by Mya Barrett
“Be reasonable.” Her friend eased down to sit on the metal bed again. “This is the third, maybe even the fourth time someone’s vandalized your property.”
“I’ve lived through it before, I can do it again. When everything settles down they’ll stop. They’ll realize I’m not going anywhere and that my being in Exum isn’t going to change their lives or ruin their business.”
Hale’s hand came to rest on her shoulder as her words scrambled in his head. “You mean when I’ve been here a while, when my family’s money doesn’t dwindle, when the businesses don’t go bust because of some salacious scandal.”
She swallowed and nodded. Fury whipped through him, hot and long and sharp. His father had done a damn fine job of painting the Coopers as some sort of jinx, a presence that could cause irreparable damage if it wasn’t controlled in some way. No, fury didn’t even begin to cover the raging inferno he was feeling. But the real hell of it was he didn’t know who he was more enraged with: his father, himself, Maggie, the vandals…or the whole damn town. He was careful to tamp down the anger, aware that it would only serve to make everything just that much harder to deal with, both for him and for Maggie.
“I’m going home,” she insisted again.
“Mags, please—”
“Jolene, I’ve made up my mind.”
Sheriff Powell cleared his throat to gain their attention. “Maggie, I’m not sure if being up there on your own is such a good idea. Now I know you and your momma put up with a lot; I know you two stuck it out together. But the fact is there were two of you when all of that was going on. Now there’s just you, and that could be a dangerous situation.”
Her fists clenched in her lap and the blanket that had been around her shoulders began to droop. “I’m not going to run away. That place is all I have.”
Hale’s sharp exhale was filled with anxiety and surrender. “You damn stubborn—you won’t change your mind.”
Though it was a statement and not a question she replied. “No, I won’t.”
“Fine.” He leaned in so she could see the intention on his face. “I’m taking you.”
She gaped at him, her mouth falling open as the flush he was beginning to anticipate swept over her still pale cheeks. “You…you can’t…Jo said…”
“I can be just as stubborn as you, and twice as determined.”
Jolene quickly rolled her lips together in a vain attempt to hide her smile. “I don’t think you have a choice, Mags.”
Hale nodded in satisfaction at her friend’s comment. “Damn straight she doesn’t.”
Sheriff Powell tucked his small notebook away and stuck his pen in his top pocket. “Looks like that’s all figured out. I’ll just be heading on, but I expect to see you in the station tomorrow, Maggie.”
“Would you mind giving me a ride into town?” Jolene hopped up like a tight spring. “I have a full appointment book today, and it looks like Maggie is in…good hands.”
Maggie gave a quick shake of her head, her eyes going saucer wide. Jo smiled back and nodded. The silent communication was a strange female ritual he’d seen before, words exchanged for motions that spoke volumes. He knew the overlying reason was that Maggie didn’t want to be seen with him in town, but there was a world of subtexts there that he couldn’t quite decipher.
“Call me tonight. Hale, you’d better take good care of our girl or you’ll have me to answer to,” her friend said, then disappeared through the door with the Sheriff.
There was a long silence before her gaze finally shifted to his. The purple depths were tinged with uncertainty and fear, a combination that made him want to kiss her worries into oblivion. Not that she’d accept his comfort. He highly doubted his arms were the ones she wanted to be in. Jealousy ran like a slick snake along his spine and he hated himself for it.
“Hale, you can’t do this. It’s only going to make matters worse.” Her words were quiet as she pleaded with him.
He stared down at her and ran a hand through his hair. “Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, by seeing us together, whoever is doing this might realize that I don’t consider you an enemy? That you and I have buried the feud and moved on? That terrorizing you isn’t the sort of sick favor my family would ask for or appreciate?”
She shook her head. “What they’ll see is Rebecca Cooper’s daughter picking up where Rebecca left off.”
“Is this always going to stand between us, Maggie? Are you going to let my father haunt you from his grave? Because I sure as hell won’t let him spook me.” He gave her a moment to answer, knowing in his heart that it was more than their parents that created the gap between them. With an inward sigh he stood and aimed himself for the door. “I’ll go find the doctor. If he says you can be released, I’ll take you home. I hope you have a pull out couch.”
He swung into the hallway leaving her sitting on the bed sputtering in confusion.
Chapter Fourteen
Maggie stayed quiet as he drove her home. She thought she’d dealt with volatile moods before, but she’d never encountered anyone quite like Hale. Even from the passenger’s seat of his car she could feel the tightly controlled anger that hung in the air around him. She was the one who should be furious; she was the one whose privacy and emotions had been violated. There was no logical reason for his fury.
She cast a sideways glance in his direction and swallowed. His silence was making her as nervous as his obvious acrimony. If he would at least let loose with a few heated words it would relieve the tension. Instead he was a dormant volcano on the surface with lava roiling to life underneath.
He steered the vehicle carefully into her driveway, slowly breaking the car as if he were afraid any jarring would break her. She hurried to climb out of the car, hoping to make it inside before he insinuated himself into her home. He was quicker than she’d anticipated.
