Heat Wave (Riders Up) (22 page)

Why did she
suddenly feel so out of control? Trying to rub the chills from her bare arms,
Maggie shrugged at her image in the mirror. A strap of her slip fell away,
nearly baring a breast. She closed her eyes and felt his lips nuzzling her
skin. His teeth pulled the thin fabric away and her erect nipples strained
under the caresses of his tongue and lips.

Shaking, Maggie
opened her eyes wide. She leaned against the vanity. Her entire body was on
edge. Heat gnawed at her loins. The uncertainty of the evening had her coiled
like a tight spring.

Romance was
supposed to be lovely and delicious. Then why did she feel so imperiled? It was
only a dance. It wasn’t like he held her life in his hands.

Frantically, she
brushed her hair. She felt like a billiard ball completely at the whim of the
careening cue ball. Maggie laughed aloud—it must be tough being a billiard
ball, especially if you were used to being the cue ball. She tried to imagine
what her personal cue ball was up to. A whisper of a smile flitted across her
lips. Was he as nervous as she was? Or was he simply taking the evening in
stride?

- o -

Ed buttoned his
dress shirt feeling quite pleased with himself. He’d thrown Maggie off balance
a time or two. She hadn’t expected his formal request for a date, and she
certainly had not known what to say about the flowers. She’d been flustered,
and he liked that. Her vulnerability needed to surface more often, or she’d
give him a complex for sure. Maggie was so in control—of herself, and too often
of him. There were occasions when he wondered just how much her pride was
covering up. She’d known a lot of pain and loss, but she always seemed to pull
herself together and hold up her chin, prepared to take on the next hurdle. Ed
tugged at the string tie. The woman had to be more vulnerable than she let on.

God knew he was
vulnerable enough—maybe enough for both of them. Yet, he’d come a long way. Seldom
did he have the classic drinking nightmare anymore, where he’d wake up sweating
because he dreamed he’d fallen off the wagon. Even most crises didn’t cause him
to shake. Still, he never underestimated the risk of drink and its danger to
his life. Chaos remained only one drink away. He was determined never to test
that theory.

Maggie Anderson had
thrown him a lifeline, but it was his own hand that had reached out and grabbed
what was offered. And now he was beginning to think he might actually have a
life to look forward to again. He wanted that life to include Maggie, but he
still wasn’t sure how that could happen. Maybe he’d just try to be her escort
for a while and see where that led.

Tongues would wag,
that was for sure. But then they were already wagging. He and Maggie both
deserved some fun. They worked hard. She was driven to save the land, and he
guessed he was driven to leave his past behind. In order to have some fun, they’d
have to get away from the farm now and then. Could he ever get away from his
past?

He hadn’t formally
asked a woman for a date in years. Whatever had possessed him to do so now was
beyond his comprehension. They could’ve just gone to the festival together, and
his nerves would be less jumbled. What did she expect of him? Would she want
him to take her to his bed?

Ed shivered. Damn,
he’d always hated dating as a kid. And his entire adult life was made up of a
smattering of one night stands; not a lot of confusion there. But Maggie was
not a one night stand—never was, never would be. And he certainly wouldn’t want
her any other way.

Grabbing his
billfold and keys off the night stand, Ed glanced around briefly. The place
looked orderly enough, not that Maggie would mind a mess particularly. He wasn’t
certain that taking her to bed was such a good idea. They needed time—well, at
least
he
needed time—to sort things out bit by bit. Glancing down at his
arousal, he realized that part of him required no more time for sorting.

The red numerals on
the digital clock gave him his immediate marching orders. “Well, little lady,”
he drawled, picking up his Stetson, “guess it’s time to see where this dancing
thing takes us. Romance I promised, and romance it will be.” With a swagger in
his step that he hadn’t felt for a long spell, Ed made his way down the loft
steps and across the driveway toward his quarry.

“My, my,” Ed said,
appreciating what he saw when Maggie greeted him at the door. “Carolyn informed
me if I was getting you a corsage that it had to be for the wrist. I didn’t
tell her I’d never buy a woman a flower to cover up her breast, particularly if
we were going dancing. But…you look spectacular.”

“Thank you,” Maggie
shyly demurred, turning around slowly before his gaze.

His eyes swept over
her body. She wore a baby blue dress, matching her eyes. It clung to her
shapely curves like a well fitted glove. Tiny shoulder straps held it up while
showing suggestive soft cleavage. If she wore a bra, it was sure hard to tell. The
dress stopped well above her knees; he figured the slit in its left side was
the only thing that enabled her to move some. Tiny pearl earrings and a
matching choke collar made her appear somehow more feminine.

