Maggie’s eyes narrowed as she peered at Blaze over her aunt’s shoulder, his and Finn’s laughter a little too loud as they headed Maggie’s way.
One guess.
“Good game, ladies,” Blaze said with a wink at Maggie. He leaned close to her ear, the warmth of his whispered words giving her cold chills. “Just not good enough, Nightingale.”
“Who wants seconds on dessert?” Gert called from the back door, and a crescendo of male assent rose to the sky as they all filed inside.
All but one.
Ushering Libby to the house, Finn turned when Blaze and Maggie didn’t follow. “Aren’t you two coming? I would have thought you worked up quite an appetite after three do-or-die games.”
Maggie gulped. Well, I suspect one of us has …
“Nope,” Blaze said with a loose hook of Maggie’s waist, “I promised Maggie a picnic.”
Finn glanced up at the darkening sky. “In the dark?”
“No sir, by lamplight and moonlight, just inside the barn by the door.” Blaze gave a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “Gert packed us a basket with dessert.”
“Why, that sounds very romantic!” Libby said with a bright smile. She glanced up at Finn with a sparkle in her eyes. “Maybe you can teach your uncle a thing or two.”
Maggie swallowed a gulp. Oh, no doubt about that …
Finn’s smile took a tilt. “Sure, Blaze, make me look bad, why don’t you.” He shook his head as he led Libby up to the porch, turning at the top step. Eyes in a squint, he pointed a finger at his nephew. “Don’t be too late, son, and make sure you’re on your best behavior, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Blaze said with a sharp nod, “you have my word.” With a light squeeze of Maggie’s waist, he guided her in the direction of the barn.
His best behavior. Maggie sucked in a deep breath. But by whose definition?
His or mine?
CHAPTER FIFTY
“Close your eyes, darlin’,” Blaze whispered, the touch of Maggie’s skin like silk as he grazed a gentle finger down her cheek. He carefully pressed her shoulders to the wall at the end of the barn while the moon kept guard, its soft light highlighting the nervous nibble of her lip. The comforting scent of horses and hay filled the air until Blaze stepped in closer, his senses suddenly heady with the clean scent of lavender. Somewhere an owl hooted, harmonizing with the cadence of crickets and katydids to create a summer symphony he hoped would ease the worry lines in Maggie’s brow.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a butterscotch candy and tenderly pressed it against her lips, the catch of her breath slowly blooming into a beautiful smile as she opened her eyes.
“You’ve been to Mort’s,” she whispered, the glow of the moon illuminating her beautiful face. Gaze sparkling, she quickly sucked the candy from his hand, and a slow fire ignited when her mouth grazed his finger. “I’ve been lost for weeks since Mort’s supply ran out.”
“I know.” He leaned in to tenderly fondle her lips with his own, the taste of butterscotch and Maggie calling him home. “And I’ve been lost for years and didn’t know it until I met you.”
Her husky giggle tickled his lips as he opened his eyes, an impish smile teasing him while she sucked on the candy. “Excuse me, sir, but I believe it was your clothes that were lost.”
Grinning, he dove for her neck with a growl, eliciting a tiny squeal as her shoulders lifted in a scrunch. “Oh, that’s right,” he said, suddenly lost in the clean scent of her skin as he buried tiny kisses at the nape of her neck, “you were responsible for one of the greatest humiliations of my life, Nurse Flo, so perhaps you should make amends.”
Her chuckle was pure mischief as she nudged him away. “Oh no, you did that all on your own, mister, so perhaps the amends need to be made to everyone who saw you traipsing around town in that sheet …” Her neck bobbed as she swallowed the candy and held out her hand. “More, please, because I believe you owe me for the most games won this week.”
He tucked another candy into her mouth with a wayward grin, finger lingering to skim her lower lip “Ah, yes, but I believe you have a debt as well, yes?”
