Читать книгу Special Deliveries Collection - Kate Hardy - Страница 61

Brady’s lips were pressed against hers, firm and questing. Maggie couldn’t help but part hers on a sigh, surrendering to the pent-up passion.

Until her mind butted in with the reminder that this was some other woman’s man. In New York, she hadn’t known, but now…

She pushed her hands on Brady’s chest, breaking the connection. His eyes were hazy and confused.

“What about…” She searched for the name she’d heard today. “Jules?”

His eyebrows drew together. “What about Jules?”

“Wow.” Her hands were on his chest and she could feel the muscle beneath her fingertips. Heat flushed her cheeks, remembering how his naked skin felt pressed against hers. She pulled her hands away from the fire that he ignited in her. Crossing her arms to keep them from checking out other muscles, she looked down her nose at him as she tried to rally her indignation. “Your girlfriend?”

Brady had the audacity to appear genuinely confused. “Jules?”

“I’m not stupid.” Though she was starting to wonder about him. “I heard you on the phone today. You said you were dating.”

Clarity transformed his face into a grin. “Aah.”

“Do you typically kiss other women when you date someone these days? Because I can tell you, I’m not okay with that.” Maggie wished she’d felt that way the minute his lips touched hers, but they hummed with pleasure and longed to jump right back into kissing.

“I’m not dating Jules.” He closed the distance between them.

She backed up a step on the porch stairs. “I’m not a fool. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’m available.”

“Are you involved with someone?” He stepped onto the bottom step, bringing their bodies within touching distance again. Even though the night was cooling rapidly, his heat curled out from his body and wrapped itself around her.

“I’m not a cheater,” she said in her best holier-than-thou voice.

His wolfish grin hit her below the belt. His gaze roamed over her possessively. She almost stumbled trying to get up another step.

“Just because your girlfriend isn’t here doesn’t make you available.” She held her chin a little higher, proud that she hadn’t crumpled under the power of the attraction between them.

“Jules isn’t my girlfriend.” He stepped again and they were eye to eye, chest to chest.

“But you said—”

“I said she could tell Peterson, a coworker of ours, that we were dating so that he’d stop asking her out. He won’t take no for an answer.” He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. His hand slipped behind her neck and every nerve in her body tingled in response. “I wouldn’t betray her or you in that way, Maggie.”

“Oh.” Her brain completely shut down on her. The blue of his eyes held her hypnotized, waiting for his next move. Her whole body was a shiver of anticipation.

“Found it!” Amber shouted through the door. Brady touched his forehead to hers. “To be continued.”

Brady sat at the table as Amber leafed through the pages of a scrapbook. Maggie had followed him in and disappeared.

“I wasn’t allowed to have a dog, but Nana let me put the stickers on this page, anyway.” Amber pointed at the little stickers of dogs surrounding a picture of Amber and Mrs. Brown.

“We have a dog out at the farm. His name is Barnabus.” Brady tried to not get distracted wondering where Maggie was and if she’d felt the same powerful draw that he had.

“I’ve never been on a farm. Is it like the zoo?” Amber turned the page. “See, we went to the zoo. It took a really long time to get there.”

“Never been on a farm?” Brady needed to stay focused on Amber.

Amber tucked her dark hair behind her ear. A motion he’d seen Maggie do at least a dozen times. “Billy has a farm, but I’m not friends with him.”

“We’ll have to fix that.” Brady pointed to a picture of Maggie with a monkey. “Did you take this?”

“Yeah, Mommy said it was silly, but I liked the picture.” She closed the scrapbook and met his eyes. “Would you take me to your farm?”

“It’s not my farm,” he said automatically. “My brother runs it, but I grew up there. I’d love to show you around.”

“This weekend?” Amber gave him a pleading smile and put her hands together. “Do you have horses?”

“Maybe. We don’t have horses.”

Amber gazed intently at his eyes. “You have the same color of eyes that I do.”

Brady held his breath. Would she make the connection?

“Time for bed, baby,” Maggie called from the other room.

“Will I see you tomorrow? Please, please, please, say yes.”

“I’ll try. I have some work to get done, but I’ll be over after. Especially if your mother is cooking.” He tweaked her nose with his finger.

