The Pregnant Ms. Potter

“Is that so? And did they teach you at Vassar to drive through blizzards and risk your fool neck?” Pete knew he was being unreasonably hard—he didn’t know the woman, after all—but he had good reasons. The best of reasons.

“What they taught me was to be independent, which I am. And to compete in a man’s world, which I’ve done, quite successfully, thank you very much. They also taught me about male chauvinists who don’t like women. Men such as yourself, Mr. Taggart.”

“Oh, I like women just fine, Miz Potter, ma’am,” he replied, exaggerating the feminist moniker. “I like ’em hot, naked and under me.”

Maddy swallowed her gasp, her lips thinning. “You, Mr. Taggart, are…are…never mind. You just are.” She didn’t want to anger the Neanderthal and find herself dumped back out in the snow, so she kept her unflattering opinion to herself. She doubted a man with a head as thick as a tree trunk would listen anyway.

Pete grinned, noting the heightened color to her cheeks. “I suspect so, ma’am. But I know when to come out of the rain, or, in this case, snow.”

“I admit it was foolish of me to attempt driving to Mary Beth’s house during the storm, but I was anxious to see my sister. And I wasn’t planning on getting lost or having my car skid off the road.”

“Hit the brakes, did you? Didn’t your daddy ever teach you never to hit the brakes during a skid?”

Maddy counted silently to ten, unclenched her teeth and said, “My daddy, as you refer to my father, Mr. Taggart, was more enamored with raising his prized Duroc pigs than with raising me or my sister, or teaching us how to drive. That task fell to my mother.”

Most things having to do with Maddy or Mary Beth had fallen to their mother, and it had come as no surprise when Sarah Potter’s heart had finally given out, from a defective valve, the doctors had said. But Maddy felt her mother’s death had really been caused by Andrew Potter’s indifference and self-absorption, his total lack of awareness where others were concerned. Another grievance in a long list of grievances to heap upon her father’s head.

The hurt in Maddy Potter’s voice was unmistakable, so Pete backed off. The woman obviously had some unresolved issues with her old man, and he wasn’t interested in hearing them.

“It’s not much farther to the house. Once you’ve had a hot bath and hearty meal, you’re going to feel a whole lot better.”

A hot bath! Was the man insane? She had no intention of taking off her clothes in a stranger’s house. Not that she could, even if she wanted to. Her suitcase was still in the trunk of the rental car—something she neglected to mention. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Taggart, but I’ll just use your phone, if that’s all right, and be on my way. I wouldn’t want to cause you any more trouble.”

“Afraid that’s not going to be possible, ma’am,” he said, and Maddy knew a moment of fear. After all, she didn’t know this man from Adam. He could be a rapist or sadistic killer, although, he certainly didn’t seem to be. What he seemed to be was rude, arrogant, the Marlboro man come to life.

Nervous, she started humming Jingle Bells, and he looked at her strangely. “Phone lines are down and the electricity’s out. I suspect we won’t have phone service again for weeks. Fir and pine trees have been snapping like twigs all morning and afternoon. And the forecast is for at least six to eight more inches of snow before morning. I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere for a while.”

The dismay she felt reflected in her voice. “But—but my clothes are back in the car. And my sister is expecting me.” That wasn’t quite the truth. She’d never gotten around to calling Mary Beth. She didn’t want to get into any explanations about why she was coming until she could speak to her sister in person.

It was a conversation she dreaded having. Mary Beth had always been so proud of Maddy’s accomplishments, of her working her way through college and making something of herself in the business world. And Mary Beth, who desperately wanted a child, couldn’t conceive one, while Maddy had had no such problem. The conversation wouldn’t be easy on several levels.

“It would have been helpful, ma’am, if you’d mentioned about the clothes while we were back at the car.” He didn’t bother to hide his exasperation. “It’s going to be a while before we can get her towed.” Perhaps weeks, Pete thought. Willis Helmsley’s tow truck was about as reliable as Willis, who wasn’t very.

She turned her attention back to him. “I wasn’t thinking beyond surviving, Mr. Taggart. I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you.”

“I’m not the one without any clothes, Miz Potter. But I’m sure we can find something for you to wear.” He still had all of Bethany’s clothing stored up in the attic, but he wouldn’t offer her any of those garments.

Even after four years, memories of Bethany were painful. And the anger still festered like an open wound that would never heal. Pete wasn’t sure he wanted it to. The anger at least made him feel alive. And it served as a constant reminder of how stubborn, self-centered and foolish women could be.

THE MULTICOLORED, four-story Victorian house stood out amidst the pristine white snow. It had been painted a buttery yellow with dark green shutters, its gingerbread trim accented in a deep cinnamon color. And it was hardly the house Maddy expected rugged rancher Pete Taggart to own. A log cabin would have suited the man much better. Or better yet—a cave!

“It looks like something out of a fairy tale,” she remarked, instantly enamored of the wide wraparound front porch, which probably sported a swing in the warmer months. She secretly dreamed of owning such a house but knew her modern, efficient cubicle of a Manhattan apartment would have to do.

“Thanks. It’s been in the family for generations. My great-grandmother Maggie Taggart had it built with the intention that a Taggart would always live in it.”

