by Gina Wilkins
Maybe Maddie could teach him.
“It is a large house,” the agent was saying, cutting into Case’s daydream. “The people who built it came here from up north somewhere. They lived here until Mrs. Fielding wanted to go back to live near her grandchildren. They put the house on the market two years ago, but when it didn’t sell, they moved, anyway, and left it in my agency’s hands.”
Case rubbed a hand along the polished walnut banister. “Hmm,” he said, already half-sold. “Show me the rest.”
A vaguely speculative gleam appeared in the agent’s nervous eyes. She cleared her throat, squared her shoulders and went into a memorized spiel of the home’s many features. The three-car garage. The detached woodshop—Case had always wanted to play with power tools. He smiled.
She showed him the two-story-tall family room with its massive fireplace. The master bedroom with another fireplace, French doors leading to yet another covered porch, and a bay-windowed sitting room. A kitchen filled with efficient-looking appliances and dark oak cabinetry. A cozy, octagonal morning room, just right for intimate family breakfasts. Upstairs were four nice-size bedrooms, and a lounge/game room with yet another fireplace.
“I like it,” Case said.
The agent smiled, and suddenly she didn’t look quite so wary. “I’m sure you’d be very happy here,” she told him.
Case thought she might well be right. He hoped Maddie felt the same way.
* * *
“HE DID WHAT?” Telephone pressed to her ear, Maddie sank into the chair behind the cluttered desk in the restaurant office where she’d been doing weekly paperwork that afternoon.
“He made an offer on the Fielding place,” her friend Jill answered cheerfully. “Sherry Holder showed it to him. She’s so excited about the probable commission that she’s already ordered a new car from McKenzie’s Ford dealership.”
Maddie could hardly believe it. “Why on earth would Case want a house that big?” she asked.
“It is big for a single guy. Five bedrooms, five or six bathrooms, a library and a den and an upstairs lounge, three fireplaces—there’s even a butler’s pantry!”
“I’ve never been inside it, of course, but I hear the rooms are large and open and the ceilings are all high. Sherry once told me that the house costs a fortune to heat and cool,” Maddie mused out loud. She shook her head. “And I’ve also heard it has some maintenance problems that the Fieldings left unattended. Case couldn’t possibly know what he’s getting into.”
“Sherry swore to me that she told him everything. She said he didn’t even seem to hear the problems. He took one look at the place and said he wanted it.”
Maddie groaned. This, she decided, was getting out of hand. How could she have predicted that Case would run out and buy a house the day after arriving in town? Not that she was particularly surprised by his choice of houses. The Fielding place was big, impressive, a bit overdone. Like Case’s “courtship” of her.
The Fieldings had never really fit into Mitchell’s Fork society, nor had they tried particularly hard, which was why Maddie had never been inside the house. Case was an outsider who’d been attracted to a house built by outsiders. It figured.
“I’ve been in the place. Sherry took me through once, a few months ago,” Jill said. “It’s a beautiful house, really, but the color scheme is terrible. Too many pastels to really suit all the dark-stained wood trim. Being a man, Case probably didn’t even notice.” A hint of laughter entered her voice. “You know how I love decorating. I’ll be happy to help you pick new paints and carpets and wallpapers when you move in.”
“When I— Jill, I am not moving into the Fielding place!”
“Mmm. Tell that to your fiancé,” Jill teased. “Sherry said he must have mentioned you about fifty times during the three hours she spent with him.”
Maddie groaned. “I suppose she’s telling everyone that.”
“Most likely. I can’t wait to meet this guy.”
“Fine. I’ll introduce you. Maybe he’ll decide you’ll make a more suitable little wife for him.”
