Maggie's Mountain (23 page)

There was a moment when she thought she saw fear skitter across Cordelia’s features. “We’ll just see about that.”

Maggie tilted her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might actually love your son?”

Now it was panic, though it was quickly covered by a stiffening spine. “You…you couldn’t possibly love Hale. He…he might think he has some sort of strong feelings for you, but don’t attempt to lie to me about lov…loving my son. It’s not possible.”

Maggie wished the woman would bend, even just a little, so that they could find some common ground. “You can’t pick and choose your feelings, Mrs. Warrick. What you feel, what your heart decides it wants, you can’t control that. You have to know that Hale loves you; he wouldn’t abandon you just because he has me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

Maggie sighed, a gentle sound that seemed to jangle Cordelia’s straining nerves. “No, you’re right, you didn’t. I would apologize, but to be honest, I think we crossed that line before you pulled into my driveway.”

Cordelia turned away but Maggie said nothing, knowing she needed the moment to gather her thoughts. She was sure this meeting wasn’t going at all as Mrs. Warrick had anticipated. In the other woman’s world, Maggie was supposed to give a token protest, then acquiesce with very little resistance—especially when substantial money was offered. Instead Maggie was fighting for Hale, fighting for a new relationship that had just begun to test its legs. She was sure it made it that much harder for Cordelia to brush aside her confession of love.

Mrs. Warrick suddenly swung around, her back to the fireplace, and tried to stare Maggie down. “I’ll never accept this. I will make sure Hale loses everything, piece by piece, until he comes to his senses. And you’ll be the one responsible for his downfall. Is that what you want? Will that make you happy?”

“It won’t make any of us happy. Hale and I—” Maggie broke off as something over Cordelia’s shoulder caught her eye. Was that…? Oh, God, it was coming right at the cabin!

The other woman sneered. “You can’t even finish your thought.”

Maggie didn’t think; she instantly reacted.
“Move!”
She grabbed Cordelia by her upper arms, catching her so off guard that she didn’t struggle. There was a split second to wonder if she would be able to get the other woman completely clear as she flung her aside. She wrenched Cordelia around toward the open kitchen area, the strength of her push adding surprising velocity as the older woman was propelled across the distance.

Then Maggie plummeted to the floor as a horrifically loud, ground shaking mix of twisting metal, shattering glass, and falling rock echoed behind her. It was deafening, completely filling her world for a long, ear-splitting moment before everything went silent.

She lay on the floor, dazed, unsure what had happened. She tried to evaluate her body, her bones, her muscles, her flesh; everything was blessedly numb for several seconds. Then the pain exploded, ripping through her with icy hot talons, making breathing almost impossible as she fought back the agony that threatened to swallow her.

She heard scratching and whining over the roaring in her ears. Mac, she thought, and was grateful she’d put him in the other room. She turned her head slowly, afraid she might hurt herself more if she moved too quickly. But darkness was seeping into the corners of her sight, a sure sign that she was on the edge of passing out. She had to know Cordelia was okay.

“Oh, dear Lord!” The other woman’s exclamation was a relief. “A truck? There’s a truck in your house!”

She might have laughed, but the excruciating pain was splintering her into jagged pieces. Reality was fading when Cordelia’s knee appeared in her wavering vision.

“Maggie?” Cordelia scooted closer, pushing aside remnants of wood and glass. “Maggie! Please don’t be dead. You can’t be dead.”

She touched Maggie’s cheek with surprisingly tender fingertips. “Maggie, can you talk?”

“I’m alive.” Was that her voice? It was scratchy, blurry, almost unrecognizable.

“Okay, okay…don’t die. We aren’t done with our argument.”

There was some shuffling, lost in the red haze overlapping Maggie’s conscious thoughts. The last thing she heard was Mrs. Warrick’s shaking voice.

“There’s been an accident. Please, hurry. I don’t know…I don’t know if she’s dying.”

Chapter Nineteen

Hale was dancing on the fine edge of panic, willing his feet to move faster as he rushed to the garage door. His brother was just stepping inside as Hale rushed out, so he grabbed Trent’s shirt front and spun him around, dragging his brother with him.

