He looked at her, running an unamused glance over her face. “You’ll stay.”
“No.” She was not going to bend to his will. “If I must stay overnight, I prefer to do it in my brother’s house.”
He frowned. “From what I’ve heard, a rat wouldn’t sleep there. The place has deteriorated badly since you left. So has your brother.”
Maggie left the dining room and made directly for the front door, her steps quickening in haste. Chase made no attempt to stop her as she left the house and descended the steps to the rental car. Maggie made the long drive to her brother’s in a numbed state, not sure what she’d find when she got there.
But Chase’s description hadn’t prepared her for the sight of the dilapidated buildings that looked ready to collapse with the first strong wind. It didn’t look as if there had been an attempt to repair anything in years. The house, her childhood home, looked abandoned.
It had never been much to begin with, but now windows were broken, half of the steps were gone, and the porch floor was rotted and partially caved in. Maggie gingerly picked her way to the door, standing open. The smell that greeted her was nauseatingly rotten. Covering her mouth, she took a cautious step inside. It was dark and dirty. She reached for the light switch by the door, but nothing happened. Cautiously, she moved sideways, feeling her way until she found a lamp. No light came on when she pulled its chain. There was no electricity in the house. Something scurried in the shadows and Maggie recoiled from the sound. This wasn’t a home; it was a pest-hole. She shuddered and retreated to the door, sickened because her brother lived in this.
Outside, she inhaled the blessed freshness of the air and looked around. The high heels she wore made an investigation of the other buildings impractical unless she wanted to risk twisting an ankle on the rough ground. She called her brother’s name, but didn’t expect an answer. She waited in the car for over an hour before she finally gave up. She didn’t want to be here when it got dark.
As she drove away, Maggie was appalled by the state of the house. First her mother, then she, had slaved to make it habitable, although neither her father nor brother had ever seemed to appreciate the effort. There were a few home truths to be faced about her family, but she wasn’t prepared to face them head-on just yet.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the cemetery and stopped the car to reverse it to the turn-in. Getting out of the car, Maggie climbed the grassy knoll and paused beside her mother’s grave. No conscious thought crossed her mind. A cold wind finally stirred her awareness of the lengthening shadow cast by the headstone. It was late and Ty would be returning soon.
Moving stiffly, she began descending the narrow pathway between the graves. The ground was fairly smooth, but she watched where she was walking until an inner sense warned her that she was being watched. Maggie paused, lifting her gaze.
A pickup was parked beside her car. Chase was leaning against the bed of the truck, smoking a slim cigarillo. Something told her that he had been waiting there a long time. Pushing away from the truck, he crushed the smoke under his heel and came forward to meet her. Without saying a word, he turned to walk beside her, curving a large hand under her elbow to support and guide her. Numb and somewhat robotlike, Maggie let him escort her to the truck.
The touch of his hand on her hip when he helped her inside the cab burned away her apathy. She turned her head to look at him. He stood in the doorway, one hand on the truck frame and the other holding the door. His look was quietly assessing and astute.
“It hasn’t been much of a homecoming for you, has it?” he murmured.
Gazing into that hard, virile face, Maggie was swept away by the memory of their days of joyful abandonment. She wanted to reach out and grab a piece of that careless joy she had once known, recapture the brilliant sunshine that had lightened her world. Something flickered in his eyes, as if he could read the thoughts in her expression. It brought her back to reality.
“Leave me alone.” Her voice was flat, dead.
With an indifferent lift of his shoulders, he closed the passenger’s door and walked around to climb behind the wheel. As he started the motor and began to turn onto the highway, Maggie noticed the rental car parked beside them.
“The car—” she began.
“I’ll send one of the boys to get it.”
As they drove through town, Maggie noticed the restaurant sign at the refurbished Jake’s Place. “When did Jake open a restaurant?”
“Jake sold the place four years ago. The new owner remodeled it into a restaurant.”
“Who owns it?” When there wasn’t an immediate answer to her question, she glanced at him, wondering if there was some significance to his hesitation.
“A woman named Sally Brogan.” He sounded preoccupied with other matters.
Maggie let the silence ride for a few miles. “What were you doing at the cemetery, waiting for me?”
“I saw your car parked there, so I stopped. I was on my way to your brother’s to get you. It crossed my mind that you just might be stubborn enough to stay there, and it isn’t a fit place for a lady.” He
let his gaze stray from the highway to briefly rest on her, skimming over her. “Yes, you did achieve your ambition of becoming a lady: elegant, sophisticated, contained, hardly a hair out of place.”
“You don’t sound impressed.” His tone had almost been insulting.
“Maybe I’m wondering if there’s anything left of the girl I knew, or whether she’s been polished out of existence.” He stared down the road, his head tipped to the side. “I remember one time when I got carried away while I was making love to you and got a little rough. You started nipping me—hard. When I complained, you told me that if I wanted to play rough, so would you.” Cynicism curled the corners of his mouth. “I wonder what you would do today. Yawn?”
Maggie turned away. For the rest of the drive she stared out the passenger’s window, her elbow resting on the windowframe and her fist pressed against her mouth.
That night at the dinner table, Maggie faced Chase across the length of the table, while Ty sat, symbolically, halfway between them on the right side. At the moment he was wearing a clean white shirt and dark dress pants, and looked like her son. But when he’d walked in the door that evening, he had seemed almost a stranger, outfitted in dusty Western garb. Initially, Ty had been ill at ease with her, aware that he had hurt her when he ran away, but when she failed to mention anything about it, he began to eagerly relate his adventures of the last two days. Chase sat complacently at the head of the table while Ty proved all his points, letting the boy’s enthusiasm beat at her.
Gradually, Maggie worked their California home into the conversation, mentioning Ty’s friends and the jumping horses he showed. His replies became briefer until he wasn’t talking at all. That’s when she began asking him directly if he was prepared to give up his friends, his home, his life in California.