“Ugh.” Why? Why did every single train of thought always lead her right back to him? “Maggie, girl. You’ve got to put him out of your head. He’s taken. Dallas-taken. They are together. You are not. Stop thinking about him!” But that was easier said than done.
How many times Keith had been up and down the road leading to the guesthouse that day, he had no idea. The excuses were endless, and by four o’clock, he was beginning to hope Ike wouldn’t catch on.
“Man, I forgot to grab the extra ropes from my garage at lunch,” Keith said. “Tanner said he needed them for tomorrow.”
“You know, I think Dallas must’ve fried your brain,” Ike said with a laugh. “You’re a mess.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Gee, I’d hate to see you after the honeymoon. You ain’t going to get any meaningful work done for a year.”
Keith shook his head at the implication. “I’m going to run over and get them.”
Ike waved him off, and Keith escaped from the office with a sigh of relief. Now if she would just show up so he could help her, he wouldn’t have to come up with some other lame excuse. Eventually Ike was going to get suspicious.
How he made that bolt look like it would slide through butter, Maggie had no clue. Sweat popped out on her forehead as she took hold of it with both hands and pulled. She had the feeling that even if she hung on the thing, she wouldn’t be able to get it to unlatch. “Grrr.”
Taking hold of it again, she yanked. Once. Twice. Just before she actually tried the hanging on it thing, she heard the drone of the Dodge, and her gaze snapped up the trail. Self-consciously she let go and backed up as she watched him drive toward her. When he stopped, his grin could’ve been no bigger.
“You need some help?” He slid out of the pickup, looking every bit the rugged, hardworking ranch hand cowboy. Those arms, sleek and tan, bulged from beneath the dirt-stained denim shirt, and Maggie had to force herself to breathe.
“That would be nice.” She shaded her eyes with her hand as she backed farther from the barn door.
He stepped in front of her.
“Ike going easy on you these days?”
He twisted slightly. “What’s that mean?”
“You’ve spent more time here today than working.” Then the thought of why scratched across her brain. “Oh, yeah. I bet Dallas has got you going crazy over the party. Huh?”
“Oh. No. Not really.” He slid the bolt out of the holder with ease.
She put her hands on her hips. “Now how do you do that? I’ve been out here for ten minutes trying to do that.”
“It’s not hard. You just have to know the secret.” He smiled at her wickedly.
“Uh-huh. And you’re going to keep my car hostage by not telling me this secret?”
He leaned on the barn door and folded his arms across his chest as he sized her up. “Well, if you’re really nice…”
“Hey, now. When have I not been nice to you?” She was teasing, but his face fell just the same.
He turned back for the door. “It’s easy. You just have to push the door in a little bit.” With one hand he pushed the door, with the other he slid the bolt up and down into the latch with no problem.
Maggie still wasn’t convinced. She stepped up into the space between him and the door. “Let me try that.” Reaching up with one hand, she took hold of the bolt. Then with the other and her hip, she pushed on the door. Sure enough the bolt slid free with nearly no effort. “Wow. That’s some secret.”
Keith felt like all the air in the meadow had evaporated. Three inches from him, she stood in her yellow top and three-quarter length pants, looking all smart and sassy. With everything he had, he wanted to reach out to her, put his arms around her and forget about everything else in his life.
She worked the bolt a few more times to make sure there wasn’t some catch. Then she let the bolt down and pulled the door open. “Ha. Now my car isn’t a hostage.”
Deflecting the feelings of wanting her, he crossed his arms again. “What makes you think it was a hostage to begin with? All you had to do was knock on my door, and say, ‘Keith, could you come help me?’”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “What like some little damsel in distress? I can handle things on my own just fine, I’ll have you know.”
“Uh-huh. Like smoothie-on-the-ceiling fine?”
At first she looked hurt, but then her eyes glinted when she realized he was teasing. “That was a fluke.”
“And falling down the stairs?”
Annoyance crossed her face. “Nerves.”
“And being caught out in the rain with no umbrella?”
Her face scrunched. “I never did that.”
He grinned. “Give it time.”
“Grr.” She reached out and whacked the side of his arm with her hand; however, in the next second she was yelping in pain. “Oww. What are you made of steel?”
At first he laughed, then the thought of how many problems that would solve crossed through him. “No. Unfortunately flesh and bones.”
“Yeah,” she said, still shaking her hand. “Hard ones.”
“Come on. Let’s get this car taken care of. I’ll run you back up to the mansion.”
“Yeah. I’d hate to be late when Greg gets here.”
It was like a punch to the gut. “Yeah, we’d hate for that to happen.”
Maggie drove the car in and made a point of working the bolt herself when she came back out. It was not fair for a guy to stand around looking that good. It just wasn’t. She was having enough trouble getting her brain to think clearly as it was. Those muscles. That tan. That smile. They all called to her senses, threatening to take her places that she knew she could never go.
She jumped into the pickup, glad for the cool air of the air conditioner. When he slid in behind the wheel, she knew she had to say something, something casual and friendly—lest her mouth take her where her heart wanted to go. “You been out working today?”
