Heat Wave (Riders Up)

by Adriana Kraft

  - o -

  “I can hardly believe it, Mom,” Carolyn giggled, standing next to her mother in the bathroom and fluffing her long blonde hair over and over. “A real date. I’m so nervous.”

  “We’ve talked a lot about boys,” Maggie began. She watched her daughter roll her eyes toward the ceiling.

  “Please, Mother. Not tonight.”

  “Oh, okay.” Maggie placed an arm around Carolyn’s shoulders. “I’m sure we haven’t left anything out. You’re a responsible young woman, and I hope you have lots of fun. Running gloss across her lips, she mumbled, “When is your date supposed to pick you up?”

  “Seven o’clock, but Bobbie Humphries was probably late for his own birth. No one in that family is ever on time.” Carolyn threw her mom a pained look and then smiled. “But he is the best wide receiver on the football team. And he chose me!”

  As Maggie added a touch of eyeliner to herself, she smiled at her delighted daughter. Her own memory was not so poor that she couldn’t remember her first date—a mixture of pure excitement and nagging fear.

  “How about your date, Mom? When is Ed picking you up?”

  Maggie saw color rise on her cheeks as she continued to examine herself in the mirror. She wasn’t used to dating, and she certainly was not used to imagining herself on a date going to the same dance as her daughter. But such was the way things were in a small community. It would be okay. She didn’t know which would be worse: trying not to pay too much attention to her daughter and Bobbie, or trying to ignore the stares and comments of her neighbors when they saw her being escorted by Ed Harrington.

  He had surprised her—no, shocked her. He’d hung around after breakfast one morning hemming and hawing until he finally blurted out, “I’d like it if you’d go with me to the Fall Festival Dance Saturday night.”

  Well, she’d expected that she would be taking him along. After all, it was a good opportunity for him to meet people. But he clearly intended on making something more of it than the two of them being at the same place at the same time and sharing the same vehicle for transportation.

  Ed had left no doubt in her mind—he’d said he was asking her for a date. Smiling, she remembered actually blushing before saying yes. “Good,” was his ecstatic response. Then he’d strolled out the door to the barn as if nothing important had transpired.

  And then the next morning a bouquet of yellow and red tulips greeted her on the dining room table. The card read: “Looking forward to Saturday night.”

  He’d warned her that it was time for some romance in her life, and he was certainly delivering.

  Flattered by his renewed attention, Maggie wondered if this meant that he was preparing to commit to her or whether he was simply physically well enough now to have some fun. Having a good time was okay with her, but they would be carrying on this romantic intrigue publicly, on her turf.

  While he might choose to walk away if things didn’t work out, she couldn’t. What would folks say if she was jilted by the drifting horse trainer, about whom many thought the worst? That Maggie Magee finally got burned, Mrs. McPherson would snipe with her nose turned up. That’s what happens to moths when they get too close to a flame, and that’s what happens to wayward women.

  “Mom, I asked when Ed would pick you up?”

  Maggie gave her daughter a blank look. “Oh, I’m sorry. Around seven thirty. We won’t go until we’re sure you’re on your way okay. And be home by midnight.”

  “Yes, Mom. How about you?” she teased, sticking her tongue out.

  “Carolyn!”

  “I know. Just wanted to make sure you were still listening. I’ve got to go put on my dress.”

  Maggie shook her head. Carolyn sure had a free spirit. Even give the anxiety of a first date, she remained confident and eager. Sighing at her own reflection in the mirror, Maggie wished she could be so carefree and confident.

  Did he plan on them making love? Would he take her to the loft? Should she invite him to her bedroom?

  Why did she suddenly feel so out of control? Trying to rub the chills from her bare arms, Maggie shrugged at her image in the mirror. A strap of her slip fell away, nearly baring a breast. She closed her eyes and felt his lips nuzzling her skin. His teeth pulled the thin fabric away and her erect nipples strained under the caresses of his tongue and lips.

