by Irene Hannon
Maggie’s startled gaze flew to his, and she tried to sit up, whacking her forehead on the pipe in the process. “Ouch!” She clapped her hand to her head and let the wrench drop to the floor.
Jake was instantly contrite. “Maggie, are you all right?” Without waiting for a reply, his hands circled her slender waist and he gently tugged her into the open until she sat on the floor beside him, her head bowed.
“I can’t believe I did that,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “After all the sinks I’ve been under, to pull a stupid stunt like that...”
“I shouldn’t have startled you. Let me check the damage.” He pried her hand off her forehead and frowned at the rapidly rising lump. “This needs ice right away.” He rose and reached for her hand, drawing her swiftly to her feet in one smooth motion, then guided her to a chair. “Sit tight. What were you doing under there, anyway?” he asked over his shoulder as he headed toward the freezer.
“Pop said it was clogged. I figured I could probably fix it. I was checking it out when you walked in.”
“I found some rags, Maggie. They were right where...” Howard stopped abruptly at the garage door. “What happened?” he asked in alarm.
“I hit my head,” Maggie explained quickly. “Jake is fixing me an ice pack.”
“I knew I shouldn’t let you tackle that plumbing. That’s not woman’s work,” Howard fretted.
“Oh, Pop, don’t be silly. I do this all the time at home. Women are liberated these days, you know.” Jake handed her the homemade ice pack—ice cubes in a plastic bag wrapped in a dish towel—and she clamped it against her head, wincing as the cold made contact with her tender skin. “Thanks. I think.”
Howard snorted in disgust. “Liberated! You mean free to do all the dirty work? Doesn’t sound very liberating to me.”
Maggie chuckled. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way, but you have a point,” she conceded.
“We seem to be in short supply when it comes to tools around here, Maggie, but if you’ll let me borrow a couple of these, I’ll fix the drain,” Jake said.
“Are you sure? I really am pretty good at this. I don’t mind finishing up.”
“Let Jake do it,” Howard told her. “He should have done it in the first place anyway.”
Maggie looked at Jake, saw his lips compress into a thin line at the criticism, and decided that this was a good time to make her exit. “Well, in that case, I’ll head home. We have a full house tonight, and I need to be on hand to greet the guests.”
“I’ll bring the tools back in a day or so,” Jake promised as he walked her to the door.
“No hurry. Hopefully I won’t need them before then anyway.” She turned and smiled at Howard, who had followed them. “Goodbye, Howard.”
“Goodbye, Maggie. Thank you for the tour. And lunch. It was real nice.”
“You’re very welcome. I enjoyed it a lot.”
Maggie turned to go, only to find Jake’s hand at her elbow. She looked up at him questioningly.
“I’ll see you to your car.”
Maggie shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
They walked in silence, and even though Maggie’s head was starting to throb, she was acutely conscious of Jake’s nearness, of the warmth of his hand on her bare skin and the faint, woodsy scent, uniquely his and achingly familiar. She had all but forgotten that scent. But standing so close to him now, she was reminded with startling intensity of all the times this man had held her in his arms, had caressed her face, had claimed her lips. But how could she still find him attractive after what he’d done to her? She’d been burned once. Shouldn’t she be immune to his appeal?
Jake glanced down at Maggie’s bowed head as they approached the car. She seemed lost in thought. Where are you, Maggie? he asked silently. Are you remembering, as I am? Gently, as unobtrusively as possible, he rubbed his thumb over the soft skin on her arm, recalling a time when she’d welcomed his touch. His happiest memories, his times of greatest contentment, were linked with this woman, he realized.
His gaze lingered on her glorious hair, as beautiful as ever. It was the kind of hair a man could get lost in—full and thick and inviting his hands in to play. But those old, sweet days were gone, he reminded himself. And yet...he felt the same as he had twelve years before. The astounding attraction—physical, emotional and intellectual—was still there. Did she feel it as intensely as he did? he wondered. And was it real? Or was it just fed by memories of what had once been, reawakened temporarily by the strange coincidence of their reunion?
“I’ll hang on to the ice bag, if that’s all right,” Maggie interrupted his thoughts when they reached the car, trying with limited success to keep her voice steady.
With an effort he forced his lips up into a grin as he opened her door. “Such as it is. And thanks for taking time for Dad today. I know he appreciated it.”
“It was no effort. He’s a good man, Jake. He’s just dealing with an awful lot right now.”
“I know it’s tough for him. I wish I could make it easier. But I can’t reach him, Maggie. He shuts me out.” He sighed and raked the fingers of one hand through his hair as he glanced back toward the cottage. “I had hoped that if we actually lived under the same roof he might come around. But I’m beginning to lose hope.”
“Give it some time,” she urged, impulsively laying her hand on his arm. “You and he have been apart for so long that you need to get to know each other again before you can feel comfortable together.”
Jake smiled gently as he glanced down at her hand resting on his arm, then covered it with his. “You know, when I talk to you, I don’t feel quite so hopeless. Why is that, Maggie?”
