Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel (36 page)

Maggie took a seat near the back of the bus and sat with her head pressed against the window. It felt cool against her skin. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and tried not to think of all she would need to do once she reached Yakima.

The thought of facing her family with the news that she and Roy were separating twisted her gut. She didn’t know what she would tell her boys when they started asking why their daddy didn’t live at home any longer. Sadness nearly overwhelmed her. The weight of loss and grief was almost more than her heart could absorb.

“Are you feeling all right?” the woman sitting across the aisle from Maggie asked.

She offered her fellow passenger a weak smile. “I’m just tired,” Maggie said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Late night?” the woman pressed.

“Something like that.” Maggie closed her eyes again, not really in the mood to strike up a conversation with a stranger.

“My goodness, would you look at that,” the woman said.

“At what?” she asked, although she wasn’t really interested.

“That car,” the woman continued. “He’s pulled up on my side of the bus and is waving at the driver to pull over.”

Maggie sat up straighter and glanced out the window. No, it couldn’t be. The vehicle was the same make and model as Roy’s car, the very one they’d driven over from Yakima, with the same bumper sticker for Jaxon’s T-ball team. Half standing now, Maggie pressed her hand over her mouth. Obviously, it had to be Roy. She nearly gasped as she sat back down. Having him come racing after her like a madman was the last thing she needed. Or expected.

“Some clown is trying to pull you over,” another passenger called out to the driver.

“It happens,” the driver shouted back. “People miss the bus and then try to catch up with me. It doesn’t work that way. Our policy is clear. I leave on time, and if they aren’t at the stop, then I head out. It’s as simple as that.”

Maggie heard the horn honk.

“What’s he doing now?”

One thing was sure, Roy had everyone’s attention. He continued to press against the horn while the driver did his best to ignore him.

“This fellow’s pretty insistent,” the woman across from Maggie said, shaking her head.

“He’s weaving in and out of traffic now.”

“It isn’t going to do him any good,” the driver called. “I don’t stop, especially on the highway. Not for anyone. It’s company rules. I’ve been driving for ten years, and I’m not about to lose my job over some bozo who can’t tell time.”

“Good for you.”

As far as Maggie could see, the passengers agreed with the driver, including her. As for why Roy would want to stop the bus, she could only speculate. She wanted to believe he’d reconsidered filing
for divorce, but she doubted that was possible. He’d been adamant about what he wanted, and it wasn’t for them to work on their marriage. Surely he didn’t believe it would be possible for them to travel back to Yakima together. The three-and-a-half-hour ride over had been difficult enough. Following their last discussion, it would be impossible to be in the same car together. Roy had to recognize that.

The bus exited the freeway, leaving Maggie to wonder if the driver had changed his mind about stopping.

She sat up straighter and turned to her chatty neighbor. “What’s the bus driver doing? Why did he pull off the freeway?”

“There’s another stop ahead,” the other woman explained.

“A stop? You mean the bus stops in other towns?”

“Oh yes, there are six along this route. Cedar Cove is the second one. There are four others.”

“Oh.” It made perfect sense. This wasn’t welcome news, although she should have realized the bus wouldn’t go directly to the airport from Cedar Cove. The bare fact was, Maggie hadn’t been thinking. She wasn’t in an emotional place to let trivial matters such as bus stops enter her already overtaxed mind. Under normal circumstances it wouldn’t have mattered, but this was anything but usual.

“The car is following us off the exit,” her seatmate informed her, craning her neck to look out the window.

“Good thing, because that blasted horn was beginning to irritate me,” someone else said, and took his fingers out of his ears. “What’s the matter with people today?”

No one had an answer for him, least of all Maggie.

She glanced around for some sign of where they were but saw nothing she recognized. As far as she could make out, the stopping point was little more than a transit parking lot. There didn’t appear to be anything commercial within sight—no convenience store, no service station, no fast-food restaurants. Just a parking lot, and a sparsely used one at that. But then it was Saturday.