“Then she was lucky her offspring produced males.”

Pete laughed, and his face took on an entirely different appearance. With his dark hair, light blue eyes and chiseled features, he was already ridiculously handsome. But now those features were relaxed, his eyes smiling, and he looked almost appealing.

“Luck had nothing to do with it, or so I’ve been told. Great-grandma Maggie was a determined woman. She wouldn’t have accepted anything less than a grandson from either one of her boys.”

“Hard to believe you dislike women so much when you’ve got such a sterling example of womanhood as your ancestor. I doubt your great-grandmother would have approved of your attitude.” He said nothing, but his mouth set in a grim line, indicating his displeasure.

Great! Maddy thought, wondering why she just didn’t learn to keep her mouth shut and her opinions to herself. Of course, there were some people—CEOs of large corporations, for example—who paid a lot of money to hear those very opinions.

She’d been on the fast track with Lassiter, Owens and Cumberland until her pregnancy had caused a derailment and brought her career to a screeching halt. But she refused to think about that now. It was too depressing! Better to pull a Scarlett O’Hara and think about it later, tomorrow, never!

Hauling Maddy into the house like a sack of feed, Pete deposited her in the center of the front hallway, where they were immediately assaulted by a barking, tail-wagging mutt.

Smiling at the dog, he bent over to scratch him behind the ear and was rewarded with several enthusiastic swipes of his tongue. “This is Rufus. He’s harmless. And he likes women.”

The homely creature wasn’t a true Taggart then, Maddy thought uncharitably.

“Make yourself at home. Guest room’s on the left at the top of the stairs. There’s a bath attached and a clean robe hanging on the back of the door, if you want to take a hot soak. I’ll be back in a bit. I’ve got to check on my animals. Make sure they’re okay. Come on, Rufus.” He whistled for the dog, who followed him loyally to the door, though Maddy sensed he’d rather be anywhere but outside in the cold snow.

She nodded, too startled to say much else. And what she was tempted to say could only get her into a great deal of trouble, of which she had plenty already. “Thank you,” she finally managed, watching all six feet two inches of him disappear out into the frigid snowstorm.

Removing her shoes, Maddy wiggled her frozen toes, then padded across hardwood floors, inspecting first one room then another. The front parlor was filled with antique furnishings; knickknacks and framed photographs hung on rose-and-green-floral-papered walls. The Taggart family, she assumed, studying an old daguerreotype of two handsome men who looked enough alike to be brothers.

Goodness, but the Taggart men had great genes!

After making use of the bathroom, she entered the kitchen, where she found the makings for tea. Deciding to take Pete Taggart at his word, Maddy proceeded to make herself at home.

She was still cold, despite the fact the house was warmed by a very efficient woodstove. As she waited for the kettle of water to boil, she plopped down on one of the pine ladder-backed chairs at the long trestle table, which had seen some use over the years, judging from the deep scars and nicks, and surveyed the large room.

It had all the modern conveniences one would expect of a kitchen, but still retained an old-fashioned charm with the heart-of-pine cabinets and wide-planked pine flooring, covered in part by a round multicolored braided rug. Shiny copper pots hung over the center island, and cheery apple-patterned curtains framed the window over the double cast-iron sink.

The teapot whistled, and finding tea bags in one of the copper canisters on the counter, she fixed herself a cup of the steaming liquid. “Heavenly,” she murmured after taking a sip, allowing the warmth to penetrate and consume her.

The back door slammed shut, and Maddy turned to find her host entering the kitchen, Rufus following close on his heels. The dog flopped down on the braided rug and promptly went to sleep.

Pete had removed his jacket and boots, but his denims were soaked from the snow; they hugged his muscular thighs in a very intriguing fashion. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, not liking where her thoughts had traveled. If there was one thing she didn’t need right now, it was another complication. “I made myself some tea.” His face was chapped red, and he looked chilled to the bone.

“Don’t mind at all, if you’re sharing.” He blew into his hands to warm them.

She filled a ceramic mug with hot water and a tea bag, then set it down before him. “It’s a good thing you’ve got gas appliances, or we’d really be in a fix with the power out.”

“Only the stove’s gas, the rest are electric, so we’re still in a fix. But I’ve got plenty of kerosene lanterns, and the woodstove and fireplaces will keep the house warm.”

“Guess you’re used to this kind of storm.”

Pete shrugged, trying not to notice the way her soft brown hair, shot with streaks of gold, framed a very lovely face, or the way her eyes, the color of green clover, sparkled prettily. “I should be. I’ve had to live with them for thirty-six years.”

“Is there a town close by? I couldn’t see much of the surrounding area, with the way the snow was blowing. I need to get my car repaired.”

“Sweetheart’s about twelve miles to the west of us. It’s small, so there aren’t many amenities. If you want things like malls and movie theaters, you’ve got to drive to Colorado Springs or Canyon City, and I wouldn’t hold your breath about the car. If Willis can tow it out, and that’s a big if, it’s doubtful he’ll have the parts to make the repairs right away. He’ll have to order them from Denver, and that could take a while. Plus, Willis has a real aversion to working in cold weather.”

Maddy was genuinely concerned. “But I need my car. I need to—”