He drove back to the ranch, one hand slowly stroking her hair.
Everyone was waiting when Daniel carried her inside the big house. Even Jefferson and Emily were there. Once they were assured that Maggie, bumped and bruised, was fine—as was the baby—they gathered up Leandra and headed to their own place.
J.D. and Sarah both crawled onto Maggie’s bed when Daniel finally put her down in the middle of it. It was well after their bedtime, but seeing that Maggie was fine was more important. Though her head ached, she read the storybooks they carried downstairs and listened to their account of supper when Jaimie and Matthew had let them eat in the bunkhouse with Curly and the two ranch hands, Dwight and Monroe.
Finally, however, it was late enough that even their overexcited selves started to droop. Matthew and Jaimie scooted them upstairs to their bedroom.
With all the fussing and commotion suddenly done, Maggie looked across the room at Daniel. He was leaning against the dresser, his arms crossed over his wide chest. His hair was rumpled from his fingers raking through it, and his lean cheeks were gilded with stubble. He looked tired and stressed and so unutterably masculine that she could have cried. If her head hadn’t been throbbing so badly, she might have done just that.
As if he read her thoughts, he pushed away from the dresser and shook one of the pills out of the small bottle Rebecca had sent with them. He banded it to her, as well as the glass of water he’d placed on the nightstand earlier. He waited until she’d swallowed, then set the glass aside. “Need anything else?”
Maggie looked up at him, a prayer in her heart that she might have one more blessing in her lifetime. “You.” And it was so suddenly so easy. Regardless of what might happen in the future. Saying what was in her heart had never been more right. “I need you, Daniel.”
Daniel actually felt his heart jerk. Then she closed her hand around his and brought it to her soft lips, gently kissing his rough knuckles.
“Lie with me.” Her voice, low and husky, caressed.
Once, in his life, he’d turned away from her, thinking he was doing the right thing. He’d wanted her to ask him to stay. Had needed it. But she hadn’t, and he’d put his heart on ice and gone on.
Now she needed him.
He reached over and snapped off the light and sank down onto the bed beside her.
The quilt his mother had made so long ago was soft and warm against him, and he gathered Maggie close, their bodies fitting perfectly against each other. He could feel her breath, warm and sweet, against his throat.
And peace washed over him like a soft, soothing wave.
Chapter Fifteen
By the end of the next week Maggie was up and around again. Her elbow still ached when she was particularly active. For the most part, however, she was fine and dandy.
A sentiment shared when she drove herself into Weaver to visit Dr. Rebecca Morehouse. She’d already notified Dr. Foster’s office in Gillette that she’d decided to seek the medical care of Rebecca after all.
On her way home she stopped at the small post office located in the back of the feed and seed. There was a package there for her that the mail carrier hadn’t wanted to leave in the box at the main gate. She wasn’t surprised to see the return postmark of the mail-order company she dealt with. It was the latest set of catalogs and copies of new custom orders they’d received. She flipped through the catalog, smiling with pleasure when she saw the color photos of her wood ornaments, then absently riffled through the orders from across the states. There were three from Canada, one from London, even one from Costa Rica. She’d be busy until after Christmas with them.
Waving at Harvey, the attendant who’d handed over the package, she went back out to the truck she’d borrowed from the Double-C.
She drove back home, humming with the music from the radio. It hadn’t snowed in several days, and the day was bright and clear. She stopped at the mailbox at the gate and pulled out the bundle of mail from inside, dropped it on the seat beside her and headed up the gravel road toward the house. She parked next to Matthew’s new truck and hopped out, carrying the mail with her.
Squire, J.D. and Sarah were heading toward the horse barn and the kittens, no doubt, who were old enough now to be exploring the barn on their stubby little legs. Maggie called and waved to them, then dashed up the back steps, through the mudroom and into the kitchen where she left the mail on the table. Then it was downstairs to the guest suite where she put the last few items they had into the suitcases and boxes sitting on the bed.
They were officially moving to their new home that afternoon.