Jill laughed. “From everything I’ve heard about him, I’m beginning to wish he would. Lisa and Anita are telling everyone he’s very nice—in a deliciously dangerous sort of way. Lisa says Jeff is already nuts about him, and is even hinting that if you don’t want him, he wouldn’t mind his mom making a play for the guy. Sherry said he scared her half to death, but she couldn’t help noticing that he was about the sexiest male to ever appear in these parts. Jackson’s calling him the Terminator. He claims he was taking his life in his hands by going with you to the movie last night. Of course, he was laughing his fool head off the whole time he was saying all that. It was obvious he thinks the whole situation is hysterical.”
Maddie sighed heavily. She wasn’t surprised that Jill had heard all the gossip. Jill worked as a teller in the only bank in Mitchell’s Fork. Very little in the way of local news escaped her. “What am I going to do, Jill?”
“There’s only one thing for you to do,” her friend intoned solemnly.
“What?”
“Order a wedding gown. And you’d better ask me to be maid of honor, or I’m going to be royally—”
“Damn it, Jill, you’re as bad as Jackson! This is serious. The guy really thinks I’m going to marry him. He’s buying that house with the intention of living there with me!”
“According to your aunt and cousin, he has good reason to feel that way,” Jill said a bit more seriously. “They said he implied that you would already be married if he hadn’t been called away from Cancú on business. Is that true, Maddie?”
Maddie could almost picture herself entering Señor Ruiz’s little office, wearing her white eyelet sundress, trembling but determined. And, though she cringed to admit it now, she knew that if Case had been waiting for her then, she would have married him. Just like that.
“Maddie?” Jill prodded after a moment.
Maddie swallowed. “Yes. I guess it is true. But—”
“I can’t believe you never said anything about it to me when you got home.” Jill spoke quietly, with attempted nonchalance, but Maddie heard a touch of hurt in her friend’s voice. Very similar to the pain she’d heard in her father’s voice the evening before.
She hadn’t meant to hurt them. She’d been tempted on more than one occasion to confide in them, and tell them what she’d been going through for the past six months. But she just hadn’t been able to talk about this. She hadn’t been able to explain how Case had made her feel, how he’d smiled at her and taken her hand and she’d tumbled into love with him, even though he was a stranger to her. And she couldn’t admit to them how humiliated she had been when she’d realized how gullible, how vulnerable she must have seemed to him.
“I’m sorry, Jill. I just...couldn’t.”
“Yeah, sure. I understand.” But it was obvious that she didn’t, not entirely. “I’d better let you get back to work. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, and Maddie?”
“Yes?”
“I know I’ve been teasing you a lot about this, but if you really need to talk...I’m here, okay?”
Maddie’s eyes felt suddenly damp. “I know, Jill. And thanks. I might just take you up on that.”
“Anytime, kid. Bye.” She hung up before Maddie could reply.
Maddie buried her face in her hands and groaned loudly.
Why had she ever filled out that stupid sweepstakes entry form at the supermarket? How could she have known that she would be changing her entire life by doing so?
* * *
CASE PUT the windows of the Ferrari down that evening to allow him to enjoy the fragrant, warm, spring air. It was just after 6:00 p.m., and he was hungry. He figured it was time to sample the menu at Mike and Maddie’s place.
One arm propped comfortably on the open window frame, he braked for a red light, humming beneath his breath with the song playing on the radio. He felt good. H
e hoped Maddie was in a more approachable mood this evening.
A shiny, chrome-and-lights-bedecked pickup truck pulled up beside him in the left-turn lane. Heavy metal music blasted from the open windows of the pickup, drowning the oldies station Case had tuned in to. Three teenage boys were crowded into the seat of the truck, one in an oversize Western hat, the other two in baseball caps. All of them were studying the Ferrari.
The truck’s driver revved the engine, making Case suspect the vehicle had been modified for speed and power. He glanced sideways, noted the punks looked as if they were itching for trouble and decided to ignore them. He looked at the traffic light, willing it to change to green.
“Hey,” the boy sitting closest to Case called out. “How fast does that thing go?”
Case debated answering for a moment, then sighed lightly and said, “It goes the speed limit.”
