The Heart Remembers (3 page)

“I think I'll remain a woman of mystery,” she declared over her shoulder as she pushed through the door to the sound of their giggles.

Maggie paused on the other side, taking a moment to compose herself. For some reason their innocent teasing had touched a nerve. She'd always claimed she had no time for romance, that she was
perfectly happy living her life solo. She'd pretty much convinced them of her sincerity through the years. She'd almost convinced herself, as well. In many ways, her life
was
easier this way. Only occasionally did she yearn for the life that might have been. But she'd learned not to waste time on impractical “what-iffing.” Her life was the way it was, and for the most part she was happy and content and fulfilled. She had been lucky in many ways, and she was grateful for it. In fact, she had more in the luck department than most people.

Her spirits renewed, she glanced around the small dining room. All the tables were filled, but it was easy to spot their “mystery” guest. He sat alone, angled away from her, his face ninety percent obscured by the daily paper he was reading. Yet she could tell that for once her assessment matched that of the girls'. They'd been right on target in their description of his physical attributes. He was impeccably dressed, his dark hair neatly trimmed above the collar of his crisp white shirt. His long legs stretched out beneath the table, and his hands seemed strong and capable.

As Maggie started across the room, the man lowered the paper and reached for his coffee, giving her a good view of his strong, distinguished—and very familiar—profile.

It was
Jake!

Even as her mind struggled to reconcile his presence with the astronomical odds of him appearing in her dining room, her heart accepted it. She knew that profile—the firm chin, the classic nose, the well-shaped lips. It was him.

Maggie felt as if someone had suddenly delivered a well-placed blow to her chest, knocking every bit of wind out of her lungs. Her step faltered and the color drained from her face. She had to escape, had to get back to the kitchen and regain some control, before he spotted her.

But it was too late. As he lifted the coffee cup to his lips he glanced toward her, and their gazes connected—Maggie's wide with shock, Jake's changing in rapid succession from mild interest to curious to stunned.

Maggie didn't even realize her hands were shaking until the basket of muffins suddenly slipped out of her grasp. She tore her gaze from his and bent down, just as he rose to join her. Some of the juice sloshed out of the glass, leaving a sticky residue on her fingers as it formed a puddle on the floor. A moment later Jake was beside her, wiping it up even as he retrieved a wayward muffin. Then he reached over and took her hand.

Her startled gaze collided with his, their eyes only inches apart.

“Let me.” The soft, husky cadence in his voice was exactly as she remembered it.

Her lungs short-circuited, and she had to remind herself to keep breathing.

With difficulty she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat as he wiped the sticky juice off her fingers with the clean side of the napkin, his strong, bronzed hand gently holding hers as she watched, frozen. Recalling how she used to love the way he touched her. How his hands—possessive, sure, tender—could work magic.

A sudden, unexpected spark shot through her, and in confusion she jerked free of his grasp and rose.

He stood up, as well, and then gazed down at her, his eyes warm, a shadow of incredulity lingering in their depths.

“Maggie.” The way he said her name, gently and with wonder, made her heart lurch into triple time. “It's been a long time.”

“Yes. It has.” A tremor ran through her voice, but she didn't care. She was just grateful she could speak at all.

“Is this your place?”

“Yes. Listen, I'm sorry about the muffins and juice. I'll go get you some more. Excuse me.” And then she turned and fled.

Jake watched her go, aware for the first time that
the two of them were drawing curious looks from the other guests. With one last glance toward the kitchen, he turned and walked back to his table. His first inclination had been to follow Maggie, but he understood that she needed some time to adjust to this strange turn of events.

He knew he did.

Jake reached for his coffee, noting that his hand was trembling. He wasn't surprised. A bizarre coincidence like this was more than a little unsettling. Only yesterday he'd been thinking of Maggie, and his dreams last night had been filled with her. Then he'd awakened to a reality that didn't include her, reminding himself that she was part of his past. Until now.