Tonight J.D. would sleep in her bedroom at the end of the hall with the beautiful window seat and the canopy bed fit for a princess. Maggie would move into the large master bedroom at the top of that grand staircase and sleep in the oceanic-wide bed that Daniel had had delivered. With him.
Thanks to Rebecca’s A-okay, Maggie held the secret knowledge close to her heart that when they did climb into that bed, they could do more than just sleep.
Her cheeks heated just thinking about it
When Jaimie found her staring dreamily into space, she only smiled and shook her head. “You planning to just sit there all afternoon, or let me drive you and J.D. over to the new place?”
Maggie jumped, dragging her thoughts together. Before she could have the night with him, she had to finish the myriad details of the day. Daniel would bring their suitcases and the last few boxes over when he came later that day. He’d had to run into Weaver again for something, and he’d said that he would meet them later at the new place.
Their new home.
“I’m ready.”
Jaimie grinned. “I told you everything would work out.”
Maggie took one last look at the living area of the guest suite. Then she looked at the diamond ring on her left hand.
So had Daniel. And now she’d even begun to believe in happy endings herself.
Happiness singing through her veins, she corralled J.D., and in minutes they’d set out. Her mood didn’t deflate even when Daniel was somewhat later than she’d expected that evening.
She simply left the dinner to warm in the oven in her beautiful new kitchen, fed J.D., then scooted her upstairs to the bath.
It was dark when Daniel finally drove home. It had taken him longer than he’d expected to pick up the scroll saw he’d ordered for Maggie’s shop, but when he drove toward the house that Maggie would turn into a home and saw the light shining from the windows, his impatience drained away.
He went in through the back to the scent of roast beef and baked potatoes.
The hardwood floors gleamed with a rich finish. The square mahogany table that Maggie had chosen ought to have seemed out of place among the gleaming, stainless steel appliances, yet it fit.
Carpet, depthless hunter green, cushioned his boots as he passed from the kitchen into the great room. He could hear the murmur of Maggie’s low voice and J.D.’s higher pitched chatter drifting down the stairs, and he headed up, then paused, listening to the ordinary discussion coming from the hall bathroom.
Daniel hardly remembered his mother, since she’d died when he was about J.D.’s age. If he thought about it hard, he figured what he remembered most was the way his mother had smelled of vanilla and flowers.
After that, the only female in the Clay household had been Emily.
His lips curved slightly as the chat between Maggie and J.D. continued. Only now the subject had changed to picking up the toys in the tub and rinsing the bubbles down the drain. He went up the rest of the stairs and propped his shoulder against the jamb, looking through the door she’d left open. J.D., blond hair water-dark and slicked back from her little oval face, was dressed in bright pink pajamas. Duchess—that stuffed horse she dragged everywhere with her—sat like a champion on the top of the counter.
Maggie’s hair was pulled back in an untidy knot, and when she leaned over the tub to gather up the rest of the toys, he could see the splashes of wa
ter across her loose shirt.
“Having fun?”
J.D. squealed and launched herself at his legs, staring up at him. He swallowed the dull ache inside him and swung her up into his arms.
Maggie pushed to her feet, her cheeks pink as she brushed self-consciously at her damp, rumpled shirt. She looked adorable and he slid his palm around her neck, planting a quick kiss on her lips.
She pulled away, her breathing uneven. “J.D.,” she said. “If you want to watch Lion King, you need to get to it right now. Otherwise you’ll have to go to bed before it’s over.”
J.D. squirmed and Daniel set her down. She grabbed Duchess and raced down the stairs as fast as her little legs would carry her. Within seconds, he heard the music from the popular video coming from the den where her favorite videos were stored on a shelf low enough for her to use.
He turned and caught Maggie’s expression. “Do you know,” he murmured, touching her petal-soft cheek, “what it does to a man to see his woman look at him with just that expression you have on your face?”
Her turquoise eyes widened. “The same thing it does to the woman, I suspect,” she answered unevenly. Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I kept supper for you.”
