Maggie's Mountain

by Mya Barrett

  She felt her insides fall to liquid at his words. When she didn’t immediately respond, he strode to the door and opened it. The look on Jolene’s face had Maggie swallowing a hysterical giggle.

  “Hale?”

  “Jolene. Nice to see you. Maggie, I’ll be by tomorrow.”

  The heat in his eyes wasn’t hard to see. Her friend waited until she’d watched his car pull out onto the road before she turned, her jaw dropped and her eyes wide.

  “I saw his car outside and…I mean I knew he was here, but that look…Maggie Mae Brannon, are you sleeping with Hale Warrick?” The incredulous words held a tinge of awe.

  “Sleeping? No.” She turned and went back to start the dishwasher.

  Jo was hot on her heels. “Okay, maybe sleeping is the wrong word. I can’t imagine a man like him giving a woman much rest, not when he looks at her the way he looked at you.”

  “We haven’t had sex.” Maggie pushed the buttons with shaky fingers. “He was out here helping with the fence.”

  “Which I thought Brian and Eric were doing.” She leaned against the counter and narrowed her eyes. “Did you invite him over to have lunch with your friends? Why didn’t you invite me?”

  Maggie sighed and rested her back on the refrigerator door. “It wasn’t like that. Hale had mentioned coming over to string the wire, but I told him not to worry about it.”

  “Was that before or after my husband saw you two kissing?”

  She let out a strangled gasp and felt her cheeks go crimson. “The fire department saw that? Oh, dear heavens.”

  Jo’s face fell into sympathetic lines. “Don’t worry, Ben was the only one who saw. Who do you think let out those warning blasts?”

  “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was upset, watching and hoping my house wouldn’t burn down, the next Hale was…he was…”

  “Kissing you like a sex starved teenager?” Jolene stared at her for a moment. “Look, Mags, I get it. Hale is a potent sort of man. You’re a pretty, available woman. There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting. In fact, I’d go so far as to say there’s nothing wrong with a little more than that.”

  “Jo!”

  She held up a hand. “Just hear me out. I love you, Maggie, like you were my own sister. I’ve watched you, heck, we’ve all watched you struggle to build a life for yourself. One that was separate from all the gossip about your parents. You created a business, had a solid marriage, took care of your own. But I know that the talk still stings…and there is talk.”

  Of course there would be. There’d be no avoiding it. “What are they saying?”

  Jolene hesitated a moment before she spoke. “Hale’s car has been seen here, plus his rush to make sure you were okay during the fire. Some are saying, not all mind you, just some, that he’s set his sights on you as his latest conquest. Now he’s been here all day, stayed longer than your friends, and only left after I came by. Some will see that as confirmation.”

  Maggie nodded as she crossed her arms over her stomach. “It’s a small town. There’s bound to be gossip.”

  Jo studied her intently as she eased down onto a barstool. “Is that all it is? Gossip?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to lie to her best friend. “For right now, yes.”

  “But he wants it to be more.”

  “Yes.”

  “And so do you.”

  Maggie couldn’t reply. She didn’t need to. Jo slid off the chair and moved to stand in front of her, placing warm, comforting hands on her arms.

  “Chris would like him,” Jolene said softly. “He’d approve of Hale’s tenacious attitude.”

  Maggie didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the hot trails of tears on her cheeks. “I can’t want a Warrick. There’s so much, too much, between our families.”

  “Who cares?”

  The simple words made Maggie jump. “His mother for one. Her friends for another.”

  Jo lifted her eyebrows as her lips twitched up. “So you’re going to let a few talking heads with nothing better to do than discuss your love life ruin your chance with Hale?”

  “My chance? Jolene, you make it sound like we’ve already ordered the wedding invitations. It’s not like that.”

  “Fine, then it’s not. But you can’t tell me there’s no chemistry between you two. I could fuel the entire county for a year on the electricity still hanging in the air.”

