Montana Homecoming (The Wildes of Birch Bay Book 6) Page 10
And he hadn’t been wrong. “It does feel good.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
She should. Just like lying on the couch with him, this was wrong. But if this was wrong, she didn’t want to be right.
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you to stop.”
“Good.”
He went back to massaging, switching to her other foot, and she closed her eyes and tried to remember the decisions she’d made the night before. She hadn’t brought the subject up again because the timing had never seemed right. But also because she simply hadn’t had the mental fortitude to deal with it. The day had been intense all the way around, and any additional Cord-related issues had seemed more than she could handle. So, after returning from her car, she’d hidden in the bedroom.
She had considered suggesting Cord open one of the other cabins for her. After all, there were nine of them sitting unused. But practicality had won out. She’d only be there for one more night, and there really wasn’t a need for Cord to have to clear another path through the snow just for her. Plus, if she’d gone to another cabin, she totally would have had to “borrow” some of Cord’s food. Her baby didn’t like it when she didn’t eat.
So off to the bedroom she’d gone, using the excuse that she needed to work on upcoming class plans, when the reality was that she’d simply been avoiding Cord. While in there, though, she had made one final decision. And that was that she wouldn’t have the expectation conversation, after all. Not face-to-face, anyway. Instead, she’d planned to leave a note where Cord would find it after she was gone. And then she wouldn’t answer her phone if he called. Not that she actually expected him to.
“You really want to talk about that now?” she asked, doing her best not to let her eyes roll to the back of her head because of the things he continued doing to her feet.
“I do.”
Fine. Then talk they would do. Because, when presented with the perfect opportunity . . .
“Expectation number one.” She imagined sitting up tall and coming across as strong and in control. In reality, she kept her feet in Cord’s lap. “I won’t take the five thousand dollars you sent Friday night, nor do I want any other money from you ever.”
His hands quit moving. “Why not?”
She gave a shrug. “I just don’t. If you choose not to be in my son’s life, that’s fine. That’s your decision, and I’m okay with it. But if so, then don’t be in his life. In any way. I can take care of him myself.”
Cord stared at her, unblinking for several seconds before responding. “But I saw how painful the car bill is going to be for you.”
“What?” She did push up then. “What are you talking about?”
He stayed as he had been, still sitting with one knee propped on the couch. “When you saw the estimate for the repairs today,” he explained. “I watched you cringe. I know it’s going to be a painful bill for you, so take the money. It’ll help.”
She gawked at him. He sounded so carefree about tossing around thousands of dollars. And he’d so easily made assumptions about her. “I also cringe when I have to send in my mortgage payment every month. Handing over wads of cash isn’t exactly my idea of fun. And no, I’m not taking the money.”
His jawline tensed. “We’ll circle back to that one. What’s next?”
She glared. There would be no circling back. “You’ll get a legal document drawn up stating that you want nothing whatsoever to do with my son’s life, and thus you’ll have no rights going forward. And I will let you pay for that.”
His nostrils flared. “What if something happens to you? If you can’t take care of him?”
“Then I’ll arrange for help.”
“What if you’re a bad mother?”
The question, as well as the harsh delivery, caused her to jerk back. Did he think she would be a bad mother? She wet her lips. “Why would you say that?” It was hard not to take the question personally. Hard not to wonder if he could foresee something in her that she’d tried hard not to worry might be there. “Is there a reason you think I might be a bad mother, Cord?”
He didn’t move an inch. “I’m just saying that bad mothers exist. I’ve known them.” The hardness of his expression had her wanting to pull back. “There are women out there who have no business raising a baby,” he continued, “much less trying to do it on their own. That’s all I’m suggesting. How do you know you’re not one of them?”
And then she got it. He was talking about his mother. Not necessarily about her.
She blew out a soft breath. “Are you referring to your mother, Cord?”
Surprise crossed his features.
“I’m friends with Erica and Arsula,” she explained, as if that was all that needed to be said.
Anger tightened his jaw. “Those ladies certainly talk, don’t they?”
Maggie didn’t let his annoyance bother her. She shrugged. “Friends share things. But the thing is, none of us are out running around town and telling others about it.”
“They told you.”
He had a point. She decided to ignore it. “And before you mention the possibility of me dying,” she said, “I’ve already thought about that. I’ll have a will in place before I deliver. There will be a guardian listed.”
“Who will it be?” he asked, but she hadn’t decided yet. Her father didn’t need that kind of responsibility on top of running the guest ranch. Her brother, perhaps?
Erica?
She swallowed. “I haven’t made my final decision.” She had friends from college she remained close with. “I wouldn’t leave my son to just anyone, though. I promise you that.”
He seemed to consider her answer, and as he did, she tried to come up with any additional objections he might have. Nothing came to mind. Which meant, there should be no reason not to draw up that document.
“No,” Cord finally said. “I won’t do that.”
“Cord.” His blunt declaration surprised her, and she leaned forward as far as her stomach would allow. She wished she’d turned the light on so she could see him better. His eyes were shadowed. “Why not? You don’t want anything to do with him. Why would you care?”
