- Maggie Mae

Trace Spencer pulled into his girlfriend’s driveway five minutes early. They hadn’t been on a date in a while and he was excited. He had a fun night planned out. As he jumped out of his truck he was whistling to himself. Hannah came out of the house with a grin and threw herself into his arms. It was strange how he had to steel himself against his own girlfriend’s kiss.

They both climbed in his black Chevy pickup truck and he tore out of the driveway leaving a trail of dust. Hannah’s dad hated when he did that. And since the two of them weren’t on the best terms…

“So, where’re we going tonight?” Hannah simpered.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh come on. Give me a hint!” she wheedled.

Thoughts of Maggie Brogan flashed through his mind. Maggie never would have asked for a hint. She would have been perfectly happy to go with whatever he planned. Then again, that could be why she was his best friend and not his girlfriend. Not that that made much sense if he would let himself think about it.

His phone vibrated on his hip and blared the lyrics to Trace Adkins Rough and Ready. He jumped to answer it. Maggie’s home number came across the front screen. He frowned. She knew he was on a date and wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important. It was a sensitive subject to her. She knew a lot of girls couldn’t handle his best friend being a girl.

“Yup?” He grinned as he pictured her scowling at his answer. It drove her nuts.

“Trace? I know you’re on a date right now but I think someone’s trying to get into my house and I can’t get hold of my dad or brother and I’m not sure and I don’t want to call the police. But Ringer’s going crazy and I don’t know what to do!”

The pure terror in her voice prompted his foot to slam on the brakes.

“Maggie. Take a deep breath. Calm down. You’re fine. Ringer will scare anyone off. I’m on my way,” he said as calmingly as he could. Maggie hadn’t been getting better about being left home alone as long as her massive mutt was with her, but she was still prone to panic attacks. Not that he blamed her after what happened.

“I’m really scared Trace,” she whimpered.

He turned the truck around, unmindful of other traffic. Nothing but getting to Maggie and making sure she was safe mattered at the moment. He’d even forgotten his girlfriend and their date. If he would have been paying attention he would have noticed the murderous look on Hannah’s face.

Thankfully he hadn’t been far from her home. Within seconds he pulled in the driveway. He turned his truck off and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He forgot to shut his door though.

----

Hannah glared at Trace as he rushed toward the house. The first question he’d asked her when she asked him out was whether she had a problem with his best friend being a girl. Of course her answer was no, and she didn’t. She did have a problem with him dropping everything as soon as Maggie so much as acted like she may need him. Hannah smirked bitterly to herself. She wondered how long it was going to take for him to notice he was hopelessly and completely in love with Maggie Brogan as she climbed out of the truck. How was she supposed to hold onto someone that was in love with another girl? It was simple: she couldn’t. So she pulled out her cell phone and called her brother to come pick her up at the end of the driveway. Trace wouldn’t notice she was gone for a while. That’s how it always went.

Maggie called and Hannah didn’t exist anymore. If Maggie was hanging out with them, Hannah didn’t exist anymore. And it wasn’t that Maggie tried to steal his attention away. If anything she loathed to take his attention when Hannah was around. She was always very apologetic about it. So to top it off Hannah couldn’t even hate Maggie for it.

When Hannah asked Trace to go on a date with her she had been ecstatic when he reluctantly agreed. In fact, he had only agreed at Maggie’s insistence that he needed a break from her. Hannah couldn’t help scoffing at her friend’s warnings that Trace was only interested in the blonde tomboy, whether he knew it or not. When he agreed to go out with her the first time she had been convinced she was going to change his mind. Now she knew she couldn’t. No one could change a person’s mind when that person didn’t even know his mind was made up.

----

Maggie flung the front door open and collapsed into Trace’s arms. He drew her as close to his body as she could get. She was trembling and scared out of her mind. Her eyes were clouded and Trace knew she was reliving that night again. Trace held her tight to his chest and felt her burst into tears.

He maneuvered the two of them into the house and kicked the door shut. Maggie was clinging to his shirt as though it were her only life line. She seemed to try to melt into him as he slowly sat on the leather couch. He merely stroked her hair and hummed Amazing Grace as she curled up in his lap. It was the only thing they had found that could calm her down.

She quieted almost immediately. He didn’t stop until her white knuckled fists relaxed and her breathing regulated. Only then did he press his lips to her forehead and pick up the phone to call Ron and Danny Brogan. Ron, her dad, was the sheriff. Danny, her brother, was a deputy. Trace needed someone to come check around the house. He hadn’t seen Maggie this shaken up for nearly a year.

“Hello?”

“Danny? This is Trace. Can you send a car out to your house? Maggie’s had a bit of a scare.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve got her. I’d appreciate if you’d hurry. Ringer still hasn’t calmed down. He’s got me a little on edge too,” Trace said, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice. The big dog with his almost calico patches and brown streaked blue eyes was pacing by the back door, his hackles were raised and he looked utterly ferocious. Trace hadn’t ever seen the big dog look more wolf like.

“I’m on my way with the Sheriff.”

“Appreciate it.”

With that the two men hung up the phone. Maggie regarded Trace with red rimmed gold flecked green eyes.

“He’s in the garage.”

Trace stared at her, his mind not quite comprehending what she was saying.

“Who’s in the garage?” he asked carefully.

“The guy. I locked him in the garage. He went in the man door and I ran out and locked it. There’s no way to open the garage from the inside and no windows to get out. He’s in the garage,” she repeated.