  Maggie shook her head, desperate to deny what she knew was the truth. “Chemistry doesn’t mean anything.”

  Her friend shrugged. “Sure, it could mean nothing. Or it could mean everything. I don’t want you to hate me, Mags, but I don’t want you to lie to yourself, either. The man I saw leaving had determination written all over his hard body. And you have the look of a woman who wanted to give him everything he asked for.”

  “Jo—”

  “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. I’m just pointing out the facts as I see them. Personally I think you deserve to be happy, and if Hale gives that to you, well then, I’m pleased as punch.” She dropped her hands and moved to take a glass down from the cabinet. “What concerns me is the past. Your parents, his, and that whole mess.”

  Maggie’s heart constricted at the reminder. “Which is why I can’t be involved with him.”

  Jo made a dismissive noise as she filled the glass with water. “Doesn’t stop most of us from going for it, Mags. My father-in-law had his heart set on Ben marrying his partner’s niece. Would have made it all tidy and clean, kept the lawyers in the family so to speak. He wasn’t very happy when Ben took me to Sunday dinner.”

  “But you’re a wonderful woman, Jolene, and you make Ben very happy. Plus, his mother adores you. You and he don’t have the same sort of past that Hale and I do.”

  She gave the water to Maggie and tilted her head. “No, I suppose not, but it wasn’t all easy going, either. What I’m saying is if Hale makes you happy, then you shouldn’t let anything stand in the way. That means you have to talk about all that messy business between your families.”

  Maggie sipped at the water to wet her parched throat. She followed Jo when she walked into the living and sat down beside her on the couch, curling one leg underneath her body and angling herself so she could see her friend.

  “Maggie, you’ve never really talked to me about the whole scandal. I’m not asking you to tell me about it, either. I’ve heard the rumors, of course. You can’t live in Exum and not. Your momma, his father, a wild affair, money exchanging hands. It always struck me as odd how anyone could know Rebecca and think she’d sink to the level of begging to be a mistress, all for a handout. There she was, working her fingers to the bone, not once complaining, always so composed. Such a lady.” Jolene crossed her legs Indian style and leaned back against the couch’s armrest. “I could never rectify what I knew with what people were saying. I figured if she was having an affair with Royce Warrick there was love involved. Then I’d think of good old Royce and wonder how a woman like your mother could love him. He was such a bully, and she was too strong willed to have stood for that. Whenever I’d see them in town, I’d watch your mother cross the street just to avoid him, and watch him stare at Rebecca so hard you’d think he was carving holes into her. My conclusion was that there hadn’t ever been anything, just a bunch of conjecture brought on by Royce’s lust.”

  Maggie didn’t answer partly because she knew Jo didn’t want one, and partly because some of what she was saying was true. She took another drink then set her glass on the thick legged coffee table. Sometimes her friend took a while to get to the point, but when she did everything she’d said before came into full play.

  “You, Trent, and Hale got stuck in the middle.” Jo paused for a brief second. “I think your daddy even got caught in it. What I’m saying is all of the rumors and gossip that made up your past, they helped build who you are today. But I think it’s time you let it go.”

  Maggie’s mouth dropped open as disbelief swept through her. “Let it
go? I did that years ago.”

  “No, you didn’t. If you did you wouldn’t be so skittish about having feelings, however deep or shallow, for Hale Warrick.”

  And Jolene slammed home with one very keen observation. Maggie felt herself blanch at the accuracy. Her friend was right. She’d thought she’d given all of that over after her final confrontation with Royce, but some part of her had held on to the little bits and pieces. Not the anger; she’d always realized it was there. It wasn’t even the anxiety that she’d lose the foothold she’d worked so hard for. That was at least a rational fear.

  “That…that isn’t all there is,” Maggie confessed on a whisper. “There’s more than that.”

