A week had passed, and everyone had settled into a routine. Carly had finished her finals, so she had a few free days until graduation. She was usually up by nine to fix Travis’s breakfast. The home health aide came mid-morning to help him bathe and dress. And Maggie made it a habit to be up and out the door before anyone roused. Most mornings, she went to the Brass Rail early to do some bookkeeping, or take inventory, or organize the liquor shelf. She didn’t want another sappy encounter with Travis like the day she’d forgotten her keys.
Bare feet slapping against the cool, wood floor, Maggie traipsed through the living room toward the kitchen, her eyes mere slits as she squinted at the early morning light streaming through the windows. The house was still and peaceful. She turned the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead when she found Travis sitting at the table. With his back to her, she glanced down at her baggy wrinkled T-shirt and faded yoga pants, and considered running back to her room to change. She hadn’t even run a brush through her hair.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He spun his wheelchair around to face her, smiling sweetly as he maneuvered toward the counter. “I made coffee. Want some?”
“I . . . uh . . . sure.”
“Still take it with cream and sugar?”
“Just cream.” She watched in a daze as he pulled himself up on his good leg and reached for a mug from the cabinet. He poured the coffee, topping it off with cream from an old pitcher she hadn’t used in years, and lowered back into the chair. Holding the mug in one hand, he wheeled himself back to her with the other. Maggie stayed planted in the same spot with her mouth hanging open. Who was this man and what had he done with the real Travis?
“Here you go. Want some toast?”
“Um . . . no, thanks.” She dropped into a chair, placing her elbows on the table and her face in her hands.
“Late night? I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Uh, yeah, I closed last night. Got home around two-thirty.”
“I don’t know how you keep those hours.”
Her head popped up, and she glared at him. It was the first time they had been alone since the day he had apologized, and it hadn’t taken him long to return to the old Travis who loved to fight. “It’s my job. It’s how I make a living and support our daughter.”
“And you’ve done a great job of it. Carly’s amazing, and I like what you’ve done with your house. You’ve got good taste.”
She glanced at him warily. “Thanks.”
“I remember when Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd lived here. They had let it go to pot, but you’ve really fixed it up. Doesn’t look like the same place.”
Maggie pushed her coffee mug away and folded her arms on the table. “What do you want, Travis?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you being so nice?”
“I’m just saying the house looks good. I’m impressed with what you’ve done with it, but then again, you always had great style.”
“Okay, fine, you want to pick a fight?” She stood up and grabbed her coffee cup. “I’m not in the mood this morning.”
“I’m not picking a fight.”
“The next thing you’re going to say is ‘how the hell did you pay for all this stuff?’ But I’m not taking the bait.”
“I’m not baiting you.”
“Yeah, right.” She stormed out of the kitchen, her heart racing as anger sizzled in her chest. Travis had switched tactics. Instead of throwing out his snarky one-liners, he was coming in with kindness just like last week. As soon as she dropped her guard, he’d hit her with a zinger. Well, she wasn’t going to give him the chance. No way was she going to sit there, waiting for him to insult her décor choices or how she spent her money or to throw out a comment about Buddy. He could sit alone in that kitchen and stew in his disappointment that she hadn’t stuck around to fight.
She slammed her bedroom door, stripped naked, and climbed into a raging hot shower. Scrubbing the washcloth over her skin like she’d been covered in grease, her breathing quick and shallow, Maggie struggled to understand what had just happened. He was nice to her last week when he apologized, and he’d made her coffee today. What was going on? The old Travis never had kind words for her. Maybe his brain had been rewired from the head injury. Could it be that he hadn’t tried to pick a fight this morning? Had she become so accustomed to their vicious banter that she couldn’t accept a sweet gesture from him? Something as simple as fixing her a cup of coffee had raised her hackles. Had Penny been right when she said she liked to argue with him?
Nope. No way. But she knew one thing for sure—Travis was obviously feeling better and able to get around on his own. For the remainder of his recuperation, they were stuck under the same roof and she didn’t want to argue with him. She would do her best to be nice until he was fully recovered. She would prove Penny wrong—their squabbles were not foreplay. That was a ridiculous notion. They fought because they didn’t get along. But Maggie would not fight with Travis, no matter what he threw at her, and she’d prove to everyone there was nothing more between them than shared parenting.
Later that day, with bright blue skies, a warm breeze, and the house all to herself, Maggie went out on her patio and spread a mountain of paperwork over the glass-top table. Brody had picked up Travis earlier for a doctor’s appointment, which gave her a few hours alone. She would rather catch a few rays and read a good book in this amazing weather but instead used the time to do something productive. At least she could pay bills, balance her personal checkbook, and review Carly’s scholarship package in the sun.
She still did things the old-school way by receiving bills and statements through the mail and filing the documents in a rickety cabinet handed down by her parents. It may be antiquated in today’s high-tech world, but it had always helped her keep a lid on spending. But she nearly blew her top when she ripped open the envelope and saw the balance on the pages-long credit card bill.
“Seven hundred and sixty-five dollars?” she bellowed to the trees. “What the—”
Her eyes scanned each entry, wracking her brain as to how it had happened that she’d exceeded her self-imposed three hundred dollar limit.
“This can’t be possible. How did I—”
“Hey, what’s going on out here?” Her head snapped up, and she found Travis standing in the side yard, leaning on crutches. “The front door was locked. I thought I heard you back here, so I came around.”
