What Were You Expecting? (9 page)

He paused at the middle of the bridge, holding onto the railing with his free hand and looking at the rushing river below.

“So, what do you say, Maggie May?”

Her outside hand gripped the cold railing like his, but her inside hand was still braided with his between them. Her answer was soft and a little broken, but clear in his grateful ears. “Okay.”

He turned to look down at her upturned face and felt a smile burst across his face. He felt like taking her cheeks in his hands and kissing her. He felt like taking her back to his place and making love to her all night. He felt like laughing. She was saying yes to being his wife. Even if it was only on paper. She was saying yes. He brought her knuckles to his lips and brushed them softly, whispering against them, “Yes?”

“Aye.” Her eyes were wide and surprised as she watched him kiss her hand. When he raised his head, she gave him the impish grin that he loved almost more than anything else in the world, her eyes finally twinkling for him over rosy cheeks. “Yes.”

Chapter 5

Five days later, Maggie left the Prairie Dawn in the capable hands of her assistant, Bethany, crossed the street to sit on a picnic table overlooking the Yellowstone River, and waited for Nils to pick her up. It was finally warming up again so she unzipped her parka, leaning back on her hands and letting the high sun bathe her face as the river rushed furiously below. About thirty yards away, an elk sauntered by slowly, occasionally grazing on the brown and green grass and pointedly ignoring her. Again she experienced the wave of gratitude for Nils Lindstrom’s clumsy, unromantic proposal, gratitude for facilitating her stay in this untamed place that had come to mean so much to her. Gardiner would be her home now—would
always
be her home—and Nils had made it possible. Whatever unarticulated feelings lay between them, her thanks would never be ambiguous. He had saved her bacon, and it was another reason she loved him.

For the better part of three years she’d loved Nils Lindstrom, but Maggie wasn’t the sort of girl to throw herself at an unwilling suitor, and for all of Nils’s kindness toward her, he’d never given her a solid indication that he saw her as anything more than a friend. Despite the fact that she’d joined his family for Christmas dinners and Easter brunches. Despite the way he watched her as they played euchre twice a week with Lars and Paul, or the way he always seemed to swoop in and look after her when she was in a jam. And though she
sensed
his affection for her went deeper than friendship, he was careful to always,
always
, remind her that they were friends and he didn’t see her romantically.

And yet.

When he’d held her close on Monday morning and wound his fingers through hers as they walked back from Beck’s office? She had almost fooled herself that they were actually going somewhere. Again, when he convinced her to marry him instead of Paul, she wondered if jealousy could have possibly played a part in his proposal, rather than friendship. And while she’d taken a day or two to savor the deliciousness of the notion, she’d been forced to abandon the fantasy because Nils had insisted—in no uncertain terms after euchre last night—that their status quo as friends remain unaffected.

After they’d finished their game and Paul and Lars had said good-night, Nils had stayed to help her turn the chairs up on the tables. They’d worked quietly in the dim light without speaking, their shared secret buzzing like an electrical current between them.

“Maggie,” he’d said as she took the broom out of her office and started sweeping. “Can we talk about tomorrow?”

She leaned on the broom handle and looked up at him. He stood tall and impossibly beautiful in the center of the room with his hands on his hips. The dim light caught the light blond of his hair, and she longed to cross to him and reach up to catch one of the locks on the back of his neck and thread it softly through her fingers. His icy eyes were stern, as usual, but he bit his bottom lip, and she couldn’t help the way her gaze darted to it, staring at his lips for a moment before catching his eyes again.

“Of course.” She gestured to the loveseat beside him. “Do you want to sit?”

He sat down on the faded floral slipcover, taking up more than half of the settee, and when she sat down beside him, her hip grazed his. He flinched, but Maggie didn’t move away. She liked that she affected him. She wanted her body on his radar.

“Walk me through it,” he said in a low, gravelly voice.

She wanted to put her hand on his arm, but decided against it. Since Monday he hadn’t reached for her or touched her again, and the thought that he might pull away from her was enough for her not to risk it.

“You pick me up here at noon. We go up to the courthouse in Livingston. Dinna forget your birth certificate and driver’s license. We complete the application, I pay the fifty-three dollars and we’re back in time for our five o’clock wed—, um,
appointment
with Beck.”

When she glanced at him to her right, he clenched his jaw twice, staring down at his lap where his hands were clasped between his spread legs. He nodded once, curt and businesslike. “Okay.”

She wondered if sharing some more details would help him feel easier about it. “Beck’s secretary, Emma, will be there. To witness”

“Emma Branson?” asked Nils, raising his eyebrows as he looked at her.

“Yes. And Emma’s daughter. Um, Tess. She’s visitin’. Beck understands that we want to keep everything quiet and he thought Tess would be a good person to witness because she goes back to Billings on Sunday.”

“Tess Branson,” said Nils quietly, looking away from Maggie as his face reddened perceptibly.

“No. That wasn’t it. Tess…uh, Flynn. Flynn, I think.”

“Right,” said Nils, shifting away and losing contact with Maggie’s hip.

“You know her?” asked Maggie, a little bit intrigued and a little bit jealous that any woman’s name got this big a reaction from Nils.

“Yeah. She was, um…well, we sort of, um, I mean we occasionally, that is…well, she’s married now. It doesn’t matter.”

“Was she a—a high school girlfriend?” She hated the hopeful tone in her voice.

“No. Later.”

“How much later?” This was surprisingly unpleasant news and Maggie couldn’t keep the slight edge out of her voice.

In all the time Maggie had known Nils, she never remembered him dating anyone, and she certainly would have remembered. It was strangely upsetting to think he’d had a girlfriend at some point while she’d known him and she’d been none the wiser. Aside from the overwhelming jealousy that was making her stomach flip over again and again, it meant he
did
date. He just didn’t date her.

