by Megan Bryce
She said, “What did you tell them?”
“That you want to save Caldwell. And Cole wants to smash.”
She nodded. “That was good thinking.”
Tanner took another sip, looking down into the glass. “Didn’t take a real genius to come up with that. I’m not even sure I was the one who did.”
Ginny said, “And they might not think Cole is the only one who wants to smash after they hear the deal you made with Jackson tonight.”’
“That kind of deal is reserved for him only. I couldn’t help myself.”
Although a one-year moratorium would really help.
Her debt was strangling her, and she might be loosening the noose a bit but survival was nowhere near guaranteed.
She was almost sorry there was only one Jackson Harwood she could browbeat.
Tanner said, “It won’t take much to convince everyone that Jackson gets his own special deal. I might even be able to spin it as you being willing to work with anyone if you’re willing to work with him.”
Maggie stared at Tanner, wondering if it was fair to use him, wondering what was in it for him. He saw her look and said, “They’ll listen to me. They think I hate Cole and that I’m on their side.”
Cole wasn’t the only one Tanner had reason to hate.
Maggie said, “Are they wrong?”
If she could have come up with any solution other than firing him, she would have. You don’t fire family. She still felt like she’d thrown him overboard, the first casualty of their sinking ship.
He downed the rest of his drink, sighing softly. “Oh, I hate Cole. And I would return the favor and destroy him if I could.”
Ginny went to him, sliding her arms around his waist. She said with conviction, “You wouldn’t. Not if it meant hurting us, too.”
He looked down at her and whispered, “Never.”
And no matter what Cole had done, no matter what Maggie had done, she knew that was true. Tanner would never do anything to hurt her sister. Never do anything to hurt Caldwell Holdings, on purpose.
The company belonged to Ginny just as much as Maggie. Even if both of them forgot it occasionally.
Tanner put his drink down, wrapping his arms around his wife and Maggie pretended not to see the shimmer of tears in Ginny’s eyes.
They said love was blind. Maggie’s had been. She’d loved, blind to Tanner’s faults.
But somewhere in the years since Ginny had married Tanner, Maggie had realized that real love, lasting love, wasn’t blind. It was wide-eyed and accepting. It was give and take. It weighed the good against the bad. It saw all the dark recesses and didn’t wither.
Lasting love was about balance, and Ginny and Tanner balanced each other.
Maggie rose, leaving them alone and heading for a shower. No longer needing a cold one, thanks to Jackson Harwood. And she again imagined kicking him in the teeth, and for good measure, Cole smashing in his face.
A one-year moratorium might not feel as good but hopefully it would hurt more in the end.
A two percent interest rate would be the gift that kept on giving.
And if she wished she could let Cole loose, watch him destroy the man…oh well. She could always picture the look on Jackson’s face when he realized that was what she wanted to do. That he really was going to have to pay to keep that from happening.
She smiled and thought she just might need a cold shower, after all.
Tanner refilled his glass again, taking it to the chair and sighing when he sat down.
Ginny followed to sit in his lap and when he snuggled into her, when he didn’t push her away, she almost cried.
He said, “I’ve got a few meetings lined up to discuss projects. In exchange for putting in a good word with Maggie. And Cole.”
She pulled her head off his shoulder and he grinned at her. He said, “I don’t know why they think Cole will listen to me but I will not look a gift horse in the mouth. And I know Maggie will be fair anyway.”
“Except if you piss her off like Jackson.”
“He has a talent. It takes a lot for Maggie to lose her temper.”
“He deserved it.”
Tanner nodded. “If she’d heard him at the club, she would have called Cole up herself and told him to have at it.”
“And you didn’t stand up for her?”
“Why would I? She doesn’t need me to protect her. She does just fine by herself.”
Ginny frowned at him and he ran his hand down her hair. He said softly, “And everyone thinks I hate her just as much as Cole.”
He should hate Ginny just as much as well. She’d known that Maggie was going to fire him, had known that the debt would have kept piling up if they didn’t and had been afraid that they would lose everything.
She put her head back down and squeezed him, holding him to her. The guilt eating her.
Tanner said, “I don’t hate her. She stepped on my pride, that’s all.”
Ginny squeezed him harder. “That’s all?”
He squeezed her back. “I’ll survive. That might be my special talent. To use whatever I have to survive.”
She was quiet at that, remembering how unhappy her father had been when they’d married, how he’d thought Tanner was just marrying her for money, for connections. But Daddy had been wrong.
Tanner hadn’t married her for any reason except he loved her.
He’d married her then because he’d needed her money and connections. And what good would it have done to wait, when he’d needed her then? They would have married eventually anyway; Ginny would have followed him to the ends of the earth.
But she preferred to stay in Texas.
Ginny said, “I’d like to come with you, when you go discuss your projects.”
“You would?”
She nodded, looking back up. “I’d like to know what you’re looking at, thinking of. Maybe we can be partners, bounce ideas off each other. Maybe start something together, just us.”