“You’re walking.”
“Yeah, just got these today.”
“But you were in a wheelchair this morning.”
“And now I’m not.”
“Where’s Brody?”
“On his way home.”
“That was a quick doctor’s appointment.” She jumped up to pull out a chair as he maneuvered toward the table. “You’re good on the crutches. Doesn’t it hurt your ribs?”
“Only every other second, but it’s okay.”
Once he was settled, she scurried around to her seat and pulled the scholarship information from the pile, handing it to him. “I was just about to do some paperwork, but it can wait. You should probably take a look at this. It’s Carly’s scholarships and the balance due to the university.”
“Okay.” Travis unfolded the papers from the envelope and quickly scanned the information. “Looks like she owes ten thousand by the end of July.”
“Yeah . . . about that.” She flipped the credit card bill over so that he wouldn’t see. The last thing she needed was to hear his comments about her spending habits. “I have a few bills that need paid, but I should be able to make my share by then.”
“Don’t worry about it. I got it.”
“Oh, no, we agreed we would share in her college costs. I’ll come up with five thousand dollars somehow.”
“If you don’t have it, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”
“And throw that in my face later? No way.”
He leaned back in his chair, keeping his smoky blue eyes narrowed on her. She knew he was thinking up a snarky comeback—something to rip a hole in her pride for not saving enough for Carly’s tuition. It wasn’t easy to raise a daughter alone, even with his generous child support.
“Mag, come on.”
“Don’t even start with me. I know I should’ve tightened my belt the last couple of years. I knew this day was coming. We promised Carly we would pay for college.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m only half owner of the bar. Not like you. You own your business outright so you get to keep all the profits.” She shoved away from the table, unable to take his steady gaze. “Penny and I did some remodeling at the bar so that ate up what would’ve come to me.” She shuffled through the bills on the table, her quivering hands making the papers rattle. “I’ve thought about selling Beautiful Blooms to Riley, but haven’t gotten around to it. The wedding kept me busy. And then you had your accident.”
He remained silent, staring up at her with a soft gaze. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t smirking. He actually looked concerned. What in the world was going on? His head injury must’ve joggled his brain cells. He should’ve said something mean by now.
“Do you need some money?”
That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say.
“No. I don’t want your money.”
“You seem a little stressed. I can take care of the tuition if it’s too much for you right now.”
“I’m always stressed.” She dropped the bills on the table, losing a few to the ground. “And you’re not helping.”
“What did I do?”
“You’re being too nice.” He chuckled as she shuffled the papers into a pile. “So I went a little overboard last month. My credit card bill is double—more than double—what it usually is.” She bent over and gathered the scattered sheets off the patio. “I’ll just have to make payments.”
“You could do that, but I’d be happy to—”
“Buddy will pay me back, and I’ll pay it off. He had a slow sales month, so I covered him. No big deal.”
She sorted the bills back into order, keeping her eyes locked on the task. This was Travis’s chance to say she’d been stupid to lend money to Buddy or help pay for their nights out at restaurants and movies or make his truck payment last month. The man needed wheels to do his job. They were getting married, for heaven’s sake.
“Say something.” Dropping the bills, she flattened her hands on the table and leaned toward Travis, still sitting silently.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Say what you’re really thinking. Say I shouldn’t have lent Buddy money, tell me he should remember his credit card when we eat out, tell me I shouldn’t have planned such an elaborate wedding. Tell me I messed up.”
“I’m not going to . . .”
Maggie flopped into her chair, all the energy gone from her body. “Some of the payroll checks bounced because of me.”
He leaned forward in his chair, his brows knitted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I flubbed a couple of deposits, which overdrew our account at the bar. I still don’t know how I did it. I thought for sure . . .” She picked up the pile of papers and tapped them on the table.
“That doesn’t sound like something you’d do.
“I’m not immune to making mistakes, you know. I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”
“I understand.”
“Penny left me to run the bar alone, and we were swamped both nights. Thank God Buddy was there to help me pour drinks.”
“Buddy worked with you?” Travis struggled to his feet and braced his hands on the table.
“What are you getting so worked up about? He helps us a lot. I work most evenings, so he hangs out at the bar, makes sure we get locked up and to our cars safely.” She folded her arms, daring him to make a snarky comment.
“I’m sure he’s a big help.” He eased himself back into the chair, rubbing his hand over his ribs.
“Now you’ve hurt yourself.”
“I’m okay.”
“Anyway, Penny talked to all the employees and she’s sure no one took the money. I just screwed up. I wasn’t being careful, wrote the wrong numbers down. It’s my fault the payroll checks were no good. I apologized to the servers it affected. It was stupid of me.”
“Maggie, stop.” He reached out and laid his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “You’re like a walking calculator. I’ve never met anyone with a more tightly controlled budget or a head for numbers.”
“Please don’t be nice to me.” Her eyes prickled. She could take his dagger-like gibes—well, sometimes—but not his tender concern. “Anything but that.”
“Let me help you.”
“No, I can handle this. Penny and I had money in savings to cover it. Everything’s okay now. I probably counted the deposit wrong.” She sniffled as she gathered her bills to her chest. “There’s been so much going on.” She blinked away unshed tears, pulling her shoulders back. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”