Maggie's Mountain

by Mya Barrett

  He felt his hands tighten into fists at the sudden twist of anger in his gut. No, not just anger. He’d be honest enough to admit it was jealousy. Someone out of Maggie’s past had shown up to help and she’d obviously taken him up on his offer. She’d rebuffed Hale but she’d allowed another man to take care of her.

  He took a moment to take long, slow breaths. He refused to erupt, no matter how much he was boiling inside. He had to be reasonable; after all, she’d told him she would hire someone. So what if it was a friend? Maybe he needed the money and Maggie was being kind enough to give him the work.

  “Hale?”

  Her voice cut through him like a hot blade. He turned to find her standing in the open doorway, her flowing flowered skirt and aqua shirt covered with a frilly pink checked apron. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide, her rosy mouth slightly slack. She looked ridiculously feminine and good enough to scoop up and take straight to bed.

  “Hello, Maggie.” He tried for a smile and wasn’t sure if it made it. “I thought I’d come out and see if you need help.”

  “I…” She slid her gaze toward the truck before coming back to meet his eyes. “Brian and Eric are dealing with the fencing.”

  “Brian and Eric?” Hale lifted an eyebrow and forced his lips to stay tilted up.

  “Brian…Brian is Chris’s friend; they worked together. Eric is Brian’s son.” She shifted her weight and looked strangely uncomfortable. “I told you that you didn’t have to come out.”

  “And I told you that I would.” He casually climbed the stairs, deliberately stepping into her personal space. “You need some help, Maggie Mae? Maybe something I can do for you inside?”

  He knew she could see the heat in his eyes, the mix of desire and frustration, because she took a quick step back. Without waiting for an invitation he strode into the house. The scents tickled his nose first. Sweet and buttery, mixed with a rich undertone that spoke of homemade food. He strolled to the kitchen and looked over the counter. Dessert sat on top of the stove, its golden top emitting delicious curls of steam.

  “Making pies?”

  “Um, just the apple.” She maneuvered around him, putting the counter between them.

  He dipped his finger into the buttermilk mixture she had poured into a large silver bowl. “Biscuits?”

  “Chicken,” she said, and wet her lips. He nearly groaned at the small gesture. “It needs to soak for a while.”

  He reached over and gently grasped one of her fidgeting hands. “That’s an awful lot of food for one person.”

  “Brian and Eric are staying for lunch. It’s their payment.”

  She was feeding the man and his son. The cozy picture didn’t do a damn thing to ease the band around his chest. “That’s awfully nice of you, Maggie.” He stepped around the counter and brushed her body with his, reminding her of the attraction she’d obviously rather forget. “Tell me, if I go out and sacrifice my blood and sweat to the fence gods, would you make me lunch, too?”

  She swallowed and gazed at him with wide, suspicious eyes. “You’re a busy man, Hale. I wouldn’t ask you to waste your time—”

  “Waste my time? I don’t think making sure you’re safe is a waste of time, sweetheart. In fact, I’d say it’d be a pleasure taking care of you.”

  Maggie gasped at the innuendo and tried to pull her hand back. “Hale, I don’t think—”

  “No, sometimes you don’t.” He clamped down on a surge of vexation and locked her eyes with his. “I’m trying very hard, Maggie.”

  “Trying…what exactly does that mean?”

  “Did it ever occur to you that I wanted to be the one to see to your safety?”

  Her eyes narrowed and her lips compressed. Lord she was lovely when she was annoyed. “I’m not a pet. I don’t need an owner, nor do I particularly want one. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman.”

  He reached out and lifted her hand to his mouth, then placed a gentle, tempting kiss on the back of her knuckles. “Oh, I noticed.”

  “Damn it, Hale.”

  He couldn’t stop the small grin. “Damn it, Maggie.”

  The sound of a clearing throat interrupted the heated moment. Hale turned, ready to slug whoever had decided to step in and stop them. When he saw a confused looking teenager standing in the doorway he paused, bewildered.

  Maggie sent the gangly boy a shaking smile. “Eric, hi.”

