Heat Wave (Riders Up) (10 page)

She reached a hand
to her cheek, trying to still its jumping. “I don’t want to be rude, but I
think you found what you needed to know. Best you be getting on with your day. I’ve
got plenty of work to do.”

Disbelief etched
across his face. “But…”

“Don’t think there
are any more buts,” Ed offered as he strolled easily out of the barn with a
pitchfork in his hand. “Sounds like the lady’s made up her mind. And I can assure
you she doesn’t change her mind easily.”

“Who the hell are
you?” Fallon retreated a step.

Maggie swallowed a
giggle—the vice-president’s take charge attitude had slipped a little. He hadn’t
expected running into a man like the one threatening him with a pitchfork. Probably
neither Fallon nor Prater knew about Ed yet—well, they sure knew now.

This was a new Ed,
relaxed on the outside but coiled on the inside, ready for whatever happened
next. She wasn’t positive she liked being protected in this way, but this wasn’t
the time for that discussion.

“Name’s Harrington.
Just happen to be here.” Ed spat within inches of Fallon’s shiny black
wing-tips. “Thought you were leaving.”

“I’m out of here.” Glowering
at Maggie, Fallon declared, “But this isn’t the end, Ms. Anderson. You can
count on that. I’ll have this land yet. Everyone has a price. Don’t stretch
yourself too thin, you might just snap. You better hope we get some rain soon,
or your crops will dry up before you can name an asking price.”

Annoyed, Maggie
watched the Con-Ex Farms van tires spin in Fallon’s rush to leave. “So, what do
you suppose he meant by that? Not stretching too thin.”

“Does this place
have a mortgage on it?” Ed lean heavily against the pitchfork, his gaze focused
on the disappearing van.

“Not much, given
what it’s worth.”

“Can you pay it off?
That’s what matters.”

“I could. It would
eat into what I could invest in the stables, but it wouldn’t be a severe dent. The
mortgage is less than thirty-five thousand. It’s a loan left over from when
Mason wanted to start a trucking business. That didn’t work out too well.”

Ed gritted his
teeth. “I don’t want to know how much you have in reserve, but getting the
mortgage paid off seems timely. Sounds like the suit who just scurried back to
town is in cahoots with the local banker. If it was me, I’d pay the loan off,
even if I had to cut back on the horses. You don’t need anybody having that
kind of leverage on you. Makes you too vulnerable.”

“I agree, but
Fallon’s right too.” Maggie picked up a handful of dry dirt and let the powder
fall between her fingers. “If we don’t get rain fairly soon, we could be in
deep trouble. A lot of money is going out. I might have to borrow against the
land or the horses to make it through to next spring’s planting. Or maybe put
off buying the broodmares.”

Ed fixed his gaze
on her.

She knew he was
trying to determine how long she could and would stick to the plan for the
stables. She didn’t like the fact that he doubted her courage.

“In the long run,
the broodmares will likely be your cheapest investment,” he said, without censure.
“They can help you make a profit without depending on the luck of the track. But
that will take time.”

Maggie watched the
man remove his dusty ball cap and run his finger nervously through his hair. He
wasn’t speaking his mind. Ed was clearly on edge about her financial situation.
She couldn’t blame him, she was too. And he did have a lot riding on her being
able to make it.

“I never advise
anyone to borrow against their horses,” he said. “That’s too damn risky. The
value of a horse is only one race or one bad step away from plummeting.”

“Can’t that value
also go up?”

“That doesn’t seem
to happen as often.” Ed fell silent.

Maggie watched a
hopeful robin tap the ground with its beak, trying to entice a worm to rise. Maybe
it was too dry for a worm. Yet, shortly the bird was pulling on a long worm,
extricating it from its home.

“Think I’ll run
into town this afternoon and pay that mortgage off. If I have to borrow later
in the year, it will be from a different bank. Prater doesn’t know I have the
bulk of my husband’s insurance money in the Walker bank.”

She noticed Ed
flinched at the word
husband.
No matter, that was his problem. If he
wanted to be hung up on the fact that she had been married and was the mother
of two children, she couldn’t do much about it.