  Shaking, Maggie opened her eyes wide. She leaned against the vanity. Her entire body was on edge. Heat gnawed at her loins. The uncertainty of the evening had her coiled like a tight spring.

  Romance was supposed to be lovely and delicious. Then why did she feel so imperiled? It was only a dance. It wasn’t like he held her life in his hands.

  Frantically, she brushed her hair. She felt like a billiard ball completely at the whim of the careening cue ball. Maggie laughed aloud—it must be tough being a billiard ball, especially if you were used to being the cue ball. She tried to imagine what her personal cue ball was up to. A whisper of a smile flitted across her lips. Was he as nervous as she was? Or was he simply taking the evening in stride?

  - o -

  Ed buttoned his dress shirt feeling quite pleased with himself. He’d thrown Maggie off balance a time or two. She hadn’t expected his formal request for a date, and she certainly had not known what to say about the flowers. She’d been flustered, and he liked that. Her vulnerability needed to surface more often, or she’d give him a complex for sure. Maggie was so in control—of herself, and too often of him. There were occasions when he wondered just how much her pride was covering up. She’d known a lot of pain and loss, but she always seemed to pull herself together and hold up her chin, prepared to take on the next hurdle. Ed tugged at the string tie. The woman had to be more vulnerable than she let on.

  God knew he was vulnerable enough—maybe enough for both of them. Yet, he’d come a long way. Seldom did he have the classic drinking nightmare anymore, where he’d wake up sweating because he dreamed he’d fallen off the wagon. Even most crises didn’t cause him to shake. Still, he never underestimated the risk of drink and its danger to his life. Chaos remained only one drink away. He was determined never to test that theory.

  Maggie Anderson had thrown him a lifeline, but it was his own hand that had reached out and grabbed what was offered. And now he was beginning to think he might actually have a life to look forward to again. He wanted that life to include Maggie, but he still wasn’t sure how that could happen. Maybe he’d just try to be her escort for a while and see where that led.

  Tongues would wag, that was for sure. But then they were already wagging. He and Maggie both deserved some fun. They worked hard. She was driven to save the land, and he guessed he was driven to leave his past behind. In order to have some fun, they’d have to get away from the farm now and then. Could he ever get away from his past?

  He hadn’t formally asked a woman for a date in years. Whatever had possessed him to do so now was beyond his comprehension. They could’ve just gone to the festival together, and his nerves would be less jumbled. What did she expect of him? Would she want him to take her to his bed?

  Ed shivered. Damn, he’d always hated dating as a kid. And his entire adult life was made up of a smattering of one night stands; not a lot of confusion there. But Maggie was not a one night stand—never was, never would be. And he certainly wouldn’t want her any other way.

  Grabbing his billfold and keys off the night stand, Ed glanced around briefly. The place looked orderly enough, not that Maggie would mind a mess particularly. He wasn’t certain that taking her to bed was such a good idea. They needed time—well, at least he needed time—to sort things out bit by bit. Glancing down at his arousal, he realized that part of him required no more time for sorting.

  The red numerals on the digital clock gave him his immediate marching orders. “Well, little lady,” he drawled, picking up his Stetson, “guess it’s time to see where this dancing thing takes us. Romance I promised, and romance it will be.” With a swagger in his step that he hadn’t f
elt for a long spell, Ed made his way down the loft steps and across the driveway toward his quarry.

  “My, my,” Ed said, appreciating what he saw when Maggie greeted him at the door. “Carolyn informed me if I was getting you a corsage that it had to be for the wrist. I didn’t tell her I’d never buy a woman a flower to cover up her breast, particularly if we were going dancing. But…you look spectacular.”

  “Thank you,” Maggie shyly demurred, turning around slowly before his gaze.

  His eyes swept over her body. She wore a baby blue dress, matching her eyes. It clung to her shapely curves like a well fitted glove. Tiny shoulder straps held it up while showing suggestive soft cleavage. If she wore a bra, it was sure hard to tell. The dress stopped well above her knees; he figured the slit in its left side was the only thing that enabled her to move some. Tiny pearl earrings and a matching choke collar made her appear somehow more feminine.