The smile faded, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her nose. “Maggie, I love you,” he whispered, cradling her face in his hands, “and I would never hurt you.” He cupped the back of her neck, grazing his thumb against the nape as he searched her face with a tender gaze. “Don’t you know that?”
She gave a jerky nod, but the knot that ducked in her throat told a different story, dimming his good mood. All he wanted was to spend some time alone with her, hold her …
Her stomach growled and a pretty blush dusted her cheeks as she moved to the moonlit space just outside the barn door. She turned to face him with a tentative smile, hands clasped in expectation. “So … where’s our picnic?”
He strolled forward and twined his hand with hers, grinning while he led her to a ladder she’d never noticed before. “It’s waiting for us up in the hayloft … along with a bag of butterscotch, so shall we?”
He motioned to the ladder, but she merely took a step back, arms to her waist. “Blaze, I’m … not sure this is such a great idea …”
“Maggie.” He placed his hands on her shoulders with a sober look. “It’s a simple picnic of dessert and lemonade and a bag of butterscotch, darlin’.” He ducked to peer into her eyes with a tender look. “I just want to spend time alone with you, that’s all. Is that so wrong?”
She gave him a shaky smile. “Well, no … as long as you’re on your best behavior like you promised Finn …”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hand over his heart, he gave her a solemn look despite the tug of a smile, thinking she was so darn cute when she was suspicious.
Her bodice rose and fell. “All right.” She wagged a stern finger in his face despite the hint of tease in her tone, “but if you don’t, just remember it’s a hard fall from the loft window to the ground.”
He grinned while he guided her with a hand to her back. “Yes, ma’am.”
The evening was all he hoped it would be. Maggie’s gasp of a surprise when she’d seen the quilt he’d laid out by the window—complete with wild flowers in a canning jar and a shaft of moonlight—made his heart near burst with pride. The candle lantern he’d lit and placed next to the flowers flickered and danced like the merriment in her eyes as they talked and laughed while eating Gert’s cobbler. He’d never gone to this much trouble for any woman, but then Maggie wasn’t just any woman he’d realized over the last month—she was the one he intended to marry.
Eventually.
“More cobbler?” he asked when she’d finished her second piece, packing up the tin of remaining dessert and crock of lemonade in the basket Gert had put together.
She waved him off with a palm to her stomach, handing him her fork and plate. “Goodness, I couldn’t eat another thing, Blaze, honestly.”
“Now why do I find that so hard to believe?” he said with a grin, tucking her dirty dishes away before plopping a bag of butterscotch in front of her with a wicked grin.
She giggled as she fumbled with the tie on the small burlap bag. “I guess you know me a little too well.”
“That I do, Nightingale.” He set the basket, flowers, and lantern aside in order to scoot over and stretch out on the blanket beside her, head propped on his elbow. His tone lowered to husky as he nodded to the bag of candy, his gaze never leaving her face. “Just like I know I want to spend the rest of my life supplying you with butterscotch, Maggie, if you’ll let me.”
“Oh, Blaze …” A sweet smile trembled on her lips while she untied the bag the rest of the way, and digging her fingers in, she gasped as she reached for a candy. “What in the world …?” Mouth agape, she pulled out the little velvet box he’d tucked inside.
“It belonged to my grandmother.” His voice was almost reverent as he reached to graze a finger across the soft green velvet of the antique jewelry box. Finn had given it to him when he’d graduated from college to keep
for his future wife. “Open it,” he whispered.
Her fingers shook as she lifted the lid, and instantly, another gasp popped out.
“Uncle Finn said I should give it to the woman I intended to marry one day, so I am.” Carefully lifting his grandmother’s silver cross and necklace from the box, he rose to kneel behind Maggie, gently brushing her silky hair aside before grazing a kiss to her nape. He clasped the jewelry around her neck.
“Oh my goodness!” She spun around to throw her arms around him, nearly melting his heart when she burrowed into him with tears in her eyes. “It’s beautiful!”