“Whoa, hey, I’m not fit to go anywhere. I smell like horse.” Trent’s words were tinged with laughter as he was hauled to Hale’s Mercedes.

“Maggie and mother are in the hospital.”

That stopped Trent just long enough for Hale to give him a push into the car. His mind was jumbled with a thousand different scenarios, a thousand different outcomes, a thousand different, dark possibilities. He jammed the key in the ignition as he smacked the door opener. The garage door was barely up when he reversed onto the driveway, then barely down as he swung the car around and raced to the road, leaving half his tires on the pavement behind them.

“What happened?” Trent’s question was quiet and raw.

“I don’t know. They said something about an accident with a stolen truck.” And all he could picture was the two the women who were his world trapped in a tangle of steel.

Trent drew in a deep breath of surprise. “Why was mom with Maggie? That makes no sense.”

“I wish I knew why. I can take a guess, but I can’t imagine any reason they’d been in the same car.”

There was a long pause as Hale whipped them around first one corner, then another. He pushed the machine as hard as it would go, not paying any attention to the speed and hoping all the hype from the salesman about handling was true.

“Where were they?” Trent’s voice interrupted the silence. “You said an accident with a stolen truck.”

“They didn’t say.”

“Are they…never mind.”

Hale understood; his mind had gone there immediately, too, wondering if they were still alive. He’d quickly shoved the thought aside, refusing to examine even the slightest possibility of death.

The high school was a blur on their left, and a moment later Bullard’s Drugs was a white smear to their right. Hale jerked the car into the turn lane and squealed into the parking lot of the hospital. He maneuvered the car into what he hoped was a parking spot, not caring if he was taking up more than his share of space, and slammed the vehicle into park. He didn’t realize he was running until he heard Trent’s heavy footfalls behind him.

By the time he sped into the E.R. his panic was close to the surface. A dark, friendly face greeted him.

“Can I help you?”

“Someone called…my mother and Maggie Brannon…” He was shocked his words were coherent.

“Of course, come on through.”

A second later the doors beside the desk swung open automatically, revealing the receptionist. She gave him a reassuring smile that did nothing to soothe his nerves.

“Mrs. Warrick is in exam two,” she explained as she walked him back.

“How is she?” He needed to know—had to know.

“More shaken up than anything.” She took a moment to look over her shoulder as she walked. “She has a few scrapes and bumps, but nothing serious. We’re just monitoring her right now.”

“And Maggie? Where is she? Is she…?”
Please let her be okay. If she’s all right I swear I’ll marry her tonight and do everything I can to make her happy for the rest of her life.

She wrinkled her brow as she replied. “Mrs. Brannon is in exam one.”

Hale nodded as he stopped at the first door.

“Mr. Warrick, your mother is—”

“I’ll be right there.”

“But Mr. Warrick—”

Trent hurried past him. “I’ll check on our mother.”

The receptionist, looking slightly harassed, didn’t seem to know what to say. “But you aren’t immediate family.”

Hale stared at her, daring her to tell him not to go in. “I’m her fiancé.”

“Oh…oh!” Her eyes went wide.

“Hell of a proposal,” Trent called back over his shoulder, laughter in his voice.

Hale didn’t reply; instead he slid open the door to Maggie’s room. He nearly collapsed when he saw her lying on the bed, her eyes closed, but her face flushed with life. It took him a full minute to realize Jolene was sitting in the mauve chair beside the hospital cot.

“Seems like we keep meeting here.” Jo sent him a reassuring look, stating without words just how terrified he must look.

“Maybe you and Ben should come over to our house for dinner. Break up the monotony.” His voice was still shaky, but at least his heart was slowing.

Jolene raised her eyebrows at his statement. “
Our
house?”

“We’re getting married.”

The pretty blond bit her bottom lip, as if she were trying to hold in a laugh. “Does Maggie know that?”

“She will.” He walked over to the bed, laid a hand on her arm. Her skin was warm underneath his palm; she was alive and breathing, and that’s what mattered. “What happened?”

Jo let out a long breath. “To be honest I’m not exactly sure. Some idiot stole a dually truck from the Blackburn place, and then somehow managed to drive it into the cabin. Took out the fireplace and most of the living room wall.”

