Heat Wave (Riders Up)

by Adriana Kraft

  “I’m having a great time,” Carolyn buzzed. “Are you?”

  “I’m glad.” Maggie gulped the cooling punch. “Yes, I am. A delightful time.” Maggie glanced at her watch and then at Ed. How soon could they leave? They had until midnight, when Carolyn would be back.

  “What about you, Ed?” Carolyn asked.

  Maggie was a little embarrassed that Carolyn couldn’t better conceal her pleasure in seeing the two of them together. Anyone watching would certainly know that the teenage daughter posed no problem for her mother and her hired hand.

  Ed winked at Carolyn. “Couldn’t be better. Thanks for all the advice.”

  “Right,” she smirked. “I can see you didn’t need any. I knew you’d be a terrific dancer. And the corsage is so beautiful.”

  “Well, we better be getting back to our table,” interjected Bobby. “I’ll have her home by midnight. You can count on that.”

  “Great,” Maggie said, trying to be as serious as the boy.

  After the young couple was out of hearing, Maggie whispered in Ed’s ear, “I’m surprised Bobby can drive. He looks much more nervous than Carolyn. I’m pleased about that.”

  “Oh,” Ed whispered back, “is the male supposed to be a nervous wreck to inspire confidence?”

  “Only for mothers.”

  “Oh.” Ed’s eyes danced brightly. “Then this Sir Knight doesn’t need to sheath his sword and put on a subservient act in order to win his damsel’s favors.”

  Maggie couldn’t control the tremble in her lips. She bit her tongue and then leaned closer to his ear. “Have you thought about possibly unsheathing your sword before it gets rusty? We have two hours before Carolyn gets home.”

  His body jerked. His jaw strained. She knew he could feel the heat of her words swirling in his ear.

  - o -

  Before he could respond to Maggie’s suggestion, a voice reminding him of fingernails on a chalkboard interrupted his erotic musings.

  “So this must be the mysterious rogue about whom I’ve been hearing so much.”

  Ed turned to see a thin, smallish woman with steel gray hair glaring at him. If the woman ever smiled, he expected her lips would crack.

  “Ah,” Templeton bellowed from across the table, “I wondered how long it would take you to sniff out our foursome. Ed, may I introduce you to Mrs. Mary Jane McPherson, who prides herself on knowing all there is to know about Beaverhill, and then some.”

  Ed nodded. He appreciated Templeton’s attempt to buffer what could be an embarrassing situation for Maggie. He figured it was the then some that they had to worry about. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said warmly, not giving away his feelings of distaste and distrust. “Hope you’re enjoying yourself this evening. I know I am.”

  “Don’t have time to enjoy myself, young man. Never do. Enjoyment is for those who have no motivation or sense of duty.”

  “Guess that must include everybody here but you, Mary Jane,” Templeton commented smoothly. Turning to Ed, he confided, “In case you didn’t know it, Mrs. McPherson isn’t here to enjoy herself. No sir, she’s working on her weekly newspaper column, and on keeping the oral communication channels well greased.”

  “You’re an evil man, Ben Templeton.”

  Ed watched Mrs. McPherson stand even more rigid, her eyes boring into Ben.

  “You were evil as a child, and still are.”

  “Now then, Mrs. Anderson,” she called out imperiously, “tell me about this scheme of yours to raise race horses. What a ghastly business for a young lady to involve herself in!”

  Maggie, who had been chuckling at the interplay between Templeton and McPherson, stiffened her back and spoke softly, “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid. Ed does most of the work with the horses, though he is coaching me and the kids. And the horses currently racing are being trained by friends in Chicago.”

  “Well, you certainly seemed to have developed a batch of new friends of late. What does Greta Anderson think about her daughter-in-law mucking stalls? Or her grandchildren, for that matter?”

  Maggie blanched. Ed knew she was drawing on every ounce of her strength to remain calm.

  “I don’t know,” Maggie managed to say. “Not that I particularly care. You’d have to ask her.”