“A few years ago.”

“Before I moved here?”

“Around that time.”

“She was your girlfriend?”

“Not exactly,” his voice was low, like he was getting annoyed with the questions. He looked at her askance, giving her a warning look, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Who was she to you?” she whispered, hating the quasi-demanding tone she heard in her voice. It reeked of jealousy she didn’t have a right to. Their marriage would be a business arrangement. Where he spent his private time was none of her affair…and yet, and yet, oh, God…she couldn’t help the pain that twisted her heart at the mere thought of
her
Nils sharing his body, his bed, with anyone but her.

“That’s enough, Maggie.”

“Please tell me,” she whispered, not even sure what she was begging him for.

His eyes had been trained on his lap, but now he looked up at her, and she saw the familiar longing in his eyes. His blush spread to his neck and he looked away from her, shrugging. “She was a friend. She was…no strings attached.”

“Oh.” Maggie’s breath came out in a rush, which was strange because she didn’t realize she’d been holding it. Her cheeks flushed hot as she understood his meaning. They’d had an
arrangement
. “Oh. I—you and she were…”

He looked up at her again and Maggie swallowed, surprised by how much it bothered her that Nils had slept with this Tess, no matter how long ago. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she absorbed the fact that while he wasn’t interested in dating her, he’d had his
needs
met by someone. She blinked twice and stood up, circling around the loveseat to grab the broom and move it slowly to the sounds of Van Morrison singing “Tupelo Honey” softly on the overhead speakers.

It made no sense that she felt like crying. He owed her nothing. He’d never promised her anything. Even their “marriage” was an agreement between friends. She had no right to feel so sad, but she did. And she couldn’t help it.

“We were just friends who occasionally…” His voice trailed off as he watched her from where he remained seated on the loveseat. “And I ended it when—”

“It’s none of my business,” she forced herself to answer, looking away from him, staring at the floor like sweeping it was the most important thing she’d ever done in her entire life. You’re being stupid, Maggie. He’s a man. Men have needs. And apparently this Tess had been there to meet them.
Why couldn’t it have been me?
the voice in her head demanded, and she shrugged it off. She knew the answer.
He doesn’t see you like that…never has, never will.

He sighed loudly, standing up and putting his hands back on his hips in a gesture that was nervous, defensive and sorry all at once. “One other thing. I just need to say this…to be sure we’re on the same page…”

Maggie stopped sweeping.

“What we’re doing tomorrow? The green-card marriage? It doesn’t change anything between us, Maggie. It can’t. We’re still just friends.” He used his thumb to swipe at his bottom lip and his eyes bored into hers with intensity and determination. Hidden behind that show of strength, she saw a little bit of sadness, too. “It’s an agreement. It’s a contract. That’s all.”

Her chest tightened and her heart pounded with the force of her feelings. Part of her wanted to cross the room, throw her arms around his neck and kiss him—pour her feelings into that single action and try to convince him that there could be so much more between them if he’d only try to see her as something more than his friend, if he could only see her as he’d seen this Tess woman. Her eyes burned and she looked quickly away.

He pressed on. “I need to know that you understand that.”

“Understood.”

“I’m glad to do it, I just…”

“Please stop. I said I understand.” She clenched her jaw twice, looking at the small pile of dirt on the ground. When she could be sure she wouldn’t cry, she lifted her gaze, slamming her eyes into his. “And I’m grateful to you.”

He took a deep breath and sighed, zipping up his jacket. “See you tomorrow?”

It took all of her strength to offer him a small smile. “Tomorrow.”

Van Morrison was singing “Crazy Love” as she watched him leave. She crossed the room, locked the door and dimmed the lights to almost dark. She knew it wouldn’t do for the whole town to see her tears as she swept up the rest of the floor.

It was exasperating that despite the baldness of his words, by the next morning, they still hadn’t gotten through to her heart. Either her heart was a total glutton for punishment or the stupidest heart ever born, because when she looked at herself in the mirror this morning, that wayward heart had leaped with joy and she’d whispered, “I’m getting married today,” to her reflection. All she could think was that by tomorrow, nothing in her life would have materially changed except for one very small detail: she’d be married to Nils Lindstrom. By tomorrow, the man she loved would be her husband. Her
husband
.

And deep in her heart, a part of her—a small, foolish part of her—admitted that it had partially accepted his proposal because she hoped that what would begin tonight as a marriage on paper only might, over time, find its way toward authenticity—that being so legally bound to Nils might somehow help him make the leap from friendship to love. In light of his feelings, it was a foolish and dangerous hope, but nonetheless it thrummed desperately with every beat of her heart.

And now here she sat, waiting for him to pick her up so they could get a license and say their I do’s. She looked down at her watch, shifting on the picnic table to make sure Nils wasn’t looking for her yet.

While she had a few extra minutes to herself, she gave herself a stern talking-to. She had no right to expect anything of him. She had no right to feel anything when he mentioned an old girlfriend. She had no claim on him, and even today, when she looked into his eyes and repeated her wedding vows, she wouldn’t have any real claim on him. She’d sooner die than repay his kindness with unfounded expectations or jealousy. So despite her own wishes and the love she bore for him in her heart, she was determined to be his friend. If that’s what he wanted than she would shove her feelings to the side and, at least outwardly, be a good friend to him. She was committed to giving him whatever he wanted.

She twisted again to see Nils approaching from the street. He wore his usual barn coat unzipped over a navy blue plaid flannel shirt with a gray t-shirt beneath. Both were tucked into worn-out blue jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and covered the tops of his scuffed cowboy boots in frayed denim. He was slightly bow-legged and all man. All he lacked was a hat and a horse, and he’d be the epitome of a modern cowboy. Her mouth watered as he neared.