The boys snickered, and made jeering remarks. The truck engine revved again, remaining in place even though the turn arrow had lighted. “C’mon, Grandpa. Let’s see what that pansy little Eye-talian skateboard can do,” the driver yelled.
Case thought he caught the smell of beer through the open windows. He slanted his most intimidating look at the troublemakers. “Better hurry home, boys. Your mamas are calling you.”
He probably shouldn’t have provoked them that way, but being called grandpa had smarted his pride. Hell, he was only thirty-five. He could easily beat the living daylights out of any one of these runny-nosed punks—all three at once, for that matter. And then he reminded himself that he wanted to fit in here. Beating up the local progeny was probably not the best way to ingratiate himself with the townspeople.
His light changed to green before the boys could recover enough to retaliate. Case pressed the accelerator, and left them behind in a blur of finely tuned Italian engine power. He checked the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t following, and was relieved to see that they were nowhere in sight.
Maybe they’d been all talk, he thought, relaxing again. Just having a little fun. In the future, he would try harder to remember that he was a civilian now, that there were no longer enemies lurking behind every bush.
The first thing Case noticed when he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant was that it was empty. Completely. Frowning, he pulled up to the front and read the hours posted on the entrance door.
Well, hell. The restaurant closed after lunch on Sundays and didn’t reopen until 11:00 a.m. on Tuesdays. So where was a hungry guy supposed to eat on Monday evening?
It occurred to him that maybe Maddie hadn’t eaten yet, either. Maybe it wasn’t too late to convince her to dine with him.
He turned the car around and headed toward her home.
* * *
“I‘VE BEEN WONDERING when you were going to show up,” the housekeeper drawled when he opened the door to Case.
Uncertain how to take Frank’s words, Case cleared his throat. “Is Maddie in?”
“Yeah. She’s in the backyard, feeding the dogs.”
Case took a step backward. “I’ll just go around and look for her, then.”
“You staying for dinner again?”
“I thought I’d ask Maddie to have dinner out with me.”
Frank shrugged. “Just let me know how many places to set at the table.” With that, he closed the door.
Case shook his head and followed the sidewalk around the side of the house in search of Maddie. He thought again that she certainly lived in an odd household—or at least, he considered the people who lived here odd. Of course, they probably felt the same way about him.
He found Maddie pouring dry dog food into two large aluminum bowls while the dogs danced impatiently nearby. “All right, guys, wait a minute, will you?” she grumbled, pushing one mutt out of the way when he almost knocked her over trying to get to his dinner. “Jeez, you’d think you hadn’t eaten in weeks.”
She looked great, Case decided, standing quietly behind her, unobserved. She was wearing snug jeans, a close-fitting pink T-shirt and white leather sneakers. Her softly gleaming hair swung free around her face. He was finally getting used to her new image—in fact, as attracted as he’d been to her before, he found her even more desirable now. Something told him he would have felt the same way even if she hadn’t changed at all.
Glasses or contacts, mousy brown or sexy gold-streaked hair—it made no difference to him. He wanted Maddie, and the months he’d spent away from her had only increased that hunger.
The dogs attacked their bowls, wolfing down the kibble with loud crunches and appreciative wriggles. Maddie watched them for a moment, chuckling, then turned and spotted Case. The large plastic pitcher that had held the dog food hit the ground with a thud.
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks flaming. “You startled me.”
“Sorry.”
She bent to retrieve the pitcher. She seemed to have regained her composure by the time she straightened again. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to ask you to dinner.”
“You could have called.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I thought you’d be working tonight. I stopped by the restaurant and found out it’s closed on Mondays.”
She nodded, twisting the pitcher between her hands.
“So, how about it?” he prodded. “Dinner?”
“I’m really not dressed to go out.”
“You look fine.” He motioned toward his own khaki slacks and cotton sport shirt. “We’ll go someplace casual.”
“I was planning to do some paperwork tonight.”