  “You don’t seem to care about a lot of things that affect your reputation,” Mrs. McPherson sniped, looking down the tip of her beak-like nose. “I don’t know how you can let…someone like this,” she sputtered, gesturing toward Ed, “live on your property. You, a widower. And with a susceptible teenage daughter.”

  As the woman worked her mouth, trying to catch her breath, Ed clinched his fists, but before he could utter a word, he heard Maggie’s icy voice.

  “Mrs. McPherson, I believe your concern is misplaced. I’m quite capable of making decisions about how I will live my life. And my children’s interests are always a high priority for me.”

  “Humph, you don’t seem to be thinking straight now,” Mrs. McPherson retorted. “I have a mind to talk to child protective services.”

  Ed grabbed Maggie’s arm as she rose out of her chair with a stricken look on her face. Ben Templeton’s mouth fell open.

  Maggie sat back down in her seat, clearly still fighting to quell her anger. Ed wanted to defend her, but he knew this was Maggie’s battle and she would not appreciate his interference.

  “Mrs. McPherson, I hope you aren’t serious. But if you are,” Maggie paused and then spoke sharply, “you need to know that if you do anything…anything…to harm my children, I will see that your reputation is irreparably harmed. You will lose whatever meager status you have left in this community as the keeper of high morals.”

  Gasping, Mrs. McPherson flung a trembling hand to her throat. “Well, my word, threatening an old woman like me. What do you mean by that?”

  “Just remember, I am my father’s daughter.” Maggie smiled thinly. “I have all his mementos. All of them. Do you recall Roses are red and violets are blue…?”

  “Oh, my goodness.” Mrs. McPherson grabbed hold of the table edge, barely maintaining her balance.

  Ed thought the woman was about to faint. But she revived.

  “Like your father, Maggie Magee, you have a tendency to over-react. I didn’t mean to threaten you or your children in any way. I only had the best interest of your family in mind.”

  “Of course, Mrs. McPherson,” Maggie responded smoothly. “And I appreciate that.”

  Ed frowned trying to figure out what had just transpired. Mrs. McPherson’s sweet words didn’t match the undisguised hostility on her face. And there seemed little doubt that his Maggie was a blackmailer. She had something on the old gossip, and it must be good—damn good.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. McPherson offered meekly, preparing to make her exit. “I do hope you’ll like our town and will be pleased to call it home.”

  “I surely am pleased to do that, Mrs. McPherson,” Ed drawled. “Now you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  He felt the heat of Mrs. McPherson’s withering glare before she turned and walked rapidly away.

  Ed covered Maggie’s shaking hand with his own. “Wow,” he ventured to no one in particular, “poisonous snakes can be friendlier than that. Does the woman have a husband?”

  “Not anymore,” Ben explained. “She no doubt henpecked Jethro to an early grave.”

  Maggie snuggled against the warmth of Ed’s body as the truck made its way toward home.

  “So what do you have on old McPherson?” Ed asked. “It must be a powder keg, the way that woman backpedaled.”

  Maggie nodded. It had started to rain as they headed out of town toward the farm—far too late to save any crops, but welcome nonetheless. Raindrops pelting the cab made her believe for a moment that they were encased in their own small world, impervious to what others thought or said.

  Maggie sighed. “You bet I do.”

  “Well?”

  “You won’t
tell?”

  “Of course not. She means nothing to me.”

  “Okay. Apparently, she and Dad were an item back in high school before he got involved with my mom. In fact, they made it during a church camp between their junior and senior years.”

  Ed blinked. “You mean…Mrs. McPherson and your dad. Together. In bed.”

  “I don’t actually know about whether it happened on a bed, or a floor, or on the ground, but they knew each other carnally, shall we say.” She couldn’t contain her glee.

  “Wow! And you have proof.”

  “Uh, huh. Dad gave me what are supposedly a pair of Mary Jane’s panties. But most damning is a note she sent him in her own handwriting. I have it stashed in a box, and in my memory. It goes like this:

  “Dear Colt, my love,

  Roses are red and violets are blue.

  You are the absolute best in bed; my loins ache for you.

  I can’t wait to feel your colt tickling my insides again.

  Maybe on the way home from school. Or after church Sunday.

  Tell me when. I’m more than ready.

