Maggie's Mountain

by Mya Barrett

  Maggie Cooper—no, Brannon, he amended, was obviously doing well for herself. He knew the way she’d lived better than most. Quinn Cooper had left them in debt; her mother had been forced to work two jobs just to keep them afloat. Looked at from her side, he supposed he could understand why Rebecca would have pushed herself on a rich man. Still, her persistence when she’d been turned away had been pathetic and downright hurtful.

  Maggie wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t even her father. It couldn’t have been easy to be their daughter. Logically he understood that. But logic had nothing to do with emotions—his mother’s, the town’s, even Maggie’s—and it definitely had nothing to do with his physical reaction. He couldn’t want her. Not with their families’ past.

  She was pretty, he’d give her that much; pretty enough to stir his libido despite his better instincts. He’d toyed with women who were mouth wateringly sexy. He knew attraction when he felt it. He could accept it, absorb it, and ignore it. He’d learned how to control himself years ago, especially when the woman in question stood in sacred territory. He’d keep his distance from Maggie, go about his life, and ignore his mindless desire. When he happened to see her—and he knew he would in a town this size—he’d remind himself of the complications that meant he couldn’t have her. That would cool the waters well enough. There was no need for anger, or accusations, or out of hand lust. He had no desire to be his father. He could—no, he would keep himself under control

  He caught a glimpse of her as she rounded the aisle he was stepping into, and all his good intentions sizzled and evaporated like water in a hot skillet.

  “Damn it.” He tightened his jaw and reached down to adjust his jeans.

  Chapter Two

  Maggie felt like a fool. Big F with an exclamation point at the end. She’d known Hale was in the store, had tried not to look for him, had hoped he would check out before she happened across him, had sworn if she stumbled into him she would just smile politely and turn away. Still she’d been completely unprepared for the way she had reacted when she’d seen him.

  He’d changed. Not in a bad way, either. It seemed almost unfair that time appeared to adore him. His lean body had bulked slightly, carving the man out of the boy with a skillful hand. His face had been an artistic study of sharp angles and strong bones, and when mixed with his dark hair and eyes made him look like a rugged avenging angel. He was far too good looking for her peace of mind.

  Her brain had gone to complete mush, her palms had begun to sweat, her heart had practically jumped out of her chest and her nerves had jittered with awareness. He was what people called a man’s man, all hard body, searching eyes, and crooked smile. It was easy to see that he still didn’t have a problem bending women to his will. Even she, a woman who had only ever been with her husband, wasn’t immune. Her body had instinctively recognized Hale as a man built to please and had reacted accordingly. God only knew what would have happened if Mr. Adkins hadn’t stepped out and gotten her attention.

  Heat crept up her neck to stain her cheeks as images of that first meeting crept into her mind. He must think she was a blubbering idiot, someone with as much sense as a gnat. Worse, she’d probably confirmed every statement about her ignorance that his father had ever made.

  She looked up and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “And why exactly do you care, Maggie Mae? He’s a Warrick, you’re a Cooper. Might as well be the Hatfields and McCoys.”

  Sighing in disgust, she switched the bathroom light off and made her way to the large wrought iron bed. Sitting down, she let her head fall forward as she contemplated her dilemma. No, there wasn’t a dilemma. There wasn’t even a small issue. Hale Warrick was back in town for good, and so what. She had a life, a very good life, thank you very much, and he was entangled with his own family and his family’s business. Their paths didn’t ever need to cross, unless by circumstance. They had spent years doing just that when they’d been kids and it had worked fine. Not that she’d go out of her way to hide anymore. She wasn’t the same scared girl she had been back then. She’d lost her fear of the all powerful Warrick name years ago when she had made the deliberate choice to step past Royce’s threats and build a small empire of her own. One not nearly so large, or so influential, or so well known as Warrick Holdings. But it was her little piece of the world and nothing Royce could do or say had been able to take it away from her.