  “You okay?” His brown eyes raked over Hale as a flush swept into his lean face.

  “I’m fine. Eric, this is Hale Warrick; he owns land just on the other side of the woods.” She moved back a small step to separate herself from him. It didn’t work as well as she’d hoped, he thought, since he wouldn’t let go of her hand. “Hale, this is Eric Easton; he and his father are the ones helping me with the fence.”

  Hale nodded and deliberately slid closer to Maggie. “I was just telling Maggie I was coming down to help you out with that.”

  Obviously undecided about the honesty of that statement, Eric ran a bony hand through his messy brown-blond hair. “I just came up to refill the water jug.”

  “Great. I’ll go back with you.” Hale gave Maggie’s hand a small squeeze, silently promising to continue where they’d left off.

  She wet her lips and he had to bite back the urge to kiss her. “Hale, I know you have a lot to do—”

  “Not today.” He gave her a languid stare that pinned her in place as Eric eased into the kitchen behind them and quietly began filling the tall blue jug. Hale couldn’t help but wonder what the kid was thinking. What he might report to his father later. He hoped it was the news that Maggie had a man, one who wasn’t as obliging as other men might be. As he stood and studied the woman in front of him something stirred inside of him, something unfathomable and complicated, warm and inviting. This need he had for her shouldn’t feel so right. In his gut he knew the attraction had to be all wrong. He had his mother’s feelings to think of; as much as they might disagree, he still loved her. He had his family reputation to protect; even if he couldn’t care less what others thought, the business could very well suffer. He had the past to consider; her mother had pursued his father for money and prestige and that fact left a gaping cavern between the families. He knew all the arguments against becoming involved on any level with Maggie Mae. But he didn’t seem to give a damn.

  Eric cleared his throat again, plainly at a loss as to what to say. Hale let Maggie’s hand go by reluctant inches, rubbing his fingers together and absorbing the warmth that was left behind. She looked away and grabbed the bowl of chicken.

  “Here, let me carry that for you.” Hale took the water from the surprisingly strong grip of the teenager and turned to leave. “Don’t forget to add a couple extra pieces of chicken, sweetheart. I love the fried kind.”

  Her head darted up and she sent him a hard glare. Chuckling, he turned and strode out of the cabin, Eric hot on his heels. He waited until he was outside to laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” The brown-haired teen stared at him with unveiled interest.

  “Women, kid. If you don’t laugh, you might as well bang your head into the nearest wall.”

  Eric shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. “Wish my dad thought that way. I’d rather hear him laugh than bitch and moan about my mom.”

  Hale lifted an eyebrow at that telling statement but kept his questions to himself. He watched as Eric moved toward the woods, loping like a colt with his long legs. This was going to be an interesting afternoon. Not as interesting as it would be if he was alone with Maggie, but he just might have a chance to learn a little bit more about the woman who grew vegetables and refused to sell her land.

  ****

  Maggie wasn’t sure how she ended up in this situation. One minute she was making lunch for friends, and the next Hale Warrick had invaded. No, not just invaded. He’d completely taken over her personal landscape. Her mind had been on him all morning, thinking of him just down the hill working with Brian and Er
ic. Thinking of how he’d said he wanted to be the one to take care of her. It was shockingly chauvinistic. For hours she tried to convince herself she didn’t melt a little at the idea of it.

  Now he had insinuated himself into her private luncheon. It reminded her too much of how life could be with a man. Having friends over, joking and laughing, gossiping and conjecturing. Wouldn’t you know Brian would like Hale? They were opposites in so many ways, and not just in backgrounds and attitudes; Hale was as much a borderline outlaw as Brian was relaxed justice. Yet the two of them were acting like old buddies. Hale was careful to include Eric in their conversation with that unspoken male understanding that the teenager needed to feel a part of the manly bonding. As she watched them the unwelcome warmth of it seeped into her, touching parts of her that she’d tried to ignore. It wasn’t easy, realizing Hale was finding these places so effortlessly when Chris hadn’t. Guilt was an ugly thing at best, a demanding beast at worst, but right now its roaring wasn’t as loud as the hot rush of blood that cascaded through her veins. A rush Hale created just by being in the same room.

