by Diana Palmer
Then she organized those who remained into a work detail to set up the remaining systems. When Maggie relayed Jackson’s warning about the wiring, Sara called the employment office at the tribal headquarters. Two unemployed electricians arrived in short order.
For the next two hours, Maggie hurried from group to group, checking connections, demonstrating how to load software and marveling at how well the kids cooperated with each other. They were so appreciative and eager to learn, she wanted to hug them all. Their excitement over the new equipment provided a sorely needed balm to the emotional wounds Jackson had inflicted.
By the time the last reluctant straggler left for home at dusk, however, she felt wrung out. She wanted a hot shower and solitude. Hours and hours of solitude, and at least twenty-four hours of sleep. She nearly groaned out loud when Sara suggested a celebration as they walked out of the building together.
“I’m really whipped, Sara,” Maggie said. “Would you be offended if I asked for a rain check?”
“After what you’ve accomplished today, you couldn’t offend me if you tried,” Sara replied with a sympathetic grin. “As long as you promise to tell me what you did to Reese. I want to hear every gory detail.”
Maintaining a deadpan expression, Maggie shrugged. “Oh, it was nothing. I just walked into his office, shoved a gun in his face, and he caved right in.”
Sara laughed. “Yeah, right. Do you realize all the teachers in Whitehorn are wondering why they suddenly got orders to take their Indian kids to the library today? Some of my friends called me to talk about it. And I’ll bet we can get the school district to set up evening or weekend keyboarding classes out here for the kids and the adults. This is really going to open up some opportunities, Maggie. It’s just wonderful.”
“I’m glad I could help, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“It was a very big deal to the kids,” Sara said. “Now, tell me, where did all of that stuff come from?”
Fearing Sara would react as Jackson had if she knew the source of the new equipment, Maggie said, “It was a corporate donation, Sara. I just happened to mention the kids to a C.E.O. friend of mine, and he sent the computers right out.”
“We should all have such friends,” Sara said with a grin. “You’d better watch your step, though. You’ve made a big impression on the kids. I wouldn’t be surprised to see every one of those girls walk in with short hair tomorrow.”
Recalling her conversation with Jackson, Maggie winced. “Lord, I hope not. I’m not exactly great role model material for Indian kids.”
“How can you say that?” Sara demanded, scowling at her. “You gave them hope, and showed them one person can make a difference. Sounds like pretty good role model material for any kind of kids to me.”
Wishing she’d kept her mouth shut, Maggie shook her head dismissively and forced a smile. Sara was not about to be put off so easily, however. Pausing beside her car, she studied Maggie through narrowed eyes.
“You should be higher than a kite. The library books were a major victory by themselves, but to get the computers, too, is a miracle.”
“Look, I’ve really got to go,” Maggie said. “The road to Whitehorn’s bad enough in the daytime. I’d rather not tackle it when it’s any darker than it already is.”
Sara grasped Maggie’s arm when she would have turned away. “Wait a minute. What’s wrong, Maggie?”
“It’s nothing. Really. I’ve just had a long day.”
Though she raised a doubtful eyebrow, Sara released Maggie’s arm. “Okay. I can understand that, I guess. But if you ever want to talk or anything, you know where to find me.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Sara. I’ll see you later.”
Maggie headed on toward the tribal center. The last rays of the sunset had faded to a deep navy blue, and the stars were coming out. Maggie slowed to look at them, suddenly feeling terribly small and alone. Seeing her little rental car sitting all by itself where she’d parked it in front of the tribal offices this morning reinforced the feeling.
Sara honked and waved when she drove away from the school, dispelling Maggie’s blue mood for a moment. She waved back, then nearly had a coronary when she turned around and saw a man step out of a doorway on the other side of the street. She was always ultracareful about being out alone at night in Washington, but Laughing Horse had such a small-town ambience, she hadn’t thought much about her personal security.
She stopped walking, hoping he would go the other way. The man didn’t. He looked big and dark, and his face was obscured by the deep shadows cast by the brim of his Stetson. And he was walking straight toward her, as if he meant business. Adrenaline surging, she backed up a step, then another, struggling to stay calm and remember what she’d learned in the self-defense class she took last year.
“Relax, Maggie, it’s me,” Jackson said.
She halted her retreat, pressing one hand over her heart, as if that would still its frantic pounding. He stopped less than a foot in front of her, tipped back his hat and looked down at her, his forehead creased with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. You just scared the devil out of me,” she said with a shaky laugh. She took two steps back to put a more comfortable distance between them. “What are you doing here so late?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Why?”
He spread his feet farther apart and stuck the tips of his fingers into his back pockets. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh, please,” she said. “Couldn’t it wait? I don’t have enough energy to fight with you again today.”
“I said talk, not fight.”
“We don’t seem to be able to do one without doing the other.” She sidestepped around him and made a beeline for her car.
He followed her, easily catching up with his longer stride. “Yeah, I know. I wanted to apologize for that.”
Maggie shot him a skeptical look, then stuck her key in the door lock. “Don’t bother. I know you don’t like me, and that’s your privilege, Jackson. Believe me, I can handle it.”