Amber giggled and gave him a hug around his shoulders from behind him before running upstairs.

He took in a breath. This was familiar, yet foreign to him. Nights at the Ward farm had always been slow and easy, but nothing about his life since Tawnee Valley had been slow or easy. It was hard to remember how it felt to relax.

“You’ll be by tomorrow?” Maggie swept past him to the kitchen sink and started filling it with water.

“Planning on it.” He scrubbed his face, suddenly tired. “Can I help?”

“Sure.” Her voice was tight.

He took the drying towel and waited while she washed a few dishes. How many nights had he spent with his mother, helping with the dishes? The silence between Maggie and him was comfortable and distracting at the same time. How could he recapture that moment on the porch steps? And if he did, would he have the energy to follow through?

They finished the dinner dishes. She scrubbed the counters while he dried the last dish.

She took the towel from him and hung it before turning out the kitchen light. “You’ll think about what I said? About telling Amber?”

“Yes.” Brady followed her through the dining room to the front door where she held it open. Apparently, she didn’t want to pick up where they’d left off on the porch steps. Maybe she was as exhausted as he felt.

“She needs to know.” Maggie finally met his gaze.

What he wouldn’t give to wipe away the weariness from her. To ease her burden.

“I’ll tell her. I promise.”

“More promises.” She half smiled.

“Promises I intend to keep.” Brady stepped close, but she retreated when he lifted his hand toward her.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.” Her face was stern, but there was a breathless quality to her voice that encouraged him.

“Not tonight,” Brady said.

“Not ever.” Maggie leaned against the wall. “I’m tired, Brady. I can’t play this cat-and-mouse game as well as you can. I’m attracted to you.”

He didn’t move, sensing the “but” behind her words. “I’m attracted to you, too.”

“I can’t be what makes you go away.” Her face flushed and her bottom lip trembled.

“I don’t understand…” Why would she worry about that?

“My dad left when I was six.” Her face went blank as if she felt nothing, but he could feel the pain underscoring every word. “I thought Mom had driven him away and I hated her for a while. Then I thought it was my fault and I hated myself for it.”

“I wouldn’t do that to Amber.” He started to reach out but she flinched away. “Or you.”

“You don’t know that. I don’t know that.” She straightened. “We are much better off as friends. That way this doesn’t get confused into something it’s not. It never was.”

Her smile had a touch of sadness to it. He wanted to reassure her, but he didn’t know how much of himself he could give…to Amber or to her. When things had gotten rough in the past, he’d run. How could he guarantee he wouldn’t do the same now?

Maybe this was for the best. He nodded. “It never was.”

Her smile vanished though she tried to hold on to it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Brady stepped out of the house and the weight of the world crashed down on his shoulders. He had people relying on him in New York and people relying on him in Tawnee Valley. Part of him wanted to run away, hide in his work. But as he settled into his rented car, he glanced up as the porch light turned off. Maggie stood silhouetted in the doorway.

No, this time he’d be the brave one. This time he’d build a relationship with his daughter and make sure that it didn’t fall apart when something major happened. He’d be her rock, the way Maggie’s father should have been for her. He wouldn’t run.

The week turned out to be more hectic than Brady had estimated. Contractors had change orders. Reports had to be in on time. Jules was barely staying afloat.

It was Wednesday and he’d sworn to Maggie and Amber that he’d be by today, but someone above must have a sense of humor, because everything was falling apart at work.

The sun beat on his head as he tried to shield the screen of his laptop. He had his earpiece firmly in and was listening in on a conference Peterson had called.

“We need to increase the budget by at least five hundred thousand dollars to make sure the project doesn’t have overages,” Peterson said.

“The budget is fine as is and with all the current work orders inputted, we should have a small bit of excess left over in case of another change,” Jules said. “An increase is uncalled for. What we have is sufficient.”

Brady glanced up at the sound of a truck coming down the old country road. The only place on the farm that received decent reception was at the top of the driveway near the mailbox. Cars rarely came this way, but a lot of farm equipment went past. Of course, if the driver caught a glimpse of Brady, they would stop and chat for at least ten minutes.

The mail truck came around the corner and stopped at the box.

“Brady, didn’t your mother ever teach you to wear a hat?” Betsy Griffin tipped her postal cap at him. “You’ll get those good looks burnt right off ya.”

