Maggie’s head felt like a basketball. No, make that a watermelon. Her stomach wasn’t much better off. They’d gone back to Sean’s house and stayed up talking like old friends. She’d found a bottle of bourbon stashed in the kitchen and they celebrated Tom’s safe return. Tom hadn’t had anything to drink because of his head and his meds, but that didn’t stop her from imbibing.
Despite his sling, Tom insisted on going to work in the morning. And she insisted that if he did, it would be in her car, not on the Harley because she didn’t trust him to drive and she couldn’t have survived the loud noise created by the Harley engine.
When they reached Harry’s Place it was totally silent. Tom checked the beer fridges while Maggie refilled the pop cooler, and still not a sound, except for the distant rumble of the cook’s muffled curses.
“Where is everybody? I expected to see Harry in here counting his money. Or lack of it. I can’t wait until he pays you what he owes you. Half of last night's take should be a tidy sum,” Maggie said.
“Are we talking about money this morning?” Harry asked, coming through the saloon doors from the back entrance.
Maggie turned, ready to go on the defensive. When she saw the look on Harry’s face she stopped. “What happened to you?”
“Love, that’s what happened.” Harry did a little jig around the bar area. He came to a stop in front of Maggie, and his fingers did a playful tap on the wooden counter.
Visions of men in white, carrying wrap-around jackets popped into her head. She noticed Harry’s flushed face, his eyes that actually twinkled. Something about sex-junky Harry didn’t fit. “Love?”
“Yes, I’m in love.”
Maggie could feel Tom standing behind her, his sling resting on the bar, as she braced for bad news. “You and Jolene?”
“Hell, no. Jolene’s long gone.” Harry patted the tuft of hair plastered to his bald spot. “I didn’t realize how tired I was of all those young ladies. What am I saying? There wasn’t a lady among them. And I was no gentleman.”
Had someone put something in the water? Had Harry found religion?
And why was Harry telling her, the person with the least desire to know? She glanced at Tom, but he looked as dumbfounded as she was.
“Do you want to be a gentleman?” she asked Harry.
“I want to be more than that. I want to turn my life around. I’ve found someone very special.”
Maggie moved closer for a better look. “You found someone. Have we met her?”
“No. I was cleaning up after the bull ride last night, when a woman came up to me. At first I didn’t recognize her. She said hello, and asked me to buy her a drink. We started talking and it turned out to be Francine Doherty from my high school days. She had a crush on me back then, but I didn’t know about it. I loved her the first time I saw her, but I figured I wasn’t good enough for someone as classy as Francine. Funny how things can become so complicated, and to think we missed out on all those years when we could have been together. Not that I regret my marriage to Annabelle, but all the same, it is great to connect with Francine again.”
First there was Tom who shared his past and his future plans with her last night. Now Harry was confiding in her. Maggie didn’t know how many more surprises she could handle. “That’s nice. Go on.”
“We spent the night together. We’re in love and I’m moving to Danbury.”
“You’re what?” Tom asked, the surprise in Tom’s voice reassuring.
“Yeah. Francine owns a craft store, and she wants me to move there and help her run it. I couldn’t be happier.” Harry beamed.
“We’re happy for you,” Tom said, “but what happens to Harry’s Place?”
“I’m willing to sell my half to the two of you.”
Dumfounded, Maggie considered what that might mean. The place had a steady clientele, a good location, and with a little work it could be a good business to own. And hadn’t she already put her inheritance into it? All for the wrong reasons in the beginning, but after working here, she had to admit that Harry’s Place had potential.
“What about Sean?” Tom countered.
“What about him? He’s gone off, leaving me to manage the place. I don’t want him to own my share of the business. He’d run the place into the ground.”
“But doesn’t Sean have to agree to you selling your half?” Maggie asked.
“No. That part of the agreement was to help Sean.” Harry rubbed his jaw. “Back when Sean recognized that he had a gambling habit. He didn’t want to be caught in gambling fever and be able to put his half of the business into the pot, so to speak.”
Tom and Maggie looked at one another, then at Harry. “So you can sell us your half, free and clear?”
“I can, but I want to do it soon.”
“Can we get back to you?” Tom asked.
“Sure, but don’t take too long. Francine’s leaving for Danbury in two days, and she’s not leaving without me.”