He’d never seen her
in heels before. These were low and matched the color of her dress. They looked
practical, well suited for dancing. Maggie remained a sensible woman, but was
still the sexiest female he’d ever seen.

Carolyn was right—there
was only room for a wrist corsage, and he liked it that way. He hoped he didn’t
appear too eager.

- o -

Maggie bit her
lower trembling lip while carefully placing the corsage on her wrist. She had
to slow down her heartbeat somehow. He’d surprised her again. A corsage. And an
orchid, at that. It looked so fragile. She sniffled, trying to hold back tears.
At thirty-four, she’d just received her first orchid. She peered up at Ed. Could
her body and soul withstand much more romancing?

“I guess we’d
better go,” she managed to say. “Carolyn was picked up fifteen minutes ago, and
I deposited Johnny at Adam’s house late this afternoon.”

She took a step
toward the doorway and then stopped. “No, not yet. I’ve got to tell you, Ed,” she
said, reaching for his hands, “you look terribly handsome tonight. You look
nothing like that shadow of a man I remember meeting on the sidewalk in front
of the Resting Arms. You must’ve gained at least twenty pounds since then—and
all of it in the right places, I might add.” Her small hand squeezed his hard
bicep.

Ed flinched. “Must
be all the good food and hard work,” he finally mumbled.

“And determination
on your part. I’m so proud of what you’ve been able to do. I know it’s not been
easy, particularly when things go badly.”

“I used to believe
alcohol was a friend in my times of greatest need. It blotted out the memories.
Now I know it was my worst enemy.” Ed sighed and grabbed Maggie’s hand. Tugging
gently, he said, “Let’s get out of here before we get too mushy. I want this to
be a fun evening.”

“Me too,” she
agreed quickly, flashing him a smile. With her nerves tightly under wraps,
Maggie said gaily, “Lead on, Sir Knight, your damsel awaits your command.”

Ed laughed while
offering her a deep bow. “That’ll be the day.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Beaverhill High
School gym doubled as a community social hall. With its bleachers folded against
the walls, Ed thought the gym looked like most any small town high school gym
characteristic of the Midwest. Autumn decorations of brown and orange crepe
paper hung from the basketball hoops and from the ceiling. Fall leaves and
shocks of corn stalks decorated a corner of the room. A few oddly shaped
pumpkins that had survived the summer’s heat sat on the stage next to the five-member
band.

Band members ranged
in age from maybe thirty to seventy. He’d been told the four men and one woman
were quite versatile performing pieces from the thirties to the present. As
long as there was plenty of country and soft rock and roll, he’d be satisfied.

Ed sensed the
tension gnawing at Maggie as soon as they entered the building. At first she
seemed uneasy to meet anyone in the eye. When he reached for her hand, her palm
was sweaty. In a matter of minutes though, she’d relaxed.

Smiling as if she
possessed a secret, she introduced him to old friends and neighbors. There was
plenty of small talk about the welcomed change in the weather, poor crops, and
getting by. A few folks asked him about Maggie’s horses, but most didn’t broach
the topic. And none asked about what might be going on between him and his
beautiful boss.

Most of the
party-goers sat at cloth-covered card tables. As soon as he and Maggie entered
the gym they’d been spied and waved at by Ben Templeton. Clearly they’d been
expected.

Ed liked Ben. He
was genuinely interested in their horse business, but he didn’t pry. And he had
a dry sense of humor that many probably missed. Ben had invited a widower,
Gladys Mays, to join him for the evening. He’d whispered something to Maggie
about taking his own advice. Maggie’s cheeks had pinkened in response, but
neither she nor Ben had provided further elaboration.

“So what do you
think or our little town, Ed?” Templeton asked, lifting a glass of punch to his
lips.

“Seems like most
small communities, I guess. I’m from Clarion—but you probably knew that. There’s
good and bad in small and large. I do appreciate the relative quiet and slower
pace.”

“That’s true
enough. Say, that was quite an article in the paper a while back. Do you think
our Maggie is going to succeed in the horse business?”

Ed glanced at
Maggie, who sat beside him listening intently. He smiled. “I think Maggie will
succeed in whatever she sets her mind to.

Templeton nodded. “Think
you’re likely right about that.”

“Right now,” Maggie
said, reaching for Ed’s hand, “I simply want to succeed at dancing. If it’s not
too much to ask, I’d like a partner.”