“Doesn’t Maggie need you?”
“She has Cole now.”
Tanner was quiet, took another long sip, and finally said, “You think she does?”
“What do you mean?”
“Cole is not…trustworthy. She should know that and I don’t know why she’s trusting him.”
“They were good friends for a long time.”
Tanner gave her a disbelieving look and she said, “Maybe he feels bad about that.”
“And maybe he’s just looking for a way to do the same to her as he did to my family.”
“I don’t think he is. Why would he help save Caldwell if all he wanted to do was destroy it?”
“Because he’s Cole Montgomery. How many times did his father make a contract only to turn around and break it? To use it to destroy? It’s in his blood.”
Ginny said, “We can’t judge him by his father.”
“No, we can judge him by what he did.”
“And what he hasn’t done again since?”
Tanner said, “He hasn’t been in a position to do it again since. He was working his way out of his own bankruptcy. Too busy with his wells. But now he has the time and the means. And the opportunity.”
She didn’t have an answer to that and Tanner said, “He hates me, Ginny. He’ll destroy anything that is connected to me.”
“It was a long time ago, Tanner.”
“You think either one of us has forgotten?”
Tanner hadn’t. Common sense would say Cole hadn’t either.
Ginny said, “And what if Cole does destroy Caldwell? It would have been lost without him anyway. If he wants to destroy it after saving it, is anything really lost?”
“You think it won’t matter to Maggie? To have hope again and then lose it? Lose it to someone who is supposed to be helping her?”
Ginny knew it would destroy her sister.
Maggie had been friends with Cole for years, had been sleeping with Cole when he’d bankrupted Tanner’s family, but that had been the
end. Maggie hadn’t seen him again.
She’d become harder, more closed. Less trusting, more alone.
Maggie had been betrayed once. To trust again and then be betrayed again?
Who could survive that?
Ginny remembered how Maggie had looked tonight. Happy. Soft.
She said, “She has Cole right now. Whether or not he’s trustworthy, we’ll just have to see. I’d still like to be a part of what you’re doing. Still like to make something of us together.”
Tanner needed her, no maybe about it. If her sister needed her later, so be it. But right now, Maggie was okay
Tanner stood, carefully pushing her off his lap. He walked to the drinks and stared down.
He said softly, “I’m sorry, Ginny. Sorry that I can’t give you anything you want.”
Ginny closed her eyes.
Oh, how it hurt.
They didn’t talk about it but it lay there between them. A gaping black void they thought would be filled with children. Filled with a future, and now there was nothing.
They’d tried and they’d tried. And now there was no money to try anything else.
Ginny followed him, hugging his back. She laid her head against him and listened to his heart.
She said, “I have what I want. I wouldn’t choose anyone else for a dozen children.”
He laughed bitterly. “No children, no money. No job. You’d do better on your own.”
“If that was really true, I would have left you already.”
“You stay because of loyalty.”
“No. I stay because I love you. I stay because I like you. I stay because you’re mine.”
She crawled under his arm to look him in the eye. “I didn’t marry you because of the children you’d give me, I just assumed that would follow. I didn’t marry you for the fortune you want to make back. I married you because I love you. I married you because I like you.”
He shook his head. “There is nothing to like about a failure.”
“Tanner…you can’t help success. It’s luck. Whether something works out or not depends on outside factors. How many men came out the same time as our grandfathers, did the same things with no results? They were in the right place, at the right time. Their wealth was built on luck. You can’t judge yourself a failure if success is based on luck. You can only judge yourself against how hard you work. You have to be happy with that, no matter what the results are.”
“The results are we will be living in a cockroach-infested apartment with rags on our back.”
“I’d be happy living in that cockroach-infested apartment as long as it was with you. Because I know you will be working to get us out. Because you see what isn’t but what could be. Because you have hope in the future. That’s worth liking. That’s worth loving.”
“Even if we never get out?”
“Yes.”
He pushed her hair back from her face and said, “I’m not willing to leave it to luck.”
“No. You have to work for it, too. You just can’t base your self-worth on whether you’re successful or not. Whether we’re successful or not. I’d like to be a part of it. Let’s make something together, Tanner. Just the two of us.”
“And when Cole does what he does? When Maggie needs you?”
When she didn’t say anything he shook his head, stepping away from her. “You chose me over your dad when we got married. I think that’s why he let us get married, honestly. But not Maggie. Never Maggie.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Ginny. Loyalty isn’t a fault. I just don’t want you to ever have to choose again.”
She said, “I’d choose you.”
He sighed as if he didn’t believe her and she said again, “I’d choose you, Tanner. Next time I’d choose you.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
Ginny was half-afraid he was right.
Maggie was awoken a few hours later by a light tapping at her window. Halfway through “Shave and a Haircut” she flung the sheet off, glancing at the clock and cursing when she saw it read four-thirty.
She padded to the window, raising the blinds to glare at Cole.
He grinned and held up two cups of coffee.