“Maybe I should
make a deposit in a Des Moines bank and pay the loan off without exposing the
existence of the Walker account.”

Grinning, Ed
drawled, “You hang around me long enough and you’ll become a suspicious person,
Ms. Anderson. But I do believe that’s an excellent idea. Devious, but superb.”

Maggie curtsied
gracefully, returning his smile. “Well, I am pleased that I please you, Mr.
Harrington. Sometimes I wonder.”

“It doesn’t take
much to please me,” Ed said, looking down at her. “It’s you I worry about.”

Ed sauntered back
to his work without waiting for a reply, leaving Maggie sputtering to herself. Pleased!
He’d pleased her immensely. Why the hell couldn’t he see that? Why wouldn’t he
let her please him?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Color drained from
the teller’s face when she saw the amount of Maggie’s cashier’s check. “It’ll
take me a little bit to pull together the necessary paper work. Would you like
to take a seat over there?”

Maggie nodded at
the mousy haired woman with the honey sweet voice. She knew what was coming
next. She’d prepared herself against the forthcoming onslaught. She hardly had
time to settle on the slippery vinyl chair before Josh Prater stormed out of
his office looking for her. Spying her, his eyebrows arched and he made his way
quickly across the foyer.

“Maggie, you don’t
have to do this. We want your business. You don’t have to borrow from another
bank to pay us off.” He scowled. “I know Mr. Fallon was out to your place. He
told me how rude you were to him.”

“Rude. Rude? Me?” Maggie
pounced off the chair and Prater took two steps back. “You tell Mr. Fallon if
he wants to see rude, just come back without an invitation.”

Maggie thought
Prater was going to burst. His face looked as red as a vine ripened tomato.

“You sure are a
chip of the old block. Your father thought he was bigger than his britches,
too. Didn’t get him far.” Glaring down at her, he stood ramrod straight and
hissed, “You’ll get your comeuppance, young lady, just wait and see.”

Maggie glared at
the back of the banker practically dashing toward his office. The slamming of
his office door echoed across the lobby. Tellers who had been discreetly
observing the scene quickly found something else to do.

“I’m ready for you,
Ms. Anderson,” the teller handling her transaction said.

With a flourish,
Maggie signed all the necessary papers. Seething, she walked through the bank
foyer, hurrying for some fresh air. She’d never thought her dad had an enemy in
the world. Sometimes she could be naïve, though. She groaned. It wasn’t
difficult at all to imagine Ed Harrington agreeing with her about that.

As she stepped out
onto the sidewalk, Maggie glanced skyward. Hardly a cloud could be seen. Worry
lines strained many of the faces she saw in town. It was mid June already, and tender
new crops were starting to wilt. If they didn’t get rain soon, they’d all be in
trouble. Of course the bank and Con-Ex Farms were big enough to ride out even
weather difficulties. They’d be major beneficiaries of a prolonged drought.

“So how’s life treating
you, Maggie?

Maggie turned to
greet Ben Templeton with a wisp of a smile. “Just made the banker unhappy by
paying off a loan. I’m surviving. How about you?”

“I’m doing fine. Join
me for a glass of cold lemonade in my outer office?”

“Sarah is going to
start charging you rent one of these days,” Maggie replied, allowing herself to
be guided toward Sarah’s diner.

After Flo Zimmerman
set two tall glasses of icy lemonade at their table, Ben asked, “Did you ever
find Harrington?”

Taking her cue from
Flo, Maggie cocked her ear and heard Patsy Cline’s
Crazy
playing
on the jukebox. She’d have to sort that out later, maybe. “Yes,” she replied to
Ben. “Harrington’s working for me now.” Maggie kept her tone steady, certain
that Ben already knew about her hired hand. So what did her old friend really
want to know?

“Drove by the other
day. Saw a few horses, but not enough to qualify as a racing stable. Figured
you’d found some help.”

“It’ll take time. Actually,
I have a half dozen horses racing in the Chicago area.”

Ben’s jaw dropped. “That’s
got to be expensive.”

“So far they’re
holding their own. And some of Ed’s friends cut a real good deal for me.”