“I’m willing,” Ed declared,
looking into those sparkling eyes. He didn’t fail to notice Templeton’s eyebrow
flash and approving smile at Maggie’s vague use of the word partner.

With a hand resting
on her back, Ed guided her to the dance floor. Somehow in that brief moment he’d
passed inspection by one of Maggie’s oldest mentors and protectors.

It was a slow song,
just the kind he liked best. They moved together easily. She snuggled against
him with one hand holding his at his chest and the other resting on his shoulder.
He encircled her waist, holding her tight and resting his chin on top of her
head. Ed breathed deeply of her scent as they glided gracefully, oblivious to
others on the floor.

Seemingly without
skipping a beat the music changed to a Texas two step. With ease, Ed quickened
the pace and Maggie followed as if she’d been following him all her life.

Leaning back to
look at him in surprise, Maggie chided, “Thought you said you couldn’t dance.”

Ed grinned. “Sometimes
I’m overly modest. Knowing that should keep you guessing.”

“I think you like
to keep me guessing,” she teased, laying her head back on his chest.

He wondered if she
could hear his heart pounding. It was so easy to imagine her scrunched up
against his body forever. Damn, he’d missed making love with Maggie; mostly he
missed simply holding her and being held by her.

“Keeping you off
balance is the only way I’m going to have a chance,” he muttered, twirling her
about as if she were a rag doll.

- o -

As Ed escorted her
back to their table, Maggie noticed a few individuals staring at them with
disdain, but she didn’t care. This was good. Taking time to dance, to have some
fun, to be together. It was the right thing to do.

Thank God Ben had
suggested bringing Ed to social functions. Sometimes you had to get away from
the land, or it would wear you down.

Some who stared
were simply curious about him—and probably about her, too. There’d been a few
questions about the horses. No one had yet claimed she was insane, although a
few likely thought it. It was good to see old friends; she
had
been
neglecting some of those relationships. With the approach of winter, the pace
at the farm would likely slow down and there would be more time for catching up
on social happenings.

Mildred Woodson
grabbed her arm. Maggie stopped and smiled at her old friend, dressed in a
brightly colored muumuu. She’d never been able to control her weight and had
apparently given up on trying. They’d known each other since they were in
diapers. Mildred’s smile was radiant.

“I hope this means
we’ll see more of you at church,” Maggie heard her say. “I’ve missed you,
Maggie. Too much work is bad for you.”

“I know, Mildred. I’ll
be around more. Johnny should start confirmation in January. I’ve missed seeing
you, too. Oh, this is Ed. He…”

“Pleased to meet
you,” Mildred said, pumping Ed’s hand in greeting. “I read about you in the
paper. I’m sure pleased that Maggie found you. She needs a steadying influence
from time to time.” Her eyes were full of mischief. “Bye now. See you, Maggie.”

Watching in
disbelief, Maggie shook her as Mildred squeezed her way between chairs making
her way to the desert table.

She redirected her
attention to Ed, who stood there belly laughing.

“
A steadying
influence
? Maybe on a horse, but I don’t think anyone has ever described me
in that manner regarding a woman.”

Annoyed, Maggie
didn’t know if she should laugh or scream. The idea that she needed a steadying
influence! Mildred must have been remembering their junior high school days. Admittedly,
she’d been a little wild then, but now there wasn’t time for adventure. And she
didn’t want Ed to think she was used to cavorting around like someone who
required being reined in. Then, she recalled her efforts at seducing him. She
blinked. Her thighs warmed as she remembered his probing fingers that night in
his loft and her brazen attempt at cooling off in the kitchen.

She headed for
their table. She could use a cool drink with plenty of ice cubes.

After they sat
down, Carolyn brought her date by to say hello.

“Good evening,
again, Ms. Anderson,” Bobby Humphries mumbled, shifting his weight from foot to
foot.

“I’m having a great
time,” Carolyn buzzed. “Are you?”

“I’m glad.” Maggie
gulped the cooling punch. “Yes, I am. A delightful time.” Maggie glanced at her
watch and then at Ed. How soon could they leave? They had until midnight, when
Carolyn would be back.

“What about you,
Ed?” Carolyn asked.

Maggie was a little
embarrassed that Carolyn couldn’t better conceal her pleasure in seeing the two
of them together. Anyone watching would certainly know that the teenage
daughter posed no problem for her mother and her hired hand.

Ed winked at Carolyn.
“Couldn’t be better. Thanks for all the advice.”

“Right,” she
smirked. “I can see you didn’t need any. I knew you’d be a terrific dancer. And
the corsage is so beautiful.”