  Love, Mary Jane N.

  “Naylor was her maiden name. Dad told me to hold onto that note because I might need it someday. Mary Jane never forgave him for leaving her for Mom. As she aged, she seemed to become even more vindictive. And Dad wouldn’t have put it past her to direct her resentment at me or the children someday. Giving me the note was his way of protecting me, I suppose.”

  “And you never let on about it until tonight?”

  “Nope.”

  Chuckling, Ed said, “Seems like your parents stirred up a hornet’s nest when they up and eloped. And people in Beaverhill have very long memories.”

  Maggie nodded in agreement. “Some of them sure do.”

  “And you really are a chip off the old block, or so the old saying goes. No wonder folks are ambivalent about you. They’re just worried waiting to see what you’ll dredge up next.”

  “Yeah, and some must wonder how many secrets I really do know,” Maggie whispered, nestling tighter against his body. “I like it that way.”

  Drenched from dashing through the heavy rain, Maggie stood in the middle of her kitchen confused and cold. Tension hung between the two of them like a heavy blanket. He hadn’t invited her to the loft. She kept reminding herself that it was his call. He had to take the initiative; that was their agreement. She was sure he’d been ready to love her again before old biddy McPherson stopped by.

  Would he even kiss her? It had been a lovely evening, and now she was acting like an inexperienced teenager again. She looked quickly at the sullen man, who seemed as out of place in her kitchen as she felt. Oh my, they were making puddles where they had first made love.

  “Wonder if she’s home yet?” Ed grumbled, obviously out of sorts, holding his Stetson with both hands.

  “Huh?”

  “Carolyn. Hope that Humphries kid is more reliable than he looks.”

  “Oh.” Maggie brushed rain out of her slick hair. Good God, he’d remembered Carolyn before she had. Her little girl was still out there in that storm. She rubbed warmth back into her bare arms. Clearly neither she nor Ed had a will for romance tonight. Such was the nature of parental responsibilities.

  “If you can wait a minute, I’ll brew some coffee,” she said. “I’ve got to get out of this wet dress. Why aren’t you as wet as me?”

  “Something to be said for a broad brimmed Stetson, I guess. Go ahead and change—I’ll start the coffee.”

  - o -

  As Ed measured out the scoops of coffee, his mind jumped from thought to thought. How could Maggie put up with such nasty people as Mary Jane McPherson? Would the woman leave her alone if he weren’t in the picture? Probably not.

  What was keeping Maggie so long changing clothes? He tried without success not to imagine her upstairs slipping out of the wet dress, rubbing herself dry with a thick towel, and slipping into something soft and warm. He glanced down at the sink only to be startled because the pot he was filling was running over with water. “Damn,” he groused. “She’s like a sand burr that refuses to get unstuck.”

  “And where are those kids?” Ed slammed the pot in the coffee maker just before the hot liquid began to pour out. He hadn’t realized how time could be so excruciatingly slow. He’d watched races that seemed to move in slow motion, but this waiting was even more painful. Where the hell had those two bonehead teenagers disappeared to? It was twelve-thirty in the morning.

  “Thanks for making the coffee.”

  Ed jumped back from the counter. He hadn’t heard Maggie come down the stairs. Looking over at her, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. There she stood with a long pink robe buttoned up to the base of her neck. On her feet were the most god-awful slippers he’d ever seen. Were they supposed to be squirrels or rabbits? Pink rabbits, he assumed, given the long ears.

  He started to speak, but couldn’t. He wanted to take her in his arms, but didn’t.

  Maggie moved toward him like some wood spirit he’d read about as a kid. She floated, making no noise. Her hand touched his chest. A hot iron couldn’t have seared more.

  “She’s a half hour late,” he grumbled.

  Maggie winced. “Damn, don’t you think I know that?” She chewed on her lower lip. Worry lines stretched her brow. “I hope they haven’t had trouble on these slick roads. I don’t think they’d deliberately break Carolyn’s curfew.”

  “No,” Ed concurred. “Looked to me like the boy wanted to please you so much he would have had her home and hour early if he could’ve.”

