Heat Wave (Riders Up) (26 page)

Maggie was
speechless. She’d been terribly wrong.

“Did you believe I
was so fickle that I’d play with your emotions until something better came
along?” Ed stood and passed to the end of the porch.

Her eyes widened as
she realized that she’d hurt him while trying to protect herself—her pride had not
only led her to believe what he would do when he was reinstated, but worse, prevented
her from asking him directly. So she’d been content to skip along in her
presumptive world, making him much less than the man he was. He wouldn’t break
his word. Clearly, he’d stay to help her rebuild the stable, if that was what
she wanted.

“Don’t you have
anything to say for yourself? You’re usually much more verbal than this. Or is
it still the shock of the fire?”

“I don’t know what
to say,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, I underestimated you. I’m glad you’re
willing to help, but I’m still not sure I want to rebuild.”

“Help! Haven’t you
heard anything I’ve been trying to say?”

As he stood before
her, Maggie stiffened. It was her land, dammit. And if she wanted to sell, she
would. She began to speak, but he pressed a finger across her lips.

“Woman, I have no
plans of leaving, now or later.” His voice was deep and guttural. “It never
seriously occurred to me that you would be willing to leave this place. I won’t
leave you, Maggie Anderson, until you kick me out. I love you too much for
that.”

“You what?”

“Do I have to draw
you a picture? I love you. Last night was about love. It wasn’t about a last
tumble in the hay. And I think you love me. People who love each other don’t
walk away when things get rough. They work together. They work things out,
together
.”

Maggie’s heart
raced, her breathing stilled. She moved her lips, but no sounds came out. His
eyes had turned to liquid gray; his features softened.

“I’m saying, if you’ll
have me, I’d like to grow old with you, Maggie. Sometimes I don’t know why...”
he brushed a tear from her cheek. “You can be as stubborn as a mule. And you
can totally misread people, but I love you as you are. I…”

“And I love you as
you are,” Maggie finally burst out. He looked so calm;
her
hands were
doing the shaking. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, wanting to imprint
this moment on her memory. If she wasn’t mistaken, Ed Harrington had just
declared his love for her. Stumbling out of her chair, beaming, she clambered
into his arms.

His lips against
hers were tender, cool against her burning mouth. “Maggie, you wouldn’t give up
on me when I was crumbling, when I was nearly down for the count. Don’t give up
on me now. Don’t give up on us. We’ve got so much going for us. Give us a
chance.”

Eagerly, Maggie
placed wet kisses across his soot-stained face. Giggling, she said, “I won’t
give up, I swear—ever, ever.”

“Then, you’ll marry
me?”

Maggie’s eyes
widened; her breathing became as ragged as it had in the midst of the barn
fire.

“I love you. Marry
me.”

She could feel the
tumblers of her brain tipping over and spinning. He was completely sincere;
this was not a response to their loss. He’d reached this point before the fire.
The letter had freed him up to move forward. He was waiting for her response as
patiently as if he was working with a weanling.
Marry me.

This was what she
had wanted. This was her hope and her dream. Why wouldn’t words come? Was she
still afraid he’d flee? She’d just given him that opportunity, and he hadn’t taken
it.
Marry me.

And then she felt a
broad smile split her face. “You better believe it, cowboy. I’ll marry you
today, if you want. Or next month. Or whenever.” Laying her head on his chest,
she offered, “We’ll make quite a team.”

“That proposal wasn’t
as romantic as I’d planned, but it will have to do.”

“It did real fine,”
she responded, luxuriating in his arms. “What a twenty-four hours we’ve had.”

“That’s for sure.”
He set her back down on her feet. “Now that we know I’m staying, how about
backing off on selling the farm? I know how important the land is to you and to
your family. Give it some time. Okay?”

“Okay,” she
murmured. “We’ll work it out…together. I love you so much. I can’t believe our
good fortune. The kids will be ecstatic. Wait till I tell Flo.” She glanced up
to see him frowning. “Well, it is okay to talk about isn’t it? This isn’t some
secret we have to hold onto for the next forty years.”

