by Carol Voss
Would Tony miss his child if he knew he had one? Would he look at every little girl close to her age and wonder what his own daughter was like? Would he long to see her? Wonder if she was happy and loved?
“You okay?” Tony asked.
Crashing back to the present, she met his gaze, considered telling him what his running away and staying lost for five years had cost. After all, the least he could do was share her pain.
Hannah set steaming food in front of them and took their salad plates.
Tony dug in with gusto.
Maggie looked at the best chicken potpie this side of heaven, her appetite in shreds. If not for Hannah’s timing, she might very well have lashed out at Tony with the truth.
But he wasn’t with her when she’d needed him so desperately. He hadn’t even let her know where he was so she could tell him she was pregnant. Or let him know when their baby was born so she could beg him to come home to help her keep their child.
And now?
Dear God, what good could possibly come from telling him he has a daughter ten years after the fact?
Chapter Four
Tony sat at the table in Nonna’s ancient kitchen, sounds of a chase scene blaring from Hannah and Lucas’s movie in the living room. He stared at the blinking cursor on his laptop. Struggling to keep his mind on his email to his foreman, he keyed in a few more words, deleted them, stared at the cursor again.
Finally, he sat back in his chair and let his gaze drift to the closed door to the small room off the kitchen where Maggie had disappeared when they got home from the diner.
He rubbed the back of his neck. She’d claimed starvation, but when the food came, she’d barely touched it. And gotten really quiet. And now she was hiding. Obviously, something was wrong.
He didn’t have to think too hard to figure out a reason. His blowup with Nonna couldn’t have been fun to watch. Then she’d tried to cheer him up after his run-in with Nonna, and he’d responded by acting like a jerk. Nice going, Stefano.
He stood and strode to the refrigerator. He needed to do something to make it up to her.
* * *
Maggie lay on her stomach on the rug in her little office, doing her best to focus on the computer printouts and financial reports surrounding her. The sounds of speeding cars and gunshots emanated from the living room. But what really messed with her concentration were the occasional small sounds Tony made in the kitchen.
Well, the fact that he was in the kitchen at all.
She understood why Stella wanted him to stay in his childhood home, but that didn’t mean his being here wasn’t causing havoc with Maggie’s nerves. She blew out a breath. Having him home was…difficult.
Doing her best to focus on her notes, she squinted in the dim glow cast by the beautiful, old crystal ceiling light. Trimming this, tucking that from her budget, she’d eked out the few thousand dollars she needed for the downstairs bathroom. But as hard as she looked, she just couldn’t afford to cut anything else to pay for additional repairs the house needed.
She’d have to go deeper in debt. But financial risk was a small price to pay compared to risking Stella’s will to recover. Ignoring the tension cramping her shoulders, she flipped the page of her yellow notepad and continued outlining a plan to present to a loan officer to prove she qualified for another loan.
A rap on the door made her drop her pencil.
“How long are you planning to hide?” Tony’s low voice rumbled.
His voice sent an uneasy tingle along her nerves. Frowning, she shook her head. “I’m working, and I don’t want to be interrupted.”
“Can I help?”
Just what she needed. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
A pause.
“Look, Maggie…I’m sorry I was such a jerk at the diner.”
“You weren’t a jerk.”
“Yes, I was. What happened? I could always count on the truth from you.”
Apparently, things had changed. She drew in a deep breath. “All right. You were kind of a jerk. Apology accepted. Now, I really need to get back to work.”
“Come on, Blossom. I’m trying to make it up to you. And I thought maybe we could talk about that game plan you said you’d help me with. Will you let me in?”
“Can’t. Sorry.”
“Come on, Maggie. Apologizing through a door is the pits.”
The very last thing she needed was his invading her office. If not wanting to see him wasn’t enough, her office was a mess. The desk, the floor…papers were spread all over. And she didn’t want him figuring out what she was up to either. He’d only give her more grief about putting money into Stella’s house. “Sorry.”
“I’m coming in at the count of three.”
Touching the towel turban wrapping her head, she looked down at her Green Bay Packers shirt and lounging pants. No. Absolutely not. “Don’t you dare.”
“One.”
If only the door had a working lock. She dropped the notepad. Call it vanity, but she didn’t want him seeing her like this. “I’m not decent.”
“Then get decent.”
“Tony, I’m warning you…” She began unclasping the towel on her head. Not good. Her hair had mostly dried by now and would be squiggled in all directions. She hated that.
“Two.”
She glanced around the room. No place to hide and no way to escape except through the window.
“Three. You decent yet?”
With a sigh, she reclasped the towel. Avoiding the reports and papers stacked in untidy piles, she scrambled to sit up, her legs tucked under her. “All right. Come in if you must.”
The door opened wide. He filled the doorway like a stalwart oak—tall and sturdy and strong. But the restless tension in his muscles was incompatible with any oak she’d ever seen. His thick black hair was tousled, his brawny chest and biceps strained the fabric of his black T-shirt, his jeans hugged narrow hips and muscular thighs. His presence filled the room.
