Rosemary hadn’t wanted to come out tonight for this very reason, but Eli had insisted on life as usual. Soon enough, his condition would be the talk on everybody’s lips. Such was the way of life in Taylor’s Grove, where your business was your neighbor’s business. There was comfort in that, she supposed. For the most part, people discussed others with an attitude of love and concern. Yet, if malice could be interjected, it was usually Sue who saw that it happened.
The park at the center of town was hopping—typical of summer nights in the village, but especially Friday nights when everybody came to greet their neighbors and start the weekend. Eli and his group of closest friends had gathered in the shade of the giant elm tree out by the curb. Unsure of how to answer Sue, Rosemary glanced in Eli’s direction just in time to see Tank Wallis pull her husband into a hug.
So the word was out.
Rosemary shook her head. “We found out this morning that Eli has three blockages in his heart. He’s scheduled for bypass surgery Monday in Paducah.”
“Oh, dear Lord!” Sue’s embrace loosened the angst Rosemary had been holding in. Between her emotional state and the men hugging on the other side of the park, it didn’t take long for everyone else to begin gravitating toward one of the two groups, asking questions. The news spread like wildfire through dry brush, and within minutes Sawyer O’Malley, pastor of Taylor’s Grove’s only church, had convened a spur-of-the-moment prayer service on Eli’s behalf right there at the park.
Rosemary no longer held back her tears. She let them flow freely in welcomed release, mingling with those of friends who genuinely cared for her and her family. Afterward, she graciously accepted the hugs and pats and general outpouring of love with a heart full of thanks.
“It’s miraculous what surgeons can accomplish these days, Rosemary.” Bree Barlow sidled as close as her swollen, eight-months-pregnant belly would allow. “Just look at my mom. She’s a walking miracle.”
Bree’s mom, Stella, who’d suffered a traumatic brain injury a year ago, had recently married and moved to Paducah. “Yes, she is,” Rosemary agreed. “I sure do miss her, though.” Her own Maggie’s absence stung fiercely right at that moment, and she gave Bree’s hand a motherly pat. “But I love that you and Kale moved into the house. You’re infusing new life into Taylor’s Grove, and we sure can use that.”
“It’s a little bit of a drive for Kale.” The young woman’s eyes scanned the crowd, and Rosemary could tell by the way her face beamed when she’d located her husband. “But the apartment at the marina was just too small to raise a family there. We’ve hired a young man to help run the place, and he’s thrilled with his new ‘bachelor pad.’” She scrunched her fingers in the air to form imaginary quotation marks and shrugged. “Everybody’s happy.”
IvaDawn Carroll moved in on Rosemary’s other side with Nell Bradley behind her. As soon as Bree stepped away, Faith O’Malley stepped in to take her place. And so it went. The remainder of Rosemary’s time on the square was like a dance jam session with her in the center, changing partners constantly. By the time ten o’clock rolled around and Taylor’s Grove started closing down for the night, she was mentally drained and physically exhausted. She headed straight for bed as soon as they got home.
Eli wasn’t too far behind, but far enough that he caught her naked as she changed from her clothes into her nightgown. He pressed against her from behind, kissing her ear and fondling her breasts.
“You can’t be thinking about sex tonight.”
“Not exactly.” He turned her around to face him, keeping her encircled in his arms, and gave her a wolfish grin. “I’m thinking about making love. By my recollection it’s Friday night.”
“Well, yes, but...” She leaned back to see him better. It was true Friday night was—had always been—their night. “Surely, you’re not serious.”
“As a heart attack.” His grin twitched. “Sorry. Bad choice of words.”
“No, Eli.” She pushed free of his embrace and stepped away, snatching up her gown and moving to her side of the bed. “Not in your condition.”
“Dadgummit, Rosie.” He glared at her, gripping his hips. “My condition’s no different than it was two nights ago.”
His words fueled the frustration that was taking the place of her fatigue. “Maybe not, but in my head it’s different. I know now that you’ve got blockages, and they might cause you to have a heart attack.”
“Got my nitro right here.” He shook the small bottle he’d removed from his pocket and placed it on his nightstand.
She was incredulous. “Right in the middle of your coming, you grab your chest and I’m supposed to have the wherewithal to pop a pill in your mouth?”
He laughed and sat down on the bed, thwarting her effort to pull back his side of the covers. “I expect you’ll be coming, too.”
“Don’t be an ass, Eli. No.” She tugged the covers loose enough to slip under them. “I’m too upset.”
Sullenly, he trudged into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and she lay there trying to sort out all the emotions coiled in her stomach. What if something went wrong during the surgery and her precious Eli died? Tonight could be their last chance to be together. On the other hand, what if she gave in, and he had a massive heart attack? She’d never forgive herself. Scenario after scenario played in her mind—none of them good.
By the time Eli emerged from the bathroom and turned out the light, she was a quivering mess. As he crawled into bed, she scooted over to meet him.
“I’m so scared for you,” she whispered, snuggling into the warm side he presented as he raised his arm in invitation.
“Don’t be scared, Rosie.” He rubbed his hand down her arm. “I’m not gonna leave you.”