  “I can ignore him. I will ignore him.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded faint.

  She kicked off her blue slippers and with determined movements slid underneath the warm wedding ring quilt, curling onto her side as she stared at the empty space of the bed. There had been times over the past few years when she’d desperately missed Chris. Tonight was one of them.

  Being able to share fears and joys, secret jokes, quiet moments, heavy burdens, had been a small slice of heaven for her. When she’d lost that life partner she had never thought about searching for another. She had loved her husband and had done her best to be a good wife to him. But she had known, deep down in her heart, that what she’d felt for Chris wasn’t the same passionate devotion and adoration that she’d seen other couples show—no matter how much she had wanted it to be. If Chris had known he had never mentioned it. She liked to think that he had been happy, content in his choice for a wife, and that he had felt loved until the very end.

  The guilt of knowing she hadn’t ever given her husband her whole heart kept her from trying to find love again. She was afraid that she simply didn’t have it in her to give. Not after what she’d seen her mother go through. Not after she’d found out the truth about why the Coopers had been branded the town pariahs for so many years. If only Hale knew….

  But going down that road would leave her empty and drained and she had a business to run. Resolutely, she shut her eyes and tried to think about anything else but Hale Warrick and the secrets between their families. It was a long time before she was able to drift into a fitful sleep.

  ****

  Hale sat on the veranda, nursing a glass of whiskey as he stared out into the cool evening. He’d missed this, hadn’t realized it until he’d driven over the rise and seen the brick Colonial standing like a stoic sentry in the large clearing. Home, with the winding roads, fresh mountain air, and crisp breezes. The trees were holding their vibrant colors, like they always did in the fall, the leaves a wild blend of reds, yellows, golds, and browns. Tourists would come to snap pictures, stopping along their way over to Gatlinburg and the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. Exum’s economy would get a small boost, nowhere near what Pigeon Forge would rake in, but some.

  He wondered if Maggie’s husband had ever taken her to the tourist trap town.

  Hale grimaced and took another sip of whiskey. Where the hell had that thought come from? A tired mind and the relaxing effects of alcohol, he decided, and sent the rocking chair he was sitting in moving. He wouldn’t think about her. He wouldn’t think about her hair, which couldn’t seem to decide what color it should be. He wasn’t going to think about her lovely, classical features. He most definitely wasn’t going to think about her tempting body. And, under no circumstance, was he going to even consider her heart-stopping eyes.

  Nope, he wasn’t going to because the sad fact was he was already thinking about all of that, and had been since he’d seen her in the store. Frustration rose and fell in his chest and he shrugged it away philosophically. He repeated the same mantra he’d been fixated on for hours now. He was attracted to her, there was no denying that. It was what he did about it that mattered.

  “Hale.”

  He looked up and nodded when he saw his brother standing there. “Trent. Thought you’d gone to bed.”

  The other man sighed and sank down on the porch steps, stretching his long legs out in front him. “I couldn’t sleep when freedom was so close.”

  Hale chuckled as he watched his little brother lean back and stare up at the stars. Strange how two people who’d come from the same gene
pool could have such different feelings about family obligations. Trent would do his duty, as he always had, but he was much more the schmoozer and diplomat than Hale. For Trent, being cooped up in an office and sitting behind a desk for more than an hour was nerve wracking. For Hale, it was being trapped at a business party that made him edgy. The one thing that they both agreed on was the desire to be outdoors, to enjoy the physical activity that came with manual labor and hard work.

  “You going over to check out the stables this week?” Trent aimed his question at the sky.

  “Yes, I thought I would. Mother says Dulan is doing a miraculous job with one of the fillies.”

  “Hestia is an amazing horse. We could definitely win some ribbons from her. In a year or two we might want to consider selling her breeding services.”

  Hale cocked an eyebrow and stared at the back of Trent’s dark hair. “I didn’t know we were expanding the stables.”

