What Were You Expecting? (7 page)

“Sure. In the meantime we got a lot of groups coming up.” Carl chuckled lightly, pushing his glasses back up on his nose and wetting his finger to sift through the invoices on his desk. Nils looked up to see Lars wink at him before heading out the door.

A wave of envy broke over Nils as he watched Lars’s easy gait, walking past the picture window toward the parking lot where they kept the airport van. Nothing ever got under Lars’s skin. Nothing impacted his equilibrium or threw off his rhythm. Lars was about the most comfortable person Nils had ever met. He didn’t have the kind of baggage that Nils had, fiercely painful memories that assaulted him in quiet moments. No, Nils’s younger brother was about as happy-go-lucky as any man he’d ever seen.

Nils, on the other hand, lived his life in a place of deep, secret sorrow. Externally, he knew people saw him as a stern and quiet man, aloof and cold, even. But inside, his heart bled with regret and self-recrimination, impenetrable to the affections of anyone outside of his immediate family and, it turned out, Maggie Campbell.

She was his type right down to her red hair and freckles. Her petite build taunted and drew him every time he was near her. And no, he couldn’t have her, but he could watch her smile and listen to the faintly exotic, lilting melody of her accent. He could save her when her antics threatened to get her in trouble, or put her to bed when she’d had too much to drink. He could watch her treat the children in her shop to fresh-baked cookies, even though it both ripped out his heart and steeled his resolve simultaneously when he saw her with them. His emotionally marginal life could be cheered by the one bright spot that he allowed himself: his unavoidable pleasure in Maggie’s company.

He could never, ever allow himself to fall in love with her because he could never, ever offer her a future…but somehow that didn’t matter enough to look away. And it made his heart twist and strain to imagine losing her presence from his life.

“Ready to review these upcoming groups,
Største
? I was thinking I would take the McCarthy group in July while you hold down the fort here. You and Lars can split up the weekend trips and one-days. Plenty to keep us busy.”

He looked up to see his father’s gentle blue eyes, so much like his own, looking at him from over the top of his glasses.

“Sure, Pop. Whatever you think is best,” he responded, half tempted—as he’d been innumerable times in the past fifteen years—to tell his father what had actually happened that horrible summer when his parents thought he was in Missoula participating in a forestry internship. But burdening his father wouldn’t ease
his
heart. And knowing the terrible, unforgiveable thing that had happened would only break his father’s heart in half.

Chapter 4

“It’s not good, Maggie,” sighed Beck Westman from behind his desk, shaking his head back and forth as he re-read the letter. He swiveled in his chair and tapped a few keys on his keyboard, then looked at the screen, grimacing. “Did a little research today after we hung up, and unfortunately I don’t think there’s much we can do.”

Maggie inhaled sharply and Nils fought the urge to grab her hand. Instead he spoke up from the guest chair beside her. “Is there
anything
she can do, Beck?”

“You know, I’m not an immigration lawyer, Nils. I deal mostly in property transfers and small-town legal affairs…family business and the occasional divorce. But, from what I can tell, Maggie, you’re in a pickle. I’m sure this wasn’t a case of flagrant disregard for the terms of your visa, but USCIS will assume this was willful negligence. They sent you a warning letter as a courtesy and you still didn’t renew that visa in time.”

“It wasn’t willful,” said Nils in her defense, feeling annoyed with Beck. “She lost the letter.”

“She’ll have a hard time proving that since she has it in her possession. Worse, she’s been operating a business for the entire time she’s been here out of status.” Beck rubbed his chin and shook his head at them. “You’re going to have to go back to Scotland and reapply for a new visa, Maggie. They’re unlikely to press criminal charges if you leave quietly.”

“But I willna be able to come back!” Her fingers bit into the intricate woodwork on the arm of the guest chair. “The letter says it’ll be three years until I can come back. And this is where my life is. My café. My friends. My—Beck, please. There must be something you can think of!”

Beck sat back in his seat and Nils watched his eyes soften again as he looked at Maggie, an uncomfortable prickle tingling down his back as he recognized the look in Beck’s eyes. Damn it, how had he missed this? Sure, he’d noticed Beck at the Prairie Dawn now and then, but everyone in town stopped by Maggie’s café. Only obvious now, in the close quarters of his office, Nils realized with a sick feeling that Beck had a thing for Maggie. It made Nils want to sucker punch the handsome young lawyer in the face.

Finally Beck sighed and gestured back and forth between Nils and Maggie meaningfully, looking first at Nils then back at Maggie. “What’s the deal here?”

“What do you mean?” asked Nils, an edge creeping into his voice.
You want to ask her out before she’s deported, dickhead?

“You two. You’re here together. Are you…a couple? Dating?”

“What business is it—” started Nils, leaning forward in his seat with narrowed eyes.

“What if we were?” interrupted Maggie in a direct voice, sliding forward to the edge of her seat.

Beck tented his hands on the table before them. “Well…marriage to a U.S. citizen forgives any time you have out of status. You wouldn’t have to renew your visa. You’d get married and your spouse—” Beck gestured to Nils loosely, still holding Maggie’s eyes “—would file for a green card. Lots of forms, you’d need to supply evidence and there could be an interview, but I believe you’d be issued a conditional green card in about six months.”

Nils’s jaw had all but dropped when Beck started speaking, the word “marriage” blaring like an air horn in his head.
Marriage. Marriage? What the hell—

“Conditional,” whispered Maggie. “For how long?”

“Two years. If the marriage lasts for two years you can apply for a permanent green card.”

“Two years.” Maggie repeated.

Nils’s brain had finally processed the bottom line of Beck’s suggestion: if Maggie married an American, she could stay. His heart sped into high gear, making him momentarily dizzy. Beck was suggesting that Nils marry Maggie, something that could never, ever happen.

