Spring Blossom (36 page)

“And you don’t think I have any ‘tender
sensibilities’?” she asked with well-feigned offense.

“Not the woman I know who once hid in the
loft,” he returned and she laughed. “If you’re in agreement, I’ll
proceed to have legal contracts drawn up,” he added. “We don’t want
any disputes over the terms of our services. And once they sign and
deliver the mares, we’re in business.” He shrugged and frowned. “I
suppose Jeffrey and I had better sharpen our salesmanship skills
between now and then.”

“Jeffrey, perhaps,” Maggie murmured fondly.
“But I believe you, beloved husband, could persuade a peacock to
shuck his colors.”

*

Despite her cumbersome state, Marie-Louise
still knew her way around a kitchen. She and Maggie soon fell into
a comfortable routine of shared duties and of knowing each other’s
moves in advance.”

“It’s as if we’d never stopped working
together,” Maggie said happily.

The other woman smiled from her place at the
stove. “Yup. Except one of us is bigger and the other one’s getting
that way.”

Maggie laughed as she set out serving bowls.
“But you really don’t mind,” she returned, convinced.

“The only thing I mind is that Jeffrey has
to sleep arms-length from me.”

Maggie hadn’t thought of that.

“Don’t frown so. You’ve got a ways to go
yet.” So saying, she burst out with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Maggie prodded.

“I never thought I’d see the day you’d mourn
his not being able to touch you.”

Maggie blushed, as Marie-Louise knew she
would.

“I’ll tell you something,” she said. “That
is one pretty blush. I love it,” she crowed merrily.

Just as Maggie remembered she could.

*

Florence found Marie-Louise a bit much for
her tender nature although, eventually, she seemed quietly drawn to
the woman and would often watch her from a quiet corner of the
kitchen.

Jennifer, however, had no such reserve. She
thought Marie-Louise was fun. “Wow!” she said, upon seeing the
newly arrived woman for the first time. “There’s really a baby in
there?”

“A baby or a buffalo,” Marie-Louise
muttered, but she was smiling. “We’re not sure.”

Jennifer dropped her lunch pail and
approached the chair where Maggie’s friend was sitting. “Doesn’t
that hurt?”

“Jen,” Maggie warned softly.

But Marie-Louise waved her to silence. The
women and girls were alone in the kitchen and what harm could there
be in a child’s inquisitiveness?

“Come and feel,” she coaxed and drew
Jennifer closer. “He twirls around in there sometimes,” she said,
taking the girl’s hand and placing it on her stomach.

Jennifer’s eyes were round as she remained
silent and still, concentrating. And then she felt something
beneath the palm of her hand. “Wow!” she crowed before twisting
around toward her sister. “Does our baby do that, Mag?” she asked
with excitement and Maggie nodded her head.

It was moving, somehow, hearing Jennifer
refer to ‘our’ baby for the first time. “A little bit.”

Jennifer dashed forward. “Can I feel?”

Maggie flashed a mock frown at her friend.
“See what you’ve started?”

Marie-Louise simply laughed again.

*

Hunter had always loved to put his hands on
her, but it almost seemed there was no better time than now. He
would watch her face, as he felt the tiny flutters of their child,
and his own expression would glow with delight.

“Sometimes I think I can’t wait for her to
come,” he said one night as they lay in bed.

Maggie snuggled more comfortably within his
arms. “So, today the baby is a her?”

“Her today, Gowan tomorrow,” he quipped.

She slapped him lightly on his inner thigh,
laughing.

“Oh, that’s dangerous,” he warned.

“And your quip was really awful.”

“I know,” he admitted easily. “It just came
out. I promise I’ll try to do better.”

Maggie sighed, contend, happy in her love
for him, and teasingly stroked his arm as it lay across her middle.
“I imagine once I’m the size of Marie-Louise, I’ll be ready for
this baby to come out, too.”

“You won’t be nervous having her here, will
you, little one?” he asked with sudden concern. “Marie-Louise will
deliver before you and…”

“Don’t worry, dear husband. This is
something about which I have no fear.”

“None?” he asked, surprised and immediately
in awe.