Maggie and Tom stared in shock as Harry broke into song, something about a four-leaf clover and overlooking someone.
“Well, what do you know? Harry’s in love and ready to move on,” Tom said, his mind rooting through the possibilities.
“And ready to sell Harry’s Place.” Maggie pulled her wig down farther over her ears and adjusted the two blobs of fake curls lying along her cheek. “What do you think we should do?”
“If we had the money, or could raise the money, it might be something to consider. There’s a good opportunity here for someone willing to work hard.”
“I agree. All it needs is someone who has money and determination. We’d have to get Sean––”
“I’m beginning to think that Sean isn’t coming back.” Tom rubbed his jaw in frustration.
“What do you mean? Did he call you?”
“No, but we need to find out what he’s done with our money, so we can make plans.”
“You’re right. Maybe Harry will come clean now. I’m sure he knows where Sean is, regardless of what he says. I’d like to work out a deal with Sean,” Maggie said, tapping her fingers on the counter as she eyed Tom.
Tom saw the anxiety in Maggie’s eyes as well as the insecurity behind her words. She wasn’t nearly as sure as she pretended to be. He could relate to that. “Easy, Maggie. We need to consider our options. If we can come up with the money, and buy Harry out, we’ll have controlling interest.”
“How do you know so much about all this?”
“I listen to people when they’re talking business.”
“We could be quite a team, if we tried,” Maggie said, her smile wavering.
“Maggie, we talked about this last night––”
“I know. In a couple of days you’ll be gone, right?” Defiance filled Maggie’s eyes.
Yet, something about the way her head tilted when she asked the question told Tom that the answer mattered. A few days ago, he would have flattered her, strung her along for a while before telling her the truth about his intention to leave regardless of how she felt or how good an opportunity Harry’s Place might be. But seeing her like this, knowing how much she wanted to prove her worth to her father, he couldn’t give her any reason to think he’d be part of her plans. “You’d like to own this business, and it’s a great opportunity. I’ll do what I can to make things work out for you.”
“Except stay.” There was a sorrowful tone in Maggie’s voice that Tom had never heard before.
He had to make Maggie understand that he couldn’t stay here. He’d come to get his money from Sean. Money that would help him start a new life. Until he had his life in order, his business up and running, Tom wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship. “I can’t stay.”
“Coward.” Maggie turned away giving her full attention to the napkin holder she’d been filling.
Tom flexed his fingers under the sling as he considered his answer. “Maggie I know my limitations.”
“Whatever. Here’s hoping your son can get used to the revolving mommies in his life.”
Tom scowled. “That’s a pretty low blow. What do you think I am?”
“A man like you who enjoys a healthy sex life would have to be very discreet.” Her glance flicked over him. "Just how long will it be before you have to explain to Robin why there are different women coming and going in the house?"
What had gotten into her? She had to know how mean and intrusive her words were. “Maggie, you don’t have to worry about me or about Robin. He has a good mother, and a good father. We both want what’s best for him. I’ll keep my private life private.”
She turned to face him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Believe me, I know.”
Was that a tear glistening on her cheek?
“You’re being unfair, Maggie.”
“I call it the way I see it,” Maggie said as she turned back to the tray she was filling with the over-stuffed napkin holders.
Tom watched her turn away with the loaded tray, her head high.
"If I were the marrying kind––"
"You'd marry me, right?" She tried for a grin as she tossed the words over her shoulder and made her way between the tables.
"Yeah..." What was he saying… Tom had to shake himself free of the home and hearth notions simmering in the back of his mind...thoughts of Maggie and him curled up together while their children slept in matching twin beds across the hall.
Yeah, right!
Living with Maggie would mean having to trust her with every part of his life. He had never trusted any woman completely. Not since the day he turned sixteen and his mother told him to get out and earn a living. "Smarten up," he muttered to himself, turning his attention to Sean and how to find him.
Maggie’s knees shook as she made her way across the room toward the fireplace. She had seen the look in Tom’s eyes, a look she’d seen before. Mac's eyes had held the same look when he beat a hasty retreat from their marriage.
Like him, Tom would walk out of her life without a backward glance, without so much as a decent good-bye. There would be no more friendly banter, no red-hot sex, only her deep-seated need to say anything, promise anything to make him stay. A pain rose in her chest, so sharp and hard it took her breath away.