For twelve years, Jake had felt as if the two of them had unfinished business. Now, after all these years, it seemed he was being given a second chance to make amends. And he intended to take it. He didn't expect her to welcome him back with open arms. But he hoped they could at least find some sense of resolution and inner peace.

But as Maggie burst through the kitchen door, breathless and pale, her emotions were anything
but
peaceful. Her heart was banging against the wall of her chest as furiously as if she'd just finished a hundred-yard dash. She felt light-headed, panicked—and more than a little annoyed. What
was wrong with her? Why should a man whom she hadn't seen in twelve years, who had walked out when she'd needed him most, still have such a powerful effect on her? It didn't make any sense.

And Maggie didn't like things that didn't make sense.

“Aunt Maggie?” Allison's concerned voice penetrated her thoughts, and she glanced up.

“What's wrong?” Abby asked in alarm, hand frozen over the oven dial.

Maggie forced herself to take a deep breath. “I'm fine. I just…well…that man you two have been talking about, I—I used to know him.”

“You
know
him?” Allison repeated incredulously. “How? When?”

“A long time ago. I haven't seen him in years. It was just a…shock, that's all. I'll be okay in a minute.”

Abby sent Allison a worried frown. Maggie never got rattled. “So who is he?” Abby persisted.

Maggie walked over to the center island and put two new muffins in the basket, then filled a glass with orange juice, aware that her hand was shaking. She knew the twins would notice. She also knew they weren't going to let her get away without explaining this uncharacteristic behavior. With a sigh, she turned to find them staring at her, their expressions intent—and concerned.

“He's a man I used to date…a long time ago.”

Suddenly the light dawned on Allison's face. Though Maggie teased them about her past beau, as far as they knew she'd only been really serious about one man in her entire life. Certainly none since they could remember. And it would take someone who had once been important to her to make their aunt…well, come unglued.

“Aunt Maggie, this is
him,
isn't it?” Allison's voice was slightly awed.

“Him who?” Abby demanded.

Allison turned to her twin, eyes flashing with excitement. “
Him.
You know, the guy Aunt Maggie was engaged to once.”

Now it was Abby's turn to look incredulous. “Aunt Maggie, is that true?”

Maggie had always been glad that the twins had grown into insightful, perceptive young women. Until now. She might as well admit the truth, she thought with a sigh. They'd get it out of her sooner or later.

“Yes, it is.”

“Wow!” Allison breathed.

“Yeah, wow!” Abby echoed. “It's so romantic!”

Maggie could think of other words to describe it.
Disruptive,
for one.
Upsetting,
for another.
Scary,
for a third, although why that word popped into
her mind she had no idea. She turned to the twins and gave them a stern look.

“Now look, you two, the man is leaving shortly. It's just sheer coincidence that he turned up on our doorstep last night. I'll admit I was surprised. Shocked, even. But don't make a big deal out of this.”

“But Aunt Maggie, don't you think it's…well, like a movie or something, that he appeared out of the mist at your B&B after all these years? You know, where long-lost lovers are reunited and rekindle an old romance?” Abby sighed.

“First of all, we are
not
long-lost lovers. We didn't get lost. We broke up. On purpose. And second, neither one of us has any interest in rekindling an old romance. I'm happy with my life just as it is. And even though he's not wearing a ring, Jake could very well have a wife and five kids somewhere.”

“I'll bet he doesn't,” Allison predicted smugly.

“Now why on earth would you say that?” Maggie turned to find the other twin peeking through the crack in the door, still checking out her long-ago beau.

“Because he keeps looking this way, like he's waiting for you.”

“He probably just wants his orange juice.” Maggie did her best to adopt a casual tone,
though the turbulence of her emotions made that difficult.

As she picked up the glass and added it to the tray with the basket of muffins she could feel the twins' gazes on her back, knew they were silently communicating with each other about this exciting development in their aunt's lackluster love life.