Brady muted the conference. “If mine gets messed up at least there are two more just like me.”

Betsy chuckled and tucked a strand of gray hair up into her cap.

“You tell that brother of yours that his mutt has been up to no good. There are about five puppies on my farm that look an awful lot like that shaggy dog of his.”

“I’ll let him know.”

“You take care now.” Betsy tipped her cap and drove off.

Brady and Sam had managed to maintain a good distance from each other. Sam was always out of the house by the time Brady got going in the morning. He couldn’t afford to get into it with Sam if he wanted to stay.

He glanced at his screen and unmuted his phone.

“Brady?” Jules’s voice sounded concerned.

“I’m here.”

“Did we get cut off?”

“No. Someone stopped by. Meeting over?” Brady eyed the time. If he was going to see Amber tonight, he’d need to wrap up quickly.

“Yes.”

“What did I miss?”

Jules filled him in on the proposed changes and how she’d fought to keep the budget the same. Peterson had backed down at the end. Brady could almost hear the triumph in her voice.

“If you need anything, text me nine-one-one and I’ll call you.” Brady closed his laptop and put it in the bag. “Anything at all.”

“Spend time with your daughter. I’ll see you when you get back to New York.” Jules hung up.

Brady stretched as he stood and looked over the old farmhouse and the land surrounding it. The brothers had spent many days working the fields and helping their father make the most out of the land they had. Generations of Wards had worked these fields before them. Now it all fell to Sam.

The house needed a coat of paint, but the barn looked in good repair. Instead of being held together by whatever scraps their father could find, it looked as though Sam had gone through and made the barn a solid structure.

Unlike Sam, who seemed to thrive on the farm, Brady had never belonged here. Even when he had been at the top of his game in high school, he’d felt as if something was missing. He collected the mail and headed down the drive.

Being in England hadn’t helped. He hadn’t found anywhere that made him feel whole. Like a puzzle with a piece missing, he kept trying to fill it with work and accomplishments, but it didn’t seem to help. Each step forward made him want to reach for the next level.

The screen door screeched as he opened it. Inside the house it was cool with the windows open and the lights out. He flung the mail on the kitchen table and started to set his bag on the chair when he caught sight of an envelope with red on it.

FINAL NOTICE. Brady snatched the bill and sank into the kitchen chair.

“Sam?” he yelled.

No one answered. Sam must be down in the field or in the barn. Brady tore open the envelope and stared at the balance. He shifted through the other mail and found a few more overdue bills.

He stormed out the back door and crossed to the barn. Soundgarden’s “Fell on Black Days” blasted from the garage in the back. The garage smelled of oil and gasoline, bringing forward the memory of his father, leaning over their old truck’s engine while Brady, barely Amber’s age, sat on the toolbox ready to hand him a tool, loving every moment of his father’s attention.

“What is this?” Brady demanded as he hit the off button on the dirt-coated boom box.

Sam rolled out from under the tractor on the creeper their father had always used. His face was smeared with grease and sweat. He glanced at the notices in Brady’s hands. “None of your business.”

He rolled back under the tractor.

“I sent money. How did you get behind?” Brady moved around the tractor, trying to see Sam’s face.

Sam stayed under the tractor and swiped at his face with an old rag that was too dirty to do any good. His blue coveralls had rips in one knee and were badly in need of a wash. He dropped the wrench and grabbed a screwdriver.

“Dammit, Sam. This is something you need to pay attention to. You can’t ignore these and hope they’ll go away.” The balance on the bill in Brady’s hand was a couple of thousand alone. But combined with the others and the ones he didn’t know about, it could be a hefty sum. “They could force you to file bankruptcy.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Sam grumbled.

“If you need money, I can help—”

“Money?” Sam rolled out from under the tractor and sat with his arms resting on his knees. The expression on Sam’s face said Brady was being ignorant. “And that will solve everything?”

“In this case…” Brady looked pointedly at the bill. “Yes.”

“Do you remember how to work?” Sam pushed to his feet and dropped the screwdriver into a metal tool chest with a loud clang before slamming the drawer shut.