He glanced over at her. That hat. The bandana. Her brain kept cataloging every single thing she liked about him.
“Trying to get Dragnet ready for Oak Tree.” In his voice there was darkness lurking in the corners.
“And that’s not going well?”
“Oh, Dad just has no patience with the really important things. He gave us ‘til May to have him ready, and there’s just no way that’s going to happen.” After a moment he sighed and slid down in the seat as they crossed back onto the road. “Not that it matters to me much anymore.”
“Why’s that?”
He glanced at her. “May. By June. I’ll be out of here, and it’ll be his problem.”
That whacked her backward in the seat. “You’re leaving then?”
It seemed he couldn’t get comfortable as he shifted side-to-side. “Dallas has this place picked out in the Woodlands. That’s a little too far to commute every day.”
“Oh.” Somehow she hadn’t realized he’d be leaving.
The pickup rolled to the front of the mansion and stopped.
“Well, this is it,” he said, looking over at her.
She fought to smile. “Yeah. I guess I’ll see you tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter Twelve
Maggie heard the doorbell. It raked across her nerves, pulling them right to the surface. She closed her eyes as she prayed for courage and sanity and anything else she might need to get through this night. The dress was far better than anything else she’d tried on that day; however, it was much shorter than what she was used to wearing.
On her way out the door she tugged the skirt down, trying to get it below her knees. “Stop fidgeting, Maggie,” she berated herself. “Stop it.” But still she fidgeted. She couldn’t help it.
Carefully she descended the stairs, feeling like it was the night of a prom she’d never gone to. She certainly couldn’t have gotten any more nervous had she been in a formal gown with a corsage on her wrist. At the bo
ttom of the steps by the door stood Greg with Inez. When he looked up, he smiled.
“Well, hello there.” His gaze stayed on her all the way to the bottom. In all of her memory, she couldn’t remember anybody ever looking at her like that.
“I’d better get back to the kitchen,” Inez said, and she removed herself from the situation.
Greg surveyed her. “You look beautiful.”
Once more she smoothed the skirt down. “Thanks.”
He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Keith was midway through pouring Tracy wine when movement at the patio door caught his attention. He looked up and everything else dropped away. There, on the arm of his best friend, was every dream he’d ever had. The smoky-gray dress hugged her curves and set off the mass of waves undulating around her face.
“Oh, Greg! You made it.” Dallas greeted them like a four-star hostess. “And you must be Maggie. Hi, I’m Dallas.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Maggie put out her hand, and Keith had to force the air into his lungs.
“Hey, Keith, man.” Greg put his hand in the air, and Keith caught it as he had countless times. But never before had his gaze stayed on the beauty standing behind his best friend. “Thanks for asking us. This is Maggie.”
“Maggie,” Keith said, holding out his hand to her like he’d been caught in a trance.
“Hi. Uh, thanks for asking us.”
“Our pleasure.” Man, she was going to be hard not to watch all night.
“Pâté?” Dallas asked, stepping up with a silver serving tray.
“Oh, thanks.” Maggie took a small piece of bread with the meat spread on it. She took a bite, and Keith had to keep from laughing at the look on her face. “Mmm.”
“Hi, Greg,” Tracy, Dallas’s best friend and maid of honor, said as she stepped up. From Keith’s recollection Tracy and Greg had been out about three times when they were all in college. If his memory served correctly, Greg’s exact assessment was “too much drama for me.”
“Tracy.” Greg put his arm around Maggie apparently to emphasize he had a date, and Keith’s fist balled automatically. “This is Maggie Montgomery.”
“Oh.” Tracy spun her wine glass toward her face. “Do you work with Greg at Corporate Accounting?”
“Uh, no.” Maggie hesitated.
“She works at the Ayer mansion,” Greg said, pulling her closer to his side. “She’s the new nanny.”
“Oh,” Tracy dragged the single syllable to six. “Well, I guess that’s about par for the course.” She surveyed Greg with smiling condescension. “We all know how you like slumming with the middle class.”
Had she not been a friend of Dallas, Keith would’ve shown her the door and thrown her out himself.
“Yeah, well,” Dallas sighed dramatically, trying to salvage the wreck. “I wonder what’s keeping Allison and Jared. They should’ve been here by now.”
“Oh,” Keith said, wanting only to put his arms around Maggie and get her out of here and away from the snobs he called friends. He hated the defenseless vulnerability on her face. “Jared called and said they were going to be a little late. He got stuck at the office.”
Dallas sighed again and looked at her watch. “Well, should we wait on dinner then? I told the caterers seven.”
Keith’s concern meter was hitting overload. He wanted to protect Maggie and help Dallas, but he wasn’t doing much good at either one. “We can be a little late. It won’t kill anyone.” Although as he glanced at Tracy standing smugly to the side, he thought if she popped her mouth off at Maggie again, she might very well not be around to enjoy the Duck a L'Orange.
For her part Maggie had effectively shrunk to invisible next to Greg.