Beck’s gaze shifted to Nils and whatever he saw made him raise his eyebrows and shift his eyes quickly back to Maggie. “But Maggie…if they are suspicious that your marriage is fraudulent, it could go very badly for you. Any inconsistency could be grounds for suspicion. In law school they were very clear with us not to
ever
counsel a fraudulent marriage for the purposes of citizenship. We watched a video of a Stokes interview, which happens if you’re suspected of marriage fraud, and it was brutal—they separate the spouses and ask individual questions you wouldn’t believe. They employ confession and intimidation tactics. I don’t know your…status. But unless you’re legitimately together, I wouldn’t advise you considering this route. I only mentioned it because you came here together tonight and Nils seems very invested in your staying.”

Nils looked up to meet the direct, brown eyes of his rival and nodded almost imperceptibly. Beck was right. He was invested. But marriage…marriage was impossible. His face felt uncomfortably hot and he unzipped his jacket then fidgeted with the arms of his chair nervously. Were they waiting for him to say something? Was he supposed to suddenly get down on one knee and propose? His knee bobbed up and down and he finally glanced up at Beck who was studying him quietly.

He was about to shout,
I’m not marrying anyone today!
when he felt Maggie’s hand on his. He looked down to his left where her pale freckled hand covered his, and he surprised himself by quickly turning his hand over and lacing his fingers between hers. He didn’t look at her, but held her hand tightly, and realized that the moment she touched him, his knee had stopped trembling.

Beck took a deep, resigned breath and stood up. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help. I guess you two have a big conversation ahead of you tonight, huh?”

“I guess we do,” mumbled Maggie, and Nils tightened his fingers around hers.

“If you, uh, decide to…go for it? I can get you married up quick and legal. Just pick up a license up at the courthouse in Livingston first. I should probably add…since I’m your lawyer, I’m bound not to discuss your affairs, so your marriage could easily be kept a secret until you were ready to announce it to your families.” Beck shrugged, looking at Maggie like he’d run all the way to the station only to see the taillights of the last train pulling away. “Anyway, it’s just an offer….if you decide to go that route.”

Nils looked down, adjusting his fingers between Maggie’s and noticed that his hands didn’t look monstrous entwined with hers. Her fingers were much smaller, of course—her tiny hand dwarfed by his tanned, rough-skinned mitt—but there was something protective and sturdy about his fingers laced through hers that somehow made it look okay, look almost
right
, and it made his chest ache. There was so much going on in his head it was easiest to concentrate on touching her, on the rush he felt from the contact of their fingers grasped together, on the solid, unexpected feeling of completeness that came from just holding her hand. It was easier to fool himself that just because it looked right and felt right, it
was
right. But it was an illusion, of course. He was the last person in the world who could make her happy. He just couldn’t help how it made him feel and he didn’t want to let go of it quite yet.

They stood up at the same time, and Nils half expected Maggie to drop his hand, but she didn’t. She kept her palm flush against his, and it made his heart flutter with possessiveness and yearning. He stuck out his free hand, offering it to Beck, but he held hers tightly so she couldn’t do the same.

“Thanks for seeing us, Beck,” said Maggie, softly.

Beck’s gaze lingered on Maggie’s face, flicking briefly to her lips before finding her eyes again.

Nils saw sympathy there, but want, too, and he tugged Maggie a little closer to him until he could feel the heat of her body by his side.

“Good luck, Maggie. I hope you…figure it out.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Nils quietly, a restrained warning in his gruff voice. Then he turned and pulled Maggie gently toward the door.

***

She glanced down at their joined hands. The feelings Nils was rousing in her body were so distracting, when she should be concentrating solely on her legal problems and Beck’s unexpected solution to them. It’s just that he was so strong and sturdy beside her, she just wanted to trick herself into believing he would somehow keep her safe, that by holding her hand he was offering her his protection. Which he wasn’t, of course. He was just being a supportive friend. She frowned, wanting to pull her hand away, but not daring to break the warmth of the contact. Lord, but she was weak for this man.

As they walked toward his car, she could feel the tension mounting between them. She glanced up at him, at his chiseled jawline and handsome angular face that gave away so little. She sensed there was a lot going on inside his head; she could feel it in the way he gripped her hand, in the way his jaw clenched and released repeatedly. The casual observer would be forgiven in mistaking his stern countenance for apathy, but after years of watching Nils Lindstrom, Maggie knew better. Just as his jittery knee and red cheeks had given him away when Beck suggested a green-card marriage, his stern silence was betraying him now. He was trying to figure out what to do.

“Are you cold?” he finally asked, gesturing to her open jacket with his free hand.

“No.” She took a deep breath. “I’m a bit gobsmacked.”

“Does that mean ‘turned around’?”

“Somethin’ like that.” It also meant astonished and confused. Her life was moving too fast and she wasn’t ready for it. She was still a little hung over and her visa had expired, but distracting her most of all was that something had shifted subtly in her relationship with Nils since last night, and she sensed that shift was sweeping them away to murkier waters than they’d navigated in the years they’d known one another. He’d undressed her last night, held her in his arms this morning and here they were now, holding hands as though they had a right to. Before last night, they’d never touched each other, almost ritualistic in their avoidance of crossing an invisible line that lay between them. Now that it had been crossed, they couldn’t seem to stop reaching for each other.

Maggie swallowed nervously. The word MARRIAGE hovered between them about as subtle as a purple elephant on a rhinestone leash. They needed to talk about it, even if they both only dismissed it as nonsense. She pulled back as he steered her toward his car. “Could we walk a bit, Nils? Instead of driving home?”

“It’s a little ways back to your place.”

“I dinna mind if you dinna. I could use the air. I’ll drive you back for your car in the mornin’.”