Chasing the Sunset(12)
"Maggie," Nick said hoarsely. "You are safe here. I promise you that. I want you to know that you have a home here as long as you wish it."
As for Maggie, she stared at Nick and wondered what he would do if she told him the part of the story that she had left out, if he would still offer her a home. The part where she had killed her husband, and that she was sure to be hanged for his murder if they found her.
THREE
Maggie stood beside the water and watched the sun go down. She was done with her work for the day, and she was spending a few minutes in the now-familiar bower. She tried to slip away every day to come here, and in the two months since her life-changing encounter with Nick in this very place, she had missed only a few days.
Rays of gold shot out from behind a fluffy cloud and limned the blue with gold. It dappled the water with sparkling flecks of ochre. The color and spectacle of the dying sun was a study in azure and amber, so beautiful it made her ache.This picture that nature had drawn in the sky deserved a series of paintings all its own, and she studied the vision with the fervent joy of a condemned man. She always had the nagging feeling lately that she did not deserve to be this happy, that it all would be taken away from her, and so she threw herself headlong into each new experience, fearing to miss a sunrise, a sunset, the new puppies that Sadie the three-legged hound had in the stables. Maggie had gaped when she had first come across the homely, skinny dog in the stables, for she had never seen such a sight. Nick had told her that when Sadie was a puppy, she had been run over by a carriage. He had been so attached to the ugly little thing that he had taken her to Doctor Fell, who had amputated her crushed leg above the knee and fixed her other hurts. He was glad, he said, that he had done it, for Sadie was the best hunting dog that he had ever had, even with three legs, and a more loyal, loving hound could not be found in all of Missouri. She was renowned in this area, and folks came from miles around just for the chance to get one of her puppies.
The evening breeze kissed her face and ruffled her skirt around her ankles, and Maggie closed her eyes and raised her face, loving the way everything felt when she could not see. When she closed her eyes, all her other senses exploded in delight, making scents and touch ever so very much more potent. The air smelled of warm grass and pine, and she drew the scent deeply into her lungs. She opened her mouth, trying to taste the wind, wondering what flavor it would leave on her tongue. Would it be sweet or sour, salty or bitter? A tart crispness burst on her tongue, reminding her of the sips of wine her mother used to give her at special occasions. She laughed softly, knowing that no wine had ever tasted this good. Maggie hugged her arms around herself and did a little dance of sheer delight. Life was so precious, and she wanted to drink it all up, dance it all up, live it all up. One day she might wake from this beautiful dream, and she wanted plenty of memories to comfort her when that happened. Life was turning into a great big series of wonderful surprises, and she could not wait to stick her hand down into it and drag something else out to play with. She did not want to follow rules that seemed wrong anymore, do things that were contrary to what she believed. She was not safe, no-one ever was despite what they might think, and she would rather be filled with joy and uncertainty for one minute than spend eternity in a fog of gray.
She scuffed her bare feet in the warm grass on her way back to the house, boots dangling from the tips of her finger. A smile just barely turned up the corners of her mouth; her gait was languid and slow, her hips rolling in a way that set Nick’s blood to pumping as he watched her from the end of the path.
His brows drew together in a scowl as he watched her; with her hair mussed and her clothes in disarray, she looked entirely too good to him, as if she had just come from her lover’s bed, and it made him angry that he could not control the sudden upsurge of desire he felt whenever he was in her presence. He was a grown man, for pity’s sake, and he felt seventeen again, always hiding his arousal behind something and praying that no-one would notice. He was as grumpy as a bear with a sore paw, snapping and snarling at anyone who dared to come near, and he was tired as hell of that, too. He knew that he was being a stupid bastard, and he could not seem to stop that, either. He hated this, hated this feeling of not being in command of his own body and thoughts.
