Chapter 21
“Oh, stop it,” Maggie coos, brushing her hand in the air to get me to stop, but I can’t help it.
Her skin is so warm, and my face is so cold.
I wrap her up from behind again, and she wriggles in my arms. “You gotta stop, Bode Walker. If Ford finds out that you’ve corrupted his newest farmhand, there will be heck to pay! ”
“Heck,” I chuckle at her word choice and kiss her jaw and then the side of her throat.
“It’s not funny!” She tries to squirm free again. “He was dead serious when I took this job that I wasn’t supposed to cause trouble.”
“Oh, now this is causing trouble?” I tease her, “You weren’t saying that last night.”
“Don’t you start, if I’m blushing he’ll see right through me.”
“He’s probably not even here,” I say, opening the door for her.
I tap my boots on the mat as I enter the farmhouse, bundled in my jacket and gloves. It smells of sugar and vanilla inside. The snow hasn't let up since we came off the mountain, and most of our time has been spent shoveling slush, feeding livestock, and switching out blankets to keep them warm.
Ford has been arguing back and forth at the station over Twelve Acres and the danger they present to Whiskey River and the rest of the town. We see him for dinner, and he spends most of it chewing on his fork instead of talking to us.
Securing the safety of the Ranch isn’t just Ford’s job, it’s something he should let us all help deal with.
But he buckles down, he keeps quiet, he leaves out details.
We’re all walking on glass, waiting for something to give or explode.
Whatever it is, he’s keeping it at bay, but he’s just one man, and the landslide is coming.
Speak of the devil.
Ford is leaning up against the counter with a coffee in his hand as Dot moves around the kitchen making a mess with their baking.
He looks up from his phone and narrows his eyes at me, but doesn’t say a word before redirecting his attention to Maggie.
It still baffles me how he goes from grunting like a caveman to actual words when he sees her.
“You’re back.” Maggie smiles, doing her best to ignore me again.
She slips out of her coat and tucks it over the stool next to him.
“I won’t even ask how things went, you’ve got that extra grouchy look on today.
” She waves a finger in his face and moves around the counter to plant a kiss on the side of Dot’s head.
“She’s not wrong,” I grumble with a smirk and lean on the counter across from him.
“Oh, quit giving him flak,” Dot warns gently as she dumps an enormous amount of chocolate chips into her mixer. “He’s had enough.”
“I’m fine.” Ford grunts and pushes off the counter. “Don’t you two have work to do anyway?”
Maggie grabs an apron from the pantry and nods. “I’m on cookie duty.”
Ford glances over at her with a raised brow, and for a moment, I think he’s actually going to pop her little happy bubble, but I’m surprised when he just shakes his head. “Fine as long as you bring some down to the bunkhouse.”
“I’ll make the boys their own container,” she coos.
“They’re men, Maggie,” Ford grumbles.
“Right,” Maggie says, rolling her pretty blue eyes and handing Dot a clean bowl.
They move in stages around each other, and it’s the first time in a while that Maggie seems at ease.
There are no knots between her shoulders or frown lines around her eyes, she’s just happy and relaxed, laughing with Dot.
I grab myself a cup of coffee and lean against the island across from Ford, who’s ignoring everyone but his phone. When Maggie turns to grab something from the fridge, I brush my fingertips against her side, earning a dirty look that’s far from scary as she scrunches up her nose.
It’s like a switch has been flipped inside me.
The stress of what’s going on with Whiskey River is there, like an anvil on my chest but it feels a little lighter when Maggie-Mae looks at me like that.
Ever since the night we got stuck on the mountain, it’s been like that.
I find myself sinking back into that grouchy state, and Maggie shines the light on all the dark spots I try to hide in just by being around.
It had also been a week since I’d gotten to touch her properly, and the stupid, feral animal inside my pants was going through withdrawals. She returns to Dot, and I turn my attention back to Ford, wishing just for a second he’d excuse himself so I could stare at the sun without getting caught.