“Of course not,” he
conceded. “Guess I’m just not sure how to proceed. I’m looking forward to
telling the kids, but I’m not so sure about the neighbors.” He leaned away from
her and spread his arms out wide. “I can see the local headlines:
Big City
Drifter Lassoes Local Maverick Girl.“

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

By late afternoon
following the fire, casseroles, salad bowls, cake pans, pie tins, wax paper,
and plain boxes overran the Anderson kitchen. Maggie couldn’t fathom how her
neighbors had come up with the volume and variety of food. There was ham,
chicken, beef, fish, cooked and raw vegetables, and more deserts than she
figured were healthy for any family. One person even brought Chinese and
another, frozen pizza. Maggie knew this was typical for small rural communities
in times of crises. Lord, she’d cooked many a dish to take to a home when
someone had been ill or died.

A wave of weakness
flooded Maggie—her community still accepted her. It felt good to belong; it
always had. Some of her neighbors could be royal pains at times, but all in all
she wouldn’t trade any of them for the big city.

She stopped putting
away food to savor the moment. Even in the face of what was a dark, tragic
moment, she was thrilled about the future.

Without a word, she
stepped over to kiss Ed lightly on his head, then quickly stepped away. He wanted
her, and she didn’t have to move away from Beaverhill to have him. The kids
were excited about having him for a real dad.

Ed pulled his eyes
away from the charts he was working on long enough to ask with a curious glint
in his eyes, “What was that about?”

“Nothing more than
a little
I love you,”
she said, returning to the task of finding room
for food.

The soft response, “I
love you, too,” came before he resumed reading.

Maggie wished
everything could stay as comfortable as it was in the familiar warmth of her
kitchen. It wouldn’t. The cloud of danger still loomed over all of them. They
would remain wary of strangers and be on alert, but Maggie was confident that
together they could face anything. She’d regained her composure and her mettle;
no way would she be frightened into selling.

The fire marshal
had already determined the barn fire was the work of an arsonist. Although the
sheriff continued to scratch his head in wonderment about the whole situation,
Ed had told her that Clint Travers had a private investigator nosing around in
the area.

It still amazed her
that the man who seemed so at ease with kids and horses operated a detective
agency on the side. Mainly, he was a silent investor, but it sounded like he
had taken a personal interest in their case.

A knock on the
porch door elicited a groan from her. “Not more food. There’s no space for it.”

“Hi, Maggie,” Ben
Templeton said, stepping through the doorway carrying several folders and
pamphlets. “Do you have a minute or two?”

“Of course. Come in.
I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Sorry, I forgot to call you about the insurance
claim.”

“That’s only part
of the reason I’m here,” he said, nodding to Ed, who had put aside his paper.

“Why the catalogs,
Templeton?” Ed asked as Ben pulled up a chair and Maggie set a cup of coffee in
front of him. “You planning on building a barn?”

“Sort of,” Ben replied.
His grin was tight. “Actually, you two are.”

Maggie wondered why
Ben was nervous. He seldom appeared to have a worry. Pulling up a chair for
herself, she said, “We haven’t decided what to build. We need more time. And
even with the insurance, I’m not sure we can afford to rebuild. The costs are
much higher today than when we took out the policy.”

Ben sipped his
coffee. He glanced at Maggie and looked quickly away. He paused. At last he
spoke, “Yes, that might have been a problem, but not anymore.”

Maggie scowled. “What
do you mean?”

“I’ve already gone
over the insurance papers. You’ll do okay, but it won’t pay for the kind of
facility you need. However,” he hesitated, fingering one of the pamphlets, “people
in town and your neighbors out here in the country have been keeping the phone lines
hot all day.”

“So?”

