by Carter Ashby
Her tears spilled over and a cry escaped her lips. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked away.
His heart hurt for her. But surely she knew his staying there would only create tension. She couldn’t possibly want to live under those circumstances. Couldn’t she imagine breakfast alone with him and Frank sitting on opposite sides of the table, not talking to each other and not even knowing how to try even if they wanted to?
But she was dying. And crying. And at this point he was only hurting her—the opposite of what he wanted. “Okay.”
She looked up. “Okay? You’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay. I think it’s a mistake. But I can always move back out.”
“You won’t want to. You’re going to feel right at home. Thank you, Son.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him.
She felt so frail in his arms.
She dried her eyes on her sleeve. He walked her back downstairs and headed to the motel to collect his things.
When he pulled back into his mom’s driveway, several cars were gone. Charlie and Brandon had taken their two kids and gone home. Spencer and his girlfriend were likely gone. Maggie would be in the guest house—and wouldn’t that have been a nice thing to think about before agreeing to stay here? That guest house wasn’t fifty yards from the main house. He could see it from the little window of his attic bedroom. And her down there raising a family all by herself.
Too late to do anything about it now, anyway. Besides, what was he going to say? Sorry, Mom, I can’t stay because I have a crush on my sister-in-law?
Cursing himself, he climbed out of his truck and grabbed his duffel bag out of the back. He made it up the porch steps just as Frank stepped outside, closing the door behind him.
Nothing made him feel more like a scared child than the sight of Frank squaring off in front of him. Silly to be scared of an old man who was at least five inches shorter than him.
Frank folded his arms over his chest. “Son, we should—”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” Logan said.
Frank laughed and dropped his arms. “Fine. Anyway, we should get some things straight. The main one being, you and me want the same thing. For Ellie to be happy. Agreed?”
“Sure.”
“I think we just leave the past in the past and do our best to get along. What do you say?”
“Fine with me.”
Frank extended his hand.
Logan stared at it for a moment. He sighed, dropped his bag, and shook Frank’s hand.
Frank stepped aside and held the door so Logan could go in. He had to drop his bag again when his mom attacked him with a huge hug.
“Hey, Uncle Logan.”
Logan turned to see Charlie’s boy, Dominick, heading from the hallway into the living room. Followed by Maggie’s oldest girl, Gracie.
“Hey, Uncle Logan,” Gracie said, mimicking her cousin.
“Hey,” he said, watching as they plopped down in front of the television, picked up some game controllers, and started playing on an Xbox Logan didn’t know his mom owned.
“They’re sleeping over,” Eleanor said. “They wanted to spend more time together. They’ve built a huge sheet fort in Charlie’s old bedroom.”
“Twenty minutes, kids,” Frank growled as he plopped down in his arm chair. “Then it’s bedtime.”
Logan watched Dom and Gracie expertly work their controllers. He’d seen Dom a time or two. Today was his first time meeting Gracie. And Nate. And the other two—Izzie and Levi. Just babies, those two. Levi was only two. He’d toddled around, today, bouncing from adult to adult. Sometimes the older kids would play with him.
Gracie seemed mature for her age. Lots of attitude, too. More than once he’d heard her voice above the others, giving orders and commands.
“Don’t mine here,” Gracie said. “There’s lava.”
“You’re mining there?”
“Yeah, but I know what I’m doing.”
Logan didn’t know what the hell any of that meant, but she seemed to be in charge. “She looks like Joshy,” he said without thinking.
“She sure does. The oldest three all do. Little Levi has his momma’s coloring.”
“Can’t imagine raising one kid let alone four. All by herself.”
“She’s strong. She’s not all by herself, though. That’s why she’s moving here. She’s gonna have more helping hands than she’ll know what to do with.”
“What about her own family?”
“The way I understand it, they’re pretty hands-off. Divorced. Dad’s in the city—workaholic with a second family. Mom’s traveling the world with her boyfriend.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m headed upstairs. Think of some stuff I can do while I’m here. You know I like to keep busy.”
“I know, dear. Do try and sit and visit now and then.”
He hugged her and carried his things upstairs and into the attic room.
He didn’t want to be there. But since he was there, he thought he might as well enjoy the feel of being home. Kicking back for a while and having family around. He grabbed a shower in the second-floor bathroom, then stretched out best he could on the too-small bed and fell asleep reading a novel.
CHAPTER THREE
THE COURTHOUSE SQUARE was speckled with people—mostly men, mostly farmers—gathering around the front steps for the auction. Maggie got herself registered and her funds verified. Now, she just had to figure out where to go.
At the moment, everyone was milling around. There were two or three people holding iPads near the steps. Maggie looked at the schedule and tried to make sense of it. Josh had always done this part. She’d never even gone to an auction before.
She got a strange tingling in her skin, and she turned and looked up. Logan was strolling across the courthouse lawn, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. He smiled when he saw her. “Morning,” he said.
“Good morning. I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to one of these?”
“Yeah, a time or two.”