  “I’ll be sure to send you those raffle tickets,” Brian said and shook Hale’s hand. “Let me know if you need more.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He held the door open as he smiled, looking as if he belonged there. “Got to get Eric’s softball team to Arizona.”

  The teenager smiled, looking slightly awestruck as he watched Hale. “If we win the finals.”

  “Of course you will.” He cuffed the boy’s shoulder and grinned at Brian. “Have a safe trip.”

  She waved from behind the counter as her friends told her goodbye. She should have been standing at the door; manners dictated that she see her visitors off. But she knew she couldn’t put herself into such close proximity with Hale and come out unscathed.

  “Well, that was a nice afternoon.”

  She swallowed and stuck her hands deeper into the sudsy dishwater. “You all seemed to get along.”

  “Um.” He slipped around the counter and began stowing the leftovers in the refrigerator. “I love cold chicken.”

  The plate in her hand dropped from her fingers and thudded back into the metal basin. “Then take some home with you.”

  He peered at her over the white door. “In other words I’m not welcome to stay long enough to have leftovers.”

  She sighed and turned back to slide the plate into the dishwasher. “You have to stop doing this.”

  “Doing what?”

  “This!” She waved her wet hands in the air, motioning toward the door. “You come and go like it’s your right. Like we’re old friends when we’re not.”

  He slowly closed the refrigerator and leaned his shoulder against it, studying her with an intensity that made her fight not to squirm. “That bothers you so much, Maggie? Having me as a…friend?”

  “We aren’t friends!” She took a deep breath, determined to hold back the frustration that had her tied in knots. “You are a neighbor at most.”

  His tone was deceptively conversational when he answered. “No, Maggie, I’m not just a neighbor and you know it. That’s what scares you. Hell, it scares me, too.”

  She shook her head, denying the truth in the vain hope that he would leave the subject alone. “There’s nothing else, Hale. Nothing.”

  “Yes, there is.” He pushed himself up and eased a step toward her. “We both know it, Maggie Mae.”

  “It…it doesn’t matter.” Panic was a fast, heady thing that stole her breath. “Just because we’re physically attracted doesn’t mean we can or should act on it.”

  “You’re lying again, sweetheart.” He lifted his hand and ran a calloused finger along the side of her neck, sending a volley of shivers along her skin. “There’s more than physical attraction. I’ve thought about it. I’ve wondered if I slept with you, gave us both the night we need, if I’d get you out of my system. I wish it was that simple.”

  She took a determined step back. “I don’t sleep with strangers.”

  His voice dipped, pitched deep and hypnotic. “We aren’t strangers. We have a connection that we’ll never be able to shake, for good or bad.”

  Her mind shuffled through his words, trying to make sense of what he meant. Then the truth hit her. “Our parents. You’re right, they’ll always be here, right between us. Fate’s way of reminding us we can’t get involved.”

  “We’re already involved.” She wasn’t prepared when he clasped her arms and pulled her against his chest. “It doesn’t have to be complicated, Maggie.”

  Too caught up in the feel of his body against hers, she was having trouble thinking. When the words finally seeped through their meaning was hard to deny. She reached up and pushed against him in blind fury, freeing herself.

  “What doesn’t have to be complicated, Hale?”

  He reached out to touch her again and she flinched away. “Look, I wasn’t expecting this anymore than you were. It’s a hell of a thing to want the daughter of my father’s mistress.”

  She checked her fury, trying to remind herself he didn’t know the truth. It didn’t completely stop the wave of anger, though. “So I’m not good enough, is that it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “That’s right, I’m good enough for an uncomplicated roll in bed, just as long as you don’t get caught. So you want to, what, sneak over here in the middle of the night, hide your car behind the house, then slink back out before the sun comes up? Because that’s not complicated at all, right?”

