THE MAVERICK'S THANKSGIVING BABY

by Brenda Harlen

  “And the baby’s mom?”

  “She’s fine, too. In fact, I’ve gained back almost all of the weight I lost in the first trimester.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I think I’m going to wear that Isabella Oliver wrap maternity dress that you sent to me for Thanksgiving.” She didn’t tell her mother that she’d also be wearing faux fur–lined knee-high boots and a down coat, because she did not want to hear about the balmy weather in SoCal.

  “Maybe you could make a quick weekend trip this way sometime soon for us to do some more shopping,” Christa suggested. “For you and for the baby.”

  “I’d like that,” Maggie agreed.

  “I wish you could be here for Thanksgiving,” Christa said. “Both you and Jesse, I mean.”

  She was glad for the distance that separated them, so her mother couldn’t see the tears that stung her eyes. “We’ll make the trip for Christmas,” she promised.

  “Christmas still seems so far away.”

  “It will be here before we know it.”

  “So what are your plans for this holiday?”

  “We’re having a big meal with Jesse’s family—all fifteen of them.”

  Christa laughed. “That should be an experience.”

  “No doubt.”

  “How’s the new job?”

  “Good,” Maggie said. “Different, but good. I’m doing a little bit of everything, but not a lot of anything.”

  “I’m sure you don’t miss working sixty hours a week for Brian Nash.”

  “No,” she agreed. “I feel a little bit like I’m at loose ends right now, but I know I’ll be glad for the slower pace when the baby comes.”

  They chatted a little more, about the class action suit, a new movie star client—unnamed to protect the solicitor-client privilege—who had hired Gavin to fight a paternity claim, and the new woman—a Laker girl—that Ryan was dating.

  “Are you sure everything is okay?” Christa asked when their conversation had finally wound down. “Because LA might seem like a long way from Rust Creek Falls, but if you need anything at all, you just say the word and I’ll be there.”

  Maggie was glad that her mother couldn’t see the tears that filled her eyes. “Thanks, Mom. But everything’s fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “I guess I’m just missing you and Dad. I’ve never not been home for Thanksgiving.”

  “You don’t feel like Rust Creek Falls is your home now?” her mother asked gently.

  “No, I do,” Maggie hastened to assure her, again grateful that her mother couldn’t see her face because Christa always could tell when any of her kids was being less than honest. “Like I said—I’m just missing you and Dad. Even Ryan.”

  That made her mother chuckle. “Happy Thanksgiving, Maggie.”

  “You, too, Mom.”

  * * *

  Maggie was putting her boots on when Jesse came in from his final check on the animals Wednesday night.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked.

  “To the grocery store.”

  Because she’d specified grocery, he knew she didn’t mean Crawford’s. “We were just in Kalispell yesterday for your doctor’s appointment,” he reminded her.

  “I know,” she admitted. “But I wasn’t thinking about Thanksgiving then.”

  “And you’re thinking about Thanksgiving now?”

  “Because it’s tomorrow,” she reminded him. “And I can’t show up at your parents’ house empty-handed.”

  “My mom’s been doing Thanksgiving dinner for more years than I’ve been alive,” Jesse pointed out. “I assure you, everything is covered.”

  “I want to make something,” she insisted.

  He sighed. “It’s late and it’s already been a long day.”

  “I don’t expect you to go with me—I just thought you might want to know where I was going.”

  “Is Lissa going with you?”

  “No.”

  He frowned. “You’re going by yourself?”

  “I know the way,” she assured him.

  “But it’s late,” he said again.

  “It’s not quite seven-thirty and the store’s open until nine.”

  She made the statement matter-of-factly, as if she was perfectly capable of driving twenty minutes to an out-of-town grocery store to pick up a few items. And, of course, she was—he was just taken aback by her independence.

  He’d lost count of the number of times he’d suggested to Shaelyn that she should go into Kalispell to go shopping or to a movie or even just to get one of those fancy overpriced iced coffee drinks that she liked and that couldn’t be found in Rust Creek Falls.

  But she never wanted to go anywhere without him. And she had a knack for making him feel guilty for even suggesting she should be on her own for half an hour when he’d been away from her for most of the day. And what if something happened when she was driving all the way to and from Kalispell?

  As if he needed any further proof that Maggie was nothing like Shaelyn, she already had her boots and coat on and her keys in hand.

  “Wait.”

  She paused at the door. “Did you want something from the store?”

  “I want to go with you,” he decided.

  “That’s really not necessary.”

  And he knew it was true. She didn’t need him to go to the grocery store with her. In fact, she didn’t seem to need him for much of anything. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t do on her own—including having and raising a child.

  Which supported what Nina had said—that Maggie wasn’t with him because she needed him but because she wanted to be with him.

  And he realized that he didn’t like the idea of her driving to Kalispell on her own. Not because he was worried about anything that might happen, just because he wanted to be with her.

  “I know,” he finally said. “But I’d like to come, anyway.”

  She looked at him for a moment, then turned back to the door. “Then let’s go.”

