Heat Wave (Riders Up) (23 page)

Gasping, Mrs.
McPherson flung a trembling hand to her throat. “Well, my word, threatening an
old woman like me. What do you mean by that?”

“Just remember, I
am my father’s daughter.” Maggie smiled thinly. “I have all his mementos. All
of them. Do you recall
Roses are red and violets are blue…?”

“Oh, my goodness.” Mrs.
McPherson grabbed hold of the table edge, barely maintaining her balance.

Ed thought the
woman was about to faint. But she revived.

“Like your father,
Maggie Magee, you have a tendency to over-react. I didn’t mean to threaten you
or your children in any way. I only had the best interest of your family in mind.”

“Of course, Mrs.
McPherson,” Maggie responded smoothly. “And I appreciate that.”

Ed frowned trying
to figure out what had just transpired. Mrs. McPherson’s sweet words didn’t
match the undisguised hostility on her face. And there seemed little doubt that
his Maggie was a blackmailer. She had something on the old gossip, and it must
be good—damn good.

“Well, it was nice
meeting you, Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. McPherson offered meekly, preparing to make
her exit. “I do hope you’ll like our town and will be pleased to call it home.”

“I surely am
pleased to do that, Mrs. McPherson,” Ed drawled. “Now you enjoy the rest of
your evening.”

He felt the heat of
Mrs. McPherson’s withering glare before she turned and walked rapidly away.

Ed covered Maggie’s
shaking hand with his own. “Wow,” he ventured to no one in particular, “poisonous
snakes can be friendlier than that. Does the woman have a husband?”

“Not anymore,” Ben explained.
“She no doubt henpecked Jethro to an early grave.”

Maggie snuggled
against the warmth of Ed’s body as the truck made its way toward home.

“So what do you
have on old McPherson?” Ed asked. “It must be a powder keg, the way that woman
backpedaled.”

Maggie nodded. It
had started to rain as they headed out of town toward the farm—far too late to
save any crops, but welcome nonetheless. Raindrops pelting the cab made her
believe for a moment that they were encased in their own small world,
impervious to what others thought or said.

Maggie sighed. “You
bet I do.”

“Well?”

“You won’t tell?”

“Of course not. She
means nothing to me.”

“Okay. Apparently,
she and Dad were an item back in high school before he got involved with my mom.
In fact, they made it during a church camp between their junior and senior
years.”

Ed blinked. “You
mean…Mrs. McPherson and your dad. Together. In bed.”

“I don’t actually
know about whether it happened on a bed, or a floor, or on the ground, but they
knew each other carnally, shall we say.” She couldn’t contain her glee.

“Wow! And you have
proof.”

“Uh, huh. Dad gave
me what are supposedly a pair of Mary Jane’s panties. But most damning is a
note she sent him in her own handwriting. I have it stashed in a box, and in my
memory. It goes like this:

“Dear Colt, my
love,

Roses are red and
violets are blue.

You are the
absolute best in bed; my loins ache for you.

I can’t wait to
feel your colt tickling my insides again.

Maybe on the way
home from school. Or after church Sunday.

Tell me when. I’m
more than ready.

Love, Mary Jane N.

“Naylor was her
maiden name. Dad told me to hold onto that note because I might need it
someday. Mary Jane never forgave him for leaving her for Mom. As she aged, she
seemed to become even more vindictive. And Dad wouldn’t have put it past her to
direct her resentment at me or the children someday. Giving me the note was his
way of protecting me, I suppose.”

“And you never let
on about it until tonight?”

“Nope.”

Chuckling, Ed said,
“Seems like your parents stirred up a hornet’s nest when they up and eloped. And
people in Beaverhill have very long memories.”

Maggie nodded in
agreement. “Some of them sure do.”

“And you really are
a chip off the old block, or so the old saying goes. No wonder folks are
ambivalent about you. They’re just worried waiting to see what you’ll dredge up
next.”

