Читать книгу Pregnant By The Colton Cowboy - Lara Lacombe - Страница 9

Chapter 2

Three months later...

“Doing okay in here?”

Maggie looked up to find Mac standing in the doorway of his office, his light brown eyes friendly and warm. She nodded, but the sight of him made her stomach drop. He looks so much like Thorne!

Hoping her distress didn’t show, she offered him a small smile. “I should be done soon, and then you can have your office back.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” Mac propped his shoulder against the door frame and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I just wanted to check on you. You seem a little...off today.”

Apparently she wasn’t as good of an actress as she’d hoped. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine,” she said. “Just tired. Work has been keeping me busy.” It was the truth—mostly. She had been feeling exhausted lately, and to make matters worse, she’d been dealing with a constant, low-level nausea that had turned her off most food. She made a mental note to schedule a doctor’s appointment soon. Having dealt with endometriosis for the last fifteen years, Maggie was used to a certain amount of regular physical discomfort. But she knew from experience it was better to try to get ahead of the problem than to wait and allow it to get worse.

“Staying busy is a nice problem to have, especially when you work for yourself,” Mac joked.

Maggie nodded again and leaned back a little in the chair. “It definitely is. I’m not complaining, believe me.”

Mac studied her for a moment, his gaze searching as if he suspected she wasn’t telling him the full truth. His scrutiny was kind, and under other circumstances, Maggie probably would have opened up to him. But not this time.

“I’ll let you finish up,” he said, pushing off the jamb and straightening. “I hope you know that if you ever need a sympathetic ear, I’ve got two.”

“Thanks, Mac.” Tears prickled her eyes and she blinked hard, turning back to the computer in the hopes of hiding her reaction. She heard his footsteps as he walked away and let her shoulders slump. Mac was a sweet man but she couldn’t talk to him about her problems.

Not when they all centered around his son.

Thorne hadn’t said one word to her since that night three months ago, unless you counted hello and goodbye and “let me find Mac for you.” And she didn’t. Those were the polite sentence fragments strangers used, not the language of two people who had shared their bodies with each other.

Even now, a shiver of arousal tripped down her spine at the memory of that night. Being with Thorne had been amazing. Their chemistry had been electric, with none of the awkward fumbling that often accompanied her first time with a man. She and Thorne had moved in a seamless rhythm, as if they had read each other’s minds and knew exactly where to touch, how to move to give and receive pleasure. She’d never felt such a profound physical and emotional connection with a man before—being with Thorne had truly rocked her world.

Which had made it all the more painful when he’d pulled away from her in the days after their encounter.

It had been three months since that night, and in all that time, they’d only exchanged a handful of words. Her calls to him had gone unreturned, and when she’d dropped by the ranch to talk to him, he’d been “too busy” to see her. Maggie hadn’t been expecting a proposal or a declaration of undying love, but she didn’t understand why Thorne was giving her the cold shoulder. At first, she’d thought he was feeling shy. After all, things had gotten intimate very quickly and it was possible he was a little unsure of how to act now that the nature of their relationship had changed. But every time Maggie saw him he seemed to go out of his way to avoid talking to her. It didn’t take long for her to get the message that he wasn’t interested.

Ordinarily, she would let it go and try to move on with her life. But Thorne’s current behavior was so at odds with the way he’d treated her that night that she couldn’t stop wondering where things had gone wrong.

Had she said something? They hadn’t really done much talking, but perhaps she’d made a comment in an unguarded moment that had rubbed him the wrong way. If that was the case though, why hadn’t he bothered to tell her? She felt a flare of irritation that straightened her spine. If Thorne was upset with her, the least he could do was respect her enough to tell her why. This wasn’t junior high; they were both adults, and he needed to act like one.

It was the lack of closure that bothered her the most. If she knew what he was thinking, why he had changed his mind, it would be easier for her to move on. But his silence only provided space for her imagination to run wild, conjuring all sorts of explanations for his sudden reversal. She was tempted to force the issue, to grab his arm the next time she saw him and drag him into an empty room so they could talk. She deserved to know why he was treating her like a stranger! But something told her even if she did manage to catch Thorne alone, he wouldn’t open up to her.

