My Way Back to You (Harlequin Large Print Super Romance) (21 page)

She pushed back to look at him. “A couple of weeks is a long time for two people who’ve never been away from home for more than a weekend.”

He grinned. “That’s what’s great about this. We take our home with us.” He patted the bed and winked. “We’ve got our bed, which I’ve already made up with our own sheets and blankets. We just need to bring our pillows.” He shifted her off his lap and stood up, pushing the button to bring in the slide. “And lookee here.” He opened what looked like a closet. “A stacked washer and dryer unit, so we can do laundry.” He took her hand and led her back to the front room, opening the cabinet over the kitchen sink, which was filled with dishes.

“The guy sold me everything with it. Dishes, silverware.” He opened a large, deep drawer filled with cookware. “All kinds of pots and pans, too. Movie DVDs, a coffeemaker, toaster, waffle iron. I’m telling you, Rosie, it’s ready to move into. All it’s waiting for is groceries and our clothes.”

Rosemary’s heart fluttered with a good kind of excitement—a feeling she hadn’t felt in far too long. The flutter wasn’t strong, and it didn’t overpower the anxiety she was experiencing, but she couldn’t ignore it, either. “Well, if you’re determined to go...”

“I am.” Eli pushed the button and the kitchen slid back in.

“I would worry myself sick, thinking about you being out on the highway, all by yourself.”

He chuckled and brought in the other slide. “You’re gonna worry yourself sick either way. You might as well get in some sights while you’re at it. Now, come here.” He pointed to the passenger seat. “Try it out.”

She sat on the soft leather, which had been sat on enough to be broken in. “It
is
comfortable,” she admitted, playing with the buttons on the side to adjust the seat to her preferences while he raised the hydraulic jacks. “But, what about the cost, Eli? I know it was expensive.”

“Life’s short, and we can’t take our money with us. Let’s enjoy it and each other, while we can. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her throat closed around her answer.

“Now, buckle your seat belt, ’cause we’re taking ’er for a ride.”

“Well, somebody’s getting taken for a ride,” she quipped. “But I think it may be me.”

“See there.” Eli laughed as he eased the big rig out of their driveway. “You’re getting back to your old self already, and we haven’t even driven out of town.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Y
OU
WOULD
TELL
me if anything was wrong, right?” Jeff tried to convince himself the odd quality to Maggie’s voice was simply the underlying tension between them, but he couldn’t shake the feeling it was more than that.

“Nothing’s wrong.” A loud yawn interrupted her part of the conversation. “I’m just tired, and standing most of the day makes my back hurt. But Dr. Donovan tells me that’s to be expected when you’re pregnant at thirty-seven as opposed to nineteen.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He shuffled some of the papers lying on the desk in front of him, groping for conversation topics to keep her talking a while longer. “Are you still going to the gym? Maybe you should give that a break for a while.” Damn! There he went, telling her what she should be doing. He’d been really watching what he said lately, trying to be ultra-supportive and concerned, while not giving in to advice or anything that would come across as overbearing.

“I haven’t been going as much as I was, but I’m trying to get in a couple of low-impact aerobics classes a week. And I walk during my breaks at work. I might get a treadmill for home, but I just don’t have the energy to shop for one right now. But this exhaustion will pass. I slept through the entire first trimester with Russ, if you remember.”

“I do.” Jeff smiled at the memory of coming home and finding Mags asleep at the oddest hours of the day. “And when you hit the third trimester, you couldn’t sleep at all. The three months in the middle were almost normal, though.”

She didn’t respond to that, and he sensed she was about to make an excuse to hang up.

“I talked to Russ yesterday,” he said.

“Yeah, me, too.” Another yawn. “Sounds like calculus is kicking his ass.”

“I told him to get a tutor or sign up for a study group.” Parenting advice didn’t count as being overbearing, did it? Parents were supposed to tell their kids what to do. He held his breath, waiting for her response.

“And I told him he should stay in more and study, and go out less. The thing is, high school was easy for him. He’s never had to study, and doesn’t even know how to, really. A study group would be good for him.”

His breath eased out at her words of agreement, followed by another long pause. “He said Eli and Rosemary made it to the Grand Canyon and are having a great time.”

“Yeah. At first, I thought Dad had lost his mind, but Mom sounds like a different person on the phone. It’s been a good thing for both of them, I think.”

“All couples can benefit from having time alone, away from everything,” he said gently, prodding her to talk about their situation.

She gave a loud sigh. “Oh, Lord, please don’t let her come home pregnant.”

Jeff chuckled, hoping she was kidding and not making commentary about herself. The thought sobered him. Just because their last time together didn’t go well...that wouldn’t cause her to...? His heart stalled. “You’re still okay with this, aren’t you, Mags? This pregnancy?”

