Betting on Hope (20 page)
Somewhere in the back of her mind, alarms were clanging, but Maggie had honestly never felt this before. He shifted slightly, his hand coming to her hair, wrapping around the nape of her neck. The sensation sent shivers racing through her, causing her stomach to tremble. Their hearts beat together. At least his was pounding as hard as hers, and then the endless moments passed and with shadows crossing his beautiful eyes, he dipped his head and his lips moved to hers.
Maggie wilted at the contact. His hand dug into her hair, and his lips, warm and firm, moved across hers, sending more shivers of emotions rioting through her. It was like a starburst exploding over a calm lake, and there was no denying that she’d never experienced anything remotely like this before.
She slanted her mouth, wanting more, needing more. Her arms tightened around his shoulders and her fingers tangled in the short thickness of his hair.
This, was . . .
wrong.
She ignored the warning.
Then Tru pulled back, looking as dazed as she felt. Her lips felt swollen and lovely. He kissed her again, slow and gentle this time.
Then he pulled back, set her on her feet, and moved away from her.
“That,” he raked a hand through his hair, “was a mistake.”
Maggie couldn’t move. Could barely think.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” he repeated. Reaching down, he swept his hat from the ground, raked his wavy dark locks off his forehead, and settled the hat back in place. Just like he did his emotions.
Maggie was breathing hard as she stared at him. Still stunned by everything that had just happened. It wasn’t as though she had a lot of experience in a situation like this. She’d only been kissed a handful of times in her life. Maggie was innocent where emotions and experience collided. He, on the other hand, was not.
“You’re right.” The words came out as weak as she felt. She gave herself a hard mental shake and said stronger, “Thank you for stepping in just now. I always have had my klutzy moments. Maybe we should go back now.” She would not cry. She would hold up her head and she would not let him see how deeply that kiss had affected her.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
He didn’t look at her as he took the reins of his horse and handed her Stardust’s.
“That won’t happen again,” he said and anger flared deep inside her. As much at her foolheartedness as his callousness.
She kept her temper intact and said nothing.
What was there to say?
“What’s got you all stirred up?” Bo asked on Sunday afternoon.
“I’m not stirred up,” Tru grunted.
Nothing except that I’m an
idiot
. That was about it.
Bo looked slightly bored with his brevity. “Yeah, so I’m supposed to believe that you’re not mad about something. I was at church this morning. I saw you. You did more grunting than talking, like you’re doing now. And you didn’t stay for ‘Happy Trails.’ You love that song, and don’t think I don’t know it. You sing along with the kids every Sunday.”
Crazy brother. They went to the Cowboy Church of Wishing Springs, and the kids singing “Happy Trails” at the front of the sanctuary was the last thing they did before they broke for lunch. And Bo was absolutely right, Tru enjoyed watching the little toddlers and kids singing the song, but today he hadn’t stuck around.
His conscience had been bothering him plenty. Tru had failed and failed miserably where Maggie was concerned.
Why had he kissed her? They’d barely gotten this two-month gig going and he was already kissing her. What happened to not acting on the attraction? What happened to not being tabloid fodder again?
What had come over him? He’d acted like a real jerk leaving her to ride down that ravine alone when he knew she didn’t trust herself. He’d known she could do it. He’d trusted Stardust to get her down safe. But still that was no excuse.
And then to haul off and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
He was a real class act. Yeah, a real dirtbag was more like it.
And then the look in her eyes when he’d pulled back from the kiss. She’d been as stunned and dazed as he’d been. What was going on between them was powerful, but now was not the time to explore it.
Not if he wanted to keep Maggie from starring on the front cover of tabloids across America. Hopefully he was wrong, but he worried that after the TV special, there would be at least a few people with cameras snooping, hoping for some cheap shots that could make them some money. And if they had any kind of relationship it would only make the chances of that happening more certain.
Nope, this wasn’t happening.
Truth was, he’d seen the pride in her eyes when she’d rounded that bend in the creek bottom and known she’d made it down that slope on her own. He’d been so proud of her, but more
for
her.
And, yes, he’d been mad that she’d believed that junk about him—despite the fact that he deserved her scorn.
If she’d just gotten off the blamed horse without mishap, things would have been fine.
But she hadn’t. And once he had her in his arms, well, it hadn’t been his brain that took over. It had been his emotions and the purely male drive inside of him that sidestepped everything he knew was right and took over.
The fact that she’d kissed him back had only thrown fuel to the fire.
Her eagerness had undone him for a minute—the warm, sweet response of her mouth on his. Thinking about it now had his hands shaking as he reached for a sack of feed.
It was as if their lips had been made to fit perfectly and the—he shook his head and forced the sweet memory away.
“Is this about Maggie?”
Tru yanked up the sack of feed to his shoulder and carried it from the feed room to the back of his truck. “Why would you say that?”
Bo walked over to the tailgate and tossed his load into the back of the truck, staring at him. “Because you’ve been acting different ever since this bet thing started up. And she was there. Clara Lyn and Reba were introducing her to everyone. I saw you sidestepping to miss her. That is not like you.”
“Look, Bo. I’ve got my reasons.”
“That just doesn’t make sense. You’re giving her riding lessons every day but Sunday, and she’s living about a half a mile down the road. So why you’re avoiding her at church is a little suspicious. I mean, I know I’m just your brother, and I’ve only known you all my life, so this kinda throws up the red flags. You know what I’m sayin’.”
Tru shifted his weight from one boot to the other and studied the horizon hard. Finally he said, “You want to know? Here it is—I hauled off and kissed the woman yesterday.”
