated them, seeking her father’s loving reassurance and support.
“Of course it is, darlin’. Who did you expect?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d be back from your cruise. Did you have fun?” Her voice broke on the last word. Fun was Adam in the snow. Adam in front of the fire. Adam covered with taffy.
“Maggie, are you all right? You sound peculiar.”
“I’m okay. I just wanted to see how...” Her voice broke and she struggled for composure. “Oh, Dad, I’m in love with Adam Trent.” She sniffed loudly into the receiver, trying to hold back the tears.
“Well, darlin’, you sound like it’s a catastrophe. Has he done something to hurt you?”
“He’s asked me to marry him.”
“Oh, I see.” There was silence at her father’s end of the line as he mulled over the situation. He knew very well that his daughter had opposed Adam bitterly over the past weeks. He also knew her stubborn nature and her loyalty and devotion to her causes. The struggle had to be costing her dearly. He longed to reach out and ease her pain, to share the wisdom born of experience and make her choice for her, but he knew that only Maggie could make that choice. “Follow your heart, Maggie.” He spoke the words softly, almost like a benediction.
“My heart is divided, Dad. I don’t know where it will lead me.”
“You’ll find out, darlin’. Just give yourself some time.”
Time. That was exactly what she needed. Time away from home, where even the teapot on the stove spoke eloquently of Adam. Its demanding whistle sounded from the kitchen.
“I think I’ll leave home for a few days, Dad. Go up to Gatlinburg and rent a ski chalet.”