Fighting to ignore it, she plunked the tray down on one of the tables and set about methodically putting a napkin holder on each table. Life was repeating itself. Like some b-rated movie, she'd trusted someone again, and they had let her down. But this time there had been no promises, no vows. So why did this hurt more?
Maggie had no idea why she kept repeating the pattern, but until she changed her ways, she would always be vulnerable to some man with a great body and a careless heart. She was past due for a change, starting with Tom Rawlins. She’d show him. She’d get this business, not only to prove her abilities to her father, but to make Tom wish he’d stuck around.
She sneaked a peek in Tom's direction. He was leaning against the bar watching her. His shirt was open at the neck, displaying the gold chain and ‘spoil me’ charm he always wore. Maggie's fingers twitched at the memory of how it felt to weave her fingers through his hair, to stroke his skin while she watched arousal play across his face. A tingle started somewhere south of her belly button as their gazes locked. Even in the muted light of the restaurant, Maggie could feel the electricity crackling between them.
It was as if he were memorizing her face, her hair, her whole body. Maggie closed her eyes for just a moment and drank in the feeling his gaze summoned. Her nipples hardened and she ached for his touch.
But there would be no more of Tom’s touches. In a few short days Tom Rawlins would be a memory. A wonderful, bittersweet memory.
There was that pain again—just beneath her ribcage. It had to be indigestion. Tom might be the single most gorgeous man to walk into her life, but he was also about to be the single most gorgeous man to walk out.
Why him, and why now? She couldn’t really have deep feelings for Tom, beyond attraction. She just liked him. What woman wouldn’t?
Face it. You’re under the influence of lust.
She knew better than any woman that lust was powerful, overpowering, all consuming, and capable of creating havoc in her life––especially when the object of her lust was about to leave. What she was feeling had to be some kind of early withdrawal.
Had to be.
She couldn’t ask him to stay because of her desire and she had no defense against her pain if he turned her down. Could she offer him a business arrangement, something he couldn’t resist? He said he’d help her, and having him involved in a business with her would mean she would have someone whose business acumen she could trust. Or was she simply looking for a way to keep him in her life?
Was she that desperate?
Somehow, her shaking legs made it back to the bar where she braced herself against its polished edge. “Tom, what would you think of us forming a partnership? We could both own the business. I’d be managing partner. I’d do the books, and get your advice on any necessary changes or additions to the business. You could run your bike shop somewhere here in town. What do you think?”
Tom wouldn’t look at her. What did that mean? As she waited for and agonized over his possible answers, hope bubbled up in her at the crazy thought that some part of Tom could remain in her life, still be part of her dream.
“It’s a great offer, Maggie. But I’d have to think about it.” His eyes were dark pools of resolve, mingled with regret. "Whatever we decide to do, I promise to help you any way I can."
Maggie felt suddenly weak, unable to cope. "You've already said that."
"And I mean it. I want you to be happy in your life. We've had a great time, and I'll never forget you."
If that wasn’t a swan song she didn’t have red hair. Maggie couldn’t look at him, and witness the apology in his eyes as he rejected her offer. Determined to salvage her pride, she concentrated on staring at the antlers over the fireplace. He couldn't be allowed to see how much she wanted him to stay. It was very clear that Tom’s heart and mind were in Boston with his son and his bike shop venture. "So, it's thanks-for-the-memories time, is that it? You're out of here?"
Tom grimaced. "Don't do this."
She saw Tom's statement for what it was. The conversation was as far as he was concerned. But knowing the pain that lay ahead for her, Maggie couldn't let him leave without trying one last time to change his mind. "You’re overlooking a great business opportunity in your rush to get out of here."
"Maggie, I told you before. I made a promise. I have a son who needs me..." His voice held a hint of exasperation.
Maggie quietly gathered the hurt clinging to her heart to the pain tucked deep inside her. There was nothing she could do, no argument she could make that would win against Tom’s need to be with his son—and his need for freedom. She understood that. She couldn’t blame him, admired his choice actually, but it did nothing to ease the hollow feeling creeping around inside her. “Well, I guess that’s it,” she said.
Tom’s gaze moved past her, a look of surprise on his face. “Not quite. I believe the lost has been found.”