“I know.” She nodded, feeling sure he meant what he said. “Just hold me.”
“I will.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve no intentions of letting go.”
* * *
THE OLD, YELLOW farmhouse at the end of the drive was pretty and quaint with flowering window boxes, white trim and a couple of red rockers on the porch. Homey was the word that came to mind as soon as Jeff got his first glimpse. It was also lit up like Times Square.
“Looks like somebody’s home,” he said, rolling down his window to get a good look at the giant oak trees that were older than the century-old house.
“I have the lights on a timer,” Mags explained. “I don’t like to come home to a dark house way out here.”
That was understandable. The city boy in Jeff was half-appalled she would even consider living here by herself, with no close neighbors. Somebody could be lurking in the barn or one of those other outbuildings. He bit back his comments, not wanting to scare her. But he didn’t like the arrangement, just the same.
Even the garage was a separate building. They exited it through a side door that led to a beautiful garden area with a stone path running through it. Their rolling luggage clattered against the uneven pavement. The path split off to a stone patio with a hot tub, a fire pit and plenty of seating. “You entertain a lot?” he asked.
“Russ and his friends were here all the time.” He heard the wistful timbre in her voice. This homecoming had to be tough for her, made even more difficult by her dad’s situation.
“Our house has always been a favorite hangout, winter or summer.” She nodded to the huge swimming pool in the side yard and then pointed beyond it into the darkness. “You can’t see it tonight, but over there Russ has started mowing a large area and marked it off himself to use as a driving range.”
Jeff chuckled. “He told me about that. Said you weren’t thrilled with the setup.”
She motioned for him to follow her onto the screened-in back porch, another outdoor living space. “I wasn’t thrilled with the balls he would shank over into the yard and forget to look for when he was finished.” She punc
hed a code into a panel by the back door and he heard the snick of the door as it unlocked. “Run over one of those things with the lawn mower, and it can smash out a window.” She pointed at a window at the back corner. “I have firsthand knowledge of that.”
The back door led into a giant room that was kitchen, dining room and great room combined. Much more modern than he had expected. “Wow! Did you renovate, or did you buy it like this?”
“I had it done.” She pointed to a couple of weight-bearing pillars. “This space used to be chopped up into small rooms. I wanted it open, so I had walls knocked out.”
He did a three-sixty to take it all in. “It looks great.”
“Thanks. Sitting at the hospital with Zeke all those weeks, I had a lot of time to look at magazines. That’s when I started getting ideas about what my own home might look like.”
She led him into the front part of the house through a wide hallway that graced the area around the front door. A stairway climbed the left-hand wall with open doorways flanking it front and back. The one in back opened to a large library that also contained a pool table. The one in front was a small sitting room. To the right of the hall was only one door. Maggie opened it to reveal a bedroom suite that took up the entire front quarter of the house. “My room.” She turned and gave him a questioning look. “And your room while you’re here...if you’d like.”
The weight he’d been carrying in his chest lightened some. “I’d like that very much.” He hadn’t been sure what the arrangements would be once they got back to Taylor’s Grove, especially since he’d invited himself.
They wheeled their luggage into a large walk-in closet, which contained two overstuffed chairs and a lamp. He pointed in question.
“This is also a safe room.” She showed him the massive steel door pushed back into a pocket in the wall. “There’s one upstairs in Russ’s room, too. And the basement has a wine cave that doubles as a storm shelter.”
He shook his head in mock wonder. “You’re certainly prepared for disaster.”
“I try to be. I’m a mom.”
A twinge of sadness darted through him—sadness that life had dealt her enough disaster that she prepared for it now. A far cry from the carefree girl he’d known all those years ago.
He reached for her, brushing his fingers down her spine. She leaned in and kissed him softly, chasing away the fleeting twinge.
By the time they finished the tour of the house—two full baths and three additional bedrooms upstairs, and another that had been transformed into a game room—it was after one o’clock.
“You want to see the basement tonight, or are you ready to go to bed?” she asked as they came down the stairs.
“I’m exhausted from the drive, but I don’t think I can sleep just yet. I need to unwind.”
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned and gave him an awkward glance. “I’m pretty upset about Dad, Jeff. I don’t think—”
“Oh, please, Mags.” He threw an arm across her shoulders and directed her toward the kitchen. “You think I’d suggest sex after the day we’ve had?”
The tension released from her shoulders as they dropped in relief. “How about a Scotch on the patio? It might be a fitting end to this day and relax me enough to sleep.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “You drink Scotch?”
“Macallan 25.”
“The surprises just keep on coming.”
They stopped at the bar on the back porch, and she retrieved the bottle and two heavy crystal glasses. “Ice?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“Me, neither.” She laughed quietly. “I can’t imagine diluting that fabulous peat flavor.”
She poured them each a couple of fingers and then cocked her head in question. “How about enjoying this in the hot tub?” Without waiting for a response, she began taking off her clothes. Watching her undress caused his body to stir in spite of his fatigue, so when he undressed there was no place for his erection to hide.
She just grinned and shook her head slightly as she handed him his drink and led him outside.