“You can trust
them?”

“I’m wondering
these days who I can trust, but I know I can trust them. They have long standing
roots in the horse industry, and they’re good people.”

Maggie looked
quizzically at Ben, a question forming in her mind. “Say, do you know any
reason why Prater at the bank hated my dad? I thought everyone liked him, or at
least tolerated his quirks.”

Sipping his
lemonade, Ben closed his eyes. His skin darkened. He looked like a man in a
trance.

Maggie started to
fidget. “Don’t withhold anything from me. I feel like I’m all of a sudden
stumbling around in the dark. The man’s intense dislike for me makes no sense. I’ve
never done anything to harm him.”

Ben opened his eyes
and put his glass down carefully. “No, it’s not you specifically. Prater is
superb at nursing a grudge, always has been. We were all graduating from high
school. Prater, your dad, your mom, and me. Your mom had been dating Prater for
six months or so.

Maggie gasped.

Nodding, Ben
continued, “He thought Iris was going to marry him. She thought otherwise. Apparently,
she was using Prater to get your dad’s attention.”

Maggie grinned—how
like her mom!

“Anyway. Prater was
bragging to the guys about how he was going to ask Iris to marry him after the
graduation party. He never had the chance—your dad and mom eloped to Las Vegas
with their diplomas in hand.”

“Oh, my God!” Maggie
gasped, covering her mouth.

“Prater never spoke
to your mom again. Never forgave your dad for taking what he claimed was his.”

Maggie’s eyes
widened. “So he’s been after the farm ever since.”

“Ever since. Your mom
would have died before letting that land go. Your dad did everything he could
to hold onto it through bad years as well as good. Even though the land had
been in your mother’s family for generations, it was often used as collateral. That
was the case with most family farms. I think Colt paid it off maybe five years
before his death.” Ben chuckled softly. “There was a lively celebration that
night.”

“I remember that. I’d
never seen my folks so happy. But I didn’t fully understand. I never had the
background information. So Prater never married.”

“Nope.”

“Not much of a life,
living to hate.”

“You got that
right. Everybody needs somebody to love.”

Maggie knew Ben was
thinking about his deceased wife. She leaned over to pat his hand. “Thanks for
being honest with me, Ben. I don’t know why my folks never shared that story
with me. They weren’t evil—they were just in love.”

“Don’t know why
they didn’t tell you, either. Maybe they felt some shame about it. You can bet
Prater would disagree with you, though.”

“How’s that?”

“About what’s evil
and what’s love.”

“Suppose you’re
right. So what did you want from me, Ben?”

Ben reached into
his coat pocket and pulled out a letter. “I need to talk with you and your
brother about this. It just arrived yesterday.”

Her brother. Why on
earth? “What is it? What’s wrong?” She didn’t like the sound of terror coming
from her throat.

“Nothing’s wrong,
Maggie.” Ben handed Maggie the letter. “It seems that your folks took out a
life insurance policy in Las Vegas the day they got married. They never told me
about it. Of course, I wasn’t in the insurance business then. Seems that it was
an endowment policy that they lost track of once it was paid up.”

Maggie stared at
the piece of paper. “How could they forget about this?”

“Happens all the
time. People pay up insurance. Never tell anybody. Forget they ever had it. Sometimes
the companies don’t spend a lot of time trying to find the policy holder. Your
folks dealt with a reputable company. As you can tell from the letter, they
contacted me because I sell insurance in this region.”

“So what now?” She
knew the answer. They’d have to contact her brother.

“It’s not a lot of
money, though a hundred thousand sounded like all the money in the world back
when your parents married.” Ben reached for his reading glasses. Retrieving the
letter, he said, “I guess since I was the executor for your parents’ estate, I
have an obligation to let both their children know there are still proceeds to
be divided between them.”

Shivering slightly,
Maggie pursed her lips trying to remain calm. The last thing she wanted was
another blowup with her brother like they’d had when the will was first read.

“My recommendation
to both of you,” Ben said, “is to simply divide the money equally. There’s
little doubt about the court doing that if they got involved, since these
monies were not part of the original will. Going to court over this would be a
waste of money.”