But in truth, she didn't want to go back out there. Talking to Jake would only stir up old, painful memories best left at rest. Yet, refusing to see him would be childish. Their relationship was history, after all. Whatever they had once felt for each other had long since evaporated. They would simply carry on a calm, mature conversation, and then she'd bid him farewell. She could handle that, she told herself as she lifted the tray and walked toward the door.

Couldn't she?

J
ake was on his feet the moment Maggie stepped through the door, but when she was detained by guests at another table, he sat back down. In a way he was grateful for their intervention, because as they engaged her with questions about local sights, he had a chance to assess the changes in her unobserved.

She was still slender, her trim figure shown to good advantage in a pair of well-fitting khaki slacks and a green, long-sleeved cotton blouse that was tucked in and secured with a hemp belt. But the angular girlish figure he remembered had softened subtly—and attractively—as she'd matured.

His appreciative gaze moved to her hair. The vibrant red color had mellowed a bit, but was no less striking. He'd always been partial to red hair, and Maggie's was especially beautiful, shot
through with gold highlights. She'd never quite tamed its waves, though. Despite her efforts to corral it at her nape with a barrette, loose tendrils had escaped around her face, giving the no-non-sense style a winsome, feminine appeal. She still had her freckles, too, but they appeared to have faded slightly. He assumed she was grateful for
that
change, recalling with a smile how she'd always complained about them.

But there was something else…different…about her. The Maggie he remembered had been dependent, always waiting for him to take the initiative. The woman he now observed seemed anything
but
dependent. She was gracious, poised and self-confident. A woman who not only took charge of
things
but was quite capable of taking care of
herself.
It was a surprising—but intriguing—transformation.

There was one thing, though, that hadn't changed at all, he discovered a moment later when their gazes connected and his pulse flew into overdrive. He found her every bit as attractive as he had twelve years before. His spirits took a swift and surprisingly strong upswing—only to nose-dive a moment later. Just because
he
felt the old chemistry didn't mean
she
did. And even if she did, he doubted she'd want to renew their friendship, let alone anything more. Why should she, after what
he'd done to her twelve years ago? Yet, he couldn't quite stifle the hope that suddenly surged through him.

Maggie moved toward him then, and he stood as she joined him, noting the slight flush on her cheeks. One more thing that hadn't changed, he tallied with pleasure. She still blushed. It was a quality he'd always found endearing.

“I wasn't sure you'd come back out.” He wadded the napkin in his fist.

She served the juice and muffins, avoiding his gaze. “Why wouldn't I?”

There was a moment of silence as he debated how to respond. “I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't.” Better to ignore her question.

She angled toward him, back straight, chin tipped up a fraction.

“Our relationship ended a long time ago.”

Jake eyed her. Debated whether to pursue the subject. Took the plunge. “Maybe so. But some things are hard to forget.”

A shadow crossed her eyes, come and gone so quickly he almost missed it. Anyone else would have. But once he had been attuned to the subtle nuances of her emotions. Apparently he still was. No matter what she said next, he knew that the hurt was still there, possibly buried so deep even
she
didn't realize it still existed. But it did, and his gut
twisted as he came face-to-face with the lingering effects of his actions twelve years before.

Instead of responding directly to his comment, she shrugged, and when she spoke, her tone was straightforward. “Life goes on, though. We all learn to cope.”

He wanted to ask if life had been good to her, if she'd found the happiness she deserved, if she'd had much trouble raising the twins…if her heart belonged to another man. She wore no ring. He'd noticed that right away. But you didn't ask someone personal questions after twelve years. Not when you'd long ago forfeited the right. He had to settle for a less probing query. “So you've managed all right, then, Maggie?”