  He’d never seen her in heels before. These were low and matched the color of her dress. They looked practical, well suited for dancing. Maggie remained a sensible woman, but was still the sexiest female he’d ever seen.

  Carolyn was right—there was only room for a wrist corsage, and he liked it that way. He hoped he didn’t appear too eager.

  - o -

  Maggie bit her lower trembling lip while carefully placing the corsage on her wrist. She had to slow down her heartbeat somehow. He’d surprised her again. A corsage. And an orchid, at that. It looked so fragile. She sniffled, trying to hold back tears. At thirty-four, she’d just received her first orchid. She peered up at Ed. Could her body and soul withstand much more romancing?

  “I guess we’d better go,” she managed to say. “Carolyn was picked up fifteen minutes ago, and I deposited Johnny at Adam’s house late this afternoon.”

  She took a step toward the doorway and then stopped. “No, not yet. I’ve got to tell you, Ed,” she said, reaching for his hands, “you look terribly handsome tonight. You look nothing like that shadow of a man I remember meeting on the sidewalk in front of the Resting Arms. You must’ve gained at least twenty pounds since then—and all of it in the right places, I might add.” Her small hand squeezed his hard bicep.

  Ed flinched. “Must be all the good food and hard work,” he finally mumbled.

  “And determination on your part. I’m so proud of what you’ve been able to do. I know it’s not been easy, particularly when things go badly.”

  “I used to believe alcohol was a friend in my times of greatest need. It blotted out the memories. Now I know it was my worst enemy.” Ed sighed and grabbed Maggie’s hand. Tugging gently, he said, “Let’s get out of here before we get too mushy. I want this to be a fun evening.”

  “Me too,” she agreed quickly, flashing him a smile. With her nerves tightly under wraps, Maggie said gaily, “Lead on, Sir Knight, your damsel awaits your command.”

  Ed laughed while offering her a deep bow. “That’ll be the day.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Beaverhill High School gym doubled as a community social hall. With its bleachers folded against the walls, Ed thought the gym looked like most any small town high school gym characteristic of the Midwest. Autumn decorations of brown and orange crepe paper hung from the basketball hoops and from the ceiling. Fall leaves and shocks of corn stalks decorated a corner of the room. A few oddly shaped pumpkins that had survived the summer’s heat sat on the stage next to the five-member band.

  Band members ranged in age from maybe thirty to seventy. He’d been told the four men and one woman were quite versatile performing pieces from the thirties to the present. As long as there was plenty of country and soft rock and roll, he’d be satisfied.

  Ed sensed the tension gnawing at Maggie as soon as they entered the building. At first she seemed uneasy to meet anyone in the eye. When he reached for her hand, her palm was sweaty. In a matter of minutes though, she’d relaxed.

  Smiling as if she possessed a secret, she introduced him to old friends and neighbors. There was plenty of small talk about the welcomed change in the weather, poor crops, and getting by. A few folks asked him about Maggie’s horses, but most didn’t broach the topic. And none asked about what might be going on between him and his beautiful boss.

  Most of the party-goers sat at cloth-covered card tables. As soon as he and Maggie entered the gym they’d been spied and waved at by Ben Templeton. Clearly they’d been expected.

  Ed liked Ben. He was genuinely interested in their horse business, but he didn’t pry. And he had a dry sense of humor that many probably missed. Ben had invited a widower, Gladys Mays, to join him for the evening. He’d whispered something to Maggie about taking his own advice. Maggie’s cheeks had pinkened in response, but neither she nor Ben had provided further elaboration.

  “So what do you think or our little town, Ed?” Templeton asked, lifting a glass of punch to his lips.

  “Seems like most small communities, I guess. I’m from Clarion—but you probably knew that. There’s good and bad in small and large. I do appreciate the relative quiet and slower pace.”

  “That’s true enough. Say, that was quite an article in the paper a while back. Do you think our Maggie is going to succeed in the horse business?”