“I also don’t want him tossed around to just anyone. Next?”
“Next?” She blinked. Did he or did he not want to have anything to do with his child?
“Yes. What’s the next thing on your list?”
This wasn’t at all how she’d seen this conversation going. His responses had her wondering how he’d take her third requirement, and nerves caused her subconscious to wave the caution flag. She pushed forward, however, lowering her gaze to the middle of his chest.
“When you drop me off at the rental place tomorrow, you’ll lose my phone number, and I’ll lose yours.” She didn’t mean to, but she glanced up. Her mouth had gone dry. “We’ll have no reason to speak again,” she croaked out. “So, no need to have the means to get in touch.”
Her baby chose that moment to fire off several punches, and gratefully, she dropped her gaze again. Tears threatened, and though they’d likely spill out no matter how hard she tried to contain them, she hoped the sweep of hair falling in front her face would hide the evidence. She should have just left a note. This was too hard. And she didn’t know why he was making it so.
“Maggie.” He said her name softly, leaving her to wonder if the moment was hard for him, as well.
She shook her head. “We can finish talking in the morning.” She somehow managed to rise from the couch on her own, keeping her face turned from Cord’s as she did. “I’m going back to bed.”
Cord rose behind her. “Maggie,” he said again, this time more insistent. More urgent.
She didn’t face him, but she also didn’t walk away. Not yet. “What?”
“Stay here this week.”
At that, she whipped around. “What?”
“There’s no need to get a hotel,” he said. His features gave nothing away. “No need for a rental eith
er. I’ll be here all week. I can take you back and forth to work.”
She gaped at him. “You want me to stay here? With you?” She shook her head without even realizing it.
“Not with me,” he corrected. “Just here. It makes sense. If you seriously want me to consider not sending you any more money, then I have to know that you can take care of yourself. That you can take care of the baby. Stay here. You can have the bedroom, and I’ll remain on the couch.”
“No.” She wouldn’t even consider it. She already felt bad for putting him out as it was. Doing it for the rest of the week was out of the question. Plus . . . she couldn’t be in such proximity to him for that long. That would be harder than the conversation they’d just had. That would make her want him to want their baby even more.
“Then I’ll send you one thousand dollars every week,” he announced. “And I’ll insist you accept it.”
She gaped again. Was he out of his mind?
She should agree just to force him to do it. That would teach him.
“I won’t put you out like that, Cord. I can pay for a hotel.” Then she had another thought. It didn’t solve the problem of being in his proximity, but it would make it easier to stay. “Unless you let me take the couch?”
The expression that passed over his face was comical. As if she’d caught him off guard by punching him square in the nose. “There is no way I’d ever let that happen, Maggie.”
“Fine. Then I’ll go to a hotel.”
“No. You can stay in one of the other cabins.”
The suggestion caused her to pause. It was a workable option, and if he hadn’t caught her so off guard to begin with, it was one she’d have thought of herself. But why was he suddenly trying so hard not to get rid of her?
“You’ll have your own space,” he went on, “but it won’t cost you anything. And I’ll still be able to take you back and forth to work.” He nodded, his expression both sincere and a little pleading. “Stay, Maggie. Let me do this for you. I’ll talk to a lawyer Monday. You and I can work out terms that both of us are comfortable with, and at the end of the week”—his chin inched upward—“we’ll do as you ask and lose each other’s numbers.”
Chapter Eight
“I hear Maggie Crowder is staying out at the cabins with you.”
Cord looked up from his phone at his dad’s statement, glancing between him and Gloria. They sat side by side, his dad in a wheelchair, in the orthopedic waiting area of the Birch Bay Medical Plaza. “Where did you hear that?”
“Nate mentioned it. He and Megan stopped by the house yesterday afternoon.”
Cord frowned. His brother seemed to have picked up a bad habit of oversharing.
Nate and Megan had shown up before lunch yesterday, anxious to get Maggie settled in cabin number two, and while that had been going on, Cord had cleared a path between the two buildings. He’d also moved his truck over to park in front of her cabin. No need to make her walk in the snow any more than necessary. Then he’d shoveled the walk from it to her porch.
Megan freshened the sheets and checked on supplies while Nate had hauled in groceries, then as quickly as they’d arrived, everyone had disappeared. Nate, Megan, and Maggie.
Cord had spent the remainder of the day by himself. Exactly as he’d planned when he’d decided to come home. He’d eaten a cold sandwich for dinner, had worked on putting together some of the miniature furniture he’d brought with him—which would be part of his Christmas gifts for his two oldest nieces—and he’d found himself completely bored.
This morning, with the roads having been scraped and cleared, he’d gone for a run before daybreak. The cold air had sucked the breath out of him at first, but in the end, it was exactly what he’d needed. The time had allowed him to turn his mind to only the things he needed to accomplish that day. Take his father to see his orthopedic surgeon and prosthetist, reach out to a friend who was a family law attorney, and not think about Maggie. Or the baby.
The most important thing was to not think about the baby.