  * * *

  Maggie was undeniably apprehensive about spending Thanksgiving with Jesse’s family. Partly because the last time she’d been invited to Todd and Laura’s house, she’d abruptly—and rudely—dropped the bombshell about her pregnancy on them, and partly because this was the first time since the wedding that she’d be in the same room with all of Jesse’s siblings—and the first time she’d see most of them since her husband had shared the news about their baby.

  “What have you got there?” Laura asked, gesturing to the covered bowls in each of Jesse’s and Maggie’s hands.

  “This one’s coleslaw,” she said, holding it up. “And Jesse’s got the mac and cheese carbonara.”

  “Mac and cheese what?” Todd asked.

  “It’s got bacon in it,” Jesse said, knowing that was his father’s weakness.

  “Well, I’ll have to try that,” he decided.

  “You didn’t have to bring anything,” her mother-in-law protested.

  “It’s a lot of work to make a meal for so many people,” Maggie acknowledged. “I wanted to at least make a small contribution.”

  “Well, that was real thoughtful,” Laura said, basking a little in her new daughter-in-law’s compliment. Then she gestured for them to join the rest of the family in the living room. “Come in, come in. We’ll be putting dinner on the table shortly.”

  “Can I give you a hand with anything?” Maggie offered.

  Her mother-in-law shook her head. “We’ve got everything covered. Oh—except that we do need one more place set at the table.”

  “I’m doing it now,” Callie said from the dining room.

  “One more?” Jesse queried.

  Laura nodded t
o her husband. “Ask your father.”

  His father shrugged. “When I stopped by the store to pick up a pint of ice cream, I saw Homer Gilmore wandering the street. Since I knew we’d have more than enough food to feed the army reserves, I asked him to join us for the meal.”

  “That was...generous,” Jesse noted.

  And, Maggie could tell by his tone, unexpected.

  “Everybody sit,” Laura directed, as Nina and Natalie began to set bowls and platters of food around the table. “Justin—you can pour the wine. Brad—get Noelle’s high chair from the kitchen. Jesse—you make sure everyone finds a seat. Nate—you come get the turkey.”

  Justin made his way around the table, pouring the wine. “Oops—forgot about the bun in the oven,” he said, lifting the bottle away from Maggie’s glass.

  “Gramma took the buns out of the oven,” seven-year-old Robbie said, pointing to the basket on the table.

  “Yes, I did,” Laura confirmed, sending a narrow-eyed look in her son’s direction.

  “What would you like to drink?” Natalie asked Maggie.

  “Water’s fine,” she replied, because glasses of that were already set around the table along with a pitcher for refills.

  When everyone was settled, Todd said grace, expressing thanks for the bountiful feast on the table and the gathering of family and friends. Then the bowls and platters were passed around, and people chatted easily as they filled their plates.

  Laura Crawford had indeed prepared enough food to feed an army—or at least the army reserves—confirming Jesse’s assertion that Maggie’s contribution was unnecessary. But she was pleased to note that Dallas’s three sons all wanted to try her mac and cheese.

  “What’s that?” Brad asked, warily eyeing the bowl that Jesse offered to him.

  “It’s coleslaw.”

  Brad scowled as he looked more closely at the salad. “But it’s got raisins...and nuts.”

  “And it’s delicious,” Natalie said.

  “Did you make this?” Brad asked his youngest sister.

  “Maggie did.”

  “Oh.” He glanced apologetically at his new sister-in-law. “I usually eat my fruit after dinner, inside a pie crust.”

  “He says as he spoons cranberry sauce onto his plate,” Nina noted drily.

  He scowled at that. “Cranberry sauce isn’t fruit—it’s a condiment.”

  “It’s fruit,” his mother informed him.

  “Well, my plate’s kind of full right now,” Brad said, passing the bowl of coleslaw to Nate’s fiancée, Callie, on his other side. “I’ll try some on the next go-round.”

  “Can I have some more mac ’n’ cheese?” Robbie asked, lifting his plate up.

  “Eat some of your veggies and meat first,” his father admonished.

  “But I like the mac ’n’ cheese best,” the little boy said.

  Which reassured Maggie that she’d at least made one good choice.

  “What kind of cheese is in that sauce?” Laura asked.

  “There are four different kinds,” Maggie said. “Cheddar, Asiago, Fontina and Parmigiano Reggiano.”

  “Do we carry those in the store?” Laura asked her oldest daughter.

  “Cheddar and Parmigiano,” Nina said. “But even I go shopping in Kalispell to pick up items that we don’t stock on a regular basis.”

  And all three of Dallas’s boys were devouring the mac and cheese carbonara as if they’d never tasted anything so good.

  Jesse slid an arm across her shoulders. “Better than the stuff that comes out of a box, that’s for sure.”

  “You haven’t tried the coleslaw.”

  “Fruit and nuts are for dessert,” he echoed his brother. “And I can say that because I don’t eat cranberry sauce, either.”

  Across the table, Justin was drowning his mashed potatoes in gravy as he spoke to Nate. “How is construction of the resort coming along?”