“Maybe,” he said with a light skim of his thumb across her lips, “but it can’t hold a candle to the woman wearing it.” He bent in to nuzzle her mouth, the taste of her making him wish he could marry her tomorrow. But just as quickly, a sudden shiver cooled some of the heat flashing through him, reminding him of one very important fact.
I’m just not ready.
Jumping up, he placed several hay bales close to the window, then draped part of the quilt over them so they could sit and savor the stars. He extended a hand. “Sit with me, Maggie? I know it’s getting late and we need to go in, but I’d love to just hold you for a while.”
Fingering the silver cross around her neck, she nodded and settled in beside him, cuddling close when he draped an arm around her shoulder. Her wispy sigh floated between them as they studied the silver-white orb in the sky. “Why is it that moonlight calms me down, making everything seem so still and serene?” she whispered.
A chuckle rumbled from his lips as he leaned close to feather her ear. “Funny, it does the exact opposite for me.” The clean scent of lavender roused his senses as her warmth seeped into his body, and all at once, his pulse kicked up, luring his mouth to the soft skin of her throat. “Hang it all, Maggie, you smell so darn good …”
“Blaze, maybe we should—” She turned to face him, and he claimed her mouth with a slow and tender kiss meant to convey just how much he cared, taking his time to touch and taste with a reverence he’d never felt for a woman before.
A tiny mew escaped her, and the sound made him forget all about his promise to his uncle, stoking the embers of a fire restrained far too long. A smoldering heat purled through his body he suddenly had no will to deny, and holding her face in his hands, he kissed her again, barely aware when he eased her down on the blanket.
“So help me, Maggie, I’m crazy about you,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he lost himself in the silky curve of her neck, grazing her skin with the softest of kisses. “Sweet angels in heaven, I can’t wait to marry you!” His breathing accelerated as he pulled her closer, their moans colliding when he devoured her mouth once again, desperate to explore.
She broke away with chest heaving. “When?” she whispered, swollen lips emitting shallow air.
His own breathing was harsh as he stared, her question quickly dousing the fire inside. “What?”
She placed a trembling hand to his cheek, searching his face as her ragged breathing mingled with his. “I can’t wait to marry you either, Blaze, so when?”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple hitching several times as he gently swept stray hair from her face. “Come on, Maggie, we’ve only been courting two months, darlin’, and you already want more?”
A sheen of moisture glimmered in her eyes as she slowly sat up. “Yes, I do, Blaze, just like you, only it seems the ‘more’ we both want entails different things.”
Blasting out his frustration, he sat up as well, slashing a hand through his hair. “Look, Maggie, I don’t know what more you want from me. I go to church with you, I court you, I follow your rules—what more do you want?”
“A commitment to a wedding date would be nice,” she said quietly, the very lips he’d caressed before now trembling as she pleaded with her eyes. “One that tells me I matter more than your desire for kisses, Blaze, and more than your fear of marriage and God.”
His laugh was harsh as he shook his head. “You want too much too soon—I’m just not ready for that.
Moisture welled in her eyes, cramping his gut. “And therein lies my greatest fear,” she said, her whispered words as broken as she. “That you might never be.” He watched in disbelief as she unclasped the necklace with shaky fingers, laying it on the blanket.
He gripped her wrist before she could rise to her feet, his ribcage constricting. “What the devil are you doing, Maggie? I told you I love you and want to marry you, just not right away, so what in blazes is so wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong with that?” she repeated, offering a sad smile as she motioned a hand between them. “This is what’s wrong with that. The moonlight, the blanket, the kisses that disarm me until I want to give you all the love that I have.” She shuddered as she gently removed her wrist from his hold. “I can’t afford that, Blaze.” She stood up, hand quivering as she dusted bits of hay from her skirt. “It’s just too hard.”
He jumped up to pull her into his arms. “No more lofts, then. We’ll do it your way from now on, I promise.”