Bo grinned. “So what’s wrong with that? She’s a beaut, and I’m not talking about a car. Sure there’s that whole I’m-gonna-put-you-in-the-funny-papers thing going on here, but, hey,” he said, hiking a dark brow. “She’s single. You’re single—and getting older by the minute, I might point out. We’ve got kids to produce, and big brother is kinda failin’ us on that end. I’m trailing y’all by a couple of years, so I’ve got leeway. But you, my man, have got no excuses. Go for it.”
Tru scowled. “Would you cut it out?”
Bo laughed. “What is wrong with kissing a beautiful woman? And since when did you ever have a problem with that?” Bo suddenly stopped smiling. “You really have feelings for her.” It wasn’t a question.
Tru stared at his brother as the truth hit him hard—since he’d met Maggie he’d realized that he could very easily lose his heart to her. And knowing that meant there was no way he was doing anything right now to mess up her life. Him being in her life right now wouldn’t be a good thing. It was the math, and she knew it.
On Sunday night Maggie stared at her computer trying to concentrate on her job. The letter jumping out at her tonight was from a woman who had just broken up with her boyfriend—who had repeatedly dropped her—and now after finally walking away from the guy, the letter writer wasn’t sure if she could live without him. She was asking Maggie if she should try and get him back. It was signed Second Thoughts and Confused.
“Isn’t that a fine kettle of fish? Confused—excuse me!” Maggie frowned at the computer.
It wasn’t fine at all
. What was it with women who thought that their happiness depended on some guy who could treat them badly then just drop them whenever the moment struck? Where was the hope in that? It was an endless loop that didn’t favor the female at all.
Maggie stood and walked to the window of the cabin. Men. She didn’t understand them. At all.
She’d spent most of her life avoiding relationships with them, and yet she gave advice—and
hope
—on the subject.
The disturbing idea that she was a fraud rattled through her. A fraud.
And someone out there knew it.
She pushed the thought away. The person who’d written that threatening letter had given her nothing to go on. All she could do was wait and see when the next letter showed up. What did they want?
The weight on her shoulders felt too heavy to bear. Maggie felt weary suddenly. Rubbing her temple, she closed her eyes and knew right now she couldn’t answer Second Thoughts’s letter. She didn’t really know anything about what she was trying to give hope to women about. Nothing. And yesterday with Tru proved it unequivocally.
What was she supposed to really tell that woman? Could she give that poor woman hope when she didn’t know what to do with her own life?
Like what was she supposed to do about Tru?
Stay away from him, that’s what.
That wasn’t an option though. That kiss had happened over twenty-four hours ago and she could still feel it.
How could something that had sent her heart soaring have been a mistake?
She’d seen him at church and he’d been careful not to be on the same side of the church with her. And he’d left early. Obviously it remained a big mistake to him.
It was truly aggravating, but why hadn’t she expected him to act that way? He hadn’t spoken the whole ride home after the kiss, so why did she expect more today?
Nope, the man had led the way out of the ravine and straight to the stable with her trailing him.
But once there, she’d dismounted before he had—this time without incident—and led Stardust to her stall. They’d each taken the saddles off their horses and brushed them down, and that done, she’d left the stable and not looked back. He had tried to say something, but she’d told him to save his breath. That he’d been right—the kiss should never have happened.
The tension had been unbelievably thick.
The lonesome cry of the pack of coyotes echoed outside the window. On first arrival she would have been frightened by the sound. Tonight she empathized with the soul-wrenching sound. She still didn’t like it though.
It was time to try to go to bed. She double checked that the doors were all locked—as if the coyotes were going to come and open the doors with their teeth. Feeling ridiculously low, she went to her bedroom hoping sleep would help her see things in a better light tomorrow.
Wearing her oversize pajama bottoms and her pink tank top, she crawled into bed and cuddled up with her pillow. At the rate she was going, it was probably all she’d ever have to cuddle up with.
Oh, how she wished she was back home in Houston working in her cozy apartment where the wildest animal noises were the occasional bark from her neighbor’s Toy Poodle. Where she didn’t get bit by oversize Basset Hounds. Where she went to see regular doctors and not vets. Where her face wasn’t plastered across the morning show, making it possible for her past to creep up and kick her in the back.
And where the men, well, they kept their distance. That was a whole lot more appealing than a man who kissed her till her head spun and her heart turned over. Only to have him declare what a mistake it was.
Hope. What did she know about hope? Other than it was a name she’d applied for to cover up her bad history.
Maggie would not be mortified, or even the least bit embarrassed. She got out of her car the next morning and pulled her shoulders back while giving herself the pep talk. What was behind was behind and today was a new day.
She stalked into the barn with her head held high. She was here for the riding.
Actually, she was here to keep her job.
And Tru was here to teach her to ride.
There would be no more kissing. Not that he would want to, but she didn’t want to either. She was no wimpy little woman to be toyed with. She gave good, strong advice that helped other women who were feeling both wimpy and walked over. She had plenty of letters from women who told her how much her column helped them.
Yes, it had taken her a long, sleepless night to pull on her big girl pants and stop feeling sorry for herself, but she had done it. No more kissing. It just messed up a girl’s head. Blocked her good sense and wreaked havoc on an otherwise workable plan.
Whether he won or she won the bet wasn’t really the issue. The issue was that she keep her job.
That she keep “Gotta Have Hope” alive. And that meant she had to keep her readership happy and interested. And she had to figure out who sent the letter. Could it have been Shane? Later, after her lesson, she was going to make some phone calls. It was time to find out if certain people had gotten out of prison.