  “Just a thought I’d had. It could be lucrative, or it could be a complete failure. Either way, it could be worth a try. We do fairly well with purchasing, training, and selling, so breeding seemed the natural next step.”

  “It’s a good idea, Trent. It makes sense. Is this something you’d like to handle?”

  His brother nodded. “I would, yeah. We’d need another pasture at least, and the stables would have to be renovated. Probably ought to think about refurbishing the farmhouse, too, so clients can stay overnight if they wanted. A breeding stable would have to be built, of course. Only problem is I’d like to add more space.”

  Hale shrugged negligently. “Most people around here are willing to part with a few acres.”

  “The best land bordering ours is Maggie Brannon’s, and she’s not selling, not to any of the companies that have offered, and definitely not to us.”

  He let out a deep breath at the mention of the woman he was trying to forget. “Why wouldn’t she? I’m sure it’s a high appraisal. I’d think she’d want the money.”

  Trent turned to him, his hazel eyes barely visible in the dark. “Maggie isn’t a teenager anymore, Hale. She’s a grown woman.”

  “And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked in a tight tone.

  “It means that Exum, and the people who live here, didn’t just freeze when you left for South Carolina. Life moved on, people moved on.”

  “You mean her marriage.”

  Trent waited a beat before he continued. “Christopher Brannon was a good man. He walked into a hornetʼs nest when it came to Maggie, but he took the stings anyway.”

  Hale’s empty hand involuntarily fisted on the arm of the rocking chair. He heard his father’s voice raised in anger and deliberately calmed himself. “Why should I care?”

  “Because she was caught in a hornet’s nest she had no hand in making. I know how Quinn Cooper spread rumors about our father’s work ethic; I know that Rebecca harassed dad. But whatever else you believe, you have to know that Maggie was the innocent one in her household, and she’s been the one who’s had to suffer the most.”

  “What are you talking about? I never said she was as bad as her parents, at least not that I’m aware of. And as far as suffering…she’s still living in Exum when she could’ve moved.”

  Trent grimaced and sighed. “Look, all I’m saying is you should give the woman a break. She put the man she loved and her mother into the ground a little over two years ago. There’s no one left for her. That can’t be easy.”

  He ignored the squeezing of his chest as he listened to Trent. Maggie Mae Cooper, or Brannon, or whatever the hell she called herself, was wiggling under his skin with too much ease after just one long look. The feeling was uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to being the one all tangled up, but damned if that wasn’t just what she’d done to him. And he hadn’t even exchanged a word with the woman yet.

  “You thinking about going after her, Trent? You seem awfully protective.”

  His brother studied him for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re too damn cynical when it comes to people. You always have been. Maggie was in my class at school. I watched her work her ass off trying to keep her grades up and hold down a seven day a week job, just so they’d have enough money to live. She managed to graduate valedictorian, and do you know what most of the town did? They boycotted the ceremony. As for leaving town, yeah, she could have gone off to college, told Exum to kiss her butt and never look back, but she didn’t because she knew her mother couldn’t survive without her here. Maggie worked two jobs, went to a local college and got her degree. I think that’s damned impressive and I won’t say anything against that woman. Mother can rant and rave all she wants; the Coopers and our father made mother’s life miserable, I’m aware of that. But the fact is Maggie hasn’t done anything to hurt our family, ever. She’s done more than enough to prove herself, Hale. If she doesn’t want to sell her family’s land, I am not going to force her.”

  Damn it, he didn’t want to know all of that. He didn’t want to have the picture of the scrawny little kid in the worn out hand-me-downs he remembered struggling to survive. Suddenly it chafed that, when he’d been a teenager, he hadn’t thought about Maggie as a separate person, but only as the Cooper girl. In fact, he’d rarely thought of her at all. Obviously Trent had not only been aware of her, but he’d managed to see past her parents, and for some reason that irritated him even more. Of course, his brother hadn’t been privy to all the issues the Coopers had created. He hadn’t seen their mother weeping, or heard their father cursing, or dealt with their parents’ bloodless arguments. That had been Hale’s job. It still was.