“Oh, Blaze, how I wish that you could!” she said with a sadness that tore at his gut. “But ‘my way’ is His way, and I realize now that our commitment is not even remotely the same. ‘Choose a man of deep faith,’ my mother once told me, ‘for a strand of three cords is not quickly broken,’ and now I finally understand what she meant.”
Hackles rising, he shifted, dropping his hold to prop hands low on his lips. “What in tarnation is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that both of us were right, Blaze.” Her ribcage expanded and contracted with a weary sigh while she cupped his jaw with a gentle palm, her smile as tender as her tone. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you anymore than you wanted to fall in love with me, because we knew how different we were. You aren’t the marrying kind, and I’m too respectable to do it any other way. But it would appear that neither of us had a whole lot of say. So,” she said with another heavy exhale, “I fell so hard for you that I was bound and determined to make it work.”
Her hand dropped from his face as she stepped away, chilling his skin as much as her words chilled his soul. “But over the last few months, the more that you kiss me like you do”—her eyes flickered closed as a knot ducked in her throat—“the more I want to do it your way and give you my all, and I can’t help but worry that if we wait too long”—tears brimmed in her eyes as her voice lowered to a bare whisper—“I will.”
“Come on, Maggie,” he said quietly, “you know I would never take it that far.”
“No, Blaze, I don’t know that, and to be honest, I fear that until you fully commit to God, you’ll never be able to fully commit to me.”
His jaw dropped. “So that’s what this is about then? My faith in God or lack of it?”
“I think so,” she whispered. “Because although I love you and everything about the Silver Lining Ranch, sometimes love doesn’t have a silver lining. Like now, when I suddenly realize I have a choice to make. Between a man I want to give everything to … and a God who’s given everything to me.”
Hissing a muttered curse, he turned away, fury and feelings for Maggie warring in his mind. She was giving him an ultimatum just like his mother had with his father, just like so-called Christian women did when they wanted complete control over a man. Anger surged as he spun to face her, bludgeoning a finger right in her face. “Don’t do this, Maggie,” he said. “You’re the only woman I want and I love you, but don’t force my hand like my mother did to my father.”
Tears brimmed as she shook her head, spilling down a face laden with grief. “No, Blaze, I would never do that,” she whispered, “because I love you too much.”
Relief coursed through his veins as he took a step forward. “So, what does that mean for us, then, Maggie—are we betrothed? Friends? Lovers? What?”
She shook her head as she moved toward the ladder, stunning him when she turned to give him the saddest of smiles. “None of those, I’
m afraid,” she whispered, her stark look of love blurred by a sheen in her eyes. “It means we’re over.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
“Are you nervous?” Libby asked, straightening the four-in-hand silk tie she picked out for Finn’s election eve debate. Adjusting the wingtip collar of his pinstripe shirt, she stood back to admire his stylish blue sack suit, thinking if women had the vote, the man could win on looks alone.
“Naw.” He deposited a kiss to her nose before surveying himself in the full-length mirror of the bride’s room at St. Mary’s in the Mountains Catholic Church, the venue for the mayoral debate. She smiled when he attempted to tug his collar a bit looser, thinking that after the election tomorrow, Finn McShane would just have to get used to wearing suits again. Hooking an arm to her waist, he drew her close to his side to wink at her in the mirror. “Once all the men get a gander at you, Libby, nobody’ll be paying any attention to me.”
She studied their image in the glass, pleased that her new red feathered hat matched Finn’s tie quite well, the white lace ruffles of her best silk blouse a perfect complement to both her navy silk dress and Finn’s well-tailored suit. She waggled her brows, her smile more than a little proud. “Trust me, Mr. McShane, once women get the vote, you’ll never lose another election.”
He scooped her up, diving for her neck with a growl. “Are you implying that I’m going to lose this one?”
“Ahem.” Her father waltzed into the room with Senator Jones and John Piper, one brow jagged high in jest. “There’s plenty of time for that after the wedding, McShane—you have an election to win first.”
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