cheek and expelled a harsh sigh. Now he understood why Maggie was so down some evenings. He was always telling her to leave her work at the office, but after today, he could see how much easier that was said than done. The amazing thing was that she was able to stay as objective as she did.
Rio’s heart lifted when he saw her car in the driveway, but he had a few more chores to do before he could call it a night. He stopped by the trailer to visit with Jeremy’s wife and baby daughter and check with Jeremy to see how the broncs had settled in, but Tess said he’d driven in to town to pick up some hamburgers for supper.
Having his recently discovered younger brother and his family on the ranch was a pleasure Rio was glad he hadn’t missed. As he did often of late, he wondered if the man who’d fathered them both was lonely, and if he was sorry for the world of distortion he’d built, now that it had collapsed on him.
He knew Jeremy missed his dad—and probably the easy lifestyle he’d grown up with. But he was a stubborn kid, and he was still mad and hurt to the bone by John Hardin Westlake’s scheme to separate him from Tess and their unborn baby. Tess’s father and Westlake had constructed a web of lies that put the two young people’s love to the test. Only a miracle had brought them all together. A miracle and a woman named Maggie, who’d been willing to put her job on the line.
As Rio played with six-and-a-half-month-old Emily, he tried to imagine what his life had been like before he’d found her on his front doorstep. Lonely. Empty But Emily’s appearance had brought Maggie back into his life, and eventually Jeremy and Tess had come, too. And suddenly Rio had found himself with a real family. It was nice, he thought. Real nice.
After giving Emily the attention she considered her due each evening, Rio checked Babydoll again and gave his gelding a rubdown and a handful of sugar cubes. Something about the mundane tasks was calming. It didn’t occur to him that the small everyday chores were a validation—maybe even a celebration—of his own life and happiness.
When he stepped through the door of the house he shared with Maggie an hour and a half later, the aroma of baking apples and other mouthwatering scents wafted through the air to tickle his nostrils. He smiled. She had cooked up a storm—with apple pie for dessert. He wondered what he’d done to deserve it. He wondered what he’d done to deserve his sweet, sweet Maggie. The sheer rightness of his life banished the last lingering thoughts of Bull Farmer from his mind.
He hung his Stetson on the antique hall tree and took off his boots in the entryway. Maggie got a little testy if he tracked up her floors. Considering the time she spent keeping the place clean, he couldn’t say he blamed her.
“Maggie!” he called, padding toward the living room in his stocking feet.
“In here!”
Rio made his way through the house toward the sound of her voice. He stopped just inside the dining room. The room was dark, except for the flames of literally dozens of candles—tall, squat, thin, fat—a re-creation that was poignantly reminiscent of their wedding night.
Maggie stood by the window, her head tilted slightly to one side as she arranged flowers in a crystal vase. She wore a dress he’d never seen before. He knew he’d never seen it, because it wasn’t the sort of dress a man would easily forget, a shimmering, satiny, peach-colored number that gathered at the neck and revealed most of her shoulders. The hair that tumbled over her bare, fair shoulders shone as brightly as the copper kettle her Aunt Hattie had given them at their kitchen shower. She looked up at him, a single long-stemmed rose in her hand.
“Hi.” She raised the rose to her lips, her green eyes twinkling over the petals as if she had a secret too delicious to keep.
She dropped the flower on the table and reached out a hand toward him. Dazed, Rio, his movements slow and careful drew her into his arms, feeling, as he always did in her presence, big and clumsy and unworthy of a woman like her.
Their kiss was long and slow. When she drew away, his heart was galloping in his chest.
“My sweet, sweet Maggie,” he said in a husky voice as he rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip in a gentle caress. “What’s all this for?”
Maggie captured his hand. “I know how hard you and Cal and Ken have been working at getting those rodeos lined up lately, and how uptight you’ve been about getting your business started. I got to thinking that it would be nice if I helped you unwind.”
He laughed softly and shook his head.
“How am I supposed to relax when you look so beautiful?” he said thickly. “You are, you know.”
“So are you,” she countered on a sigh.
“Yeah, right.” He hugged her tighter and gave a deep, satisfied sigh. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this kind of treatment, but if you’ll tell me, I’ll make sure to do it more often.”
She lifted her head from his chest to look at him, then cradled his whisker-rough cheek with her palm.
“I guess I just got to thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” she said in a trembling voice.
He dipped his head to kiss her. Their mouths had just touched when the phone rang, shattering the feelings building between them.
“Don’t answer it,” he said as the phone rang again.
“It might be Cal calling from Calgary,” Maggie said, reminding him of the trip Cal McKinney had made to see about providing the stock for the annual Stampede. The phone shrilled the third time.
“You don’t want to miss it, do you?” she asked as the fourth ring pealed out.
Reluctantly Rio hauled himself away from her and stalked into the kitchen. He grabbed the phone on the fifth ring and barked a short “Hello” into the receiver. Nothing but buzzing sounded in his ear.
Great. Whoever it was had hung up. He was just starting back to the dining room when the doorbell rang. What was this? he wondered. Some sort of conspiracy? Muttering to himself, he went to see who was at the door.
Maggie watched as Rio left the room, a look of admiration in her eyes, a satisfied smile on her lips. For the past few hours she’d raced around the house like a mad woman, cooking, cleaning, arranging the flowers and candles just so and then finally, working on herself, creaming, spritzing and curling, until she looked as good as the rest of the place. Judging from the expression on Rio’s face, it had all been worth it—more than worth it. There was no doubt that he liked the dress. The music on the CD player had changed to an instrumental Christmas medley. She sighed in contentment as she hummed along with the soft strains of a violin. Her husband was quite a man, she reflected. How had she gotten so lucky as to find him?
Her thoughts were scattered by the sudden unexpected roar of a gunshot from the front of the house. The noise drowned out the lilting melody of the Christmas song and shattered Maggie’s mood in a single thundering beat of her heart. Instant and inexplicable fear exploded inside her. Her brain kicked into overdrive, computing the information at hand and coming up with a horrifying answer.
Rio!
With her heart pounding in sudden terror, Maggie ran headlong through the house, screaming his name.
She careened to a stop just inside the living room. In the light that spilled through the open doorway from the front porch, she saw Rio lying sprawled on his back Rick