When she opened the window he said, “I brought sex, too. If you hurry.”
“What do you want?”
“To get even, obviously. And to make you think twice about waking me up so early without any kind of incentive.”
She looked at the cup in his hand. “Point taken. Next time I wake you up, I’ll be sure to bring something scalding hot I can throw at you. Or wait, just give me that one.”
Cole shook his head. “Cranky. You’ll feel better after you say it.”
She narrowed her eyes and he said, “I know you’re thinking it. Just say it.”
“No.”
“Stop being a lady. It’s only me.”
She waved toward her clock and said it. “It’s four-fucking-thirty.”
He chuckled, a deep low sound in the dark that made her stomach wobble. Made her think of other activities that happened in the dark.
He said, “Feel better?”
“No. I’m still awake.”
“Awake’s good. We’ve got paperwork to do.”
She started to close the window. “Come back in four hours.”
“Nope. We’ve got a date with a sunrise, a blanket, and a watering hole.”
She raised her eyebrows at him and he said, “Just trying to keep the good times rolling. Yesterday went better than I could have hoped.”
“Taking me out to the watering hole is not going to do the trick.”
“When was the last time you were out there?”
“Oh, about sixteen years ago.”
He grinned at her. “You could have got it back if you’ll remember.”
She pursed her lips. “I remember.”
“Good thing one of us is willing to forgive and forget.”
“Perhaps you should remember that the person who is willing to forgive and forget is not me.”
She started to shut the window again and he said, “I’ll just go ring the doorbell a few times.”
“You know I don’t take well to threats.”
“It’s all I’ve got.”
She crossed her arms. “Find something else.”
“I already offered sex.” He held up a cup. “And coffee.”
“I don’t know why you thought that would work.”
He sipped. “Wishful thinking. But I did get some creamer for the coffee. Caramel macchiato.”
Maggie glanced at the cup he was holding and he said, “I probably should have led with that.”
She cleared her throat. “I’m not eating again until Monday.”
“It’s not eating, it’s coffee. But I suppose that means you don’t want the donuts I’ve got in the truck.”
Her stomach woke up at the mention of donuts. What was it about overeating? She could go months without caring for food but one day of stuffing her face and her willpower wobbled at the mention of donuts.
She said, “You should have led with the donuts.”
He took another sip, smacking his lips. “I honestly thought I was going to have to hold you down to get you to eat them.”
“You were looking forward to it, weren’t you?”
“Little bit.”
She thought about donuts. Thought about washing it down with sweet, rich coffee and said, “I don’t want to do paperwork at four-thirty in the morning.”
“Believe me, that makes two of us. But I have a point to make.”
She cocked her head. “If I go with you, we’ll call it even?”
“Even. I don’t want you coming over tomorrow at four. For paperwork.”
She nodded, shutting the window, ignoring his suggestion to leave those shorts on.
A few minutes later, she hopped into the cab of his truck dressed in jeans and running shoes. Cole handed her a coffee and she took a long sip, the bre
w rich and bitter and sweet on her tongue, and she noted the donut box sitting on the seat between them. Cole flipped open the box, picking one out and taking a big bite before turning on the ignition.
Maggie made herself wait until they turned onto the main road before she picked out a maple bar, just to give her flagging willpower a little punishment.
Cole laughed at her and reached for another.
They ate and drank in companionable silence, the dark confines of the truck cozy. She wouldn’t ever say it out loud but Cole was right. The truck was more comfortable than her car.
He drained his coffee, sighing. He smiled over at her and she raised her eyebrows in question.
He said, “I like watching you eat.”
“Just how long have you been without a girlfriend, Cole?”
He chuckled, pulling onto an overgrown dirt track. “Long enough.”
They bounced along until they pulled up to a pool of water, the sky just beginning to lighten.
Maggie got out, plopping her hands onto her hips, turning in a circle, taking in the watering hole. The trampled muddy edges, the liberal smattering of cow patties.
She said, “It looks the same. Maybe smaller.”
He looked at her expression and nodded. “Why is it that the things you love as a kid are a little disgusting as an adult?”
Maggie laughed. “It really is disgusting. I used to love wading around the edges and now I’m wondering why I didn’t catch some horrible disease.”
Cole put down the gate on the truck and jumped up. He unrolled two camping mats, putting a cardboard box between them.
Maggie sighed at the proof that they really were going to do paperwork so early in the morning, then squared her shoulders and handed her briefcase up to Cole before climbing up the wheel.
He said, “Why didn’t we ever come out here when we were sneaking around? Lots of privacy out here.”
“Maybe because I would have stopped sneaking around with you if you’d reminded me about it.”
“Teenage boys do have a sixth sense about that sort of thing.”
Maggie sat down cross-legged, opening her briefcase and snorting. “I doubt men ever outgrow that sixth sense.”
She pulled out a printed spreadsheet, squinting at it in the early morning light. She said, “This isn’t going to work. I, at least, didn’t wake you up uselessly.”