  Hale’s face shifted from easy to banked anger in a matter of seconds. “You make it sound like high school.”

  “And that’s exactly what it is!” She crossed her arms over her chest and prayed he didn’t see her body shaking. “It’s cheap and tawdry.”

  “Damn it, Maggie, what do you want me to do? Make the whole town question my sanity by carrying on with you and announcing it on the street corner? Do you want me to flaunt an affair with you under my mother’s nose? Bring on more problems for her and for you? I love my mother, but she can be a royal bitch when she needs to be, and trust me, if she feels threatened by you she’ll turn into one, which isn’t good for either one of you.”

  She slammed the dishwasher door shut and pointed to the front door. “Get out."

  "Maggie—"

  “This is my home, Hale, and I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say.”

  “You sure as hell do!”

  “I sure as hell don’t!”

  She spun on her heel, intent on getting away, but he grabbed her upper arm, neatly swinging her back into place. “We can’t run away from this, no matter how much we might want to.”

  “There is no this, Hale. There isn’t anything.”

  “We’re back to that? You have a short memory, Maggie Mae. Let me refresh it for you.”

  Before she could breathe a protest his mouth was on hers. This wasn’t like before; there was no softness or coaxing. It was an attack, filled with frustrated need and unspoken emotions. There was no control now, only sheer desire to dominate. His tongue didn’t ask for entrance, it speared its way inside the dark recesses of her mouth. His arms wrapped around her, one hand cradling her head, the other anchored on her hip, holding her so there would be no way to escape. He pushed into her, relentless, and she felt the burgeoning ridge pressing against his jeans. She responded automatically, any thoughts of denial withering and blowing away.

  He squeezed her hips with strong fingers and she felt a tremor rack his body. She understood. He was creating the same wild needs in her and she knew there was no fleeing what would happen next. Her body’s cravings were so much stronger than her logic and good sense. It was something she’d never experienced before, something she wanted desperately to hold onto. For better or worse it was Hale who made her feel this way. No one else had ever come close. There was no stopping the onslaught, no turning away from what they both wanted.

  A knock sounded in the back of her mind. Hale tightene
d the fist in her hair and his kiss deepened. She was sliding down completely when the sound echoed again, this time louder and with more persistence. Maggie groaned in confusion then frustration when he pulled away.

  “Tell them to go away,” he urged in a rough voice.

  She blinked her eyes open and tried to focus on his taut, flushed face. “What?”

  The knock came again and the muscles along his jaw ticked. “You have a visitor.”

  “Oh.” Then what he’d said registered and she took a quick step back. “Oh.”

  She heard him curse, saw his hands involuntarily lift to touch her again. Then he was ramming his fingers through his hair and taking long, deep breaths. Maggie empathized; she was trying to calm her rioting system, as well, and was having a difficult time of it.

  “Maggie? Maggie, are you okay?” Jo’s concerned voice carried into the cabin.

  “Popular woman,” Hale gritted out. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to ask you to tell Jolene you’re fine and send her home?”

  She swallowed, battling down the urge to do just that. But her friend’s appearance was a reprieve, a chance for her to stop before she did something she knew she shouldn’t do. Going to bed with Hale Warrick would, she thought wildly, be an end all, be all for her. No other man would do after she’d had the county Casanova. When it came to sex she was woefully inexperienced. Chris had never complained, but there had always been that sneaking suspicion that because she’d held back she’d kept them both from being as fulfilled as they should have been. If his kisses were any indication, Hale would never allow that. He would never let her tuck any part of herself away, whether she knew she was doing it or not. Her world would never be the same after that.

  “Maggie? Don’t make me break down this door!”

  The picture of her petite friend slamming her slender shoulder into the hard wood brought a wry grimace. Hale saw it and gave an answering eye roll. Maggie felt a little of her control slip over the shared moment.

  “Let her in, Maggie. As much as I wish we didn’t have to, looks like we’ll have to wait. Not long, ’cause God knows I can’t keep going on like this.” He slanted his head toward the door. “Go on, let her in.”