“We’ll make it an early evening, then,” he said promptly, torn between amusement and exasperation at her obvious stalling. “It’s only dinner, Maddie.”
She sighed. “All right, I’ll go. I want to talk to you, anyway,” she added rather ominously.
Case could have wished for a bit more enthusiasm on her part, but he decided not to press his luck. “Whatever you say, Maddie.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right,” she muttered. “I just wish it was that easy.”
Before he could comment, she stepped around him. “I’ll go in and wash up. I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes.”
“You’re not asking me in?”
“And give you a chance to start planning a wedding with my family? I think not.”
He laughed. “You don’t trust me an inch, do you, sweetheart?”
To his secret delight, she blushed again in response to the endearment, though she scowled ferociously at him. “Not an inch,” she assured him flatly.
It was all he could do not to kiss her silly right there on the spot. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Out front. Ten minutes,” he said.
She nodded curtly. And then she turned and stalked into the house.
You’re mine, Maddie Carmichael, Case thought, watching her retreat to the house. What’s it going to take for me to convince you?
Whatever it was, he would do it. Case Brannigan never accepted failure when he set his sites on an objective. And he’d never wanted anything more than Maddie Carmichael as his wife.
6
“THIS IS the first time I’ve really been alone with you since I arrived in Mitchell’s Fork,” Case said with great satisfaction a half hour later.
From across the booth, Maddie raised an eyebrow and glanced around the moderately crowded pizza parlor. “I wouldn’t exactly call this being alone.”
He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”
A plump waitress approached the table, order pad in hand. “Hey, Maddie,” she said by way of greeting. “This the guy everyone’s been talking about?”
Maddie made a face. “Probably. JoNell, this is Case Brannigan. Case, JoNell Cushing. She and I went to junior high together.”
“Nice to meet you,” Case said, wondering if the rather dour-looking woman ever smiled.
“Same here. Y’all ready to order?”
Maddie seemed relieved that JoNell wasn’t inclined to
stay and visit. “I’ll have the salad bar and a diet cola,” she said briskly.
Case frowned. “You don’t like pizza?”
“Of course. But it’s terribly fattening...”
Case waved off the rest of her excuse. “Bring us a large pizza. With everything,” he added. “And I’ll have a beer.”
JoNell shook her head. “This is a dry county, mister.”
“Oh. Well, a cola, then.”
“You got it.” JoNell stuck the pencil behind her ear and ambled away.
Case turned back to Maddie, only to find her tapping the laminated tabletop with one finger, a scowl creasing her forehead. “Why did you do that?” she demanded.
“Do what?”
“You know what. You ordered pizza, even though I’d just said I wanted the salad bar.”
“Did you look at the salad bar on the way in? There’s nothing on it but lettuce and a few limp-looking vegetables.”
“Still, it was what I wanted—and you had no right to cancel my order. The only reason I didn’t say anything in front of JoNell is that I didn’t want to add to all the gossip going around about us.”
“JoNell didn’t look like a gossiper to me,” Case remarked, considering the woman’s brusque, no-nonsense manner.
“Then maybe you should look again. She wallows in it. Just like most everyone else around here. There’s little else to do for entertainment.”
Relieved that she’d gotten distracted from his unintentional arrogance in ordering the pizza, Case pursued the subject. “When we met in Cancú, you told me you loved your hometown. Why are you suddenly so critical of it?”
“I do love my hometown,” she answered defensively. “It’s just...well, I’ve started to realize that there’s so much more to experience out there. So many things I’ve never done. And I think it’s past time I find out what they are.”
Case shook his head. “We’re back to that, are we?”
“Yes. Nothing has changed.”
He was torn between shaking her and hugging her. He realized now that he must have hurt her badly in Cancú, and he didn’t blame her for being a bit wary of him now. But couldn’t she see what a mistake she would be making if she set out on her own, unprepared for what she might find during those romantic adventures about which she fantasized? Case knew what was out there, all too well. Maddie didn’t have a clue.