“It didn’t look that way to me,” he said. “When I left, you were damn near ready to cry.”
Nuts. She’d hoped he hadn’t noticed. “I got over it.”
“Well, I didn’t.” Raising one hand, he brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek. “I felt guilty all afternoon.”
She pushed his hand away, not because his touch felt bad, but because it felt too good. “I cry sometimes when I’m really angry. It’s embarrassing, but it’s no big problem.”
“You weren’t just angry. You were hurt.”
“Even apples have feelings, Mr. Hawk.”
He smiled at that. “So do bigots, Ms. Schaeffer. You know, when we start arguing, neither one of us knows when to shut up. Were you ever on a debating team?”
His question pulled a reluctant grin from her. “How did you know?”
“Just a wild guess.” He chuckled, then gazed at her for a long moment, his expression turning sober. “But you’ve got one thing wrong, Maggie. I don’t dislike you.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Give me a break. I don’t feel like getting into that again now, so—”
He laid one finger across her lips. “This is one of those times you should shut up. I tried to tell you this before I left, but you weren’t ready to listen. The truth is, I like you a lot. I’m even…attracted to you.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Chuckling again, Jackson traced her upper lip with his forefinger. Soft as dandelion fluff, his touch left a trail of tingling nerve endings behind it.
“You don’t believe me?” He stepped closer, crowding her against the side of the car, framing her face between his big hands when she tried to lean away from him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to prove it to you.”
Staring in stupefaction, she watched his head slowly descend, the brim of his hat blocking out what little light there was on the deserted street. Though she’d literally seen it coming, she
started when his mouth brushed against hers.
“Easy, I won’t bite…” he murmured. He slid his right hand into her hair, above her ear, and curved his long fingers around the back of her head. “Close your eyes, Maggie.”
His voice was so low, so gentle, she obeyed automatically. And then his mouth closed over hers with a passion that stole the oxygen from her lungs and demanded a response.
“God, you’re sweet.” He tilted his head in the opposite direction, then took her mouth again, as if he had all the time in the world.
Kissing Jackson was better than anything she’d imagined, and she’d fantasized enough about him to have imagined plenty. She’d thought it would be hot and exciting, maybe a little dangerous and overpowering. It was all of those things, and more. It was like her first dive off the high board, like taking on raging white water in a flimsy rubber raft, like the great shrieking rush you get just before you hit the end of a bungee cord.
She opened her mouth, eager for the taste and feel of his tongue stroking hers. He accepted her invitation with a muffled groan. She raised her hands to his chest. Her fingertips pressed into his hard muscles, and she felt his heart hammering beneath her palms. She heard his harsh, choppy breaths—or maybe they were hers. She didn’t know or care. The only thing she knew for certain at the moment was, she wanted to get closer. Much, much closer.
As if he’d read her mind, he dropped his left arm to her hips and pulled her flush against him. Her mouth went dry and her knees went weak when the rigid length of his arousal pressed into her belly. It felt…intimate. Too intimate. Too fast. Too out of control.
Wrenching her mouth from his, she said, “Jackson, no. Stop. Please, stop.”
His arm around her hips loosened, but he didn’t let her go completely until she found the strength to push against his chest. He shook his head, as if to clear it, then dropped his arms to his sides and turned away from her. Well, damn, she thought, shivering from the sudden lack of warmth. Knowing Jackson, he’d probably add being a tease to her long list of faults.
To her surprise, however, he looked over his shoulder and gave her a rueful grin. “Now do you believe me?”
“About what?”
“That I’m attracted to you.”
“Oh, uh, well…sure,” she stammered, fighting to suppress the fit of hysterical laughter bubbling up inside her. God, how had she gotten herself into this situation, with Jackson Hawk, of all people? “I, uh, I guess so…”
“You only guess so?” Turning back around, he waggled his eyebrows at her. His rueful grin became wicked. “You want more proof? I’ll be happy to give you another demonstration.”
“No, Jackson.” She wrapped her arms around herself and backed away from him. “Thank you, but one was, uh, sufficient.”
He held up both hands in a classic gesture of innocence. “I know things got a little carried away there for a minute, but you don’t have to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not, really. I’m just a little, uh…stunned.”
“You didn’t hate it, did you?”
“No.” Her voice came out in a hoarse croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “No, I didn’t hate it.”
“Does that mean you liked it?”
“Do you really expect me to answer that?”
He gave her another one of those wicked grins. “If you don’t, I may have to try it again. Just to make sure I didn’t get the wrong signals, or anything.”
She couldn’t help laughing at such a blatant attempt at manipulation. She couldn’t resist taking a poke at his ego, either. “It was okay. On a scale of one to ten, I’d give it about a…four.”
“Only a four, huh?” He hung his head, then looked up at her and winked. “I guess I’ll have to practice.”
“Why this sudden change of heart, Jackson?”
“It’s not really sudden.” He rested his hip against the side of her car and crossed his arms over his chest. “You were right about some of the things you said today.”
“What things?”