“Yeah, and some
must wonder how many secrets I really do know,” Maggie whispered, nestling
tighter against his body. “I like it that way.”

Drenched from
dashing through the heavy rain, Maggie stood in the middle of her kitchen
confused and cold. Tension hung between the two of them like a heavy blanket. He
hadn’t invited her to the loft. She kept reminding herself that it was his
call. He had to take the initiative; that was their agreement. She was sure he’d
been ready to love her again before old biddy McPherson stopped by.

Would he even kiss
her? It had been a lovely evening, and now she was acting like an inexperienced
teenager again. She looked quickly at the sullen man, who seemed as out of
place in her kitchen as she felt. Oh my, they were making puddles where they
had first made love.

“Wonder if she’s
home yet?” Ed grumbled, obviously out of sorts, holding his Stetson with both
hands.

“Huh?”

“Carolyn. Hope that
Humphries kid is more reliable than he looks.”

“Oh.” Maggie brushed
rain out of her slick hair. Good God, he’d remembered Carolyn before she had. Her
little girl was still out there in that storm. She rubbed warmth back into her
bare arms. Clearly neither she nor Ed had a will for romance tonight. Such was
the nature of parental responsibilities.

“If you can wait a
minute, I’ll brew some coffee,” she said. “I’ve got to get out of this wet
dress. Why aren’t you as wet as me?”

“Something to be
said for a broad brimmed Stetson, I guess. Go ahead and change—I’ll start the
coffee.”

- o -

As Ed measured out
the scoops of coffee, his mind jumped from thought to thought. How could Maggie
put up with such nasty people as Mary Jane McPherson? Would the woman leave her
alone if he weren’t in the picture? Probably not.

What was keeping
Maggie so long changing clothes? He tried without success not to imagine her
upstairs slipping out of the wet dress, rubbing herself dry with a thick towel,
and slipping into something soft and warm. He glanced down at the sink only to
be startled because the pot he was filling was running over with water. “Damn,”
he groused. “She’s like a sand burr that refuses to get unstuck.”

“And where are
those kids?” Ed slammed the pot in the coffee maker just before the hot liquid
began to pour out. He hadn’t realized how time could be so excruciatingly slow.
He’d watched races that seemed to move in slow motion, but this waiting was
even more painful. Where the hell had those two bonehead teenagers disappeared
to? It was twelve-thirty in the morning.

“Thanks for making the
coffee.”

Ed jumped back from
the counter. He hadn’t heard Maggie come down the stairs. Looking over at her,
he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. There she stood with a long pink robe
buttoned up to the base of her neck. On her feet were the most god-awful
slippers he’d ever seen. Were they supposed to be squirrels or rabbits? Pink
rabbits, he assumed, given the long ears.

He started to
speak, but couldn’t. He wanted to take her in his arms, but didn’t.

Maggie moved toward
him like some wood spirit he’d read about as a kid. She floated, making no
noise. Her hand touched his chest. A hot iron couldn’t have seared more.

“She’s a half hour
late,” he grumbled.

Maggie winced. “Damn,
don’t you think I know that?” She chewed on her lower lip. Worry lines stretched
her brow. “I hope they haven’t had trouble on these slick roads. I don’t think
they’d deliberately break Carolyn’s curfew.”

“No,” Ed concurred.
“Looked to me like the boy wanted to please you so much he would have had her
home and hour early if he could’ve.”

Moving to the table
with a cup of coffee, Maggie sat down only to immediately jump up and begin to
pace. “It’s hard letting them go, letting them try their own wings. You want to
hold onto them, to protect them from all that’s out there, but you can’t. You
can try, but in the end, you can’t.”

Ed sat in a chair
at the table, from which he would see any headlights turning into the driveway.
“Well, that kid she’s with better have a damn good excuse.”

Before Maggie’s
hard stare, Ed dropped his gaze. His right knee bobbed up and down and his
hands quivered as they cradled the coffee cup.