“No regrets, if that’s what you’re asking. But I’m really tired, and I do need to go to bed.”

Because ignoring her not-so-subtle hint might be construed as overbearing, he gave up on any more attempts to keep her on the line. “I understand. Get some rest. I’ll talk to you soon.” Which meant the next time he called her. She hadn’t called him since her visit, which was frustrating if he thought about it too much.

“Okay. Bye.”

“See you soo—”

He tossed his phone onto the stack of papers and rested his forehead on his thumbs, pressing into the soreness that seemed to be a permanent fixture these days. A month ago, he was so sure he and Mags were headed toward reconciliation. Now they were hurtling backward at a speed so fast it was difficult to keep his bearings.

Just keep focused on the baby. She’s the key.

For some reason, he’d started referring to the baby as a girl. Maybe it was intuition and maybe just wishful thinking. But whether the baby was a he or a she, the child gave him and Mags a reason to be together, and he was determined to give all he had to making that time together count.

He ran his fingertips over the word he’d written on his calendar across the third week of November—
Russ.
He’d started to put
and Mags
, but he didn’t want his dad asking questions when he came to fill in at the dealership.

Anyway, he didn’t have to write her name on his calendar. It was written on his heart.

And if all went well, maybe he wouldn’t have to ever write the baby’s name on a calendar.

Maybe they could find a way for them all to be together...maybe he could
make
a way.

If all went well.

* * *

I
F
E
LI
’
S
HEART
can take this, it can take anything,
Rosemary decided, because right at that moment hers was so filled with awe and wonder it proved impossible for it to keep a steady rhythm. It had been that way for the past two days, ever since their arrival at the Grand Canyon.

She’d been given a glimpse of a whole new world.

The idea that the seemingly innocuous river at the bottom of the canyon had cut through and eroded away the land until a gorge so expansive had been created was almost more than her mind could grasp. Time after time since their arrival, they’d returned to the overlook, drawn by the majestic view.

But it wasn’t the canyon alone that had her heart thrumming. It was the helicopter tour through the canyon this morning—a ride so terrifyingly exciting she’d had to breathe into a paper sack to combat hyperventilation. It was the drumbeat of the Native American dancers they’d watched this afternoon still pulsing through her veins. It was the stirring sensations she’d felt this evening while watching the IMAX movie.

Now, it was Eli’s easy laugh beside her and the happy gleam in his eyes that shimmered in the campfire light.

“Careful. It’s hot.” He dangled the straightened clothes hanger over her lap, and she gingerly slid the marshmallow—toasted to a yummy, golden perfection—off the end and popped it into her mouth.

Was there anything more delicious...well, except for the man himself? The old, familiar stirring deep in her belly was even more pleasant than the sweetness that filled her mouth.

“No more for me.” She lifted the half-empty bag of marshmallows from the seat beside her.

Eli stuck the end of the wire back into the fire to burn off the last remains. “I’m done, too.”

The smell of burnt sugar filled her nostrils and settled on her tongue, reminding her of the caramel pie filling she used to make every Sunday—the one where she caramelized the sugar in a cast-iron skillet. “Think I’ll make a pie tomorrow.” She stretched out her legs to warm her feet.

Eli shook his head in mock amazement. “I’ll swear, Rosie. You’ve taken to this motorhome living like a duck to water.” He paused, then pointed to the large rig parked in the next site over. “Talked to Pete a long time today about full-timing. He said it was a tough decision, but one they’ve never regretted.”

Rosemary thought about the prospect of selling the house and moving into the RV full-time—a daunting idea but one that certainly held some appeal. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I love this. All of it.” She waved toward their coach and then took in the campfire and the rest of their surroundings. “I love the comfort of the coach and the thrill of seeing new places.” She reached over and patted his hand. “I love you.” Then she took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh, clean scent of the cedar burning in the fire pit. “If it weren’t for Maggie, I believe I could sell the house and do this year-round.”

“We could sell the house, but not the shop.” The uncommonly serious tone to Eli’s voice grabbed her full attention. “The shop’s insulated and has running water. Make a small living quarters in it, like maybe a living room and a bathroom, but include space big enough to pull the rig in. That way, we could travel most of the year, but go back to Taylor’s Grove when we wanted to, like through the holidays. Lots of people our age are doing that now.”

“Lots of people our age don’t have a daughter living nearby whose husband died and whose son just went away to college, leaving her alone...and lonely.”

Eli’s bottom lip protruded in thought. “Maybe she’d look harder—put herself out there more—if we weren’t such a handy time-filler for her.”

The gladness that had filled Rosemary’s heart so thoroughly a few minutes before started to seep out along with her deepest fear. “I’m afraid she’d turn to Jeff.”

Eli’s gaze met hers and held fast. “Maybe she needs to.”