“What needs to happen this week?” I ask Ford, just trying to fill the silence before I went nuts.
“Your job,” he snaps back.
“You know what I meant, Ford.”
His dark eyes look up from the phone, and he shakes his head in annoyance. “There’s nothing you can do for me.”
“Why don’t you let me make that decision?” I say back. Maggie turns to eye me, silently telling me to drop it, but I’m sick of Ford walking around with the world on his shoulders and taking it out on everyone else.
“It’s not the time or the place, Walker.” He completely ignores my demand and goes back to staring at his phone. “Keep the ranch running, keep the cattle fed, and keep your mouth shut.”
A deep chuckle leaves me. “Right.”
Ford takes that as enough, shoving his phone away and throwing the rest of the coffee back before he excuses himself and leaves the house. Maggie wanders around me and into the large pantry just as Dot spins on me.
“He started that one,” I raise both hands in defence.
“You’re both acting like children,” Dot says, setting down the bowl, and I reach over to steal a piece of dough, but she slaps my hand. “Ford just needs you to help him in all the areas he can’t control right now, Bode, and you need to just let him handle the rest.”
“He’s supposed to let us help handle it all, not just the stuff he thinks we can manage. It’s nonsense,” I say, trying for the bowl again, only for her to raise the wooden spoon in her hand.
“It’s Ford.” She says it like that’s the end of the conversation. Like him being the way he is trumps everything else going on and… maybe it does but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating that he’s just allowed to do it.
“This is our home, Dottie. It doesn’t just belong to him, not anymore,” I say quietly, my voice betraying my hurt. She nods, understanding the frustration that’s mounting, and presses her floured hand to my face. “Sorry,” I choke out, “I didn’t mean to take the frustration out on you.”
“You didn’t, Bode-boy, I’m fine.” She pats me. “Now, Maggie might have fallen into a trapdoor in that pantry. I'd better go see what’s taking her so long.”
“I’ll check,” I say a little too fast, and Dot’s eyes narrow on me. “I’m going that way anyway,” I make up a quick excuse and take a few steps back.
I dip into the pantry and slide the door over just enough to give us some privacy and find Maggie on her tiptoes trying to reach a bin of chocolate chips on the very top shelf.
“Whatcha doing?” I click my teeth at her, and she scowls.
“That height ain't good for nothin' but helping out a pretty girl,” she says. “Now, be a gentleman.” She points to the bin and lowers onto her heels, allowing me to slide into the narrow space chest to chest with her. I reach up and palm the plastic in my hand, but hold it out of her reach.
“What do I get for helping?” I ask her.
“You get to leave this pantry with your chivalry intact, Cowboy,” she grumbles.
“Oh, Wildflower, you have mistaken me for someone else because I am no gentleman, and if I’m going to help, I expect a reward for collecting the bounty.” I tease her and she swipes at the bin, losing her balance and falling against my chest enough for me to wrap my free arm around her.
“Smart mouth. Give me my chocolate chips before someone comes looking for us and finds us like this,” she scolds, but there’s a smile on her lips that wasn’t there before.
I lean a little closer to her, closing the gap between our lips enough to feel her breath on my skin.
“Bode,” she whines a little when I don’t give in to her demands.
“Magnolia,” I hum back and wait.
Her eyes never leave mine as she pushes back on her toes and connects us with a soft kiss that’s warm and welcoming after a long week of her dancing around doing it again.
I press my hand flat against her lower back and pull her closer to me to deepen the kiss and linger there until she protests with a tiny growl from her throat.
“Alright, alright.” My voice is husky as I try to catch my breath, and I lower the bin so she can take it from me, but don’t let her go just yet.
With my free hand, I capture her neck and steal one more breathless kiss that causes her to melt into my grip.
“Go,” I clear my throat and pull away before I sink too deep and ask for too much.