“So, folks around
here don’t like it when someone is out to hurt one of their own. You should
know that, Maggie.” Shoving the catalogs across the table to her, he said, “Your
friends and neighbors want to help out. They want you to pick out a barn design
that will meet your needs. Quickly, before winter sets in. They’ll provide the
labor. We have carpenters, plumbers, and electricians prepared to donate their
labor. You’ll only have to cover the cost of materials.”

Maggie reached a
hand to her forehead trying to steady herself. Ed gave her a knowing smile. She
started to speak, but Ben continued on.

“The insurance
money probably won’t cover even that, but an anonymous donor appeared on my
doorstep first thing this morning. That donor is prepared to cover any costs in
excess of insurance up to $100,000.”

“My God,” Maggie
gasped, “I can’t take that. Nobody around here could afford to do that.”

“I know it’s a bit
of a shock, Maggie. But the money has already been deposited into an escrow
account that I’m empowered to manage. All bills are to come directly to me.”

“But how can we
take the money? I’m not a charity case.” Maggie clenched her fists.

“Of course not, but
you
are
part of a community that does not want to be pushed around by anyone.
This is more than helping a neighbor in need. It is a statement to whoever is
trying to bring you down. We will not stand by and allow that kind of
vigilantism to win out. If you fold under that kind of pressure, who will be
next?”

“But who can afford
that kind of money?”

“I can’t tell you
that. But I can assure you that the money is available for the sole purpose of
helping rebuild Anderson Stables. So what are you going to do about it?” Ben
peered over the top of his eye glasses, which as usual had slid down his nose. “Are
you going to let your neighbors down and run?”

“Oh, my goodness.” Maggie
giggled into her cupped hands, glancing back and forth between Ben and Ed.

“What do you think,
Ed?” she asked softly.

“It’s your call,
Maggie.”

“You don’t get off
that easy,” she chided. “Remember, we’re doing this together.”

Ed frowned. “I’m
committed to rebuilding. I don’t know about the community thing. That seems
bigger than even us. Maybe in time we could pay it back.”

“That’s it! Can we
treat the extra money as a loan, Ben?”

“The donor
anticipated your response. The money cannot be repaid to the donor. But,” Ben
steepled his hands, “if you wanted to give some of it back to the community
later on, the donor suggests setting up a college scholarship fund at
Beaverhill High School for kids who want to study agriculture or related
subjects.”

“Guess we can’t
argue with that,” Maggie said pensively. “A lot of kids could benefit from the
money.” She nodded at Ed. “Looks like we’ve got some planning to do in short
order.”

“That’s for sure,”
Ed agreed. “Winter could hit us most anytime. With luck, it’ll hold off another
six weeks or so. That should give us plenty of time to build and settle the
horses. I’m most concerned about the broodmares. We’re darned lucky none of
them aborted during the fire.”

Reaching for his
hand, Maggie murmured, “I think we’re just plain lucky to be alive, to be a part
of this community, to have the kids, and to have each other.”

Ed leaned over to
brush his lips across hers.

Clearing his
throat, Ben said, “I expect there’s more going on here than I knew about.”

Maggie felt herself
blush a little. “Yes, we’re going to get married after the first of the year. Hopefully,
things will be back to normal by then so we can actually have a honeymoon.”

“All right! Congratulations
to both of you,” Ben said, grinning broadly. “I’m pleased for you, Maggie. I
sure didn’t know when I referred you to a horse trainer that I was playing
matchmaker.”

“Neither did I, but
you couldn’t have done a better job if you had tried.”

The days flew by. Maggie
and Ed selected a design for their new stable. The building was designed
specifically for horses and would make a better all around horse facility than
the old remodeled cattle barn. An enclosed riding arena would also meet their
winter training needs.

Maggie stood at the
kitchen sink staring out the window. Where there had been only charred ruin a
week before, many men and a few women were scurrying about checking off
supplies, unloading lumber, and pacing out the new barn dimensions. It looked
like what she might imagine to be a beehive having a fire drill. She wondered
if that made her the queen bee. What a thought.