“I work every day—”

“Behind that little computer of yours. Pushing buttons.” Sam made little typing motions in the air before he jerked open another drawer and pulled out a socket wrench.

“And I make money doing it. I use my brains and not my brute strength. I create jobs for people.” Brady met Sam’s gaze. He wasn’t going to give in on this. What he did was important. It took a lot of effort to coordinate the projects to make sure everything went smoothly and according to plan.

“And I don’t use my brain?” Sam tapped the socket wrench against his hand, lightly.

“It’s different and it doesn’t change the fact that you are swimming in a sea of debt that this farm can’t sustain.”

“How would you know?” Sam dropped down on the rolling cart, planting his feet firmly on the concrete floor. “What do you know about farming?”

Brady opened his mouth and closed it. He’d been away for eight years. Though he’d helped Mom balance the bank accounts and been the one to figure out their father’s will and hers, he knew nothing about what the finances were now.

“It took Dad, you, me and Luke to keep this farm running on a regular basis during the summer. If the farm had a good year with sufficient rain for The crops and the coyotes didn’t get too much of the livestock, we made ends meet.” Sam pointed the socket wrench at Brady. “The money you sent helped pay for part of this barn.”

“I sent a hell of a lot more money than—”

“And you had a child that needed taking care of.”

“If I’d known about my child, I would have taken care of her.”

“I didn’t need the money.” Sam acted as if Brady hadn’t said anything. “We were doing fine. Luke was home for the summers for a few years. But then he got busy with med school. I had to pay for someone to come and work our farm.” Sam cracked his neck. “I fell behind a little. Sue me.”

Sam disappeared under the tractor. Brady wasn’t ready to push the fact that Sam had kept Amber a secret. Losing the farm was too important. It would have destroyed his parents.

Brady couldn’t erase time and return to Tawnee Valley eight years ago and hang around to help out. He couldn’t erase what had happened to Maggie, Sam or Amber. All he could do was offer the future.

“Let me look over your books,” Brady said.

“What? So you can tell me what I’m doing wrong?” The sound of metal hitting metal emanated through the garage.

“What do you think I’ve been doing the past eight years?”

“Besides getting soft?”

“Working on budgets and figuring out how to minimize spending and maximize profits.” Brady started to lean against the workbench, but when a daddy longlegs shuffled past, he decided against it. “If you won’t take my money, at least let me figure out a payment plan, so you can find your way out of this hole without losing the farm.”

“I won’t lose the farm.” Not even a hint of fear in Saint Sam’s voice, but there was an underlying tightness. “You weren’t the only one with plans. I was at college when Mom got sick, but I gave that up for her, you and Luke. And when Mom died and left Luke to me, I made you go to college, follow your dreams. Figuring you’d find your way home eventually. Guess I was wrong about that.”

“I never meant to dump that on you,” Brady bit out. He’d struggled with the guilt, but he’d known he had to go his own way.

“This farm has been in our family for over a century. I won’t lose it now.” Sam banged something with the wrench. The sound of metal against metal reverberated in the space.

“Just let me look it over.” Brady felt as though he was ten trying to convince twelve-year-old Sam to let him have a turn with the basketball.

Sam rolled out and wiped his hands on the dirty rag. “Only if you get off your damn high horse and make yourself useful around here.”

“Do you have any idea how much work I have to do?” Brady could feel his face getting redder by the second. Between Maggie’s demands and Sam’s, he wouldn’t be able to get any work done on the Detrex project.

“I’m sure there’s someone as fancy as you working up there in New York, getting things done just fine without you.” Sam stood and took the bill from Brady’s hands. He glanced over it with his usual stoic face.

Fighting with Sam was as fruitless as fighting with Maggie. He’d done them both a disservice and owed them a little of his time in payment. he had left his brother when he needed him most. Sam had raised Luke, no matter how much Brady tried to justify that he’d been away at school. He could have gone to a college closer, so he could help whenever needed. But he’d let his pain control him, and New York hadn’t been far enough away. He’d had to detach himself so much that he hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with anyone from Tawnee Valley except for Luke. Even then, Luke had been the one contacting him, not the other way around.

Maybe he could make up for the time that he’d lost by helping out. He glanced at his watch and wondered what Maggie was doing.

Brady sighed. “Just tell me what needs to be done.”