“Well, we better be
getting back to our table,” interjected Bobby. “I’ll have her home by midnight.
You can count on that.”

“Great,” Maggie
said, trying to be as serious as the boy.

After the young
couple was out of hearing, Maggie whispered in Ed’s ear, “I’m surprised Bobby
can drive. He looks much more nervous than Carolyn. I’m pleased about that.”

“Oh,” Ed whispered
back, “is the male supposed to be a nervous wreck to inspire confidence?”

“Only for mothers.”

“Oh.” Ed’s eyes
danced brightly. “Then this Sir Knight doesn’t need to sheath his sword and put
on a subservient act in order to win his damsel’s favors.”

Maggie couldn’t
control the tremble in her lips. She bit her tongue and then leaned closer to
his ear. “Have you thought about possibly unsheathing your sword before it gets
rusty? We have two hours before Carolyn gets home.”

His body jerked. His
jaw strained. She knew he could feel the heat of her words swirling in his ear.

- o -

Before he could
respond to Maggie’s suggestion, a voice reminding him of fingernails on a
chalkboard interrupted his erotic musings.

“So this must be
the mysterious rogue about whom I’ve been hearing so much.”

Ed turned to see a
thin, smallish woman with steel gray hair glaring at him. If the woman ever
smiled, he expected her lips would crack.

“Ah,” Templeton bellowed
from across the table, “I wondered how long it would take you to sniff out our
foursome. Ed, may I introduce you to Mrs. Mary Jane McPherson, who prides
herself on knowing all there is to know about Beaverhill, and then some.”

Ed nodded. He
appreciated Templeton’s attempt to buffer what could be an embarrassing
situation for Maggie. He figured it was the
then some
that they had to
worry about. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said warmly, not giving away his
feelings of distaste and distrust. “Hope you’re enjoying yourself this evening.
I know I am.”

“Don’t have time to
enjoy myself, young man. Never do. Enjoyment is for those who have no
motivation or sense of duty.”

“Guess that must
include everybody here but you, Mary Jane,” Templeton commented smoothly. Turning
to Ed, he confided, “In case you didn’t know it, Mrs. McPherson isn’t here to
enjoy herself. No sir, she’s working on her weekly newspaper column, and on
keeping the oral communication channels well greased.”

“You’re an evil
man, Ben Templeton.”

Ed watched Mrs.
McPherson stand even more rigid, her eyes boring into Ben.

“You were evil as a
child, and still are.”

“Now then, Mrs.
Anderson,” she called out imperiously, “tell me about this scheme of yours to
raise race horses. What a ghastly business for a young lady to involve herself
in!”

Maggie, who had
been chuckling at the interplay between Templeton and McPherson, stiffened her
back and spoke softly, “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid. Ed does most of
the work with the horses, though he is coaching me and the kids. And the horses
currently racing are being trained by friends in Chicago.”

“Well, you
certainly seemed to have developed a batch of new friends of late. What does
Greta Anderson think about her daughter-in-law mucking stalls? Or her
grandchildren, for that matter?”

Maggie blanched. Ed
knew she was drawing on every ounce of her strength to remain calm.

“I don’t know,”
Maggie managed to say. “Not that I particularly care. You’d have to ask her.”

“You don’t seem to
care about a lot of things that affect your reputation,” Mrs. McPherson sniped,
looking down the tip of her beak-like nose. “I don’t know how you can
let…someone like this,” she sputtered, gesturing toward Ed, “live on your
property. You, a widower. And with a susceptible teenage daughter.”

As the woman worked
her mouth, trying to catch her breath, Ed clinched his fists, but before he
could utter a word, he heard Maggie’s icy voice.

“Mrs. McPherson, I
believe your concern is misplaced. I’m quite capable of making decisions about
how I will live my life. And my children’s interests are always a high priority
for me.”

“Humph, you don’t
seem to be thinking straight now,” Mrs. McPherson retorted. “I have a mind to
talk to child protective services.”

Ed grabbed Maggie’s
arm as she rose out of her chair with a stricken look on her face. Ben
Templeton’s mouth fell open.

Maggie sat back
down in her seat, clearly still fighting to quell her anger. Ed wanted to
defend her, but he knew this was Maggie’s battle and she would not appreciate
his interference.

“Mrs. McPherson, I
hope you aren’t serious. But if you are,” Maggie paused and then spoke sharply,
“you need to know that if you do anything…anything…to harm my children, I will
see that your reputation is irreparably harmed. You will lose whatever meager
status you have left in this community as the keeper of high morals.”