  Without any rebuttal, Hale tossed back the rest of his whiskey and stood. “I’m going up to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “No, you won’t.” Trent smiled like a kid with a dirty secret. “I’m leaving early and driving into Knoxville for a breakfast meeting with our real estate firm.”

  “Better you than me. Call me when you get back into town so we can discuss what they had to say.”

  With a roll of his shoulders, Hale opened the door and headed up to his bedroom, determinedly shoving aside the wayward thoughts of one gorgeous brunette.

  Chapter Three

  Hale wandered through the woods, absorbing the quiet sounds of birds, the rushing brook, the dancing leaves. He’d had one hell of a week, and he needed a break. Ostensibly he’d come to the stables to check out what would be needed for expansion; what he’d really come for, though, was some alone time. He had snuck off, like he’d done numerous times when he was a kid, meandering through the woods and kicking at the thick underlay of dead leaves. It went a long way to easing his nerves.

  He’d spent too many days going over paperwork, making phone calls, soothing worries, and signing deals. And through it all, he’d barely had a decent night’s sleep, though he’d stayed so exhausted his eyes often closed before his head hit the pillow. His subconscious hadn’t allowed him more than a few minutes of peace at a time; his dreams were constantly interrupted by the memory of violet eyes and a sweet, reluctant smile. His body had stirred and ached, a damn annoying reaction considering the lectures he’d been giving himself. He’d put it down to being without a woman for nearly six months. He couldn’t allow himself to imagine anything else.

  Letting out a long, deep breath, Hale tucked his hands into his jeans pockets and rambled on. He tried to blank his mind of the image of Maggie Mae Cooper; he tried not to remember his mother’s cool questions about his plans for the business; he tried not to think about his brother who was, at this moment, happily conducting business over luncheon cocktails. Hale had never been jealous of Trent’s schmoozing…until now.

  Rolling his shoulders, Hale determinedly tuned himself into the gentle world around him. It was simple here, surrounded by towering trees, the outside world cut off by the tender hand of nature. The smell of deep earth, the cool fingers of the breeze, the tumble of crystal clear water over smooth stones, the muted sound of sobbing.

&n
bsp; He came to an abrupt stop and shook his head. Sobbing? He had to be wrong. He tilted his head, listened, and the sound came again. No, he hadn’t been mistaken. Someone was in his woods, and they were crying. Not just crying, he thought, but weeping with deep pain. It was obvious that whoever it was had wanted privacy.

  Quietly, he began to turn around, intending to leave the person alone. Then he caught a glimpse of rich brown hair cascading over a red jacket and he stopped cold. Even without seeing her face he knew who it was perched on the large rock. Maggie Mae Cooper.

  "Of all the—" Frustration and curiosity overrode good sense and he strode toward her. “What are you doing on my land?” The question came out completely wrong and was harsher than he’d intended, causing him to inwardly flinch as she looked up, startled, her brilliant eyes rimmed red. Her face was flushed from crying, but the skin around the crimson color had quickly leeched white. She appeared to be as dumbfounded to see him as he had been to find her.

  “Your land?” The words were a husky question. “I don’t think so.”

  He might have made a mistake by blundering into a confrontation, but he was a Warrick, and Warricks didn't back down. “I’m pretty sure I know Warrick land, Maggie Mae, and you're sitting on it.”

  She blinked, brushed her hair behind her ear, sighed. “You missed the property marker?”

  It was his turn to be confused. “Marker?”

  “Granite, about waist high, a foot wide, with Eli R. carved into it?”

  “Eli R.?” Now he sounded like an irritating echo.

  “My several-times-great grandfather. There are several of them marking the border between my land and your stables.” With a final sniff, she eased herself up and wiped her hands down her wash-worn jeans. “They’re easy to miss.”