Joan Hohl – The Dakota Man (страница 3)

“’Course not,” Maggie snapped. “I’m neither that stupid nor that far gone.”

“Could’a fooled me,” Hannah drawled. “I’d say, any woman who’d tear apart a gorgeous three-thousand-dollar wedding gown in a fit of rampant rage is about as far gone as is possible for a woman to be.”

Just as tall as her friend, just as slim, and no slouch herself in the looks department, with her long mass of flaming-red hair and her creamy complexion, Maggie gave Hannah a superior look and a sugar-sweet smile.

“Indeed?” she mimicked. “Well, there’s possible, and then there’s possible. Stick around, friend, and I’ll demonstrate possibilities that’ll blow your mind.”

“You almost scare me,” Hannah said, a thread of concern woven through her husky voice. “But I will stick around…just to ensure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’m already hurt,” Maggie cried, a rush of tears to her eyes threatening to douse the fire of anger in their emerald-green depths.

“I know.” Hannah relinquished her pose in the doorway to go to Maggie. “I know,” she murmured, drawing her friend into a protective embrace.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” Maggie muttered, sniffing. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Hannah said, her voice made raspy with compassion. “That son of a bitch isn’t worth the time of day from you, never mind your tears.”

Maggie was so startled by Hannah’s curse— Hannah never cursed—she stepped back to stare at her friend in tear-drying amazement.

Hannah shrugged. “Occasionally, when I’m seriously upset or furious, I lose control of my mouth.”

“Oh.” Maggie blinked away the last of the moisture blurring her vision and swiped her hands over her wet cheeks. “Well, you must be seriously one or the other, because I’ve known you since soon after you arrived here in Philadelphia from flyover country, and this is the first time I’ve ever heard a swear word from you.”

“Actually, I’m seriously both,” Hannah drawled, her tone belying the glitter in her blue eyes. “It just fries me that you’re tearing yourself apart over that…that…slimy, two-timing, money-grabbing slug.”

“Thanks, friend,” Maggie murmured, moved by Hannah’s concern for her. “I appreciate your support.”

“You’re welcome.” A smile curved Hannah’s full lips. “And it’s Nebraska.”

“What?”

“The flyover country I come from is the State of Nebraska,” she answered.

“Oh, yeah, I knew that,” Maggie said, interest sparking in her green eyes. “What’s it like there…in Nebraska?”

Hannah frowned, as if confused by both the question and her friend’s sudden show of interest on a topic she’d never before evinced any curiosity over. “The section I came from? Mostly rural, kind of placid, and at the time I decided to move to the big city, I thought, pretty dull.”

“Sounds like just the ticket,” Maggie mused aloud in a contemplative mutter.

“Just the ticket,” Hannah repeated in astonishment. “For what? Being bored silly? What are you getting at?”

Maggie’s smile could only be described as reckless. “You know those possibilities I mentioned?”

“Ye-e-es…” Hannah eyed her with budding alarm. “But now I’m almost afraid to ask.”

Maggie laughed; it felt good, so she laughed again. “I’ll tell you, anyway. Come with me, my friend,” she invited, turning away from the room and the scattered debris that had once been her wedding gown. “Venting my spleen in here made me thirsty. We’ll talk over coffee.”

“You can’t be serious.” Her half-full cup of coffee—her third—in front of her, Hannah stared at Maggie in sheer disbelief.

“I assure you I am. Dead serious,” Maggie said, her features set in lines of determination. “I have already started the ball rolling.”

“By slashing your gown to ribbons?” Hannah asked, her tone reflecting the hope that her friend hadn’t done something even more drastic.

“Oh, that. That was symbolic.” Maggie dismissed the act with a flick of her hand. “I couldn’t stand looking at it another minute. No,” she said, shaking her head. “What I have done to get the ball rolling was to spend this lovely Sunday morning composing notes to all the guests invited to the wedding, informing them that there would be no wedding, after all, e-mailing those on-line, and preparing the rest for snail-mail delivery.”

