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Authors: Barbara Boswell,Copyright Paperback Collection (Library of Congress) DLC

Darling obstacles (18 page)

BOOK: Darling obstacles
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"Now we can get a baby like Nicole," Kari said happily.

"It better be a boy baby," argued Josh. "I don't need any more sisters."

"Well, I don't need any more brothers," Wendy said boldly. "I want a baby sister." Maggie was too chagrined to take pleasure in the little girl's uncharacteristic defiance of her brother.

"Maybe they can have a boy and a girl," Kevin said tactfully. "Then everyone will be happy."

"Oh, sure." Greg chuckled, and reached for Maggie's hand. "What do you think, sweetheart? There are four of mine and three of yours. Shall we have at least one of ours?"

Maggie paled. The man was mad! And a manipulating conniver as well. By telling the children of his insane plan, she would be placed in the awful position of dream-wrecker when she refused to comply.

"I'm very happy that you're going to marry my father, Maggie," Paula said in that dulcet voice of

hers. "I'm so tired of baby-sitting for the kids on weekends while he goes out on dates. Now you can both stay home and I can go out with my friends."

"I'm not marrying Maggie to gain a live-in babysitter, Paula," Greg admonished her.

"Oh, I know that, Daddy," she replied blithely. "You want a live-in date too. Now you'll have both."

And what would she have? Maggie wondered morosely. Four more children and a husband who didn't love her. The mind-boggling possibility of an eighth child! A live-in date and baby-sitter combination, eh? She decided then and there that she would hold onto her independent status as a paid sitter and refuse Greg's bloodless, practical, logical proposal.

Greg braked to a stop in front of 909 Woodland Courts. "Will you keep the kids after school tomorrow?" he asked above the hubbub of children's voices. "I'll try to leave the hospital a little early and we'll all go out for a celebration dinner."

"Can we go to Chuck E. Cheese?" Max asked hopefully.

"That would be romantic," Paula said sarcastically.

"It wasn't quite what I had in mind either," Greg agreed, laughing. "Now all Mays out of the car. Wil-ders wait here while I walk Maggie to her door."

"And kiss her good night," drawled Paula, who knew about these things.

"Gross!" Josh said.

"When you marry Mommy, will we be Wilders too?" asked Kari, skipping between Greg arid Maggie on the short walk to the door.

"I'd be happy for you to use my name, Princess," Greg replied in a warm, paternal voice. "Well talk it over with Mommy later."

"Kevin Wilder," Kevin said, throwing away his May heritage without a moment's hesitation. "I like it."

"Greg!" Maggie said, her teeth clenched together. "I want to talk to you. Right now!"

"Kristin, take Kevin and Kari inside, dear," Greg said, playing Daddy again. "Your mother will be along in a minute."

" Night, Dad!" Kevin cried exuberantly. Kari insisted on giving Greg a hug and a kiss. At first Kristin hung back shyly, but she finally found the nerve to place a quick peck on Greg's cheek.

"Well, now youVe really done it!" Maggie said, turning on him furiously after the children had gone inside. "What am I supposed to tell those children now, Greg Wilder?"

"That we're getting married in two weeks, that I'll be their new daddy, and that we'll all live happily ever after."

"Except that we won't! You never gave me an opportunity to reply to your proposal, Greg, so I'll do so now. My answer is no! I'm not going to marry you."

"Of course you are, honey. You're just having a case of bridal nerves. What scared you, Maggie? Was it the talk about having another baby? I was just having a little fun with the kids. If you don't want another child we won't have one, it's as simple as that."

"Having another baby has nothing to do with it! Greg, you had no right to tell the kids we were getting married! I didn't say I'd marry you. I haven't said it yet and I'm not going to!"

"Daddy, hurry up," Joshua shouted from the car. "Max has to go to the bathroom."

Greg glanced from Maggie to the car. "I'll take the kids home and be back within an hour. We'll talk then."

"If by talk you mean that you intend to bulldoze me into saying yes, then don't bother, Greg. I won't be rushed into anything that—"

"Sooner or later you're going to marry me, Maggie," he interrupted impatiently. "If not for my money, then to legalize our affair. So why prolong the inevitable?"

She felt as if she'd been punched in the solar

plexus. "I would never marry for money! And we aren't going to have an affair!"