“I’m registered and everything, but I have no idea what’s happening now.”
“Let’s ask.” Logan led her through the crowd to one of the iPad people. “Who’s handling foreclosures?” he asked.
The man nodded toward one of the other iPad people. Logan once again led the way and asked about the Daisy Street property. The attorney with the iPad said it was third on his list.
“So we just hang out here,” Maggie said, falling back a little ways as the attorney began crying out for bids on his first property. Several people joined in.
“Yep. Just wait.”
She stood with him at her side and couldn’t help but feel his presence. He was tall and broad and looming like a storm cloud. She’d never met a true brooding cowboy before, and though he didn’t necessarily look like a cowboy, the idea appealed to her.
“I saw your truck in the driveway,” she said. “You decided to stay at the house?”
His lips quirked up like he might smile…but he didn’t. “I was bullied into it.”
“We should have rode here together.”
He frowned down at her. “Yeah.”
“I wasn’t sure if you really wanted to come, though.”
“Said I did, didn’t I?”
She nodded and blushed. “I’m going to want to drive over and look at the house, assuming I win the auction. Do you want to go with me?”
He nodded, turning to look around. “Once you get the deed, I’ll see if I can borrow Frank’s mower. Knock out that lawn for you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Maggie,” he said, turning to face her, eyes wide and serious. “I’m just going to say this once, and then I don’t want to have to say it again. I like work. Chores. Being helpful. Anything you need, you’re doing me a favor letting me help. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, feeling her breath shallow in her lungs.
He studied her for a moment before nodding and turning back to watch the auc
tion.
Maggie moved closer to him. It was involuntary, until she realized she’d done it and began questioning herself. Why move closer? What were these feelings?
Who was she kidding… She knew what these feelings were. And why she’d moved nearer. Because he’d just earned a little of her trust. Because he connected with her for a moment and communicated something respectfully, honestly, and assertively. Because it seemed every tiny interaction she had with the man made her feel more attracted to him.
At last her property came up for bid. It started low, at one hundred dollars. Only two other bidders joined in. One dropped out at three thousand dollars. The other at four thousand dollars, at which point Maggie found herself the proud owner of a very ramshackle house on a possibly snake-infested piece of property.
The whole thing had been so casual. Sure, her stomach had been in knots, but it seemed like such an ordinary, everyday event for everyone that once it was over, she wondered why she’d been nervous in the first place.
“Congratulations,” Logan said.
She beamed up at him. “That was so easy.”
“I’m actually surprised it went that high.”
“I didn’t know what to expect.”
There was a woman sitting at a folding table at the top of the steps. Maggie went and paid in cash. She and Logan walked across the street to her bank so she could deposit the rest of her cash. Then, they walked around the block to a little coffee shop, where she got herself a cappuccino and paid for his plain, black coffee.
They sat outside on the small patio. There wasn’t much traffic on this particular street, and the weather was nice—not too bright, not too cloudy.
“The recorder’s office isn’t open for another hour,” Maggie said. “I’ll probably stay in town and take my sale receipt so we can get to work as soon as possible.”
She noticed the “we” as she said it, but it was too late to take it back. Fortunately, he didn’t seem upset by it. “Hopefully, they can get it for you next week so we can start cleaning it up,” he said. “No telling what’s on the inside. Have to get rid of all the junk and knock down the weeds before we’ll really know what kind of work needs doing.”
She nodded and sipped her cappuccino. Once again he was looking everywhere but at her, so she felt free to study him. “Which bedroom is yours?”
He turned his eyes to hers. “Huh?”
“I’ve been all over that house. Which room is yours?”
“Oh. Uh, attic.”
“There’s an attic?”
“End of the hallway on the second floor. You gotta pull the ladder down from the ceiling.”
“A literal attic.”
“It’s nice. Almost the full length of the house. Ceiling’s a little low. I hit six foot when I was fourteen, so that sucked. But otherwise.” He ended with a shrug.
“Your room is in the attic?”
“My room is the attic.”
“Why would you choose that?”
Logan frowned down at his coffee for a moment. “We moved in right after Joshy was born. Frank said for me to stay up there because I was the oldest. There wasn’t enough rooms for me to have my own on the second floor.”
“There’s an extra bedroom on the main floor.” There was plenty of room in that house for all four kids to have their own rooms.
Logan shrugged. “I think they wanted all the kids upstairs.”
“Did you like it?”
He seemed to need to think about it for a moment. “Well, I was eleven or twelve, so I probably should have been fine with it, but I was pretty scared at first. I had a big imagination and attics can be scary. But eventually it became home. So yeah, I liked it.”
He flashed her a quick smile before sipping some coffee.
Maggie wondered at a father—even a stepfather—making his kid sleep in the attic. But who was she to judge? Maybe it was nice up there.
She had about a million more questions for the man. She could easily keep him sitting there with her for days, if she was able. But a different man came along. One she hadn’t even thought she’d run into, though she should have. She should have not only thought of the possibility of bumping into him…she should have gone out of her way to pay him a visit when she first arrived.