“Well, I might be a tiny bit nervous when
the time comes, but only because it is my first time, you
understand.”

He wasn’t sure which of them she was trying
to convince, and replied wryly, “Of course.”

“And, too, by the time Marie-Louise gets
through with all of us, there won’t be a bashful bone in any of our
bodies. The whole world could come in and watch my delivery, and I
won’t even bat an eye.”

“Really?” he inquired, unbelieving.

“Really. When Florence stops blushing,
Hunter, we’ll know we’re in trouble.”

“You love her.”

He stated that comment so matter-of-factly,
she giggled. “She’s a terrific friend. I only wish she weren’t so
shy and reserved.”

They both chuckled over that, and then
Maggie became suddenly serious. Her fingers dug into both of his
forearms as she pressed her cheek against his chest. “Your plan
will work, Hunter. It has to work.”

Hunter held her close for a long while that
night. Her words had only confirmed his thoughts of the past weeks;
all the while she smiled at him and joked with him and made love
with him, the thought of losing Treemont had been plaguing her
mind.

CHAPTER 27

Maggie ventured into the attic of Treemont’s
old venerable house, moving cautiously up the steep steps.

The attic was dim and musty, and dust motes
danced in the narrow beam of spring sunlight that came through the
small round window. She set her lamp on an old wooden table and
looked around. They should clean up here one day, she thought; the
massive area was filled with worn things and dust collectors.

In a darkened corner she spied the object
that had brought her up here; a large shape covered over by an old
sheet. Holding her skirts carefully away from the wooden storage
boxes and dusty furniture, Maggie moved forward toward the thing
and whisked off its covering. Jennifer had been the last to use the
high cradle suspended between two intricately carved posts. It was
in need of polishing and a new mattress, but it was a perfect
beginning for her preparations. Excited by her find, Maggie moved
quickly toward the stairs and made her way to her father’s study
where Hunter was once again working.

“Could you help me please?” she asked from
the doorway.

He raised his head, curious. “Of course, my
love. What’s up?”

“There is something I need, but you will
have to help me,” she said evasively.

He stood and rounded the desk. “We’re a bit
mysterious this morning, aren’t we?” he teased, moving to her side
and dropping an arm casually across her shoulders. “What do you
need?”

“We’ll find it upstairs.”

Hunter’s brows arched in anticipation.
“Really?”

“Not that,” she laughed.

He feigned a frown. “Now I’m hurt and
disappointed.”

“You are incredible,” she accused
lightly.

He nodded his head. “It’s called lust, my
love,” he explained.

“Hunter,” she admonished the man with his
own name as they climbed the stairs.

“I can’t seem to help myself,” he said
conversationally. “I love you. I long for you, and I lust after
you.” He grinned then as she looked at him askance. “The three
L’s.”

She laughed. “You’re insane.”

“Possibly,” he agreed, still smiling
roguishly.

Maggie led him to a door at the end of the
corridor, and he frowned in curiosity as she opened it and he spied
the steep, winding stairs.

“Good, God,” he said. “You didn’t go up
there alone?”

“Of course I did,” she said, starting upward
again. “I’m not made of glass, my darling and I’ve been coming up
here as long as I can remember. You must stop worrying about me
just because I leave the kitchen occasionally.”

“I worry about you,” he returned
sardonically, “when you leave our bedroom.”

“That’s just the lecher in you.”

“No, ma’am,” he drawled, which made her
laugh because his accent was more English than Southern.

“It’s over here.” Maggie led the way to the
dusty corner. “I need this taken downstairs, please.”

Hunter stood beside her and examined the
cradle. “What a lovely piece,” he said. “But you won’t need it for
quite a time yet, little one.”

Maggie shook her head vigorously. “It needs
waxing and polishing, and I want to make a new mattress and…”

He held up a hand in surrender. “All right!
I understand. But I’ll need help getting down the bend in those
stairs. I’ll ask Jeffrey to come and help me.”

He turned, waiting for Maggie to pass in
front of him in the narrow area near the top of the stairs. “This
is quite a storage place,” he muttered as he looked around the
room, skirting cobwebs hanging from wooden rafters.