  Other conversations quieted as everyone wanted to hear the details. Maggie had been surprised to learn that, only a few months earlier, Nate had been thinking about leaving Rust Creek Falls. Instead, he’d decided to buy a piece of local property to open a resort, similar to what was in Thunder Canyon. Work had progressed steadily, and Maverick Manor was scheduled for a Christmas Eve grand opening.

  “Is there going to be a honeymoon suite?” Nina asked.

  “You’ve already had a honeymoon,” her oldest brother reminded her.

  “But Jesse and Maggie haven’t,” she pointed out.

  “There is a honeymoon suite,” Callie confirmed. “On the top floor, of course, with a gas fireplace in the lounge area and a jetted tub big enough for two in the bath.”

  “It sounds impressive,” Maggie said, because Callie seemed to expect her to say something.

  “Let us know when you’ve got a couple of days free and I’ll reserve it for you,” Nate promised.

  Jesse looked at his wife. “What do you think?”

  She was tempted to ask Nate if the room had two beds, because she didn’t think Jesse would be willing to go if they actually had to sleep under the same covers.

  “That’s a generous offer,” she said instead. “But we’re going to be in Los Angeles for Christmas this year.”

  Which would present them with the same dilemma under a different roof. As close as Maggie was to her parents, she didn’t want to explain to them that she wasn’t sharing a bed with her husband. So they were going to have to share a bed—or one of them would have to sleep on the floor, and it wasn’t going to be her.

  But they had several weeks before they had to worry about that. Right now, she was focused on getting through this holiday with Jesse’s family.

  She was grateful that his siblings seemed to have accepted her. His parents were still lukewarm, and she didn’t really blame them. They didn’t know her well enough to know that she hadn’t set out to trap their son.

  On the other hand, her parents didn’t know Jesse very well, either, but they didn’t blame him for the situation. Maybe because they at least knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t be here now if she didn’t want to be. Baby or no baby, she wouldn’t have married him if she didn’t love him. She wondered if Jesse was ever going to figure out the same thing.

  “How about New Year’s Eve?” Nate suggested now. “We’ve taken a few reservations for December 31 already, but the honeymoon suite is still available.”

  “I promise you’ll love it,” Callie said to Maggie. “The painting’s done and the window coverings are going to be installed this week. Then it’s just the finishing touches—bedding, towels, decorations, et cetera. If you get a chance, you should stop by for an informal tour.”

  Maggie appreciated the overture. “I’d like that—thanks.”

  “I’ll pencil you in for New Year’s Eve, then,” Nate decided.

  To which Homer responded, “We must rescue the child.”

  Maggie looked at Jesse, not sure if the old man was referring to their unborn child or Noelle or one of Dallas’s sons. The old man didn’t appear to be looking at anyone in particular but was staring at his plate and shaking his head. “We must save the child.”

  “Why’s he saying that?” Robbie asked Nina.

  “I have no idea,” she admitted to her youngest stepson.

  “He’s creepy,” Ryder muttered.

  Thankfully the boy was far enough away from Homer that the old man couldn’t hear him. And, truthfully, Maggie couldn’t help but agree, at least with respect to his behavior today.

  “Who wants pie?” Laura asked brightly.

  “I think we’re going to skip dessert and get the kids home,” Nina told her mother.

  The family matriarch looked as if she wanted to protest, then she glanced at Homer again and final
ly nodded. “I’ll get you some pie to take with you.”

  Nina and Dallas ushered the kids away from the table, and Homer turned his attention to Maggie.

  “We must rescue the child,” he told her, his tone imploring.

  While his eyes were on her, his gaze was unfocused, and she realized he wasn’t looking at her so much as past her.

  Were his strange prognostications merely the ramblings of a crazy old man—or were his words intended as some kind of warning to her? Was it possible that the child he was referring to was her own? And if so, why did he think her child needed to be saved?

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I think we should invite Homer Gilmore to the table every time we have dinner with your parents,” Maggie said to Jesse when they got home that evening.

  “Why is that?” her husband asked, sounding amused.

  “Because his sporadic outbursts meant that people were staring at him instead of me every once in a while.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  She shrugged.

  “Well, you survived your first Crawford family Thanksgiving relatively unscathed.”

  “Pun intended?”

  He just grinned.

  “Since it’s a day to count our blessings, I’ll say that your mother is a fabulous cook.”

  “And she always makes sure there’s enough so that everyone has some leftovers to take home.”

  “She even packed a turkey sandwich for Homer Gilmore before your dad took him back to town.”

  “Did he freak you out?”

  “Homer or your dad?”

  Her husband chuckled. “Homer.”

  She shrugged again. “Not really. Although sometimes, the way he looked at me when he talked about saving the baby, I wondered if he was talking about our baby.”

  “I don’t think even he knew what he was talking about,” Jesse said. “He’s just a crazy old man.”

  “Maybe,” she allowed. “But he seemed sincerely worried. Does he have any children?”

  “I have no idea. He’s not originally from around here. And while it’s hard to imagine him in a relationship with anyone, I suppose it’s possible.”

  “I just wish there was something I could do to help him.”