But she hadn’t.
And so when he came and stood in front of her table, she was stunned speechless.
“Maggie?”
He was tall. Dressed in a suit. Lean and handsome. Blond hair and a bit of stylish scruff. “David,” she said, her breath nearly gone at the sight of him.
Time had slowed down. And then it sped back up in a rush, and she leaped to her feet and hugged him. “David, how are you?”
“Better now.” He laughed, lifting her off her feet briefly.
She turned to introduce Logan, but he was already on his feet. “David, this is Josh’s brother…”
“Logan. Of course. Heard you were back in town.”
Logan shook his hand but showed no sign of pleasure. Or displeasure. Just a blank expression.
“Won’t you sit with us?” she asked.
David agreed and they all took their seats. Maggie scooted her chair closer to Logan’s. “David and I used to date.”
David blushed to his ears and laughed. “A date. One. You picked Josh after that, remember?”
“I thought we went out more than that.”
“Nope. I would remember.”
“Well, anyhow, high school, right? It was forever ago.”
“Seems like it. Are you here visiting?”
“Actually, I’m moving back. Just bought a house at auction, and Logan’s going to help me fix it up.”
Logan looked over at her but betrayed no thought or emotion in his expression.
“I wish I’d known,” David said. “I own quite a few properties. I probably could have helped you out.”
“I’m really happy with what I found. It’s going to need a lot of work, but Josh and I always did that sort of thing when we were moving around. We’d buy fixer-uppers. Get them fixed up while he was stationed there, then sell them when we had to move.”
“Well, hell, maybe you can help me out, then. I’m always looking for good contractors.”
Maggie found herself smiling. “It’s really good to see you.”
“Yeah. Well, I heard you were in town. I’m not gonna lie, I kind of expected a call or visit.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy.”
“Sure. You know, we did date, though.” He was grinning at her. Leaned back in his chair, ankle propped on his knee. The breeze blew his hair over his forehead, and she remembered suddenly what a charmer he’d been back then—how he’d fought so hard to win her heart away from Josh. Both of them so handsome and popular. Josh all dark hair and playful. David a little more serious and fair. “How about lunch sometime?” he asked.
“I’d love to.”
David pulled out his phone. “Well, that was easy. I’m going to get this down on the calendar before you change your mind. Tomorrow okay?”
“Maybe after church.”
“I go to church with your in-laws. I’ll just take you out after. Sound good?”
She agreed. He stood and she stood to hug him goodbye. When he walked off and was out of earshot, Maggie looked down at Logan. “Want to drive by my house?”
He drove. No sense both of them driving separately. She sat on the bench seat next to him, strands of hair falling out of her braid. Rosy cheeks. A relentless hint of a smile always there.
Logan thought about how happy she’d been to see David. How she’d leaped into his arms. How they’d talked about their past like it was just yesterday.
David would be the guy. The hero of the story. He’d missed his first chance with her. Now he had a second chance. Hell, the guy already got a date with her. Maybe not a date date…but close enough. She would go, she would flirt, she would remember how she used to care for him.
Logan loosened his grip on the steer
ing wheel and ungritted his teeth. Ridiculous getting so worked up. Jealousy, pure and simple. And for what? A woman he couldn’t have, anyway.
He pulled into the driveway of 901 Daisy. Maggie was out of the truck before he had it in park. By the time he turned the ignition off, she was up on that unstable porch, peering into the windows. “I cannot wait to get in there.”
He checked to see if the garage happened to be easy to open. It was locked. “We’ll have to install an electric door,” he muttered more to himself than anything.
“I don’t mind lifting it open the old-fashioned way,” she said.
“You might mind when it’s raining or snowing.”
She grunted and made her way to the other side of the porch to peer into another set of windows. “Gonna need new windows. These are really energy inefficient. Have to get a dumpster, too. Look at all that junk.”
Logan stepped carefully up the porch steps. He had a good hundred pounds on Maggie, and he’d hate to step right through one of the rotted boards and take her down with him. He made it to her side, cupped his hands over his eyes, and looked inside.
There were a few boxes. An old piece of workout equipment. A shattered television. Blankets, clothes, and trash everywhere. “Carpet’s gotta go,” he said.
“Every scrap of it. What do you think it smells like in there?”
“I mean, we’re probably going to have to strip it down to the studs.”
“God, I hope not.”
Logan dropped his hands and stood to his full height. He looked up and wondered what was on the second floor. Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as downstairs. “Is there a basement?”
“Yeah. Unfinished.”
He winced. Hopefully it was in good shape. “How much money you got?”
“Why?”
“Just thinking of worst case scenarios.”
She stood and faced him. “I’ve thought it through. I’ll be okay.” She looked more amused than annoyed.
He was downwind of her, and the gentle, sweet scent of her made him ache deep down inside. This was not going to end well. “Maybe I shouldn’t help you,” he said.