He laughed. “Of course.”
It occurred to Maggie that she’d never sat across a kitchen table and shared small talk with a man whose hair was still damp. It was nice, she thought. It was one of those little rituals that was woven into the fabric of married life and gave comfort…like a good cup of coffee first thing in the morning or the fifteen-minute break to read the newspaper and sort through the day’s mail.
Maggie watched the man sitting across from her, and a pleasurable emotion curled in her stomach. It would be easy to believe the marriage was real, easy to become used to this simple intimacy.
“I like your house,” she said. “Has it always been in your family?”
“My Great-grandfather Mallone built it. He ran this place as a dairy farm. When my grandfather took over, he bought all the surrounding land he could and dedicated some of it to a pumpkin patch. He died ten years ago. My dad didn’t want any part of farming, and Grandma couldn’t manage the business by herself, so she stopped tending the pumpkins and kept only one cow. When I came back after college, I started planting trees where the pumpkins had once been.”
“Do your parents live in Skogen?”
“My parents are the reason you’re here. My father’s president of Skogen National Bank and Trust.”
“Your own father won’t give you a loan?”
He slouched in his chair. “I was a problem child.”
Maggie didn’t know if she was amused or horrified. “Haven’t your parents noticed you’re all grown-up?”
“My mother thinks if I were all grown-up I’d be married. My father thinks if I were all grown-up I wouldn’t have delusions of grandeur about growing organic apples.”
His family and hers shared some disturbingly similar traits.
“This isn’t fair,” Maggie said. “It’s one thing for you to be facing possible bankruptcy and ruin, it’s quite another for you to be having the exact same problems that made me leave Riverside. I just spent half a day on the road to get away from my mother and Aunt Marvina, and now I find out your mother is blackmailing you to get married, and your father thinks your choice of lifework is ridiculous. I’m not going to have to get involved in any of this, am I?”
“Maybe a little. Mom and Dad are coming over for dinner tomorrow night.”
Maggie stood so quickly, her chair tipped over and crashed to the floor. “What? No way. Uh-uh. Forget it. I barely know you. How am I going to convince them we’re married?”
“No problem. I’m known for being impulsive and obstinate, and indulging in harebrained schemes. My parents will believe any thing about me.”
“What will I wear?” Even as she said it, she cringed at her classic female reply.
“Surely there must be something in all those boxes we packed in the back of the truck.”
“Boring teacher’s clothes.”
“Good,” he said. “That’s great. Be a typical teacher. My mother will love it.”
Maggie grimaced and wondered how to break the news to him. She’d been a good teacher, but she’d never been typical. She’d had a hard time sticking to the syllabus, sometimes her classes got a tad chaotic, and she didn’t always have the patience to be diplomatic with parents. In the past two years she’d spent more time in the principal’s office than Leo Kulesza, the only kid in the history of Riverside High School to repeat tenth grade four times. “What about food? I’m not the world’s greatest cook.”
“Elsie will take care of the food.”
“Does Elsie know your father is the president of the bank?”
“Elsie arrived the day I left on my wife hunt. There wasn’t much time for nonessential conversation.” He lowered his voice. “Maybe we should wait until after the dinner party to tell her. Tact doesn’t seem to be her strong suit.”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“It has to work. I need that loan. I need it fast.”
“Why don’t you go to another bank to get a loan?”
“The banking community up here is very small. I doubt if anyone would want to step on my dad’s toes. And the truth is, I’m not all that solvent. I’ve already taken a mortgage on the farm to expand the orchards. Giving me another loan is going to be an act of faith. In all honesty, I can see my father’s point of view. If I were in his position, I’m not sure I would loan me the money either. He has no way of knowing I’m capable of making a long-term commitment to a project. He told me to prove I could commit to something long-term; he told me to settle down and get married.”
“What happens when I leave?”
He shrugged. “They’ll have to deal with that.” Just as he would, he thought grimly. “They’re going to have to accept my failures as well as my successes. In the long run it’s my opinion of myself that really counts anyway.”
Maggie righted her chair. She took a chunk of potato salad and chewed it thoughtfully. He was no dummy. He had his ducks all in a row. He could be faulted for finding weird solutions to his problems, but he had strength of character. And that was a good thing for a husband to have.
Chapter 3
Maggie sat at her desk and stared, dreamy eyed, out the open window. There was a broad expanse of lawn, and after that there were rows of green-leaved apple trees stretching out over the low hills. The air was fragrant with smells of grass and earth, the sky was a brilliant, cloudless azure, the computer screen in front of her was blank, except for one phrase-“Once upon a time…”
Elsie knocked on the door and poked her head in. “You been up here for hours. What are you doing?”
“Watching apple trees grow.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be writing?”
“I’m getting inspired.”
“Are you going to spend much more time at this inspired stuff? Hank’s parents will be here in half an hour.”
Maggie clapped a hand over her mouth. “I forgot!”
“Yeah, watching apple trees grow is pretty absorbing.”
“It is, when you’ve spent your entire life in a town that makes bricks.” She shut down the computer. “How’s the dinner coming?”
“I’m not a fancy cooker, but my food won’t kill anyone either.”
“Good enough for me,” Maggie said.
Twenty minutes later she swiped at her eyelashes with the mascara wand and decided she was as good as she was going to get. She wore a black-and-white zebra-striped silk shirt with a wide black leather belt and a little white linen skirt that rose an inch above her knees. She slipped her feet into black flats, posed once in front of the mirror and went flying from her room when she heard a car coming down the driveway. She almost collided with Hank in the hall.
“Whoa,” he said. “Not so fast.” He held her at arm’s length and took a fast appraisal. “So, this is your boring teacher’s clothes, huh?” A grin spread across his face. His mother was going to have a heart attack when she saw the zebra shirt and short skirt. He might have a heart attack, too, but for different reasons. “You look sensational.”
“Do you really think this is okay? I can change…”
His hands were gripping her just above the elbows, burning brands into her arms, and suddenly she wanted very badly for him to approve.
“You’re perfect. Except for one thing.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a slim, gold wedding band. He held it between thumb and forefinger and studied it for a moment, feeling uncomfortable. He remembered his first real kiss with Joanie Karwatt. And some other more embarrassing moments. This ranked right up there with the most awkward pseudoromantic episodes, he decided.
He took her hand, sucked in some air, and slid the ring onto her finger. He realized he was holding his breath and released it with a loud whoosh, relieved that the deed was done. “How does it feel?”
Maggie looked at the ring and swallowed. No amount of warning would have prepared her for that moment. Only seconds ago she’d been filled with bravado, and now she was overwhelmed with strange emotions. Emotions she never even knew existed within her. It was with a sense of dismay that she stared at the band and realized it was only a front.