"Were having one now, Maggie, and you don't want your children or mine to know about it. If you turn down my proposal, I can only assume that you'd prefer an open affair. And it will be open, baby. Our children and the entire community of Woodland will know that we're sleeping together, I promise you that."

"You're not going to threaten me, Greg Wilder!"

"Threaten you? Darling, I'm trying to propose to you. We'll talk later," he promised in maddeningly soothing tones. "I'll be back after I take the kids home."

"I won't let you inside!"

"You can't relegate me back to the doorstep, sweetheart." He laughed, a soft dangerous laugh that sent a little chill along her spine. "I've already been inside. Inside your house, inside your life, inside you, Maggie. You can't keep me out and I think you know it." He dropped a light kiss on her forehead. "Ill see you in an hour or so."

She'd only been home for a few minutes when Mrs. Jenkins arrived from her half of the duplex, carrying a ceramic vase with a dozen long-stemmed red roses in it. "The florist come to deliver them this afternoon, and since you weren't here, I took them in for you," Mrs. Jenkins explained. "I put them in water. They do look lovely in this vase, don't they? It's one of my favorites."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Jenkins." Maggie stared at the roses, slightly overwhelmed. "They're beautiful. No one has ever sent me roses before."

"Red roses traditionally mean love and romance." Mrs. Jenkins sighed. "Here's the card." She handed Maggie a small sealed envelope. "Did Dr. Wilder send them? I believe he spent Friday night here."

The envelope fluttered from Maggie's hand and she stooped to retrieve it. Oh, no, it was beginning already—gossip linking her and Greg. An open affair,

he had said. They'd slept together one night and Mrs. Jenkins knew about it. In another day or so, all of Woodland Courts would know too. "Mrs. Jenkins, how—how did you know?"

"I go to bed very late and get up very early. I saw his car both times." Mrs. Jenkins shook her head at Maggie's stricken face. "I'm not condemning you, Maggie dear. No one knows better than I how sterile your life has been for the past six years. I'm delighted you've found a gentleman friend."

"He's asked me to marry him," Maggie blurted out. For reasons no doubt buried deep in her psyche, she simply couldn't bear to have her neighbor think her relationship with Greg was merely a casual liaison.

"Oh, Maggie, how wonderful!" Mrs. Jenkins's face lit up. "A rich doctor! How wonderful for the children! I'm so happy for all of you!"

Maggie winced. A rich doctor. Mrs. Jenkins thought she'd climbed aboard the gravy train. Everyone in Woodland Courts would think the same. She'd managed to snag a wealthy husband; she was moving up and out. Her fiery Irish pride rebelled at the notion. Dammit, she'd managed to survive and provide a decent living for herself and her kids. She was no Cinderella waiting around to be rescued by the wealthy prince! "But I haven't decided whether or not to accept his proposal," she said, setting her jaw.

"Oh, Maggie!" This time Mrs. Jenkins's expression was one of pure dismay. "What's to decide? Rich doctors who will take on a widow with three children don't grow on trees, you know. I'd say marry him as soon as possible."

Mrs. Jenkins and Greg seemed to be in perfect agreement on that, Maggie thought. For different reasons, or course. Greg wanted her baby-sitting and sexual services on a more convenient basis; Mrs. Jenkins thought she should take no chances in securing ownership of the golden goose. Neither cared at all that what Maggie would be getting was a husband who didn't love her.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked with frozen hauteur.

Greg gave a low whistle. "Will wonders never cease! She actually invited me inside. And all it took was a proposal of marriage."

Maggie refused to acknowledge the joke. "You said you wanted coffee," she said sternly. "You can hardly drink it on the doorstep. Although you shouldn't drink coffee at all at this time of night. The caffeine will keep you awake all night and I don't have any decaffeinated coffee to offer you."

"Sweetheart, I plan to be awake a good part of the night." He caught her round the waist and hauled her back against his chest. His lips brushed the soft skin along the curve of her neck and Maggie felt something akin to a bolt of electricity shoot through her. When his hands moved upward with slow confidence to cup her breasts, she drew a long, ragged breath. She'd been waiting all day for this, she admitted to herself. She craved his touch.

"Why don't we skip the coffee?" Greg's husky voice made her pulses throb. "I don't need the caffeine as a stimulant, darling. You're ten times as potent."