The temperature of the hot tub was perfect, and the Macallan was perfect. But it was the twinkling fireflies, like tiny living stars, that caused his breath to catch.
“I haven’t seen fireflies since I left here.”
“Lightning bugs,” she corrected with a grin. “They’re one of my favorite things about summer.”
He followed one in flight, looking up just in time to see a bright shooting star streak across the sky.
“Ooh.” Maggie’s face broke into a dazzling smile. “Make a wish.” She closed her eyes.
He took a sip of his Scotch. It burned a path all the way down into his chest. He didn’t need to wish. The only thing he wanted to wish for could never come true.
It was impossible to rewind the past sixteen years.
But if he could, he would handle things...and this woman beside him...much, much differently.
CHAPTER TEN
“MAGGIE!” EMMYLOU’S EXUBERANCE exploded over the phone line and into Maggie’s car. “Puh-leeze tell me you’re making a serious dent in your shoe budget and not really spending your Chicago time in museums. You want to look at old stuff? I’ll let you wax Hiram Caper’s back the next time he comes in. Ew! Ew! Ew!”
Maggie made the expected gagging sound as she pulled from her lane onto the county road. “Aw, c’mon, Emmy. You know Hiram saves his fur for that coat you’re weaving.” Retching sounds met her ear. “Anyway, I’m not in Chicago anymore. I had to come home early. Remember how you thought Dad’s color was off last week? Well, you were right.” She went on to explain.
“I knew it! But, oh, Maggie, I’m so sorry! How’s Rosemary doing?”
“She was upset when we spoke yesterday, but I haven’t talked to her this morning. I’m headed over there now.”
After stewing about it all night, she’d decided that coming clean with her parents about her houseguest seemed like the best plan of action. Jeff agreed, even suggesting he go with her, but she’d declined his offer. The bomb was hers to drop...but she wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the fallout.
“Give them hugs from me. And, gosh, you, too,” Emmy went on. “You sure didn’t need this on top of moving Russ and having to put up with Jerk-off Jeff.”
Maggie cringed. Emmy had never met Jeff, but over the years, her friend had developed an intense dislike for him, fueled mostly by Rosemary and Eli’s skewed opinions. “Jeff and I actually got along pretty well, considering...” She let her voice trail off. There were a couple of different ways she could finish that sentence. Considering we’ve gone through a box of condoms since Wednesday night or considering he held me close all through the night, but she didn’t want to open up any of that for discussion. Sometime later...not now. It was a conversation that required time...and alcohol...and was sure to be more fun than the version she planned to have with her parents in a few minutes.
Emmy completed the thought. “Considering he’s the jerk-off who left you brokenhearted and leery of relationships for years.”
Yeah...and that.
“I hope you weren’t too nice to him,” Emmy continued. “Just enough to send him back to California with a painful hard-on every time he thinks about you.”
“Well...let’s just say I tried.” Maggie caught a glimpse of her grin in the rearview mirror.
“Good girl. You want to go out tonight? It’d be good for you. Get your mind off your dad.”
“I don’t think so, Emmy. After the bustle of the city and the long drive yesterday, I’m ready for a night at home. Maybe watch a movie or something.” Sharing part of her actual plans with her friend helped to alleviate some of the guilt she felt for her duplicity. Steaks on the grill, a bottle of wine, maybe a movie, maybe a swim—those were the ideas she and Jeff had tosse
d about in bed this morning. A nice, quiet evening at home.
“I understand, girlfriend. You need anything from me?”
“Just keep the business out of bankruptcy.” Maggie threw up a hand and waved to Nell Bradley as their cars passed.
Emmy snorted. “No chance of that. We’ve been full to the gills with that back-to-school special. If I have to tell one more kid to sit still, I’m gonna consider adding a Taser to the end of my comb.”
“You can’t use a Taser on a kid!”
“Not for the kid. I’d zap the mamas. If they’d go sit down and shut their traps long enough for me to do my job, the kids wouldn’t be so squirmy.”
“Or we could start serving martinis and wine. Jeff told me a lot of the salons in California do that.”
“Well, do tell.” Emmy gave a boisterous laugh. “Kentucky bourbon would be more appropriate, I think.”
“Or moonshine.” The turn onto Main Street came into view, and Maggie flipped on her signal.
“Speaking of which, I’ve got a new batch made. I’ll bring you a jar.”
“Apple pie?”
“Yes, ma’am, with whipped cream vodka.”
“Mmm. Can’t wait.” Maggie’s mouth watered just thinking about Emmy’s spicy, homemade, deliciously deceptive concoction. It tasted nothing like the stuff Jeff’s friend Toad used to make in the still he’d built in his barn. But like Toad’s, Emmy’s could knock a mule on its ass in no time flat. “I’m in Taylor’s Grove now, Em. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Call me if you need me.”
Emmy dropped the call on her end as Maggie made the curve around Yager Circle and turned right on Walnut. A short distance up the road brought her to Baxter Hill and her childhood home. Her mom must’ve heard her pull up. She was waiting at the door, face furrowed into a frown by the time Maggie made it to the top of the steps.
“You didn’t do like I asked, did you? You drove all the way home last night.”
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