She drew a breath. Dear God, please help me get rid of him without letting him see how frazzled he makes me feel.
Balancing a tray with two glasses of soda on it, he gave her an apologetic little grin. “My peace offering.”
“Thank you, I think,” she stammered. “But like I said, I’m working, so my heart is occupied.” Heart? Had she said heart? “Head. My head is occupied.”
He gave her a little frown and scanned the room. “It looks like you had an explosion in here.”
“Lots of work.” She watched him zero in on the colorful paper and magazine cutouts on her desk.
“Work?”
“I’m making posters for the dairy breakfast. It’s the big church benefit for the summer.”
“Ah, I guess that explains why you’re working on the floor. But what are you working on?”
“Stuff.”
“None of my business?” An amused smirk danced around his full lips. His smirk breaking into a grin, he balanced the tray in one hand, bent to pick up a stack of papers and smoothly lowered himself to the floor without spilling a drop of soda.
Power, grace and efficiency all wrapped in a body of steel. Too bad his roots were as shallow as a poplar’s. From the letters and emails he began sending Stella five years ago, Maggie knew he hadn’t stayed in one place very long.
She tore her gaze from his impressive biceps to look at the tray he’d set beside her. He’d actually found a bud vase and cut one of the yellow antique roses climbing the front porch. His thoughtful gestures had always melted her heart. Tears stinging her eyes, she did her best to hide her feelings by bending to smell the musky scent of the old-fashioned rose. “I see you still have an artist’s eye.”
“Thank you. I recognize
beauty when I see it.” Handing her a glass of soda, a smile spread across his face.
She caught her lips returning his smile and whipped them into line. She took a sip of soda, carbonation tickling her nose and adding to her discomfort. “Thank you for the soda, but I really need to work.”
“You’re dismissing me?”
“Your insight amazes me.”
Reaching for a stack of papers beside her, his hand brushed her arm.
Her stomach did a flip. A wave of panic threatened. How was she going to get him out of there?
Hannah popped her head in the door. “I’m making popcorn for Lucas and me. You guys want some?”
“Thanks,” Tony answered. “I never turn down popcorn.”
“Okay.” Hannah looked at Maggie. “How many minutes should I set the microwave for?”
“Push the popcorn button on the microwave. It does all the timing for you.”
“Thanks.” Hannah bustled away.
A brief interruption but it gave Maggie a chance to get her bearings. What had her in such a tizzy anyway? It wasn’t like she’d never been alone with a man before.
Of course, this wasn’t just any man, she reminded herself. This was Tony. Her first love. The boy who’d left her behind without caring about her tender heart. The man who still loved roaming the world like a gypsy.
She needed to pull herself together so she could figure out a way to get him out of her office. Maybe discussing what he could do about his nonna would give him something to mull over so he’d leave. “About Stella, Tony…”
“Yeah…” He looked intently into her eyes.
Her mouth suddenly going dry, she swallowed and hung on to her bearings. “You do know you have to keep your dad out of any conversation with her, don’t you?”
“Fine by me. She’s the one who keeps bringing him up.”
“You need to change the subject.”
“I tried,” he said emphatically. “You were there.”
“Well, in the future, change to something the two of you agree on.”
“Like what?”
“Good question.” She sighed. “Not moving from the house.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You already made your point on that.”
“Not Noah’s Crossing. Or doctors. Or South America.” Slowly, a plan began to unfold in her mind. “Maybe it would help if she could see you’re working toward her coming home where she wants to be.”
“Are you talking about her house again?”
She nodded. “What about the ramp? I’m sure you could build one in a matter of hours. We could take a picture of it to show her.”
Scowling, he shook his head. “Her house is just plain inadequate for her. Period.”
She gave him an “oh, please” look. “The ramp would show her you care what she wants.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Come on, Maggie, give me a plan I can get behind.”
She threw up her hands. “You traveled all the way from Brazil to make peace with your nonna. To make that happen, did it ever occur to you that at least one of you is going to have to bend?”
He leveled his gaze on her. “Then it will have to be me.”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, boy.” He rammed his fingers through his hair. “We never agreed on anything…but food.”
A lightbulb idea. “There you go. Stella loves Della’s sticky buns. Start by taking her some of those. A small plan, but one you can expand on.”
He studied the rug for several seconds, then raised his gaze to meet hers. “I guess it’s worth a try. Thanks, Blossom. I could always count on you.”
“You’re the one who thought about food.” Now he’d leave so she could get back to her plan. She glanced around for her yellow notepad.
“Will you go with me to see her tomorrow?” Tony asked.
“Do you promise to behave?”
“Cross my heart.” He soberly drew an x across his chest with his finger.
