Redwing's Lady

“I’m coming.” Tossing down the towel, Maggie drew in a deep breath and hurried out to the kitchen.

When she entered the room, Aaron was pouring himself a glass of milk, and thankfully, as he chugged it down, he seemed not to notice that there was anything amiss about his mother.

“It’s so late that supper will have to be soup and a sandwich,” she told him as she began to pull plates and bowls from the cabinet.

“Okay. Can I have bologna and mustard?”

“You may.”

By the time she’d gathered the dishes together, she’d managed to focus her attention on the task of preparing a light supper. But before she started, she walked over to where her son was standing by the cabinet counter and put her forefinger beneath his chin.

Tilting his face upward for inspection, she examined his spiky, wet hair, his neck and ears and finally the bramble scratch on his arm.

Aaron began to squirm impatiently. “I’m clean, Mom. And I’m okay.”

“You have a bruise on your cheek and a scratch on your arm. We’ll deal with the scratch after you eat,” she promised, then with a weary sigh she patted his wet head. “We’re lucky that’s the only thing that happened to you.”

Satisfied that her son was clean and all in one piece, she opened the pantry and took two cans of vegetable soup from a shelf. As she emptied the contents into the saucepan, Aaron plopped down in a chair at the breakfast table and thoughtfully watched his mother’s jerky movements.

“Are you really, really mad at me?” he asked in a cowed voice.

She glanced at her son as she stirred water into the soup. Since Aaron had never done anything nearly as serious as running away, she really didn’t have a clue as to how she would punish him. And right now, dealing with his misbehavior was only a part of her problems.

“I’m not sure what I am, Aaron. I was very scared when I couldn’t find you.”

His expression was remorseful, but not nearly enough to suit Maggie.

“Well, Mom, you should have known I wouldn’t get hurt,” he said with just enough cockiness to warrant a glare from his mother.

“How did I know that, young man?”

“Well, you know that I can ride Rusty better than anybody on the ranch. Even Skinny,” he boasted.

“Is that why you fell off?” Maggie asked as she placed the pan of soup onto the gas burner.

Clearly insulted, Aaron exclaimed, “Aw, Mom! I—”

Before he could finish, a knock sounded on the kitchen door. Maggie opened her mouth to tell Aaron to answer it, but she was wasting her time. Aaron shot out of the chair like a bullet and raced to the door.

“Mom! It’s Daniel!” he shouted as though she were deaf.

“Don’t just stand there looking at him. Let him in,” she instructed her son.

Aaron flung the door wide. “You can come in, Daniel.”

“Thank you, Aaron.” With his hat in his hand, he stepped into the kitchen and glanced toward the other side of the room, where Maggie was stirring something on the gas range.

“Mom’s fixing soup,” Aaron explained. “You can stay and eat, too. If you’d like. We have plenty of bologna.”

“Aaron! Please!” Maggie scolded softly.

Aaron shot his mother a perplexed look. “Well, he can, can’t he? I thought we’re always supposed to share with company.”

Turning away from the stove, she glanced at her son before turning a strained smile on Daniel. “Sorry,” she apologized. “He doesn’t understand that bologna isn’t something you offer a guest.”

As Daniel looked at her, one corner of his mouth lifted into a faint grin, and Maggie felt her heart skip into a rapid dance against her rib cage. It wasn’t right that the man looked so good to her—too good, in fact.

“I don’t know why not,” Daniel told her. “I think it’s pretty tasty stuff.”

Maggie released a breath of air she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Then why don’t you wash your hands here at the sink and I’ll have everything on the table in just a few minutes.”

He moved farther into the room with Aaron glued to his side.

“I wasn’t hinting to be fed supper,” he said, unable to pull his eyes away from her.

Jolted by the fact that he was so near to her again, she turned back to the soup. “I know you weren’t. But you’re welcome to join us. Offering you a sandwich is the least I can do after all you’ve done for me and Aaron.”

Staring at her for a few more moments, Daniel wondered why she didn’t want to look at him, why she had run from him after kissing him so deeply, so sweetly. It didn’t make sense to him. But then, Daniel didn’t know much about the way a woman’s mind worked.

Even though he’d often dreamed of how it might be to have a family, a real family that stayed together and loved each other through thick and thin, he’d never actually pictured himself in the role of husband or father. A man had to know about a thing before he could be good at it, and Daniel had been taught very little about love. Especially from a father who’d lacked any sort of morals, decency or human kindness.

“Come on, Daniel.” Aaron grabbed his forearm and urged him toward an open doorway to their right. “I’ll show you where the mudroom is. It’s easier to wash your hands in there.”

The two males entered the small utility area and as Daniel washed his hands at a deep galvanized sink, Aaron sidled up to him and said, “I’m worried about Mom. She’s acting strange. Like she’s sick or something. Do you think me running off has made her sick?”

Daniel glanced through the open doorway of the mudroom. From this position, he could see Maggie standing at the gas range. Her shoulders were slumped, her head slightly bent. She had to be exhausted, he thought. He was certainly feeling the long ride and he was accustomed to straddling a horse. Yet he figured her quietness had nothing to do with her fatigue. She was upset with him because he’d kissed her. And probably even with herself because she’d kissed him back.

Glancing down at the boy’s troubled face, he said gently, “No. I don’t believe your mother is ill. I think she’s very tired. You put her through the wringer, you know. You should be a little ashamed of yourself.”

Grimacing, Aaron hung his head. “Yeah. I guess I am,” he mumbled contritely, then suddenly his head jerked up and he shot Daniel a bright smile. “But I’ll make it up to her. I’ll do all sorts of chores and she won’t even have to ask me! Just watch!”

Aaron dashed out of the mudroom and over to his mother. By the time Daniel joined them, the boy was busy placing plates and utensils on the table.

“Is there something I can do?” Daniel offered as he stood beside her at the range.

Maggie darted a glance up at him, then quickly turned her attention back to the boiling soup. His nearness made her tremble as though there were an earthquake inside her, and she deeply resented the fact that he had such a powerful effect on her. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything for this man.

“No. I think everything is ready. Go ahead and take a seat.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.

Without looking at him, she said stiffly, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

Daniel glanced around to see that Aaron was still at the table and out of earshot. “Maggie, about that kiss—”

“I’m not going to talk about that!” she interrupted in a rushed hush. “Not here! Not now!”

Frowning thoughtfully, Daniel studied her bent head. “When?”