Put to her like that, Maggie applied herself to the task of choosing a wardrobe.
By the end of the afternoon, he had bought her everything from ranch clothing, purchased at a spendy Western-wear store, to day clothes and evening wear from elite women's apparel shops all over town.
When Maggie attempted to avoid the lingerie department in the last store they visited, he chuckled and steered her directly toward it. Her face went scalding hot when he began holding up lacy, scantily cut panties and
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bras, glancing at her as if he were trying to picture her wearing them. He also selected several sexy nightgowns and draped them over the sales counter. When he noted her worried expression, he waggled his eyebrows, winked, and then whispered, "I firmly believe in the power of positive thinking. "
Maggie laughed in spite of herself. ' 'Positive thinking?"
'Trust me, " he whispered. "I have no intention of making you wear any of this. Not anytime soon, anyway. You can stop looking so worried. "
"I'm not worried, " she popped back, a little amazed to realize she meant it. Rafe might contemplate making love to her, but she was coming to trust that he would never force her into anything until she was ready. It was such a wonderful feeling, knowing that.
During the following ten days while she finished the last round of medication, they slipped into a pattern, Rafe spending the giant's share of each day outdoors with Ryan, Maggie staying inside, caring for her son.
On most afternoons when twilight descended, Rafe came in from the stables, grabbed a quick shower and shaved, then spent the remainder of the night with her and Jaimie and Heidi.
On those evenings, Ryan often joined them for a casual dinner in the kitchen, which afforded Maggie an opportunity to become better acquainted with her brother-in-law, who proved to be a tease and as nice as her husband.
Afterward when Heidi and the baby were down for the night, Rafe always took Maggie for a long walk along the lakeshore, weather allowing. She had never seen anything so beautiful or fairy-tale perfect as the frozen lake and the snow-swept woodlands when all was bathed in moonlight. The windows of the house glowed lantern yellow through the stands of snow-laden fir and pine, the smell of wood smoke from the chimneys seasoned the mountain air, and when the wind blew in over
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the towering snowcapped peaks that hugged the basin, she likened the sound to angels whispering. The serenity of the setting soothed her, and she gradually came to see why Rafe loved the ranch so much.
During those walks along the lake, they sometimes talked or cavorted playfully in the snow, but at other times, they said little, merely sharing the night sounds of the wilderness. Either way, Maggie learned something new about her husband during each stroll. He was fiercely protective of her, often grasping her elbow or looping an arm around her shoulders to prevent her from slipping on the ice. He was also innately gentle, never forgetting his strength even when they horsed around.
On the three evenings during that time when they dined out alone, he treated her to candlelight dinners at what she called "dress-up restaurants" where the men were required to wear suits and the women wore cocktail dresses. On those occasions, Maggie was glad he had bought her beautiful clothing, for it was becoming more important to her with each passing day that her appearance should please him. She never wanted him to compare her to one of the other women they encountered and find her lacking.
The food served in these establishments was so fancy Maggie couldn't pronounce the names of half the dishes. Ashamed to admit ignorance, she bluffed her way through and frequently had no idea what she might be ordering. On one such occasion, Rafe's eyes filled with twinkling laughter when he saw the expression that crossed her face when she learned the appetizer she had ordered was snails. He came to her rescue by telling the waiter that he had ordered the escargot, not his wife. Maggie suspected that his trading dishes with her was a monumental sacrifice. He didn't appear to be overly fond of snails himself, But to save her embarrassment, he ate them.
After that when they visited a restaurant, he gave her obscure guidance by mulling over the menu selections
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aloud. Pinot Noir? A bit too dry. Tonight his palate called for a wine with just a touch more sweetness.
What cabernets did the house have on hand? he would ask the waiter.
Maggie realized exactly what Rafe was doing, but he carried it off so unobtrusively that she didn't feel humiliated. She became adept at surreptitiously watching every move he made. She draped her napkin over her lap when he did and soon learned by observation that the bowl containing water and a lemon wedge wasn't to drink and that the itty-bitty fork wasn't used for salad. The one time he glanced up and caught her emulating him, he winked and mouthed, "I
love you"
making her feel incredibly special when he might have belittled her instead.
It had been so long since a man had shown any concern at all about her feelings. Her father had, certainly, but many years had passed since his death and Maggie's memories of him had long since faded.
For seven endless years, Lonnie had polluted her life, day in and day out.
By comparison, Rafe was wonderful. From the beginning, he'd been unfailingly generous, giving her so very much. Yet he'd never demanded anything of her in return, except that she marry him, and on that count, Maggie absolved him, believing with all her heart that he'd done it to protect her. Now he was her lawful husband, with every right to possess her, and he held off.
Maggie couldn't explain it, but somehow, as one day passed into the next, being around him bolstered her confidence. Before meeting him, she'd felt inadequate. Maggie the nobody, an inconsequential little creature, squirming and ducking to avoid being squashed.
By contrast, Rafe made her feel smart, talented, and important. When she insisted that he familiarize her with the bookkeeping system and turn over the accounts to her, he marveled at how quickly she mastered the computer and became adept with the different software.
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When she compiled data from the last three fiscal years and developed flowcharts depicting profits and losses, he didn't simply pat her on the head and say,
Good job.
He spent an entire afternoon and evening in the office with Ryan, poring over the information and frequently calling upon her to explain some of the variances, concluding in the end that operational changes were indicated that might substantially increase their annual profits. Maggie could scarcely believe her ears. These intelligent, highly successful men were about to change the way they'd been doing things for years, simply because she had suggested they should?