He found himself smiling slowly. Enjoyed watching the hectic color come and go in her cheeks. “Guess we should get to it, then,” he murmured.
She tilted her chin, giving him a look so unexpectedly saucy that he nearly groaned. She sashayed past him and he blew out a long breath, watching her hips as she slowly descended the stairs.
He watched her until she was safely down, then went into the bathroom attached to their room. He washed up and put on a clean shirt before going downstairs. He found her in the kitchen, holding a match to one of the two candlesticks she’d set at the end of the table near the two place settings. She’d removed her damp shirt to reveal a clinging blue turtleneck that hugged her figure over the floaty skirt that skimmed her slender ankles.
“I fed J.D. before her bath,” she said without looking at him. She shook out the match and tossed it in the trash before pulling a platter of sliced roast from the oven. He automatically took it from her, his hands brushing hers, and set it on the table. He caught the sideways looks she gave him as he helped her put the rest of their meal on the table.
“I’m not an invalid,” she finally said when he nudged her into her chair.
He sat down, too, and looked at her. “I know you’re not.” Then, drew in a long breath because she’d spent time preparing this meal and he would enjoy it even if his mind was more on the dessert end of things. A place his mind had no business visiting. Not since Maggie’s fall.
When they’d finished, however, Maggie placed a crystal dish in front of him and he stared at the dessert she’d planned. Chocolate mousse.
When she sat again and stared at her own serving he knew she was remembering that time, not so many days ago, when he’d wondered aloud which was sweeter The chocolate or Maggie.
Much as he loved the creamy confection, he couldn’t take one more minute of the torture and he pushed his chair back from the table with a soft screech. Maybe they couldn’t love each other yet the way he wanted, but he damn sure could sleep with her in his arms. He tucked Maggie’s hand in his and led her around to the den. They found J.D. sound asleep, snoring softly on the couch as her movie played.
Maggie shut off the television and the lights as he carried J.D.’s featherweight body up to her room. She didn’t stir a whit when they tucked her into her new bed.
Then it was just Maggie and him, standing at the foot of the wide bed m the privacy of their own new bedroom. He’d set a match to the fire in the fireplace, and the flames licked at the kindling, sending golden light dancing across Maggie’s hair.
He pulled the clip from her hair, threading his fingers through the moonbeam silk. She tilted her head into his touch, her eyes heavy in the firelight. “I saw Rebecca today,” she murmured.
“You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. The baby’s fine. Totally fine.”
He went still. “What are you saying?”
Her eyes met his. “I’m saying this is our first night in this house and we can, ah—”
“Are you propositioning me, Maggie Mae?”
Her cheeks colored wildly. “Maybe.”
He smiled faintly and drew her against him. “It’s about time.”
Her soft laughter soon turned to soft sighs when he lowered her to their bed and made her his.
He woke well before dawn, not sure what it was that jarred him from his sleep. The fire had burned way down to a faint glow. Maggie was snuggled up against him, her silken legs tangled with his. She was sound asleep.
He gently rearranged her and she sighed deeply, scooting right over onto his side of the bed when he climbed out of it, one creamy arm pulling his pillow next to her cheek.
Moving quietly, he pulled on his jeans and walked along the wide hallway to J.D.’s room. He knew before he reached it that it was her he’d heard. He went into the room and turned on the tiny light sitting on the shelf across from her bed.
She didn’t seem the least surprised to see him. Just held up her arms with childlike faith that he’d pick her up.
The hard knot in his gut was sudden and unrelenting. But he sat on the edge of the bed and slid her onto his lap, his jaw clenching when she rested her tousled blond curls so trustingly against his shoulder. “Aren’t you sleepy, J.D.?”
She tugged Duchess onto his lap with her. “When you get married wif Mama?”
“Next week. That okay with you?”
She yawned and nodded, sleepily nibbling on Duchess’s ear. “’Andra says you’re a uncle.”
“I’m Leandra and Sarah’s uncle,” he agreed.
“Yeah, but you gots to be a daddy now.”