Maggie saw a couple people standing next to their suitcases. The
bus pulled up close to the two women and gradually eased to a stop. Both women boarded the bus, paid their fee, and then claimed their seats in the middle.

The driver was about to close the door when Roy leaped on board. He stalked past the driver.

“Hey, buddy, you need to buy a ticket,” the driver called after him as Roy continued down the aisle, headed directly to where Maggie had slouched in her seat. She kept her head down, her chin tucked against her chest, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Maggie, you need to come with me,” he said, standing directly alongside her seat.

Maggie pretended not to hear.

“Maggie,” he said, louder this time. “Come with me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”

Roy exhaled loud enough so she’d know how deeply she’d tried his patience. “We need to talk this out.”

She did her best to sound calm and reasonable. The two of them had the attention of everyone on the bus. The last thing she wanted was for Roy to make a scene. “I believe everything has already been said. Please, just leave. If you want to talk, we can do it once we’re in Yakima.”

“This can’t wait,” Roy insisted.

“It’ll have to.” She could be just as stubborn as her soon-to-be ex-husband.

The driver stepped behind Roy. “Either you pay your fare or you get off the bus,” he said.

“Give me a minute,” Roy pleaded.

“Listen, buddy, I’ve got a schedule to keep. Do I need to call nine-one-one and have you deal with the sheriff?”

“This is my wife,” Roy told the driver.

“Not for much longer,” Maggie informed the driver.

“Okay, you two, listen up. I’m a bus driver, not a marriage counselor. So I advise you to settle whatever marital problems you’re having elsewhere. I got people catching flights.”

Maggie could see that delaying everyone else wouldn’t be appreciated. From his stance, she could tell that Roy wouldn’t easily be moved until he got his way.

In reality, Maggie didn’t have much choice other than to gather her purse and vacate the bus. She wasn’t happy about it, but her options were limited.

“Thank you,” the driver said with apparent relief when she stood and scooted past the woman sitting next to her. Her seatmate gave her an encouraging smile and gently squeezed her hand as she slipped by.

The driver got off the bus to retrieve her suitcase. The passengers on board applauded as Maggie moved past.

The driver gave Maggie a hand as she climbed down the stairs off the bus. “I’m not a marriage counselor or a doctor, but I delivered a baby a few years back while on my route,” he said proudly. “I even made the Seattle newspapers and did an interview for the nightly newscast on Channel Five. You look like a nice couple; I hope everything works out.”

“Thanks,” Roy said, as he moved past the driver and picked up Maggie’s bag.

She didn’t hold out much hope that their talking would solve anything. They’d come too far, said too much, to the point that raw nerves were exposed.

As soon as she had her suitcase, the bus drove off, leaving Maggie standing with Roy in the middle of a nearly deserted parking lot.

For someone who had come chasing after her, honking his horn and holding up a bus full of people in order to get to her, Roy didn’t seem to have anything of importance to say.

The driver’s side of his car had been left open, indicating that he’d leaped out in an all-fired rush. That sense of urgency appeared to have deserted him now that she was with him.

Silently, he walked around to the passenger side and held open the door for her. Then he took her suitcase and placed it in the back. While he dealt with that, Maggie got inside the car and closed her
door. Then she leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes, much the same way she’d done while sitting on the bus.

Roy slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door, but he didn’t start the engine.

“How’d you know where to find me?” she asked, still not looking at him. But her eyes were open now, wide open, and she was curious.

“You didn’t make it easy.”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

“I care,” he returned. In answer to her question, he added, “Connor told me you’d asked about the bus.”

“The young man at the Java Joint?”

“I drove all over town looking for you and got a little desperate when I couldn’t find you. So I started asking folks on the street and in the shops, showed them your photo, and the kid said you’d been in there, drinking tea and asking questions about catching the bus.”

“Why were you looking for me?” she demanded. She found it hard to understand why he found it so important to talk to her now.

“Why do you think?”