"You're amazing, Maggie, " both men said more than once, and the respect she saw in their eyes told her that they meant it. "You've literally saved us thousands of dollars, just in crop rotation alone. "
Having come from a male-dominated household where she was slapped for speaking her mind and told she was stupid more times than not, Maggie loved all the praise, but more importantly, she felt her efforts were a worthwhile contribution which, by extension, made her feel worthwhile herself. One evening Rafe asked her if they should consider making cash outlays to begin replacing some of the ranch equipment. After looking into the matter and charting the cost of seasonal equipment repairs versus the possible purchase costs, Maggie recommended that they buy a new tractor and Cat, whereupon Rafe immediately got on the phone to do some price comparisons. As she became more familiar with the ranch's accounts, she also determined there might be some large tax breaks if they incorporated, and Rafe called a tax lawyer to discuss the possibility.
For the first time in her adult life, Maggie felt important, and the timidity that had been beaten into her began to fall away, to be replaced by self-assurance. She
wasn't
stupid. Rafe believed in her and because he did, she began to believe in herself. He called her "our computer guru, " and while on the phone with the tax attorney,
260 CATHERINE ANDERSON
she heard him say, "The ranch manager says we could save substantial amounts by incorporating. "
The
ranch manager.
She suddenly had a title, and by bestowing it upon her, Rafe was giving her credit she'd never expected to receive. One evening he laughingly said, "Rye and I are the muscle in this operation, and Maggie's the brains. "
The brains.
She walked a little taller after hearing him say that.
He went out of his way to make her feel incredibly special in other ways as well. If she yearned aloud for chocolate, the next thing she knew, a box of chocolates appeared on the nightstand. When she mentioned how much she loved lemonade, a pitcherful magically appeared in the refrigerator. He spoiled her shamelessly, and though unaccustomed to the attention, she enjoyed every single thoughtful gesture.
Each night when he joined her in bed and took her into his arms, Maggie could feel the throbbing hardness of his manhood pressed against her and she'd think,
This is it. My reprieve is over. He'll force
the issue this time.
Only he never did, and because he didn't, she slowly came to realize that he placed more importance on her feelings and needs than he did on his own.
As Maggie came to that realization, what she had previously believed was impossible began to happen.
She found herself falling in love with him. No longer did she lie awake in his arms, sick with dread. Instead she found herself wondering what it might be like to make love with him. She enjoyed the way his hands felt when he touched her, so big and hard and warm, yet always so gentle. And she longed to touch him in return—to trail her fingertips over the play of muscle in his back, to mold her palms to the firm contours of his chest, to test the resilient bulges of strength in his shoulders.
Sometimes, after she felt certain he was asleep, she satisfied her curiosity, tracing his features with her fingertips and running her hands lightly over his arms. Touching him made her pulse quicken and filled her
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with a yearning to move closer. As a young girl, she'd dreamed of one day meeting Mr. Right, someone tall, dark, and handsome who was gentle, sweet, and wonderfully romantic. Rafe Kendrick met or exceeded all her requirements. He was definitely tall, and except for his smoke-blue eyes, he was about as dark as a man could get with his bronze skin and jet-black hair. As for being handsome? He was no pretty boy, certainly, but there was something about the chiseled planes of his dusky face that made her insides flutter. He was also, hands down, the kindest and most thoughtful man she'd ever known.
Love.
She would catch herself watching him, terrified by the feelings she was developing for him but unable to stop herself. Those feelings gave rise to a paralyzing new fear, that of losing him.
And there were things about her that Rafe didn't know—things so shameful she had never admitted them to anyone. She felt certain that when he learned of them, he'd turn away from her.
It was awful of her, she knew, but she entertained the idea of simply never telling him the truth. She could invent a fictitious father for Jaimie easily enough.
Such was her desperation that she might have chosen that route had it not been for her fear that Rafe might discover her duplicity later. Someday he might glance at Jaimie and note some small resemblance he bore to his real father. Or Lonnie might barge back into her life and spill the beans. Either way, Rafe could discover her secret and hate her for deceiving him.
Honesty.
All Maggie's life she'd been told it was always best never to lie. But how could the truth be best in this instance? As things stood, Rafe held her in high regard.
Dear God, you are so sweet,
he often whispered to her at night. Well, he would no longer suffer from that illusion if she blurted out the truth.
Around and around Maggie went, ceaselessly circling the dilemma, her instinct for self-preservation tempting
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her to keep her secret, her sense of fairness filling her with guilt for even considering it.
Having reached that decision, Maggie found herself haggling over
when
she would tell him. That night after dinner, she would promise herself. Only when the time came, Ryan was there or Jaimie cried and needed attention, or Heidi needed help with her math, providing Maggie with a convenient excuse to put off the inevitable.
On the Tuesday right before Thanksgiving, she was finished taking the last of the antibiotics, and Rafe once again took her to see Dr. Kirsch, who gave her a clean bill of health. After leaving the clinic, Rafe insisted they mark the occasion this time by shopping for Jaimie.
They visited several infant stores where Maggie agonized over the prices of cribs, hesitating to make a choice because they were all so expensive. As they wandered through the last shop, she leaned closer to Rafe so as not to be overheard and whispered, "Don't they have any less expensive baby shops in town?
All of these prices are absurd. "
His gaze sharpened on hers. "Less expensive? Don't tell me that's why you've dragged me to five different stores, because you're looking for a bargain. "
"All right. I won't tell you that. "
He glanced around them. "That cuts it. " He checked his watch. "You have five minutes to make a choice between natural or dark oak, two-toned or single-tone When the five minutes are up, I'm buying a shitload of baby furniture. I strongly advise you tell me what your preferences are before then because you're going to be stuck with what I choose if you don't. "
Maggie already knew which of the cribs she loved. But it cost over a
thousand
dollars. If she wound up having to pay him back for everything, she had to keep an eye on the total debt, and a thousand bucks seemed an outlandish price to pay for a baby bed. There were surely nice ones for far less.,
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