“There are a few good things up here,” she
said defensively, picking her way carefully down the steps.

Hunter refrained from comment, giving the
area one last disgusted look.

Maggie stopped at the last step and reached
out to open the door. Her body suddenly went still when she pulled
back…with only the doorknob in her hand. She stared, stunned and
stupid for a moment at the thing, her mouth falling open as the
ramifications of what had just occurred registered fully in her
mind.

Hunter stepped down beside her just as
Maggie turned an incredulous look upon him. He saw what was in her
hand, looked briefly at the closed door, and glanced back to her
astonished face. Hunter suddenly felt the humor of the situation
well up inside him and he threw back his head and roared with
laughter.

“This is not funny, Hunter,” Maggie said
quietly.

Hunter was busy wiping tears of merriment
from his eyes now.

“It is,” he croaked, striving for
control.

“Hunter,” she said, smiling now herself as
she realized she must have looked very ridiculous a moment ago. “We
have to pull this door inward in order to open it.”

He nodded his head, once again gasping with
his continuing laughter.

“In order to get out,” she stressed.

“I know, love.”

“We’re trapped up here,” she added, crossing
her arms beneath her breasts. But he was enjoying the kind of
laughter that, once started, could ripple infectiously through
crowds, becoming contagious, and Maggie soon found herself laughing
as well. “This is insane,” she choked as Hunter wrapped his arms
around her and pulled her against his chest.

“I don’t mind being locked up here with
you,” he said, containing his laughter at last. But his smile
remained as she looked up at him. “There are too many people
demanding your time or mine and much too often,” he added, lowering
his lips toward hers.

Maggie accepted the kiss, but she found
laughter bubbling up with her and her lips began to twitch against
his.

Hunter gave it up as a bad job.

He raised his head and smiled down at her as
he stroked her cheek lightly with his knuckles. “I do love you,
Maggie. I don’t think I tell you that often enough.”

“I love you, too,” she returned quietly,
sincerely.

He laughed briefly, then sat on one of the
lower steps and pulled her down beside him. “Has it occurred to you
how fortunate we are?” he asked, holding her close against his side
while he stared at a door they could not open.

“To be locked up here?” she teased.

He shook his head, his smile filled with
fondness. “We have everything…each other, a baby soon to join us,
yours sisters, good friends…”

And Pride to help us save Treemont, she
thought…

“I’ve thought of it often,” she added. “And
it was you who gave it all to me.”

“Me?”

“If you had not been such an insistent ogre,
I would never have left this place, never have loved or been loved,
and never have known the joy of carrying our child.”

“So, you don’t mind that I was such an
‘insistent ogre’?”

“How could I mind? I feel wonderful and I’m
happy and I think I am very, very fortunate.”

“I’m glad you haven’t been ill all this
time,” he said, placing his hand on her stomach. “I would have felt
guilty if you had been.”

“And I would have seen to it that you
did.”

He laughed at that. Then, stared once again
at the closed door, “Well I suppose we should devise a plan for
getting out of here.”

“I don’t really think we need to
escape.”

His attention turned to her teasing smile.
“Don’t you, now?”

She shook her head. “I think you should kiss
me again. I mucked up the last one by laughing.”

And he did…several times, in fact…and Maggie
found herself praying that the magic would never go out of this,
that there would always be this sweet, vibrant intensity between
them that was so like a drug.

Eventually Hunter raised his head and smiled
at the sleepy-eyed gaze she cast up at him. “You are a devilish
temptress.”

“I am?”

“You are,” he said firmly. “As pregnant as
you are, I could take right here this very moment. Why is it I
never stop wanting you incessantly?”

Her smile remained serene. “Why is it I want
you never to stop wanting me?”

He laughed softly. “I think we’d best get
out of here or you’ll seduce me amongst the dust covers.”

“I?” she questioned innocently.

Hunter, studying the heated look in those
ice-blue eyes, muttered, “Oh, hell,” and pressed his lips to hers
again.

They were still uncomfortably sprawled on
the steps when Marie-Louise swung open the attic door.