His words were like a spark from the campfire that had made its way into her stomach. “How can you say that? You and I witnessed firsthand what she went through after he left. It was worse than withdrawal from a drug.”

“So maybe that’s when we should’ve realized he was ingrained in her soul. Maybe
that
was our failure—not encouraging them to try and work it out. We took her side. Blamed him. Made her feel like she had every right to walk away, and maybe we were wrong. Maybe we were too much in her life and maybe we still are. Maybe if we weren’t there she’d finally figure out what she really needs...and
who
.”

“What’s brought on this change of heart, Eli?”

His mouth twitched at her word choice and he gave her his
you know the answer to that
look. But then his face turned somber and reflective. “I was looking death in the face, Rosie, but I was too blind to see it. Got me to thinking about all the other things I was blind to. The love that beams from Russ when he talks about his dad? I’ve seen that same love reflected in Maggie’s eyes every time the man’s name comes up. Yeah, it’s shadowed by pain. But it’s right there plain as day if you’re open to seeing it.” His voice had become more vehement, more passionate than Rosemary had heard in years. While she didn’t agree with his logic, it stirred her just the same. And when he reached out and took her hand and said, “You’re ingrained in my soul, Rosie. It’s you I really need...” she was a goner.

She stood and tilted her head toward the coach. “Maybe we need to go in and christen that bed good and proper.”

He was on his feet in a flash, pulling her into a kiss that caused the burn in her belly to explode into full flame. “You go on,” he said when their mouths finally parted. “I’ll put out the fire.”

“Don’t you dare.” She gave a low laugh. “This is going to be fast and furious, and I’m probably gonna need a few more marshmallows afterward to get my energy back.”

His grin was wary. “You’re not afraid of killing me?”

She shrugged in resignation. “Guess if I do, you’ll die happy.”

“A man can’t ask for more than that.”

He clapped his hands to her rear end and pulled her to him once again. The campfire heated her backside, and Eli heated her front.

He was toasting her like he had the marshmallows—to hot and yummy perfection.

* * *

“
A
ND
THEN
HE
SAID
, ‘This isn’t moonshine. Moonshine’s clear. And if you pour some out on the ground and throw a match to it, it burns blue, like your eyes.’” Emmy was in the middle of one of her many tales—standard fare for Rowdy Friday—the once-a-month get-together with anyone from the salon who wanted to get out and have some fun to kick off the weekend.

Maggie shifted in her seat, trying to stretch her back muscles, which were still aching from standing all day and then sitting in the hard restaurant chair for several hours now. She hoped this story didn’t have too funny a punch line. Her stomach was cramping from laughing at all of Emmy’s wild stories.

“So, I just smile at him and bat my eyes real flirty,” Emmy continued. “And I say, ‘Well, this is the way we make moonshine in Kentucky. It’s sweet and spicy, just like our women, and no one would dare pour any on the ground because it would be a sin to waste a drop of it. But if it burned, it would burn black and blue, just like
your
eyes are gonna be if you don’t get your hand off my ass.’”

The group gave a collective squeal at Emmy’s sassiness.

“Did he move it?” Bev asked. “Or did you have to teach him a lesson?”

“Oh, he moved it all right.” Emmy glanced coyly about the room. “But I ended up teaching him a few lessons later on, anyway.” She grinned around the straw she’d been chewing on. “Course, he taught me a few, too.”

“You always get your man, EmmyLou.” An eye roll accompanied Janessa’s snarl. “Or, at least, in
your
telling of it you do.”

Generally, the people who worked at the salon got along well. But Janessa and her boyfriend had broken up last week, and she was still tender, evidenced by the fact she hogged the conversation for forty-five minutes, slamming him and the woman he’d broken up with her for. Everybody had been supportive and let her vent. But Rowdy Friday’s were supposed to be fun, not downers. The group had shown a definite upswing in attitude once Emmy took the floor.

“If I don’t get him, I didn’t want him.” Emmy’s perfect eyebrow arched to a point as she leaned across the table toward Janessa. “Men are like shoes. Why waste your time on the ones that hurt when you could be out shopping for the ones that fit just right?”

Maggie winced. The advice was solid, but if Janessa started in on another of her monologues, Maggie’s rear was going to go completely numb.

Evidently, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. During this last exchange, Eppie had sent a text and Tink had immediately received one. Interesting, since they rode together.

Sure enough, just as Janessa said, “But—” Tink interrupted. “Hey, y’all. It’s been fun, but I need to get home. I’ve got a pair of comfy shoes I’m hankering to slip on.” She flashed a big grin Emmy’s way.

“Me, too,” a couple of others agreed, and the group dispersed with hugs.

“You ready?” Emmy asked. She was going to drop Maggie off at the salon to get her car.

Maggie pointed toward the ladies’ room. “Gotta make a pit stop first.”