“Bigotry, for one. I don’t like it in other people, and I sure don’t like it in myself. But it’s there, all right.” Sighing, he shook his head. “You’ve been catching the brunt of some things that happened a long time before I met you. I’m sorry, Maggie. You didn’t deserve it.”
There was no doubting his sincerity this time. Maggie gazed into his dark eyes and saw stark memories of pain. Feeling privileged that he had trusted her enough to let her see it, she stepped closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not right now.” He reached out and caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “I know you’re tired. We’ll have lots of time to talk when we’re driving all over the res.”
She pulled back, scowling at him. “Is that why you kissed me? Because I said I’d changed my mind?”
Jackson straightened away from the car, dropped a quick, hard kiss on her lips, and opened the door for her. “No. I kissed you because I damn well wanted to. In fact, if you don’t get out of here in the next thirty seconds, I’ll probably do it again, because I still want to.”
Maggie slid into the driver’s seat, then rolled down the window when Jackson shut the door for her. “I’m not comfortable with this. I don’t mix business relationships with personal ones. If you’re expecting—”
“I’m not expecting anything,” Jackson said, interrupting her. “Why don’t we pretend we just met, and try to be friends, for starters?”
“Do you really think that’s possible? Just being friends?”
His wicked grin returned. Bracing one hand on the window opening, he leaned down until they were eye-to-eye. “I like my women willing. You won’t have any problem resisting me, if my kisses only rate a four, Maggie.”
Oh, you wretch, she thought, smiling in spite of her better judgment. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“You started it. But, hey, if you don’t think you can handle it…” Allowing his voice to trail off, he shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him whether or not she accepted it.
Though she wasn’t at all certain she could handle his challenge, Maggie wouldn’t have admitted it to him under torture. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow at one.”
She started the car and backed out of the parking slot as Jackson raised one hand to wave her off. Tapping the brake, she stuck her head out of the window and called to him, “Hey, Jackson? That kiss was closer to a six.”
Then she drove away, with the sound of his laughter echoing in her wake. She smiled all the way to the junction with highway 191, the road back to Whitehorn. In truth, that kiss had been more like a fifteen, but she didn’t want him to get any more conceited than he already was. Besides, it would be fun to see how hard he was willing to work to improve his score.
As she turned south and the miles passed, however, doubts about the wisdom of getting more personally involved with Jackson crept into her mind. Whether or not either of them wanted to admit it, they were heading in that direction. He was the most complicated, fascinating man she’d ever met, and by far the best kisser. Knowing he was as physically attracted to her as she was to him had given her ego a nice boost.
What worried her was that if Jackson continued to be as charming as he’d been tonight, it might not be all that difficult for her to fall in love with him. She couldn’t afford to do it. There was the promise to her mother, for one thing. For another, much as she was enjoying her time at Laughing Horse, she didn’t want to live there permanently. It was impossible to imagine Jackson living anywhere else.
Her mother had consistently advised her to stand on her own two feet and never depend on a man to support her. Maggie had taken the advice to heart, and she had no regrets for having done so. While she was starting to have some uneasy feelings about Congressman Baldwin, she loved her work a great deal. She wanted to get married and have children someday, but not at the expense of her career.
“Wait a minute, Schaeffer,” she muttered. “You’re getting
way ahead of yourself. Jackson didn’t say anything about love or marriage. He just wants to take you to bed.”
It was a disheartening thought, but one she couldn’t ignore. She hadn’t been living in a convent, after all. She’d dated enough to know what men wanted from women, and it usually wasn’t a commitment. Her unwillingness to engage in sex without one had ended more than a few promising relationships.
She hadn’t mourned over her lost relationships, though. Not for long, anyway. Her life was busy and fulfilling, and only one of those men had ever turned her on enough to tempt her into bed with him in the first place. Of course, if any of the others had ever kissed her the way Jackson had, she might not be feeling quite so virtuous.
Lord, just thinking about it was enough to make her toes curl and her heart pound with anticipation of the next one. And there would, undoubtedly, be a next one. Oh, drat the man. He certainly had a gift for keeping her in a constant state of confusion about something. How did he manage to do that?
Reducing her speed as she entered the Whitehorn city limits, Maggie heaved a weary sigh. Well, it was too late to back out now. When she arrived at the motel, she would go straight to bed and get a good night’s sleep. She had a feeling she would need every bit of strength she could muster in order to deal with Jackson Hawk tomorrow.
Jackson spent the next morning helping his uncle catch up on tribal business. The hours passed in a flurry of paperwork and arguments over how he’d handled this problem or that one, but Maggie was never far from his thoughts. After a long night of too little sleep and too much reflection, he had come to the brilliant conclusion that he never should have kissed her.
He honestly hadn’t intended to. He’d only meant to make sure she was okay and try to reestablish a decent working relationship. But then he’d watched her come out of the school with Sara and heard almost every word the two women had said.
Knowing Maggie had been higher than a kite when she came back from her confrontation with Reese, that she’d been high again when the computers arrived, and that he’d smashed her pleasure in both events, had made him feel like a mean bastard all over again.