Daniel nodded, absently rubbing her warm little back.
“Mama gots a baby in her tummy,” she piped after a moment.
“Mmm-hmm.” Thank God Maggie’s fall hadn’t ended that fact.
“Dannl?”
“What, snooks?”
“Are you my daddy now?”
He stiffened. But J.D. didn’t give him a chance to answer because she squirmed her little body around and threw her arms about his neck, pressing her little girl cheek against his. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, her little voice clear and sure.
Daniel heard a soft noise and looked up to see Maggie, wrapped in her robe, standing in the doorway.
The knot in his gut tightened until he couldn’t breathe He nudged J.D. onto her mattress, muttering something He had to get out of there. Had to—
Maggie fell back in surprise when Daniel thrust past her, striding toward the stairs, thundering down them. She quickly kissed J.D. and tucked her back into bed with Duchess the horse, then followed him.
Only he wasn’t inside the house, and she watched in horror as he strode across the cold ground behind the house, seemingly oblivious to the patches of thin snow under his bare feet, or the howlingly cold wind about his bare chest.
She shoved her feet into the pair of lined boots she’d left earlier m the mudroom and yanked her coat on over her robe, snatching up his shearling coat and a pair of rubber overboots, then hurried after him, wincing at the cold air.
She caught up to him when he stopped dead in his tracks and stared into the moonlit night. She walked around in front of him, but he didn’t seem to see her. “Daniel.” Her breath puffed in the air. “Darling, put on your coat.”
“Go away, Maggie,” he said hollowly.
Her fingers dug into the coat. “Daniel, it’s freezing. Put on your coat.”
A shudder ripped across his shoulders Still he didn’t reach for the coat and she swallowed the gnawing anxiety gripping her. She dropped the overboots on the ground and stepped around him, pushing his hands into the sleeves, then yanking the coat up over his shoulders.
She knelt at his feet and pushed and pulled at his jeans until he lifted one foo
t then the other, which she shoved into the boots. Flipping up the collar of her own coat, she straightened and started fastening the front of his.
“No,” he stopped her.
She stared up at him, trying not to cry with panic. Her hair blew around her head and she shoved it out of her eyes. “Daniel Clay, you either fasten your coat or I will.”
“Go inside.”
“Not without you.” She reached again for his coat, managing to get two buttons fastened with her cold fingers before he stopped her again.
“Your fingers are freezing,” he said through gritted teeth.
She yanked her hands free and pushed another button through. “I sort of noticed,” she retorted, shivering madly. “I’ll go in when you come with me.”
He stepped back, but she followed. “Dammit, Maggie Mae, get in the bloody house.”
“No!” She wrapped her cold hands around his coat and yanked the last two buttons together. “Not without you. Daniel, whatever is wrong, we can solve it inside.” She pressed her palms around his hands, rubbing against the cold. “You’ll feel better mside where it’s warm.”
“I don’t feel!”
Maggie fell back a step at his hoarse shout. “Wha—”
“I don’t feel anything,” he rasped. “Not warmth. Not cold. Not love. Not anything. I could hammer a million more nails and I still wouldn’t Now get in the goddamned house.”
She raked back her hair, struggling. “Don’t swear at me,” she said evenly. “Tell me what on earth hammering has to do with standing out here at three in the morning while we freeze off our rear ends!”
His jaw cocked. And his hands closed over her arms. “You’ll marry me. I’ll provide for you and J.D. and the baby. Because it’s the sensible thing to do.”
Maggie stared up at him, wishing she could see into his eyes. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to be sensible, Daniel. But that’s not why I’m marrying you. I’m doing that because I love you.” She felt him jerk, but her words didn’t pause. “And for no other reason. Not because I’m too pitifully loyal to break a promise. Or too afraid to make it on my own as a single parent. I love you. Maybe that means my brain is all clouded up, but I don’t care.” The night breeze whipped at her eyes, drying the tears that formed. “Now, please. Come inside. Let me take care of you for once ”
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