He’d grabbed a quick shower before hurrying back outside, intending to help Maggie to the truck, but the moment he’d opened his front door, he’d found her already waiting. Inside the cab. A small stepstool sat on the ground next the passenger door, and for some reason, that triangular piece of aluminum and plastic had irritated him. He hadn’t minded having to lift Maggie up to the seat. And seriously, him doing that was far safer than her balancing on the small stool.
He didn’t let his annoyance show, however. He’d merely gotten behind the wheel and taken her to work.
“She’s not staying with me,” Cord corrected, coming back to the conversation. “Nate got her set up in the cabin next door.”
“But she was with you Friday and Saturday night?” This question came from Gloria, and when Cord shot her a look, she seemed as bewildered as Nate had been when he’d found out Maggie had stayed in Cord’s cabin a second night.
Cord had explained that at the time, it hadn’t been known she’d need to stay any longer than Sunday morning. Therefore, there’d been no need to ready another cabin. Nate had remained suspicious, however.
She’s pregnant, bro. Don’t be messing with her.
Cord had glowered at his younger brother. I am not messing with her. I was being nice. Exactly as he’d been when he’d suggested she stay on the property in the first place.
Good. Keep it that way.
Cord didn’t need any of his brothers in his face about Maggie—nor his sister or his father and stepmother—but deep inside, he’d secretly liked knowing that someone would be watching out for her. She might need that.
“Yes,” Cord replied, once again having to drag his mind back to the present. “She did stay with me those two nights.” He ignored his father’s curious stare. He’d told his dad Saturday morning that no one else had been out at the cabin. “I found her on the side of the road as I came into town Friday night.” He assumed Nate had filled them in on that part, as well. “And since it was snowing so hard you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, I offered to let her stay at the cabin. Her place is being worked on, so she couldn’t go home.”
“Hmmm,” his dad said, the sound dragging out far longer than Cord thought necessary.
“There’s no ‘hmmm’ to it,” Cord pushed back. “She needed help, and I was there.”
“Sure,” the older man agreed. “But . . . be careful with that one, son. She’s pregnant.”
Oh, sheesh. Him, too? “You think?” He scowled. “I’m not molesting the girl, Dad. I was simply helping her out.”
“We know that, Cord.” Gloria gave him a soft smile, reaching over to pat her husband on the thigh at the same time. “All you boys are good like that. Your dad is just a bit protective of Maggie because she’s stopped by to check on him a couple of times.”
The news shocked Cord. “Maggie has been to the house?”
“Yes.” Gloria nodded. “With Erica and Arsula once, and another time, she stopped on her own. She brought a pie that day.”
“A lemon pie.”
His dad followed his words with a moaning-purr, and the sound made Cord wish he’d been able to try the pie. Her potato soup had been amazing.
“Of course,” his dad mused, “she’s the size of a house.”
“Maxwell Wilde!” Gloria shot to her feet.
“What?” His dad seemed surprised at Gloria’s shrieking. “I’m just—”
“You do not talk about a woman like that.” Gloria had a finger pointing in his dad’s face. “Ever. What in the devil is wrong with you?”
A flush crept over his father’s face. “Ah, geez. I know that. I’m sorry. She just . . . I’m just—”
“You just, nothing,” Gloria growled out. She lowered back into her seat, her stiff jawline and her narrowed eyes letting her displeasure be known. “Don’t ever let me hear you talk like that again. I’m horrified.” The frown pursing his stepmother’s mouth, along with the hangdog look h
is father now sported, had Cord almost feeling sorry for the man. He’d brought it on himself, though. Cord didn’t know what his dad had been thinking.
Cord went back to the text he’d spent the last twenty minutes both typing out then subsequently deleting, unsure what had him dragging his feet to get things moving with the lawyer. Meanwhile, Gloria picked up a magazine and, with a slight turn of her body, made her intention to ignore her husband clear. His dad sat in morose silence. Occasionally he’d toss out a long side-eye at Gloria, obviously hoping she’d relent and cut him a break.
Cord chuckled to himself, enjoying the time with the two of them, even if the current moment was tense. He’d been glad to see them both seemingly back to their old selves that morning.
“Poopsie . . .” his dad mumbled a few minutes later, and Cord’s gaze shot back up from his phone. Poopsie?
Good Lord.
He had the sudden urge to be anywhere but there.
“Do not talk to me, Max Wilde.” Gloria licked the tip of her finger and turned the page. “I’m not finished being upset with you yet.”
Cord snickered, unable to hold the sound in, then before he could get himself into trouble along with his dad, he rose and moved to the opposite side of the room. Plus, the distance would put him out of earshot of any more “Poopsies” his dad might toss out.
There were only two other people in the waiting room, so he found a bare spot of wall between a set of vacant chairs and leaned back. Pulling his phone back up, this time he didn’t even try to send his friend a message. Instead, he tapped in Maggie’s name.
He hadn’t heard anything from her since dropping her off at the school that morning.
But then, he’d only dropped her off an hour and a half ago. She had a classroom full of third graders to attend to, so he would be the furthest thing from her mind. Or more aptly, he was regularly the furthest thing from her mind. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for him.
Her feet and ankles had been swelling again that morning.