“It’s better this way,” she murmured. After their night together, her crush on Thorne had morphed into a full blown infatuation. Even now, her heart ached at the thought of what might have been between them and the relationship they could have built together. But she deserved better than to be treated like a mistake. She deserved a man who wasn’t ashamed to be with her, who was proud to stand by her side and wanted to be a part of her life. She had hoped Thorne was that man, and it would take time to deal with her disappointment at finding out he wasn’t. At least she had found out his true feelings for her before she’d fallen all the way into the emotional quicksand of love. His silent rejection hurt, but she had learned a valuable lesson. The next time she met a man, she wouldn’t be so quick to involve her heart.

Working quickly, she put the finishing touches on Mac’s books and shut down her laptop. She really needed to talk Mac into moving his records and paperwork to a digital filing system—that way, he could simply email her the information and she wouldn’t have to come out to the ranch every few months. Although it was nice to get out of Shadow Creek and to see the horses and cattle up close, with her growing client list she simply couldn’t afford the commute time.

And if she was being truly honest with herself, she didn’t want to risk seeing Thorne.

She put on a brave face every time their paths crossed, which fortunately wasn’t often. But it was hard to pretend like nothing was wrong, and it was equally difficult to keep her anger and frustration bottled up inside. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold her tongue, and the last thing she wanted was to make a scene at Mac’s ranch; she couldn’t let her personal problems interfere with her professional duties.

“That’s what I get for mixing business with pleasure,” she muttered to herself. Lesson learned.

Maggie rose and slid the computer into its bag, then glanced around to make sure she’d gathered up everything. The place was orderly as always, the afternoon sun glinting off the metal handles of the filing cabinets that lined the far wall of the office. Maybe it was a little ridiculous to ask Mac to change a system he’d spent twenty years using, but in the end it would make his life easier.

Change was good, even though it was sometimes difficult.

She stepped out of the office into the barn and took a deep breath. Even though she was a city girl, Maggie had always loved the smell of a barn; the sweet scent of hay, the warm whiff of the horses and the potent tang of manure all combined in an instantly recognizable and deeply appealing aroma. Being in the barn, even if only for a few moments, had a relaxing effect on her.

At least, it normally did.

For the first time, Maggie wrinkled her nose at the familiar odors. Something seemed off about the smell—the hay emitted a sickly sweet fume that nearly gagged her. And the horse sweat had a musky tang that turned her stomach. But it was the scent of apples that sent her running out of the barn in search of fresh air; something about the combination of food and manure curdled her earlier cup of coffee and caused bile to rise in her throat.

She took a deep breath and was assaulted this time by the smell of fresh-cut grass. But at least it was better than the olfactory overload of the barn. Shaking her head, Maggie headed for her car. Its pearlescent white paint sparkled subtly in the sun, a contrast to the dull red of her previous ride. It still felt a little strange to walk out of a building and not see her old sedan waiting for her, but she had to admit, the new car smell was pretty nice.

A movement by the trunk caught her eye and she glanced over in time to see a bird take flight from her trunk, squawking in protest. That in itself was not unusual, but something still seemed strange...

Maggie slowed her pace and squinted at the trunk, trying to put her finger on what she was seeing. Finally, it hit her—the air above her car was shimmering, bending and moving in the liquid, languid dance of heat. She normally saw it in the summer, when the superheated asphalt seemed to melt the air above the road. But why was it happening now?

As she watched, a thin tendril of smoke curled into the air, the wisp so fine she would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking. Realization and shock slammed into her, followed quickly by disbelief. Her car was on fire! But how was that possible?

She glanced around the yard, searching wildly for something she could use to douse the flames. There was a water trough just inside the barn and she ran for it, dropping her computer bag in the dirt.

“Help!” Her mind raced as she searched for something, anything she could use to carry water back to her car. She needed the fire department, but they would take too long to get here. Maybe she could dump enough water on her trunk to put the fire out before it spread? But why was it on fire in the first place? Cars didn’t spontaneously ignite...

“Help!” she yelled again. Where was everyone?

“Maggie?” She heard her name, barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears. There was a bucket sitting a few feet away, full of grain. She dumped it out and scooped up water from the trough.

“My car,” she yelled, not bothering to look back. “Call the fire department!”

She ran back outside, water sloshing over the sides of the bucket and soaking her clothes. Smoke was pouring out of her trunk in earnest now, the stench of it filling the air and burning her nose. There was a shout behind her but before she could respond, the world exploded in a ball of heat and light.