Her gaze locked with his, and for just a moment, the tender look in his eyes, the warmth of his voice, made her feel sixteen again. Made her want to be sixteen again. Which was bad. What was past could never return. She needed to remember that. She was not going to get caught up in the romantic fantasies that Abby and Allison were weaving. They were eighteen. She was almost thirty-seven—far to old to believe in fairy tales and happy endings.
With an abruptness that momentarily startled Jake, Maggie removed her hand and stepped away.
“I don’t know. But maybe I should bottle it,” she said with forced brightness as she slid into the car. “Call it Dr. Maggie’s elixir. See you later, Jake.” She started the engine, put the car in gear and drove away without a backward look.
Jake watched her go, a troubled look on his face, then slowly walked back to the house. His father met him at the door.
“She going to be all right? That was a nasty bump.”
“She’ll be fine, Dad.” Physically, at least. Emotionally, he wasn’t so sure. About either of them.
Chapter Six
Great. Just great.
Maggie stared down in disgust at the decidedly flat tire. Naturally this couldn’t have happened in town. That would be too easy. It had to happen in the middle of nowhere—namely, an isolated spot on the remote Cape Rosier loop.
A drop of water splashed onto her cheek, and she closed her eyes with a sigh of resignation. Now it was raining. That figured. And it only made sense that the air would take a turn toward the chilly side. Where was the warm sun and lovely light she’d had earlier while she was painting?
Gone, obviously, she thought with a disgusted glance at the rapidly darkening sky. As were her hopes of anyone appearing along this stretch of deserted road, she concluded. Other than walking two or three miles to a house, her only option was to change the tire herself. Suddenly she sneezed, groping in her pocket for a tissue as she sniffled. On top of everything else, she seemed to be coming down with a bug of some kind. So what else could go wrong today? she wondered in dismay.
Maggie climbed back into the car, allowing herself a moment to regroup before tackling the job
ahead of her. She put her forearms on the wheel and wearily rested her cheek against them, angling her head away from the bruised spot on her temple that was a souvenir of her plumbing adventure the week before. She hadn’t seen Jake since then, although Howard had called once in the middle of the week. He said he was just checking to see how she was, but she suspected that he was simply lonely. It was so sad, the two of them sharing a house yet both so alone. Jake was trying—she knew that. But his attempts at reconciliation were rebuffed at every turn. In a way she felt sorry for him.
It was odd, this feeling of sympathy she had for Jake. And it was certainly a surprising—and ironic—twist, considering their history. But what surprised her even more was the spark between them. How could her response to him suddenly reactivate after lying in disuse for so long? One smoky look from those deep brown eyes was all it had taken to make her feel sixteen again. It has been so long since she’d felt the tremulous, breathless sensation of physical attraction that she’d even forgotten how to handle it. And she didn’t want to relearn that lesson. What she wanted to do was turn those feelings off. That, however, didn’t seem to be an option, she admitted with a sigh. But she could choose not to act on them. And she so chose.
For the moment, though, she would do better to focus her attention on a more pressing problem. The flat tire wasn’t going to fix itself, after all. So, with a resigned sigh, she got out of the car and opened the trunk.
Maggie eyed the spare tire and jack uncertainly. She’d changed a tire before, of course. Once. A long time ago. In a basic car-maintenance class she’d taken. Under the watchful eye of the instructor. The procedure was a bit hazy after all this time. But it would come back to her, she told herself encouragingly.
Maggie removed the spare tire without too much difficulty, then got down on her hands and knees to look under the car, trying to figure out where to put the jack. She was so intent on her task that she didn’t even realize a car had stopped until she heard a door shut. Before she could fully extricate herself from under the car to check out the new arrival, an amused voice spoke beside her.
“How is it that I always seem to find you repairing things?”
Maggie scooted back and turned to stare up at Jake.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.
“I think the more important question is, what are you doing here?”
“At the moment, changing a tire,” she replied dryly.
“I can see that. What I meant was, what are you doing on this road? It’s pretty isolated.”
She shrugged. “I come here to paint. There are some lovely coves out this way.” Suddenly she sneezed again, then reached into the pocket of her jeans for another tissue.
Jake frowned. He’d noticed right off that her voice was a bit husky, and a closer look revealed that her eyes were red. “Are you sick, Maggie?”
She wiped her nose and shook her head. “Of course not. I never get sick.”
He reached for her hand then, and before she could protest he drew her to her feet and placed a cool palm against her forehead. It was warm—too warm—and his frown deepened.
“You have a temperature.”
“No, I don’t. I’m fine.” She pulled away, disconcerted by his touch. If her face hadn’t been flushed before, it was now. She walked around him toward the trunk and started to reach for the jack, but his hand firmly restrained her.
“Yes, you do. And standing out here in the drizzle isn’t going to help matters. Go wait in my car while I change your tire.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.
He sighed in frustration. “Maggie, just accept the help, okay? I would have stopped no matter who it was.”
In all honesty, she really wasn’t feeling that great. In fact, she was fading fast. With a sigh, she capitulated. “All right. Thank you.”