“Ed,” she
admonished, “don’t you be thinking about getting in the middle of this. If
something needs sorting out, I’ll do the sorting.”

He nodded at her
blankly. “You’re right, Maggie. I’m kind of a spare tire here. Guess I ought to
be hauling my ass off to bed.”

Maggie gasped. “I
didn’t mean it that way. I need and want your support, particularly now.” She
hesitated, then plopped down in her chair, taking a gulp of the coffee. “This
is all new for me, too. Having a dating teenager. Having a man I care about. I
just don’t want you to do some crazy macho thing with the boy.” She sniffled. “Can’t
you just hold me?”

All of Ed’s
emotions drained into a single puddle. Without speaking, he stood. She rose to
meet him. He placed his arms around Maggie tightly, as if she might evaporate. Her
fingers dug into his back, but he wasn’t about to complain. His chest muffled
the sounds of her sobbing. He stroked her back in small concentric circles.

Bending, he kissed
her hair. Lifting her chin with a finger, he covered her lips with his. Her
lips were wet, her mouth warm. He kept the kiss gentle, yet prolonged. This was
no prelude to sex. His body shook as he recognized it for what it was—a prelude
to love.

Maggie’s body likewise
shook in his arms. Was it simply fear for her children? As her tongue slithered
into his mouth, he had her answer. Yet she, too, seemed fully satisfied with
the kiss. No more was needed.

At last breaking
the seal, he whispered, “Everything will be okay.” He continued to massage her
back.

“I know,” she
replied. “I’m just tired of waiting.”

“I think I hear a
car slowing down now.”

Moving away from
the comfort of his body, Maggie rushed to the porch with Ed right behind her. Sure
enough, the Humphries’ car was inching down the driveway.

- o -

“I’m sorry to worry
you, Mom,” Carolyn said, immediately hugging her mother. Quickly moving on to
hug Ed, she explained, “We had a flat on Highway Twenty Six and Bobby had to change
the tire in a downpour.”

Maggie looked at
Bobby for the first time, as if he hadn’t been standing there from the moment
Carolyn entered. She saw a totally soaked and very muddy young man.

“There’s no doubt
you’ve been playing around in the mud,” Ed acknowledged.

“Come on into the
kitchen, Bobby. Let me make you something hot to drink and dry you off some,”
Maggie offered.

“No thanks, Ma’am,”
the boy replied. “I best be getting on home. My folks will be worried something
fierce. The car heater works.”

“Okay. I
understand. And I’ll call them so they won’t have to worry anymore.”

Maggie called the
Humphries as Bobby drove out the driveway.

“What a night!”
Carolyn chirped gleefully. “My first date! Bobby could use some dancing
lessons, but my toes made it. Jackie Hennessey said all her date could do was
stomp on her feet. So much for football players being agile. And then the flat
tire…I was so afraid you’d be mad.”

“Those things
happen. But not on every date,” Maggie cautioned.

“It sure is hard
making conversation with a boy for an entire night.”

Maggie laughed. Ed
choked on his coffee.

“Well, it wasn’t so
bad at the dance. There were other girls to talk with, but alone in the car…”
Carolyn rolled her eyes.

“I’m not sure that’ll
get much better,” Maggie observed, glancing in Ed’s direction. “Men seem to
like to listen to themselves think a lot.”

She grinned at Ed
who was making a show of trying to ignore her.

“And then with the
flat and all and having to rush right in, he didn’t even try to kiss me,” Carolyn
complained, crossing her arms over her chest.

It was Ed’s turn to
laugh. “Don’t want to disappoint you, but, looking at the lad, I don’t think he
would’ve tried that on a first date anyway.”

“You may be right. Bobby’s
not a real romantic guy, but he did ask if I wanted to go to a movie next
weekend. Can I go, Mom? Can I?”

Setting aside all
the worry she’d just gone through, Maggie said, “You may go. But remember, I’ll
put the brakes on your social life if your grades go down.”