  Ed glanced at Maggie, who sat beside him listening intently. He smiled. “I think Maggie will succeed in whatever she sets her mind to.

  Templeton nodded. “Think you’re likely right about that.”

  “Right now,” Maggie said, reaching for Ed’s hand, “I simply want to succeed at dancing. If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like a partner.”

  “I’m willing,” Ed declared, looking into those sparkling eyes. He didn’t fail to notice Templeton’s eyebrow flash and approving smile at Maggie’s vague use of the word partner.

  With a hand resting on her back, Ed guided her to the dance floor. Somehow in that brief moment he’d passed inspection by one of Maggie’s oldest mentors and protectors.

  It was a slow song, just the kind he liked best. They moved together easily. She snuggled against him with one hand holding his at his chest and the other resting on his shoulder. He encircled her waist, holding her tight and resting his chin on top of her head. Ed breathed deeply of her scent as they glided gracefully, oblivious to others on the floor.

  Seemingly without skipping a beat the music changed to a Texas two step. With ease, Ed quickened the pace and Maggie followed as if she’d been following him all her life.

  Leaning back to look at him in surprise, Maggie chided, “Thought you said you couldn’t dance.”

  Ed grinned. “Sometimes I’m overly modest. Knowing that should keep you guessing.”

  “I think you like to keep me guessing,” she teased, laying her head back on his chest.

  He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding. It was so easy to imagine her scrunched up against his body forever. Damn, he’d missed making love with Maggie; mostly he missed simply holding her and being held by her.

  “Keeping you off balance is the only way I’m going to have a chance,” he muttered, twirling her about as if she were a rag doll.

  - o -

  As Ed escorted her back to their table, Maggie noticed a few individuals staring at them with disdain, but she didn’t care. This was good. Taking time to dance, to have some fun, to be together. It was the right thing to do.

  Thank God Ben had suggested bringing Ed to social functions. Sometimes you had to get away from the land, or it would wear you down.

  Some who stared were simply curious about him—and probably about her, too. There’d been a few questions about the horses. No one had yet claimed she was insane, although a few likely thought it. It was good to see old friends; she had been neglecting some of those relationships. With the approach of winter, the pace at the farm would likely slow down and there would be more time for catching up on social happenings.

  Mildred Woodson grabbed her arm. Maggie stopped and smiled at her old friend, dressed in a brightly colored muumuu.
She’d never been able to control her weight and had apparently given up on trying. They’d known each other since they were in diapers. Mildred’s smile was radiant.

  “I hope this means we’ll see more of you at church,” Maggie heard her say. “I’ve missed you, Maggie. Too much work is bad for you.”

  “I know, Mildred. I’ll be around more. Johnny should start confirmation in January. I’ve missed seeing you, too. Oh, this is Ed. He…”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Mildred said, pumping Ed’s hand in greeting. “I read about you in the paper. I’m sure pleased that Maggie found you. She needs a steadying influence from time to time.” Her eyes were full of mischief. “Bye now. See you, Maggie.”

  Watching in disbelief, Maggie shook her as Mildred squeezed her way between chairs making her way to the desert table.

  She redirected her attention to Ed, who stood there belly laughing.

  “A steadying influence? Maybe on a horse, but I don’t think anyone has ever described me in that manner regarding a woman.”

  Annoyed, Maggie didn’t know if she should laugh or scream. The idea that she needed a steadying influence! Mildred must have been remembering their junior high school days. Admittedly, she’d been a little wild then, but now there wasn’t time for adventure. And she didn’t want Ed to think she was used to cavorting around like someone who required being reined in. Then, she recalled her efforts at seducing him. She blinked. Her thighs warmed as she remembered his probing fingers that night in his loft and her brazen attempt at cooling off in the kitchen.

  She headed for their table. She could use a cool drink with plenty of ice cubes.

  After they sat down, Carolyn brought her date by to say hello.

  “Good evening, again, Ms. Anderson,” Bobby Humphries mumbled, shifting his weight from foot to foot.