Maggie sneered. “Tell
Brad that.”

“I intend to, but I
don’t know how to get a hold of him. I need your help with that.”

Maggie grabbed her
purse. She’d just as soon leave her brother lost in his own California world,
but she couldn’t do that. He was her kids’ uncle. And they did like him a lot,
even if they seldom saw him.

She scribbled Brad’s
address and telephone number on a slip of paper. Handing the note to Ben, she said,
“This is no guarantee. He moves a lot. We don’t often hear from him. Maybe
there will be a forwarding address.”

“Thanks, Maggie. I’ll
get back to you on this as soon as I can. I’m sure you’re like everyone else:
you could use the money as soon as possible.”

“If it comes about,
I won’t turn the money down.” Recalling her brother’s taste for money, Maggie
added, “But I won’t count on it either.”

Wrestling with
ghosts of past and present, Maggie drove back to the farm. She replayed recent
conversations with Fallon, with Prater, and with Ben. Her folks had eloped to
Vegas. Her heart raced. That must have been love without limits. Her parents
must have been thrilled with the danger and the abandonment of it all. Wow, she’d
never done anything that wild, that unconventional. And these were her folks,
not some Hollywood characters playing out a script.

Yet they had taken
time to invest in life insurance. Why then? Maggie swerved into the middle of
the road and back again. They must have known that her mother was already
pregnant. She’d been an early baby—or so her mom had said. And Maggie had never
seriously questioned that information. Now she knew it wasn’t necessarily true.
No couple eloping to Vegas would purchase life insurance…unless. Unless they
knew their family was enlarging. Goodness. She didn’t want to think about that
any longer. She couldn’t.

Maggie rolled down
the pickup window, wishing the truck had air conditioning. Damn, it was hot. And
summer only promised to get hotter.

So, there was more
behind Prater trying to get her to sell to Con-Ex Farms than the land. His
animosity made more sense now. She’d bet the second party eager to buy the farm
was none other than the bank.

Damn! Prater could
have been her father if her mom had not fled to Vegas.

Now
that
was
sobering.

He wanted her land—he
wanted revenge on her parents.

“Never!” she
screamed to no one.

She smiled warmly,
mulling Ben’s words over and over:
Everybody needs somebody to love
. Surely,
that included the recalcitrant Mr. Harrington.

Was she being too
forward with the man? She’d had no interest in any other man since Mason’s
death. Why now, all of a sudden? Life was already complicated enough without a
man. Was she really throwing herself at him like some hard up woman?

No—she just knew
what she wanted. And she expected he wanted the same thing, but lacked the
courage and self-esteem to acknowledge that fact or act upon it. Obviously, he
was attracted to her. She could still feel the promise of his arousal against
her bottom.

Maggie nervously
ran her fingers up and down the steering wheel. Dust from the gravel road made
it impossible to see anything in the rear view mirror.

Was she simply
trying to rescue him from the bottle? Definitely not. She’d read enough about
co-dependence. She’d left him standing on the crummy sidewalk to make his own
choice. And he’d sobered up and come to her. Well, he came for a job. But he
came to her, nonetheless. She hadn’t expected or wanted to respond to him as a
man, but she had. It was too late to retreat now. She wouldn’t give him up
without a good fight. Even if that fight had to be with Ed Harrington, himself.

- o -

Ed took a swig of
root beer and scratched the lazy tomcat sitting on a bale of hay beside him in
the barn walkway. He’d needed a break, but that simply meant more time for
thoughts of Maggie Anderson to torture his body and soul.

Why couldn’t he
simply get up off his duff and walk away from the damn woman? He didn’t owe her
anything; not anymore. There must be other jobs around he could get now that he
was sober. Hell, the Travers would hire him in a heartbeat. He always
appreciated what they did for him, but it felt too much like an obligation. He
wanted a job that he’d earned.

And he had indeed
made a promise of sorts to help his perky, hardheaded, mush-hearted boss
establish a racing stable. They’d never discussed a timeframe. Hell, it could
take years. Or he could tell her he’d done enough after the purchase of the
broodmares. She’d be minimally set up then.