A clear division of
labor existed. The older women worked in the house helping her with food
preparation. Many of the younger women were swinging hammers beside the men. When
had the feminist movement subtly hit Iowa?

Chatter and
swapping of news droned among the women in the house while they sliced
vegetables, peeled potatoes, and cooked meats. The warmth and odors of the
kitchen soothed Maggie’s nerves some, but it was difficult to concentrate on
gossip while so much was taking place outside that would alter her life.

Could things really
be turning around? How many times had she heard and even said that old phrase,
Out
of darkness comes light.
She felt good; really good. But her bones seemed
less certain. Maggie’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t about to let even her bones
disturb her good mood.

Ed had moved into
the house, since the loft had gone up in smoke with the rest of the barn. Having
a fair amount of money tucked away in a savings account, he was able to
re-outfit himself without any difficulty.

They’d agreed for
him to sleep in the downstairs guest room rather than share her bedroom. She
shook her head softly. Ed was somewhat old fashioned about some things. With
the kids in the house, he thought they should maintain some semblance of
decorum.

Maggie chuckled at
the memory of Carolyn’s response: “Why not share the same bed? You’re sleeping
together anyway. We’re not stupid, you know.”

Maggie shuddered at
her lame excuse: “That’s just the way we want it to be.” Right! Well, that was
the way it was.

Living arrangements
aside, there had been plenty of opportunity for lovemaking. She’d never before
given much thought to the amorous advantages of having kids in school. It had
been pure pleasure to make unhurried love with Ed. He was such a considerate
lover; there would never be enough time to get her fill of him. But she
certainly was willing to work very hard at trying.

“How many pots of
coffee do you have brewing?” Ed asked, sticking his head through the kitchen
doorway.

“Four pots. I
borrowed two from the church and one from the school. Hope that’s enough.”

“We’ll need them
all. It’s chilly, but the sun is burning off the frost. Can’t expect much
better for November. There must be twenty people working on the barn. I’m told
more food should be arriving shortly. At this rate, the barn will be raised by
the end of the weekend. These folks came to work.” Ed brushed his lips across
hers and squeezed her butt before turning to go back to the construction site.

Maggie felt her
skin warm; she glanced furtively around at the other women helping in the
kitchen. If they noticed that little love statement, no one was letting on. She
worried a little about what her neighbors might think, but damn, it was good to
have a man in her life again.

“You seem to have
found quite a man for yourself,” ventured Amanda Jackson, smiling knowingly at
Maggie. “Randy can’t say enough good things about him.”

Maggie returned the
worn stocky woman’s smile. The woman had given birth to nine children and
worked many hours beside her husband to raise her family. Yeah, she knew
something about having a man in her life.

“Thanks, Amanda. I
think he’s pretty great, too.”

“Well, many of us
want you to know that we’re right pleased for you, Maggie.” Drying her chapped
hands on a dishtowel, she added, “It was past time you found another husband. We
should honor the dead, but the dead don’t keep you warm on a cold winter night.”

Maggie felt a lump
of emotion constricting her windpipe. Somebody actually understood. Unable to speak,
she nodded. Lunch time approached. Maggie hoped they were prepared. Tables had
been set up in the living room, dining room and on the porch as well as in the
kitchen. All the women had agreed that paper plates would suffice. There was no
need to take this community togetherness to the point of having to wash piles
and piles of dirty dishes. The workers wouldn’t mind what they ate off of as
long as there was plenty of food. And it was unlikely that Mrs. McPherson would
be by. She always complained at community dinners if china was not used.

An air of
determination and happiness hung over all who shared the noon meal. Maggie
moved from table to table bringing more food and thanking each person for
helping out.

People were glowing
with pride. Ben was right. While her friends and neighbors were sacrificing
much to help her out of a difficult time, they also were the beneficiaries. Each
of them was reminded that they were part of a larger community, and when their
turn came for a crisis, their friends and neighbors would stand by them, too.