“Oh, where are my manners?” Keith asked, snapping back into host mode. “Would you two like some wine?” He grabbed the bottle and two glasses from the serving table.
“Sure,” Greg said right next to Maggie, and the only thing she could think was that she never should have come. These people were way out of her league. They talked in languages she didn’t understand. They ate food that tasted like it had been recycled from the trashcan. And most of all, they drank.
She wondered at that moment about Keith’s night on the town Friday night. Was this just normal protocol with them? Drinks and more drinks. Her gut twisted around that thought. And then he was standing there in front of her with the bottle and the glass, smiling at her with that smile that reminded her so much of a guy she knew. Only that guy wore a beat up cowboy hat and didn’t go around sipping Chardonnay.
“Um…” Her gaze swept past him to the others. Saying it might well banish her from them forever, but the truth was she would never be invited again anyway. That much was obvious. “I don’t drink.”
Keith’s face fell in confusion with the statement, and he looked at her like she had just dropped there from Mars. Greg looked down at her, and his smile fell away as well too.
“What?” Greg asked.
Maggie dragged in a breath as her gaze fought to find somewhere to look that wouldn’t knife her to death. “I don’t drink.” She tried to smile to soften the blow as she scratched the side of her head. “Umm, I hope that’s not a problem.”
Utter silence fell over the whole place. Even the trees stopped rustling.
Keith was the first to break the silence. “Of course not. I’ve got lots of other stuff in the kitchen. Coke. Sprite. Water. Whatever you want.”
She had never felt more rescued in her life. “Sprite. If you don’t mind.”
Finally his smile was back in full. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
He stepped past her, smelling better than any human had a right to. The whiff of soft, musk cologne sent her head swimming, and her gaze followed him all the way to and through the back patio door.
Tracy and Dallas were already talking about wedding plans as they took seats on the perfectly positioned outdoor furniture. Greg guided Maggie to the little swing with the metal frame that rounded up and over the top. It was on the same patio but far enough away they could have a modicum of privacy.
On the swing he leaned toward her. “I’m really sorry about that. Tracy and I… Well, we were together for a while. She can be like that sometimes.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maggie said, trying to take her own advice. She reached over and put her hand on his knee for emphasis. “It comes with the territory.”
Keith stepped back into the yard and walked right over to her. “Here you are.” He produced a wine glass with clear, bubbly liquid. “Enjoy.”
Her heart skipped through her chest. Somehow she had expected a green plastic bottle to announce to everyone how different she was. Instead the wine glass said she fit with no question. “Thanks.”
The wink was almost non-existent, but she saw it just the same. “No problem.”
Throughout drinks and dinner Keith watched her. There was no doubt that this was not her element, and yet… yet, she held her own. Allison, thankfully, was much less of a snob than Tracy, and between her and Dallas, they made sure Maggie was included as much as possible.
“Nice party,” Greg said, sliding up by Keith who stood at the entertainment center talking with Jared.
“Thanks.”
Jared excused himself and walked off.
“She’s something, huh?” Greg asked, indicating Maggie who sat across the room with the women. She wasn’t in the conversation, but the light that permeated her every move was right there with her.
“Yeah, something.”
“I wonder if she’s like seeing anyone.”
The thought had never occurred to Keith. “I don’t know. She came with you, didn’t she?”
“Yeah.” Greg took a drink. “But you know my track record with women. They’re always attached to someone else.”
The knife went right through Keith’s heart. “Yeah, well maybe this time you’ll get lucky.”
Greg tipped the glass up. “Here’s hoping.”
> “Thanks for coming. It was fun.” Dallas stood at the top step of the guesthouse, Keith at her side as Greg and Maggie stood on the porch saying their good-byes.
“Thanks for asking us. We had a good time,” Greg said.
“Yeah. It was wonderful,” Maggie said, fighting with everything in her not to look at Keith. It was nearly impossible, but looking at him standing there with his arm around Dallas was going to kill her.
“Good night,” Greg said and turned her toward the cars.
“’Night,” Dallas called happily.
Maggie would be happy too if she was going back in with Keith. The guests were gone. The party over. Now they could be alone. That thought hit her hard. It was clear Dallas was staying there. Of course Maggie wasn’t naïve enough to think that nothing was happening when they were alone. She closed her eyes to block out that thought.
Then just at the end of the steps, Greg swayed into her. She looked at him with concern. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yeah. I didn’t have that much.”
Maggie glanced back at the guesthouse, but Dallas and Keith had already gone in. She looked back at Greg, and her mind went through the evening. Two wines on the patio. A couple during dinner. One or two more after. With a breath she watched him walking to the car. It was barely there, but still it was.
“Maybe I should drive.”
Greg laughed. “We’re just going to the mansion.”
“No. I mean maybe I should drive you home.”
“Home?” He jerked backward to look at her. “I’m fine. I barely had anything.”
She put her arms around herself and glanced back at the house. “Yeah, well… I’d feel better if we all got home in one piece.”
Coming Home: (Contemporary Christian Romance Boxed Set): Three Stories of Love, Faith, Struggle & Hope Page 35