Looking into his eyes—warm and compelling and intense—she remembered with a bittersweet pang how easily she used to get lost in his dark gaze. How, with a simple look, he could make her heart soar. And his eyes were still expressive, still powerful. But she wasn't susceptible to their magnetism anymore, wouldn't
let
herself be susceptible. A lot of things had changed. She'd changed. And this man, once the center of her world, was nothing more than a stranger to her now.

She tucked the tray under her arm and forced herself to smile. “Well, as you can see, I have a
business. The girls are well. We've done fine. I hope your career has been as satisfying as mine.”

“The navy has given me a good life. I have no regrets about that choice, anyway.”

But he had regrets about other choices? Maggie was tempted to ask. But resisted.

“Well, I have things to attend to. I hope your stay with us has been pleasant—”

The words died in her throat as he reached out and touched her arm.

“I know this situation is somewhat…awkward…but I can't help thinking our paths crossed again for some reason.” He paused, as if searching for words. Finally he drew a deep breath. “Look, I don't want to walk away without at least talking to you. Will you give me half an hour or so? For old times' sake, if nothing else?”

Maggie tried to ignore the entreaty in his eyes as she considered his request. But it was hard to engage the left side of her brain when the warmth of his hand was seeping through the sleeve of her blouse. What good would talking do after all these years? It seemed far…safer…to leave the past where it belonged—in the past.

But she had to admit that, like him, she was thrown by the odd coincidence that had brought them together. A coincidence so odd that it seemed somehow more than coincidence. She'd dreamed
of just such a “coincidence” more often than she cared to admit in the early years, when she was struggling to earn a living and cope with the challenges of single parenthood. There were so many times when a simple touch, a warm, caring hand holding hers, would have lightened her burden.

Instead, she had found hidden reserves of strength, spirit and determination that had seen her through the rough times. In the end, she'd made it on her own, and in so doing, discovered she was a capable and competent woman who didn't need to rely on a man to survive. The experience had bolstered her self-esteem, and she had learned to make choices and plans with confidence.

So why was Jake here now, long after she'd stopped dreaming? Why disrupt her world now, when she had not only resigned herself to a solitary life, but made her peace with it?

Maggie didn't have a clue. But neither could she ignore the strange coincidence.

She drew a deep breath and nodded. “All right. The girls can finish up the breakfast.”

His answering smile was warm and grateful—and relieved. “Thank you.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to make a quick call. Then we can talk.”

“You can use the drawing room. There shouldn't be anyone in there at this hour.”

He nodded. “I'll be right back.”

Maggie watched him leave, then sank down into the closest chair. Her seat afforded her a discreet view of the drawing room. He was turned slightly away from her as he used his cell, and she took advantage of the opportunity to observe him.

He'd filled out, the lanky frame she remembered maturing into a trim, well-toned body. The style of his dark brown hair was familiar, though shorter than it used to be. And a faint brush of silver at both temples gave him a distinguished air. The few lines on his face, which hadn't been there when they parted, spoke more of character than of age. Truth be told, he was even more handsome now than he had been twelve years ago.

But there was something else different about him, something beyond the physical that she couldn't quite put her finger on. A quiet confidence, a decisiveness, a sense of determination and purpose. It was reflected in his body language, in the very way he moved, as he hung up the phone and made a few quick notes. The Jake she had known was eager, restless and searching. This Jake was polished, self-assured and at peace with his place in the world.

And yet…there was a certain indefinable sadness in his eyes, a world-weariness, that tugged at her heart. It was almost as if he'd searched the
world for something, come up empty, and resigned himself to that fact.

Maggie had no idea where that insight came from, or even if it was accurate. Nor did she have a clue what it meant. Still, she knew instinctively there was a void of some sort in Jake's life that troubled his soul.

But the state of Jake's soul was
not
her concern, she reminded herself as he walked toward her. Her energies would be better focused on conducting a civil, rational conversation.

Jake smiled as he sat down across from her. “Well, that buys me an hour.”

“You have an appointment?”

“Mmm-hmm. But I wish I didn't.”