"Mommy?" Kari appeared at the head of the stairs, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh-oh," said Greg. "Caught in the act. Well, almost."

Kari stared intently at the sight of her mother in Greg's arms. Maggie tried to wriggle free, but Greg didn't release her. He removed his hands from her breasts but continued to hold her firmly against him. "What are you doing out of bed, princess?" he asked pleasantly.

"I heard the doorbell and I thought it was my new daddy. I wanted him to tuck me in," Kari said.

"Your new daddy would love to tuck you in, Kari." Greg released Maggie and loped up the stairs, two steps at a time. He swooped Kari up in his arms and carried the giggling little girl into her room.

Maggie heard him talking to all three children,

heard the good nights and the laughter and Kari's plea for one more hug. Her children were starved for a man's attention. Why hadn't she recognized that fact until now? It was so obvious that Greg's children needed a mother. How had she managed to remain oblivious to her own children's acute need for a father 's love?

Lost in thought, she walked slowly into the kitchen to put on the coffee. It was beginning to perk when Greg joined her. "I had a nice talk with the kids/' he said, making no attempt to resume the lovemaking preliminaries that had been interrupted. "They're great kids, Maggie. You've done a wonderful job with them."

Maggie glowed in spite of herself. The one surefire way to reach her was through her children.

"I see you got the roses." Greg watched her pour the coffee into two mugs and carry them to the table, along with the sugar bowl and a carton of milk. The roses were sitting in the middle of the table in Mrs. Jenkins's vase.

"My neighbor was wildly impressed." Maggie sat down at the table and poured a little milk into her coffee. "She thinks I should jump at the chance to marry you. Tomorrow isn't too soon for her."

"You told her I asked you to marry me?"

Too late Maggie realized what she'd given away. "She—she saw your car here all night Friday." She sipped her coffee. It was hot and rich and seemed to strengthen her. And she remembered her manners. "Thank you for the roses, Greg," she said primly. "They're lovely."

"Come over here and thank me properly," he said challengingly, and laughed when she didn't move from her chair. "Never mind, I can wait until later when you're not feeling so shy."

She jumped up from her chair, at once restless and excited and aroused. Greg controlled her as easily as a puppet on a string, she admitted to herself. A look, a touch, or a few words from him could make

her feel exactly what he wanted her to feel. She sought to break the invisible strings by focusing on some mundane domestic task.

"I'm hungry. I'm going to make some toast." She carefully turned her full attention to the task. "Would you like some?"

"No thanks." Greg watched her work for a few minutes. And then, "Maggie, how did Johnny die? You've mentioned several times that he was killed, but IVe never heard the full story."

His question caught her by surprise. She assumed everyone who knew her knew the facts surrounding Johnny's death. She hadn't told the story in years, for her neighbors, who knew all the facts, were quick to pass them along to newcomers to Woodland Courts.

"Johnny was a policeman on the Baltimore police force," she began, and Greg nodded. He knew that. "And he was shot and killed by the man driving the getaway car in a bank robbery in the city. Kari was just a week old at the time." She added that last for no other reason than that she always did when she discussed Johnny's death. The two facts were irrevocably bound in her mind. The local news had focused on it too during the brief time that Officer John May's death was a front-page story.

"It must have been a terrible time for you," Greg murmured.

"Of course, you know what it's like." Maggie stared into space. "The phone call that changes your life forever and turns an ordinary day into a living nightmare. The traumatic adjustment to an irreplaceable loss. The days when you go through the motions of living and wonder why. You've been through it all too."

Greg nodded grimly. Although Maggie knew the circumstances of Alicia's death, he wanted to share them with her. "A drunk driver hit Alicia's car and pushed it into the path of a truck in the passing lane. The car was totaled and she was pronounced dead at the scene."

"I remember hearing the news on the radio/' Maggie said softly. "I was stunned. I couldn't believe it had happened to little Joshua Wilder 's mother, the lovely woman that I knew. M

"I felt so helpless, Maggie. As a neurosurgeon, I'd been able to save accident victims with head injuries, but there wasn't a thing I could do for my own wife."

"And then comes the anger, the rage," added Maggie, remembering. "It took me a long time to work through that."

"It was the same for me. And I'm still a little irrational on the subject of drunk drivers."

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