But she was okay. Now that he was closer, he could see the scrape on her cheek, the shallow cut on her neck, the bruise on her jaw. Her arm, which was resting on top of the green blanket, was wrapped in a sturdy ace bandage from her hand to her elbow. Her leg was uncovered, as well; it was encased in a cast, her delicate toes peeking out from the bottom, her swollen, bruised knee anchoring the top. She was beat up, yes, but she was alive.

The door opened, a muted sound that announced the scrub clad doctor. He was consulting the chart in his hands as he stepped inside. He looked, Hale thought, to barely be out of school, with his white blond hair and unlined face screaming collegiate frat boy.

He looked up, his expression encouraging. “Her labs look fine.”

“What are her injuries?” Hale asked, holding Maggie’s hand in his own.

“I’m sorry, you are…?”

“Her fiancé. Her husband just as soon as I can get a judge here.”

The young man turned questioning eyes to Jolene, who simply shrugged. “Oh, well, uh, Mrs. Brannon has a broken leg, some bruised ribs, and torn ligaments in her forearm. Otherwise, she’s in good condition, especially considering the circumstances.”

He knew the doctor was trying to reassure him, but Hale couldn’t keep the roaring concern from his head. “Shouldn’t she be awake?”

“We gave her pain medication just a few minutes ago.”

“But what about a concussion?”

Jolene interrupted with a soft voice. “Hale, they made sure she was okay to take the medicine before they gave her anything.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to find calm. “Of course, I’m sorry. Thank you.”

“Glad we could help.” The doctor smiled kindly. “We’ll keep her overnight for observation.”

“A private room,” Hale said automatically.

“I’ll let them know.”

The doctor left; several beats passed before Maggie’s friend said anything.

“You should see your mother, Hale.”

“I will.” But he wasn’t quite ready to leave Maggie yet.

Jolene seemed to empathize, because she gently tucked Maggie’s exposed arm underneath the blanket instead of insisting he leave.

“Does she know you want to marry her?”

He shifted his weight, kept his eyes on the woman in the bed. “I’ve told her I want to be with her.”

“But you haven’t actually proposed?”

He fought between laughter and fear as he met Jo’s gaze; the laughter won. “It’s crazy, huh?”

Jolene grinned back at him as she shook her head. “Not when it comes to you and Maggie. Don’t let her think too much or for too long, Hale.”

“I won’t. I meant it when I said I was going to marry her tonight.”

“Oh, she’ll just love that. Married in a hospital gown. I realize I said not to let her think about it too long, but don’t scare her, either. It’s a fine line, Hale, and you’ll have to walk it.” She gave him a searching look before she continued. “Since you’re going to be as good as a brother-in-law, can I give you a piece of advice?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

Jolene gave his forearm a soft squeeze. “Let her have time to enjoy being engaged to you. And you will be; I can promise you right now Maggie will say yes. But let her wallow a little, let her buy a box full of bridal magazines and make a binder full of ideas.” She shrugged as the corners of her mouth twitched. “Okay, maybe let Maggie and
me
and do that; it’s what best friends do.”

“Sounds like a lot of waiting,” he groused.

“Yeah, it does, but you’d be surprised how fast a few months can fly by.” She laughed quietly at his annoyed look, then her gaze became serious. “Maggie didn’t get to do all the things brides usually do when she married Chris. Oh, she said it was because she didn’t want all the fuss, and maybe that was a small part of it. The real reasons, though, were her mother’s health and fear of the animosity in town. I’m not saying she wanted a huge ceremony with hundreds of guests; that just doesn’t fit her personality.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he said, and gazed back down at the woman he loved.

“Trust me when I say I understand how you feel; but Maggie…you should give her a chance to be a bride, Hale.”

He stroked the top of Maggie’s hand with his thumb. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. She can have all the flowers, all the guests, all the goose liver pâté she wants, or we can stand outside in her garden and have preserves and homemade cake. It doesn’t matter, I don’t need the trappings; she can have whatever makes her happy.”

Jo smiled again. “She just might take you up on that garden offer…but your mother might object if you skip the lavish do. Truthfully, she might object, period.”

He let loose a deep grumble, caught between love for his mother and love for Maggie. “My mother…I need to go check on her.”