She only had a moment to wonder where he’d gotten her key—Jo had probably slipped it to him—before he was pushing the door open. When she hesitated he sent her a narrow eyed stare.
“I’m not going to bite,” he said, his voice tender but gravelly.
She braved his dubious composure by lifting an eyebrow. “Could have fooled me.”
He let go of a ragged breath and slammed a hand through his already messy hair. “Just get inside.”
Maggie took the stairs slowly, sidling past him through the doorway. She didn’t know what would happen if she accidentally touched him. An explosion of some sort, she was sure. Ironically, as much as she knew a good flare-up would ease the friction, she was loathe to be the catalyst. Sighing to herself, she stopped and stood between the kitchen and the living room, her back to the front door, listening as he twisted the locks tight. Bolted in with Hale Warrick. She couldn’t decide if it was a fantasy or nightmare.
“Go get a bath.” His command was as soft as it was short and to the point.
“I had a shower this morning.” Though she would’ve liked to have sounded stern, her voice came out reed thin.
“Maybe so, but you need a good long soak tonight.”
“I’m not in shock.”
“You’re exhausted and you smell like the hospital,” he explained with exaggerated calm.
She spun around to stare at him; though it didn’t sound as if he were spoiling for an argument, his statements had her hackles rising. “That’s too damn bad, Mr. Warrick. If you don’t like it, you should go home where you can’t smell it.”
He hissed in air and she waited for his cursing. Instead, he took a deep breath. “Maggie Mae, I’m short on temper right now. Can’t you just do one thing to ease my mind, or are you set on fighting with me?”
She could see his body vibrating, the muscles underneath his dark shirt taut, his hands opening and closing in white knuckled fists. The fact that he was asking her to do one small thing for him when he was so tangled up, and she was being petulant about it, was enough to make her feel small. The fact that her doing so would soothe some of the fear he
obviously carried for her was enough to melt her heart.
She felt the world begin to slip to an odd angle, a strange tilt she’d never experienced before. Maybe she was still feeling the effects from her earlier fright. Maybe it was being back at the scene that was making her head buzz and her pulse pound. And maybe she would sketch plans for interstellar flight on a napkin this evening.
It was the idea that he cared for her that had everything out of balance. That Hale Warrick was standing here, in her home, worried and concerned, and that he wanted to take care of her. This was more than a few hours spent stringing barbed wire to secure the woods. He fully intended to entrench himself in her home until he was absolutely sure she was safe. That fact cast a surreal sheen of longing over the scene and made her struggle with a strange, deep-seated yearning.
She watched his face as it made a slow transformation from pent up frustration to hopeful curiosity. She licked her parched lips and saw a flare of heat shoot through his dark eyes. If he reached for her now she would go to him. She would open herself to him completely, without hesitation, laying her heart bare for him to see.
“Maggie?” Her name was a rough question.
“I’ll go take a bath.”
She turned and hurried up the stairs, castigating herself as a coward the entire way. She knew they would have to have a final confrontation. She would have to be strong, to send him away, to deny there was anything more than physical attraction. He had claimed there was more, yet somehow she doubted it was abiding love. As much as she wanted to deny it, that small torch she’d carried since childhood for Hale Warrick had grown to a full blaze. But she wasn’t a fool, either. He didn’t want the same things she did.
He’d been ready to set her up as his mistress, much as his father had been adamant about making her mother his. Hale had counted on desire to override her common sense; he hadn’t realized it wasn’t just common sense he was fighting with, but her values. She didn’t want to be a convenient woman he could ease his lust with, a woman he felt obliged to hide. If they were to become involved, she would want to be his partner in every way possible. She would want to walk down the main street of Exum holding his hand as his much adored other half.
But Maggie understood she wasn’t the type of woman he would eventually settle down with. He would marry someone who didn’t have the sort of history that their families had. Someone with an impeccable background and grooming, someone who could slip easily into the role of socialite wife, not someone who had dirt under her nails, didn’t bother with make-up most days, and found schmoozing at parties as boring as watching grass grow and twice as pretentious.
The bottom line was it didn't matter what sort of woman Hale Warrick married. She had her business, her friends, her entire life, and he, no matter how hard he tried, wasn't going to be a part of it.
Determinedly she twisted on the taps of the claw footed tub. She’d been good at keeping her heart shielded for this long. She just had to continue doing so until he got tired of his game, which would be soon.
She hoped.
****
When she came back down she had the small hope that Hale would be gone. Instead he was standing in her kitchen, all six foot odd of him, cooking what smelled like steak. She stood for a moment and watched him, quietly appreciating his deft movements. Her mind made an instant snapshot, the cherished heir cooking in her humble kitchen, so she could recall it later. She doubted she would ever have the opportunity to see him like this again.
“Are you going to stand and stare all night?”
She jumped at his question. “I was…um…”
He gave her a quick look before turning back to the stove. “I would ask you if you feel better, but I’m not sure if you’ll admit I was right.”
She tucked her hands into the pockets of her well loved robe and shifted her weight. “My ego isn’t that fragile.”
“I was right.”
“You were right.”