  “More I’m sure I don’t need to know. At least not until you’ve talked to Hale about it. And you should, you know.” Her friend leaned over and gave her knee a squeeze. “Whatever connection there is between you two, whether it’s physical or emotional or both, it’s going to haunt you until you’ve said it all to each other. Yell, scream, toss a lamp or two, but get it resolved. I’m not saying this for his sake; I’m saying it for you. You don’t deserve to walk around wounded, Maggie.”

  The tears came again and she wiped them away. “Point taken.”

  Jo patted her hand and stood. “Good. Now that the weepy bonding portion of our evening is concluded, why don’t I call Ben and tell him not to wait for dinner. I’m sure you still have some mint chocolate chip ice cream stashed away, and I know we could both use a dose of Errol Flynn. Nothing beats a classic when you're feeling like this.”

  She felt her lips lift into a wobbly smile. “Errol Flynn, huh?”

  Jo grinned wickedly as she rubbed her hands together. “I’m in the mood for a sexy pirate.”

  Chapter Nine

  He was skipping out on work and he knew it. Hale felt like a high school senior playing hooky as he gunned the motor of his car and aimed it toward Maggie’s mountain. The short list of work had taunted him this morning, rebuking him for not having it cleared. He’d gone through the mail, read and sorted the charity requests, discarded another offer from Brylon for the horse farm, chuckled at the financial report which showed his mother was as good an investor as any Wall Street tycoon. He’d even stayed long enough for that conference call with the Amelia Island Resort, even though he’d barely registered half of what was said and could only hope the manager would make the right decisions. He’d been honest in his effort to buckle down and get everything done. He’d already decided on his way home last night that he’d complete it all, then spend the rest of the day with Maggie. Hopefully in bed, with those wonderful limbs of hers wrapped around his body.

  Yes, he’d been determined to do the right thing. But try as he might, eleven o’clock had rolled around he hadn’t been able to concentrate on one blessed word. The small pile of paperwork was still there, waiting for his perusal, opinions and ultimate approval or veto. He figured he’d get to it sometime tomorrow. Sometime after he’d burned some of his desire for Maggie out of his system…if he could ever burn it out long enough to make it back to his house. There was a small, panicked part of him that wondered if it was possible to wear even an iota of his desire for her away. He knew it would never completely disappear, but right now he was having trouble even getting through the basics of life. If he couldn’t get a clear head for at least a couple of hours his family’s hard won interests would drain away.

  He had to push her, had to make her understand what he’d known for a while now. They needed each other whether she was willing to admit it or not. He had tried to put that fact squarely in her sight last night, but she’d been in too much denial, and they’d been interrupted before he could really make his point. He hadn’t been able to tell her that, if they were cautious, there wouldn’t be the sort of ramifications she obviously feared. Hell, there was talk already; chances were Maggie had heard about the gossip by now. The best way to fight the rumors was to squelch them with friendly acknowledgement. He could wave to her on the street, she could call out a greeting. They could have short, easy conversations about the weather, their respective businesses, local goings on, all in plain view of the whole town. And all the while they were dousing the gossip with the cold water of being vague acquaintances, they could be living out all the juicy lies the local hens were making up about them.

  He could give Maggie the protection of a quiet affair while keeping his mother’s feelings intact. There would be no talk of him bedding the daughter of his father’s mistress. No one would taunt Maggie about following in her mother’s footsteps. She wouldn’t have to worry about the wrath of Cordelia Warrick, and his mother wouldn’t have to suffer another scar to her heart. No one would have a reason to doubt Hale’s reliability or sanity. Neither of their businesses would suffer…and neither of their bodies would have to endure physical denial. It was, he decided, the perfect plan. And if their physical affair became something more, well, then it would all appear above board, as if they were friends well before they became lovers. That would be good for Maggie, and would make it harder for his mother to deny.

  His blood was humming a mile a minute when he pulled down her drive. The splashes of fall colors surrounding the small clearing felt brighter than they had before. Clarity of purpose, he supposed, then stepped out of his car. His head was filled with a strange static. Fear, he realized, and stopped short. He’d never been afraid of attraction before. Anxious, sure, but uncertain? He swallowed and shook his head. He was not afraid of Maggie Mae.