His answer infuriated her. “Please, Roy, I don’t want to do this. You made your feelings clear. You’re finished with me. You don’t want this baby. Nothing has changed in the last few hours. As far as I can see, there isn’t anything left to say. All I want now is to get home, wrap my arms around my children, and make plans for my future and theirs.” A future that didn’t include him, other than as the father of her sons.

Roy didn’t seem to have anything to say. When he did speak, she noticed that his hands had a steel grip on the steering wheel, as if he were driving through an intense storm. “It’s a difficult thing to find out the woman I’ve sworn to love could very well be carrying another man’s child,” he said, the emotion in his voice stark, his expression bleak.

Maggie turned her head away as tears blurred her vision. She had nothing to add, nothing to say.

“And something else entirely, to think of living the rest of my life without you. The thing is, Maggie, I don’t think I could manage it. We’ve been one for so long that tearing us into two halves isn’t going to work. I was a fool to have suggested we try.”

Swallowing tightly, Maggie held her breath for fear if she did breathe it would come out as a sob.

“You left your wedding ring behind in the room. At first it just made me mad … I saw it as a dig, a way of getting back at me. In all the years we’ve been married, I don’t ever remember you taking it off.”

She had, but only out of necessity, never in anger or despair. Not until that very day.

“You left the letter, too. The one I wrote you in college.”

Like she would forget when she received it.

“I read the letter … I remember writing it, how I measured every word. I thanked you for making me a better man. I said that I would always love you.” He hesitated, and then in a low voice added, “I meant every single word of that letter.”

“At the time,” she qualified.

“I mean them now.” Again, his words were low and rough. “I mean them now,” he repeated. “You’re right, nothing has changed in the last few hours except the fact that I realize I don’t want to live without you. It isn’t easy dealing with this pregnancy. But I’m trying. Give me a chance. I can’t promise to be perfect, but at least give me credit for making the effort.”

Maggie lifted her head and turned to look at her husband. To her shock, she saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I don’t know how we’ll get through this, Maggie,” he whispered brokenly, “but we will. We’ll survive this and whatever else life throws at us.”

“The baby …” Her cheeks were moist as well, and she found it difficult to speak. The lump in her throat felt as large as a tennis ball.

“I promise you I will do everything within me to love this child,”
Roy said. “From this moment forward I will work on accepting this child as my son or daughter.”

Maggie cupped her hand over her mouth, unable to hold back the sobs. “But I don’t know who the father is.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that … how can you learn to love another man’s child?” She’d realized almost from the first moment she’d discovered she was pregnant that she was asking Roy to do the impossible. He would always wonder, always suspect, always fear.

“I’ll love this child because while we might not know who fathered this baby, there will never be a doubt who the mother is,” Roy said, as he gently wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “You’re the mother, the woman I love.”

A sob escaped her, and she pressed her forehead against her husband’s shoulder.

“This is our baby, Maggie, yours and mine. There won’t be a paternity test. There’s no need for one. We’re in this together. I don’t expect it will be easy for either one of us, but I can’t let you go.” His arm came around her as he buried his face in her shoulder. “I want to be a better man, Maggie,” he whispered, “a better husband and a better father. I’ve failed you, but I swear by everything that is holy, I won’t again.”

She was weeping almost uncontrollably now, and Roy was, too.

“I vowed to love you. I meant it when I wrote that letter, and I meant it the day we were married. I mean it now. Nothing you could ever do will make me love you any less than I do right this minute.”

Maggie would have said the same to him, only she found it impossible to speak. Roy brushed the hair from her cheek with tenderness and love while he rubbed his chin over the crown of her head.

“I love you, Roy.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“I want to go home.”

“Me, too, but can we wait until the morning?”

“Okay,” Maggie whispered.

“Promise me one thing,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“Anything.”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

Maggie grinned. “You got it.” She wrapped her arms around his middle and sighed, suddenly tired and depleted. “We’re going to be okay, Roy.” She felt it in every fiber of her being. Their marriage would survive, and they would grow stronger as a couple and as a family because of this.