He grunted, a guttural sound of approval, and lifted a beautifully seared steak to a plate. “You’re hungry, too, so don’t argue.”
She went cautiously to the bar, easing onto a stool as he slipped her dinner onto the surface. Steak, baked potato, glazed carrots, a glass of iced tea; her mouth began to water. He was right again, of course. She was hungry and hadn’t known it. She watched in her periphery as he put the small butter dish beside her along with a bottle of steak sauce.
“I had no idea you were so domestic,” she said without thinking.
He speared her with curious eyes before the corners of his mouth began to twitch. “I lived on my own for years, Maggie. Take out and restaurants lose their appeal after a few weeks.”
“I’m sure your girlfriends wouldn’t have minded cooking for you,” she blurted, then was quick to cram a forkful of carrots into her mouth.
He shrugged as if the statement hadn’t bothered him. “To be honest, I didn’t want any of them to cook for me.”
“You wanted to spoil them,” she surmised and studied the pat of butter she plopped on her potato.
“No, it’s just that none of them were special enough.”
All she could do was nod as he picked up his own plate and sat down beside her. She tried to keep herself occupied dressing her potato, cutting her steak, pouring sauce, anything to distract her from his presence. Not that it worked.
“It couldn’t be that strange having someone else make dinner. I’m sure your husband cooked for you.”
She paused at the inflection in his voice. It sounded…odd. “Chris liked to grill when he wasn’t busy. He wasn’t very good at it, but he tried.”
She watched Hale roll his shoulders and spear a piece of meat. As conversations went she supposed it was fairly innocuous. Yet somehow it felt fraught with tension she couldn’t name. It was more than what had happened this morning; there was a fine sheen of some unnamable strain hanging like gossamer cobwebs in the air. Well, unless she said something to convince Hale that she was fine she had a feeling he would stay and the tension would never ease. She took a long swallow of her tea to ease the knot in her throat.
“We could have eaten in the dining room,” she said, determined to sound strong.
He cut his gaze to her and stared for a long moment. “I’m sure other people might believe that, but I know you’re lying.”
“I am not!”
He ignored her outburst and shoveled steak into his mouth. A moment later he said, “You don’t have to worry about the mess. I cleaned it up while you were bathing.”
Tears threatened to gather in her eyes and she quickly batted them back. He’d thought of her. He’d done it without prodding, making sure to wait until she was well occupied before he cleaned the porch. She was sure now that had been the motive for his demand that she bathe. And here she sat, crying because he’d been kind. If she wasn’t careful he would notice and question her.
Before her heart could jump again, she turned to him, her back going as straight as a broomstick. “You and I both know this is all nonsense.”
“It is not nonsense!” His voice rang out like a brimstone and hellfire preacher on a revival tour as his fork clattered onto his plate. “Damn it, woman, what if you’d been awake? What if you had heard them and gone out to confront them? You could have been hurt!”
The possibility had been on her mind most of the day, but she couldn’t allow him to see just how upsetting that idea was. “No one has ever physically assaulted me.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He sprang from the stool and began to pace back and forth. “I hate that you’re going through this; I hate even more to think that it could be my fault.”
She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Hale, I’ve told you before, this isn’t your fault.”
He paused and fixed her with his intense eyes. “As you reluctantly pointed out not too long ago, it all started when I came back into town.”
“Maybe, but unless you’re the one who killed my plants, or
shattered my windows, or instigated the stringing up of a poor squirrel, it isn’t your fault.” She slid to the floor and watched as he began to move again. His agitation worried her and touched her at the same time. “I don’t blame you, Hale. I never have.”
“I blame myself.”
“Don’t.”
He stopped at her softly spoken word, lifting his head and leveling his gaze on her again. “It would be so easy to love you.”
His words literally set her back on her heels. Her head swam in giddy detail while a dozen small voices inside screamed denial. Her heart stopped, stumbled, sped into a rapid pace. She thought she should say something but couldn’t summon up anything more than, “Hale—”
“Your husband was a lucky man, Maggie. You have a way about you, as stubborn as you are. You make people want to be better, do better, when they’re around you. Half the time I don’t know if I want to turn you over my knee or kiss you until neither of us can see straight. Most of the time I’d like to do both. If you were any other woman I would have already talked you into an affair.” He gave a harsh, quick laugh. “But you aren’t just any woman, are you? You’re the type who loves deep and strong and fierce. The hell of it is, that’s one of your most appealing qualities, but it’s the very one that keeps us apart.”
Her voice was raw and bare as she laid a hand over her heart. “You—you can’t mean that.”
“You like to use that word ‘can’t’. The fact is I’m beginning to wonder if you’re saying it more to remind yourself than to warn me off.” He took a small step closer and she stumbled back. “Today, when Jolene came in and said you were in the hospital, it felt like the whole world was falling down around me. I didn’t think about our families’ feud, what Royce did to your mother and father, what my mother believes or how she feels, or what the town might say when they found out I was racing over to be with you. It took everything I had not to go tearing out of town like a maniac, ranting and screaming and begging God. So yes, Maggie, I can fall in love with you.”