Maggie couldn’t believe that she actually dozed in Jake’s car while he changed her tire, but he had to nudge her shoulder gently to wake her up when he finished. Her eyelids felt extraordinarily heavy as they flickered open.
“All done,” he declared as he slid in beside her.
The drizzle had escalated into a steady rain during her brief nap, producing a soft, rhythmic cadence on the roof. Her gaze flickered to Jake’s blue shirt, which had darkened in color with moisture and now clung damply to his broad chest, and stuck there as her pulse accelerated.
“How are you feeling?” he asked solicitously.
“Your shirt’s wet,” she murmured inanely, her gaze still on his chest.
He shrugged her concern aside. “It’ll dry. I’m more worried about you. Are you okay to drive?”
With a supreme effort, she transferred her gaze to his face. “Sure. I—I guess I picked up a bug or something. I felt fine this morning. This just came over me in the last hour or two. I’ll be okay by tomorrow.”
“I don’t know,” he replied doubtfully. “You look pretty under the weather.”
“As opposed to under the sink? Or under the car?” she teased.
That drew a brief smile in response, but then he grew more serious. “You don’t have to put on an act in front of me, you know. I can tell you’re feeling rotten. You always got a certain look when you were sick. Something in your eyes...” His gaze locked on hers, and for a moment her heart actually stopped beating. Here, in this cocoon of warmth, sheltered from the rain, she felt as if they were alone in the world. He was only a few inches away, close enough to touch, to lean on, to kiss...
Her breath caught in her throat as the impulse to do just that intensified. This was all wrong. She didn’t want to feel this way, not about Jake. How could she even consider letting herself get involved with him again? Yes, he seemed different. More responsible, more mature. But it was too soon to know. Far too soon. But even though her mind accepted that logic, her heart stubbornly refused to listen.
Jake watched Maggie’s face, his perceptive gaze missing nothing. She had always been easy to read. She wanted him to kiss her just as badly as he wanted to kiss her. But it was too soon. One of the things he’d learned in the navy was to control his impulses, think things through. An impulsive move in battle could cost you your life. And an impulsive move right now could cost him Maggie. Intuitively he knew that, and it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.
Reluctantly he released her gaze and turned to look at the road, which was now partially obscured by fog. He took a deep breath, willing his pulse to slow down, struggling to control his erratic respiration. He didn’t want to scare Maggie away by revealing the depth of his attraction.
“I think we’d better head back or we might be marooned here,” he said conversationally, striving for a light tone. “Not that I’d mind, you understand, but I think you need to change into some dry clothes and get some rest.”
Maggie drew a shaky breath and reached for the door handle.
“You’re right.” She started to push the door open, then turned back to him with a frown. “By the way, you never did tell me how you happened to be out here today. It’s not exactly a well-traveled route.”
He sighed and wearily shook his head. “Dad and I had an argument. Again. I decided to go for a drive until I cooled down, and this road caught my eye. Lucky for you, I guess.”
“I take it things haven’t improved much in the last week between you two?”
“I think that would be a fair assumption.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I wish there was something I could do.”
He shrugged. “We’ll just have to work it out between the two of us. But I appreciate your concern.”
“Well, tell Pop I said hi. And...thanks, Jake.”
“You’re welcome. Now go home and get some rest.”
“I’ll try, although I do have a business to run, Jake. But Eileen—you met her the night Al
lison was in the hospital, remember?—she comes by to fill in when we need someone, and she helps with the cleaning every day for a couple of hours. So I don’t have to do much when I get home. Since I don’t take guests on Sunday night, I’ll actually be a lady of leisure until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good. Take advantage of it. The best way to fight a virus is to rest.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she teased.
“Hey, I learned a lot in the navy. One of my best buddies was a medic.” He reached across to push her door open, and as his arm brushed against hers her heart lurched.
“I’ll follow you until we get to the main road.” Did his voice sound huskier than usual, or was it only her imagination? she wondered. “And Maggie...don’t worry about my problems. I’ll deal with the situation. I’m sure you have enough problems of your own to handle.”
He was right, of course, she thought, as she dashed through the rain to her own car. She did have her own problems. And a glance into the rearview mirror revealed her biggest one.
* * *
With a sinking feeling, Maggie played back the answering machine again. As she listened a second time, her spirits nose-dived. Eileen had the flu, too, and wasn’t going to be able to come over in the morning to help with the cleaning.
Maggie hit the erase button and wearily pushed her hair back from her face. This had most definitely not been a good day, she decided. A flat tire, a flu bug and four guest rooms plus the cottage to clean before two o’clock tomorrow. If the twins were here it would be manageable. But they had signed up months ago to volunteer for a week at a camp for disadvantaged children, and they wouldn’t be home until tomorrow afternoon. Which meant the housecleaning chores fell squarely on her shoulders.
She trudged into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, detouring for two aspirin on the way. She was generally able to overlook minor aches and pains and work right through normal fatigue, but this was different. She honestly felt that if she didn’t lay down, she might fall down. Maybe Jake was right. A little rest might help. Perhaps if she gave herself an hour or so she’d feel good enough to tackle a couple of the rooms tonight. Then she could finish up in the morning.