His comment, as well as the familiar tone in his voice, startled her. She didn't know how to respond, so she remained silent, aware that he was studying her.

“The years have been good to you, Maggie,” he said finally. “You look great.”

This wasn't at all the polite, impersonal conversation she'd expected, and the warm, husky note in his voice rattled her. “Th-thanks. So do you.” Darn that little stutter!

“So tell me about this place.” He made an all-encompassing gesture. “Have you been doing this long?”

That was more like it. Questions like that she could handle. “Eight years. I moved to Boston about a year after…” She started to say, “after you left,” but changed her mind. The less she talked about
them,
the better. “…after I got the twins. I worked in a graphic design firm there for three years. By then Abby was finished with all her operations and therapy, so there was less need to stay in a big city. And I thought it would be better for the girls to grow up in a small town. We'd visited Maine on vacation once and loved it, so we came up and looked around one summer. This place happened to be on the market at a good price. It had been vacant for a while, and even though it was structurally sound, it needed lots of cosmetic help and some updating. Before I knew it, I was the proud owner of a B&B. I did freelance design work for a while to tide us over until we established a clientele, and I still sell some of my watercolors to a greeting card company.”

She paused and took a deep breath. “The early years here were a little rough, and it took a lot more hard work than I expected to get established, but I've never regretted the move.”

Jake eyed her. “I'm impressed. It took a lot of courage to make such a radical lifestyle change. Not many people would have risked it.”

She shrugged, but his compliment pleased
her—much to her chagrin. “I did a lot of research before I made the move. This is a popular area, and the B&Bs do well. I drew up a pretty solid business plan, so it wasn't too difficult to get a loan for the necessary improvements. And I found ways to keep the capital expenditures reasonably low.”

Jake stared at the woman across from him, struggling to reconcile the Maggie he knew with this savvy businesswoman. His Maggie wouldn't have had a clue about business plans or capital expenditures. She'd changed even more than he suspected. But it wasn't an unpleasant change. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

Maggie narrowed her eyes at his reaction. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. It's just that the Maggie I remember had very little interest in business. I'm surprised, that's all.”

“The Maggie you knew didn't need to be interested in business. This one does.”

There was no hint of recrimination in her matter-of-fact tone, but the old, familiar guilt tugged at Jake's conscience. If he'd honored his commitment to her, Maggie wouldn't have had to struggle alone to build a life for herself and the twins. It couldn't have been easy, though she'd downplayed the difficulty. Which only made him admire her more.

“You seem to have done a good job. This place
appears to be very successful. And the twins seem like fine young women. Abby looks as if she's recovered fully from the accident.”

“She has. She needed two more operations after…after I took them in, and therapy after that for three years. But she's fine now.” She glanced toward the kitchen, her eyes softening. “They've been a tremendous help to me through the years. I couldn't have made this place a success without them. And they've brought a great deal of joy to my life.”

Now was the perfect opening to ask the question that was most on his mind. He reached for his coffee and took a sip, trying to phrase it the right way. “Has it just been the three of you all these years, then?”

Maggie turned and looked at him directly. “If you're asking me whether I'm married, or have ever been married, the answer is no.”

“Why not?” The indiscreet question came out before he could stop it, and warmth crept up the back of his neck. He shook his head and held up his hands. “Listen, forget I asked that, okay? It was way out of line.”

She toyed with the edge of a napkin, then gave a little shrug. “It's all right. The simple fact is, you weren't the only one who didn't want to take
on a ready-made family. Not to mention one with medical problems.”

He flinched. She'd scored a direct hit with that comment, whether she intended to or not. “I guess I deserved that.”

She frowned. “I didn't mean it that way. I was just stating a fact. My situation was a lot for anyone to take on, especially in the early years. And as time went by, I lost interest in romance. I have a nice life. Why should I change it? But tell me about you.” She shifted the focus before he could pursue the subject. “What are you doing here?”