Ned had practically told him to go to hell this morning, and Kathleen, that fount of cheerfulness, who never had a harsh word to say to anyone except in jest, had told him to clean up his own damned office if he was going to be so rude. Then she had stomped out, her spine straight as a poker and her sturdy legs pumping so purposefully that they had sent her skirts swinging wildly around her. He grinned to himself, tickled all of a sudden by the memory. Somewhere along the way in her growing up, she had learned restraint. The last time Kathleen had got that angry with him, she had thrown half the contents of the library at him. ‘Course, she had only been eight at the time and he ten, and he had put a bug down her dress, so he had deserved it. He had got a terrible whipping from his mother, along with a lecture on the proper treatment of women, and Kathleen had been sent home early. Come to think of it, he was lucky that she had not thrown the whole library at him this time, because he had the sneaking suspicion that he deserved it.
Maggie looked up and saw him, and a beautiful smile burst into life on her face. Nick felt a pang in his heart at the open welcome apparent on her features. She was absolutely incapable of subterfuge; everything she thought, everything she said, and everything she did was refreshingly honest. There was not a false bone in her whole beautiful body, and she was breaking Nick’s heart. He did not want to believe in her, did not want to believe that any woman could be so genuine and guileless, but Maggie flew through the days like a happy child, running everywhere, excited at every new experience.
Once she had bared her emotions to him on that morning, they had come spilling out in a torrent, and now they just kept coming. She was full of laughter, and love, and delight in the world, and he was afraid for her. She obviously adored him, her new best friend, and he did not want to disappoint her, did not want to make that light in her pretty green eyes go away. She came running to him in the stables ten times a day, eager to show him something, or tell him something, or just to hug Tommy, who soaked up all the attention like a little sponge.
Nick tried to tamp down his desires, tried to put out the fires that burned inside of him, and it was not working. He stared at her so often and so hungrily that every person who saw him look at her knew his innermost thoughts. The only person who did not seem to know what was eating him up was Maggie, and he did not want her to know. He knew that she had been through horrors that he could not even imagine, with that sick, perverted husband of hers, and he did not want to ever again see her look like she did when she had first arrived, all skinny and about to jump out of her skin. He knew that she could not handle what ran through his mind every time he looked at her, with what she had been through, and he was not about to scare her. But her very presence seemed to set his skin on fire and suck all the air from his lungs; he could barely breathe when she was near. Even if it killed him, he would not lay a hand on the girl, he thought grimly. And it just might be the death of him, he thought as she ran toward him now. It just might.
Maggie could not stop the un-ladylike grin that spread across her features when she saw Nick any more than she could stop her steps from quickening as she hastened toward him. She was happy to see him, and what was wrong with that? And being that she was happy to see him, what was wrong with showing it? She laughed out loud with the sheer joy of being alive, of being in the company of this handsome man who was her friend.
“Nick!” she cried. “I vow, the sunset this evening was the most gorgeous I have ever seen. You should have been here.” A smile lit up his austere features, lightening the lines of strain that pulled them tight.
Truly, he is the most handsome man I have ever seen, Maggie thought. Those brown eyes look at me and make me want to melt into a puddle at his feet, like ice on a hot day. Her eyes flicked over him, noting the droplets of sweat that stained his shirt and beaded on his neck. I would like to lick those off, she thought dreamily. I wonder what he would taste like? She blushed to the roots of her hair with the thought, wondering where it came from. Her husband had cured her permanently of any sexual curiosity, she had thought, and she wondered now why the thought of that with Nick did not lately raise in her the disgust she usually associated with the act. In fact, the idea of it sent a hot flush through her, made parts of her ache in a way that she had never felt before. Her pulse thumped, she felt weak, and she had the strangest sort of feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had the oddest urge to lean up against Nick, to rub on him like a cat, to feel his skin touch hers. It would soothe her, somehow, to have him touching her.
Nick could read the dawning interest in her eyes, and he cursed silently.Her thoughts were as clearly visible to him as if someone had written them all over her forehead. Transparent as glass, she was, and innocent as a newborn babe to boot, once married or not. That old deviate had taught her nothing about physical desire, that was for sure, and she was a young, healthy girl, was his Maggie . . . Christ, I cannot take this, he thought. It is hard enough to not touch her as it is, and now this! She was beginning to get inquisitive about the things that went on between men and women, and she was looking to the one person available to her to explain it.