  He kept that mantra in his head as he strolled up to the door. Repeated it as he waited impatiently. Whispered it when he made his way around to the back of the house. Then he saw her on her knees, digging in the earth, her head covered with a ratty straw hat, her gloved hands coated with rich dirt. The words were replaced with the hard pounding of blood and libido.

  “Maggie.” Her name sounded as hard edged as he felt.

  Her head snapped up and he could see a smudge along her nose and right cheek. What should have been a detraction was acutely becoming on her. Lust must be melting his mind to mush.

  “Hale? What are you doing here?” The question quavered and he realized there were tears in her eyes. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

  Worry punched his gut with a hard left hook, sending his desire skittering to the corner. “Maggie, what’s wrong? What happened?”

  She waved her hand over the small garden; it was obvious she was too distraught to try to shrug his concern away. “The garden…it’s all…it’s dead. Or dying. It’ll all be dead by tomorrow.”

  He recalled how she’d said the land had fed her family, how she sold the produce, and understood why she was hurting. He didn’t think; he went to her, going down on his knees to the pungent earth. He looked at the withering vines, the shriveling vegetables, the brown leaves.

  “What happened?”

  She shrugged and let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I just…I have no idea. I haven’t done anything different this year.”

  He touched a dead vine and cocked his head. “No freezes that I’m aware of.”

  “Nothing that would damage these plants. I know what I can plant for the fall, Hale, and these were thriving yesterday. It makes no sense.” She bit her lip and wiped her palms down her worn jeans.

  He narrowed his eyes and studied her for a moment. “What is it you aren’t saying?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do.” He reached over and took her gloved hand in his. “What is it, Maggie? Tell me.”

  Indecision danced in her violet eyes as she hesitated. “I…it’s stupid.”

  “It can’t be that stupid if you’re worried about it.” He willed her to trust him, to share the trouble with him. He wanted to help her carry the burden, to hash it out, to come to conclusions and make decisions. If he hadn’t been so concerned about her his thoughts would have had him shaking in his boots.

  “It’s just…if I didn’t know any better I’d th
ink someone poisoned the garden.” Her voice sounded small, thick and wounded. “I told you it was crazy.”

  Hale took a deep breath and let her words sink in. To anyone else what she’d said might have sounded overdramatic, but not to him. “I never said that, Maggie. The fact is you’ve been growing this garden your whole life. I’ll bet you learned from your mother, who learned from hers and on back. You know this land, you know the plants, you know how they should look, feel, smell. If you have a hunch someone might have poisoned the garden then chances are something, maybe even some small thing you can’t quite put your finger on, is telling you that. It seems logical to me.”

  She let out a long breath and drooped back. “I wish that didn’t make so much sense because now I have to wonder who’d come out here and do this.”

  He was worried, too; something like this was blatantly personal and deliberate. “Did anyone else stop by yesterday, besides your friends?”

  She shook her head. “No one that I know of.”

  “That you know of?”

  “Jo and I ran into town to pick up pizza and a bottle of wine. We were gone for about an hour. After she left, I soaked in the tub for a while and went to bed. Anyone could have come out last night while I was gone or while I was asleep.”

  “Damn it, Maggie, this is exactly why you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

  Her face fell into a half-hearted scowl. “Stop it, Hale. I’ve lived out here just fine for years.”

  He raked a hand through his hair and tried to keep the worry from his voice. “And now you’re not. Someone killed your garden.”

  “Yes, they did, and I have a feeling it’s—” She looked away from him and began gathering her tools.

  Suspicion had him snaking his hand out to grab her wrist. “Wait, it’s what? What aren’t you saying?”

  She sighed, the sound of the resigned, and looked back at him. “It’s about you. Well, maybe not specifically you, but it did start when you got back into town.”