  Moving to the table with a cup of coffee, Maggie sat down only to immediately jump up and begin to pace. “It’s hard letting them go, letting them try their own wings. You want to hold onto them, to protect them from all that’s out there, but you can’t. You can try, but in the end, you can’t.”

  Ed sat in a chair at the table, from which he would see any headlights turning into the driveway. “Well, that kid she’s with better have a damn good excuse.”

  Before Maggie’s hard stare, Ed dropped his gaze. His right knee bobbed up and down and his hands quivered as they cradled the coffee cup.

  “Ed,” she admonished, “don’t you be thinking about getting in the middle of this. If something needs sorting out, I’ll do the sorting.”

  He nodded at her blankly. “You’re right, Maggie. I’m kind of a spare tire here. Guess I ought to be hauling my ass off to bed.”

  Maggie gasped. “I didn’t mean it that way. I need and want your support, particularly now.” She hesitated, then plopped down in her chair, taking a gulp of the coffee. “This is all new for me, too. Having a dating teenager. Having a man I care about. I just don’t want you to do some crazy macho thing with the boy.” She sniffled. “Can’t you just hold me?”

  All of Ed’s emotions drained into a single puddle. Without speaking, he stood. She rose to meet him. He placed his arms around Maggie tightly, as if she might evaporate. Her fingers dug into his back, but he wasn’t about to complain. His chest muffled the sounds of her sobbing. He stroked her back in small concentric circles.

  Bending, he kissed her hair. Lifting her chin with a finger, he covered her lips with his. Her lips were wet, her mouth warm. He kept the kiss gentle, yet prolonged. This was no prelude to sex. His body shook as he recognized it for what it was—a prelude to love.

  Maggie’s body likewise shook in his arms. Was it simply fear for her children? As her tongue slithered into his mouth, he had her answer. Yet she, too, seemed fully satisfied with the kiss. No more was needed.

  At last breaking the seal, he whispered, “Everything will be okay.” He continued to massage her back.

  “I know,” she replied. “I’m just tired of waiting.”

  “I think I hear a car slowing down now.”

  Moving away from the comfort of his body, Maggie rushed to the porch with Ed right behind her. Sure enough, the Humphries’ car was inching down the driveway.

/>   - o -

  “I’m sorry to worry you, Mom,” Carolyn said, immediately hugging her mother. Quickly moving on to hug Ed, she explained, “We had a flat on Highway Twenty Six and Bobby had to change the tire in a downpour.”

  Maggie looked at Bobby for the first time, as if he hadn’t been standing there from the moment Carolyn entered. She saw a totally soaked and very muddy young man.

  “There’s no doubt you’ve been playing around in the mud,” Ed acknowledged.

  “Come on into the kitchen, Bobby. Let me make you something hot to drink and dry you off some,” Maggie offered.

  “No thanks, Ma’am,” the boy replied. “I best be getting on home. My folks will be worried something fierce. The car heater works.”

  “Okay. I understand. And I’ll call them so they won’t have to worry anymore.”

  Maggie called the Humphries as Bobby drove out the driveway.

  “What a night!” Carolyn chirped gleefully. “My first date! Bobby could use some dancing lessons, but my toes made it. Jackie Hennessey said all her date could do was stomp on her feet. So much for football players being agile. And then the flat tire…I was so afraid you’d be mad.”

  “Those things happen. But not on every date,” Maggie cautioned.

  “It sure is hard making conversation with a boy for an entire night.”

  Maggie laughed. Ed choked on his coffee.

  “Well, it wasn’t so bad at the dance. There were other girls to talk with, but alone in the car…” Carolyn rolled her eyes.

  “I’m not sure that’ll get much better,” Maggie observed, glancing in Ed’s direction. “Men seem to like to listen to themselves think a lot.”

  She grinned at Ed who was making a show of trying to ignore her.

  “And then with the flat and all and having to rush right in, he didn’t even try to kiss me,” Carolyn complained, crossing her arms over her chest.

  It was Ed’s turn to laugh. “Don’t want to disappoint you, but, looking at the lad, I don’t think he would’ve tried that on a first date anyway.”