“If you’d given me a holler, I’d have gladly helped you with that,” Hannah said, heaving a sigh of exasperation.

“Thanks, but, well…” Maggie shrugged. “That chore is done.”

“You didn’t e-mail your parents….” Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you?”

“Well, of course not. I telephoned them.” Maggie sighed. “They were understandably upset, insisted I go spend some time with them in Hawaii.”

“Good idea.”

Maggie gave a quick head shake. “No, it isn’t. They both took early retirement and moved to Hawaii to relax after Dad’s mild heart attack. If I went there, in the mood I’m in, Mom would probably knock herself out to fuss all over me. Dad would likewise fret, curtail his golf games and try to distract and entertain me. And I’d feel guilty as hell because of it.”

Hannah frowned but nodded. “I suppose.”

Maggie soldiered on. “I also drafted a letter to my superior at work, giving my one-month notice of my intention to leave the firm.”

Hannah’s eyes widened with alarm. “Maggie, you didn’t.”

“I did,” Maggie assured her, raising a hand to keep her friend from interrupting. “What’s more, I faxed a Realtor I know, asking him if he’d be interested in listing my apartment for sale.”

Hannah jumped from her chair. “Maggie, no.” She shook her head, setting her sleek, bobbed honey-brown hair swinging. “You can’t do that.”

“I damn well can,” Maggie retorted. “My grandmother left this place to me, I own it free and clear.” She rolled her eyes. “And the forever taxes that go with it.”

“But…” Her hair swung again, wildly. “Why? Where will you go? Where will you live?”

“Why? Because I’m tired of the treadmill, nose to the grindstone, following the rules.” Maggie shrugged. “Who knows, maybe I’ll join the circus.”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing this.” As if unable to remain still, Hannah began to pace back and forth in front of the table. “To give up your job, sell your apartment…” Hannah threw up her hands. “That’s crazy.”

“Hannah—” Maggie came close to shouting “—I feel crazy.”

“So you’re just going to take off?”

“Yes.”

“For how long, for Pete’s sake?”

Maggie hesitated, shrugged, then answered, “Until I’m broke, or no longer feel crazy enough to break things and hurt people… Todd what’s-his-name in particular.”

“Oh, Maggie,” Hannah murmured in commiseration, dropping onto her chair. “He’s not worth all this anguish.”

“I know that,” Maggie agreed. “But knowing it doesn’t help. So I’m cutting out, cutting loose.”

“But, Maggie…” Hannah actually wailed.

Maggie shook her head, hard. “You can’t change my mind, Hannah. I’ve got the itch to run free for a while and I’m going to scratch it.”

“But you must have some idea where you’re going,” Hannah persisted, always the one for detail.

“No.” Maggie shrugged. “Who knows, maybe I’ll wind up in Nebraska.”

Two

Three months later

The redhead knocked the breath out of him. A jolt of energy, physical and sexual in nature, made the body-blow a double whammy.

Mitch was both shocked and confused by his reaction to the woman Karla ushered into his office. It certainly wasn’t that she was a stunning beauty; she wasn’t. Oh, it wasn’t that she was not attractive; she most definitely was, very attractive. But he knew many attractive and even a few stunning women, and yet he had never experienced such a strong and immediate response to any one of them.

Strange.

Baffled, yet careful not to reveal his condition, Mitch studied the woman as she crossed the room to his desk. On closer inspection, one might even concede she possessed a particular beauty…if one had a weakness for tall, slender women with creamy skin, a wide mouth with full lips, slightly slanted forest-glen-green eyes and long, thick hair of a deep shade of flaming red.

Apparently, Mitch wryly concluded, he did have such a previously unrecognized weakness.

At least, his knees felt a little weak; he felt the tremor in them when she drew closer.

Up close, she looked even better…damn the luck.

But, one thing was for certain, Mitch mused, she sure as hell hadn’t dressed to make an impression. Her casual attire made a silent declaration of her utter disregard for conventional, or his personal, opinion.

She came to a stop next to a chair in front of his desk.