Her gaze got stuck first on his fingers, then on his broad chest. She scrambled to remember Stella’s schedule. “Stella’s physical therapy is at nine. She’ll need rest afterward. How about meeting me at the rehab center about eleven?”
“Eleven it is. I appreciate it, Maggie.”
“I’ll add it to your bill.” Done. Over. Out.
“Right.” He dropped his gaze to the stack of papers he’d balanced on his knees. “’Scapes by Design.’ Looks like a landscaping business. Yours?”
“Yes. You can put those down.” She pointed to indicate where he should put the reports, her gaze scanning the area for the yellow pad with her notes for getting a loan.
He turned and put down the stack of papers, pausing to look at a report in another stack. “And you own a plant retail outlet? ‘Magnolia’s Blossoms’?” He grinned. “Nice name. Two businesses must keep you busy. No wonder you’re working tonight.”
She frowned. He’d never been this chatty. “And I have more work to do,” she said pointedly.
He ignored her comment. “Nonna wrote that you sold your parents’ hardware store after they died. But how did you pull off two businesses?”
“Weren’t you about to leave so I can get back to work?”
“I’m interested in what you’ve been up to since I went away. Something you don’t want me to know about?”
“Not at all.” Not about her businesses anyway. She was proud of what she’d accomplished. She sighed. It seemed he was set on hanging out and no amount of plan solving was going to budge him.
“So you sold the hardware store and…”
“You are every bit as stubborn as Stella can be when she wants me to open up.” She tossed him an irritated glance.
“Then talk to me, Blossom. Do you have any idea how far it is from Brazil to Wisconsin? Yet, here I am.”
“You’re trying to make me feel guilty?”
“Just reminding you of your manners. After all, technically, I am your guest.”
She rolled her eyes.
“So you sold the hardware store and…” he repeated, giving her a look that said he didn’t plan to budge anytime soon.
She guessed she might just as well talk. “I hated selling the store, but I didn’t know much about hardware and absolutely nothing about running a business.”
“Understandable. You were just a kid.”
After all she’d been through at that point, “just a kid” hardly described her. “Stella and her lawyer thought I should put the money from the store away for college. But I decided to pay off the mortgage on the farm instead, then I borrowed against the farm for tuition when I needed it. And I worked for a landscaper in the summers.”
“Smart. Did you graduate in landscape architecture?”
She nodded. “Then I worked for a landscaping company in Madison for a year to gain experience and pay off a chunk of my college debts.”
“You must have had a lot of options. Why in the world did you come back to Noah’s Crossing?”
His disparaging tone set her teeth on edge. She shot him a narrow look.
He raised his eyebrow. “What I mean is, opening a business is risky. You’re obviously making a success of not one but two. What made you think you could pull it off here?”
He seemed sincere enough. “I had the farm. Noah’s Crossing was growing and didn’t have a landscaping company. It’s the best decision I ever made. I love Noah’s Crossing.”
“Ambitious woman.” He ignored her last comment.
No surprise there.
“Those new houses on Doc Tilbert’s place. Did you do their landscaping?”
“Most of them. I didn’t like seeing his farm developed, even if it did
help me whittle down the loan I’d taken against the farm for start-up capital. So when I needed a better source for landscaping plants last summer, I built the greenhouse and started my own retail plant outlet.” She took a sip of soda and set the glass on the tray.
He picked up the yellow notepad and studied it.
The pad with her notes on it? Where had it been?
“This looks like a plan to get a loan.”
She didn’t need another argument about Stella’s house. She reached for the tablet.
He gave it to her. “I suppose you’ve figured out you can’t swing a loan.”
“My, aren’t I lucky I won’t be applying to you to get one?” she asked sarcastically.
“You have significant assets to protect. You can’t afford to flirt with being overextended. What do you need another loan for anyway?”
“None of your business.”
“You’re trying to find money to sink into this place?”
“You don’t need to worry about it, Tony. I’m working on a plan.”
He gave a grunt of obvious disapproval.
She ignored it. “I can make Stella’s ten acres pay off by hiring more employees to plant gardens and tend the flowers—”
“A catch-22.” He set his empty glass on the tray. “Will you have cash flow to meet payroll for more employees until the land starts paying off?”
He’d zeroed right in on the problem. Obviously, he had a good head for business.
He tapped the paper with his index finger. “So far, you’re doing a great job making debt work for you. I know if I hadn’t gone into debt, I wouldn’t have been able to buy my first piece of heavy equipment. But you’re already carrying a heavy load. You could risk your whole operation going under.”
Unfortunately, her head told her he was right. But her heart, well, her heart couldn’t afford to listen. Not with Stella counting on coming back to her home. “I’ll find a way to make it work.”
His rugged features softened. “You still never give up, do you, Blossom?”
The warmth in his tone stirred memories of the deep connection they’d shared. Of secrets revealed, pacts forged, calamities overcome. He’d understood her, accepted her, encouraged her when she’d messed up.