Trace was taken by a multitude of emotions: fear, rage, protectiveness, and disbelief – just to name a few. He stared at her, his face slack. She flashed him a quick smile. He didn’t know whether to hug her or throttle her so he settled on the former.

“I’m sorry I messed up your date,” she said in a small voice.

“Honey, you are far more important than any date I may have,” he murmured into her hair. As he said it he realized how true it was and how unfair it was to any girl he was dating. He didn’t have it in him to care about any other female at the moment. He didn’t want to care about anyone else.

“I’m still sorry. I seem to ruin every relationship you ever have,” she continued in the same small apologetic voice.

She had no idea how true that statement was, though not in the way she meant.

“You don’t ruin anything. You just make me realize how little I’m into them.” Well it was true.

“I do?”

“Yeah, you do. You’re the best friend I have.”

“I know,” she paused. “I love you Cowboy.”

Trace smiled at their long time inside joke.

“And I you Maggie Mae…” he sighed, “and I you.”

.-x-.

Trace’s phone rang. He stared at the caller ID and flipped it open with a sigh. Yet another girlfriend was breaking up with him because of Maggie. Not that he could blame them. The whole reason he hadn’t asked a girl out in three years was because he knew he couldn’t give them the attention they required. Yet they flocked to him.

“Hello?” he answered in a resigned voice.

“Trace. Hi. I’m sure you already know why I’m calling,” Hannah said, strangely calm sounding.

“Yeah, I’ve got an idea,” was the wry reply.

“We’re not going to work. In fact you’re not going to work in any relationship unless it’s with Maggie Brogan. Or until you come to terms with being in love with her,” she paused. “I hope the both of you wake up. Good luck and I’ll see ya around Trace.” With that said she hung up.

Trace stared at the phone. In love with Maggie? He wasn’t in love with Maggie. True, he loved her dearly, but she was his best friend. Nana’s voice echoed in his mind. God made us to be friends with our life long partners first and foremost. Though, his grandma was usually correct. He shook that thought out of his head with a scowl.

“She broke up with you.” It was a statement.

“Yeah.”

“Because of me.” She paused. “Trace, you can’t keep letting me get in the way of every relationship you ever have!”

He scowled then gathered her to his side and rested his cheek on top of her head.

“You don’t get in the way of anything. It’s not your fault they can’t handle my best friend being a girl. And in case you didn’t notice it’s them asking me out and not the other way around. You just don’t let me tell them no. And I can’t help being so good looking,” he said dramatically. Maggie giggled at his antics and felt immensely relieved. She still looked a little worse for the wear after last night’s happenings.

She tilted her head to the side and considered his looks. For some reason he was oddly pensive. He knew he was a good looking guy to most girls, but they weren’t Maggie, therefore their opinion didn’t hold much clout with him. A lot of women would skirt around such an issue, but Maggie was always truthful and blunt.

“I can’t say I blame them,” she told him with her special smile.

Trace was a good looking guy. He wasn’t exactly drop dead gorgeous; yet he was, because he sparkled. His blue eyes were almost colorless except for the dark blue ring around the outer edge and they always danced with an unspoken joke or encouraging word. Without the humor in his gaze Trace was rather formidable. His nose was masculine yet slender with a slight crook where Maggie had broken it when she was in second grade with a softball - that was how they met. She smiled faintly at the memory. His lips were quite a wonder; full and warm, slightly chapped and seemingly always on the edge of smiling. His cheekbones were high and defined, his jaw square and stubborn. All his features together were bold, startlingly rugged, and quite handsome.

Maggie stopped staring at him and blushed at the amused look he sent her way. She was female. Just because he was her best friend didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate him! In fact, that was all the more reason to appreciate him.

“What?”

“You make me smile,” he said with an irritating smirk. Maggie smacked his arm.

They shared a grin before a companionable silence fell over them. Maggie reclined against his chest comfortably. Trace was the only guy outside of her family that she had really ever been comfortable with. Even more so since the incident. She knew she could trust him with her life.

“I’m really sorry I messed things up for you. I shouldn’t have called. Danny or Daddy would have picked up sooner or later. I panicked. I haven’t panicked that bad in over a year. Can you forgive me?”

She looked up at him with tearful eyes. Trace raked a hand through his black hair.

“There’s nothing to forgive. You have significant reason to panic. And yes you should have called. That could have been a murderer or worse, not just Tim Davis playing a prank.”

No matter how many times Trace assured her Maggie always regretted calling him once she was calmed down enough to think clearly. Yet her panicked mind always called him first. He couldn’t get it through her thick skull that he wanted her to call him when she was scared. He had a protective streak for her a mile wide.

“You’re a gem. You know that right? I don’t deserve a friend like you. When Max attacked me I tried to think of what you would do and that’s how I got away.”

Trace stilled. It was the first time she had talked about her attack since the night it happened. Her voice was quite and pained.

“You did a hell of a better job than I would have,” Trace murmured into her blonde hair.

“No I didn’t. If you’d gotten hold of him he would have been dead,” she said matter-of-factly. He didn’t contest that statement.

“I’m also six foot four and weigh two hundred and fifty pounds. You’re five foot nine and weigh a hundred and sixty pounds. There’s a difference there. Max was a big man,” he reminded gently.

“I know. Anyway. He kept telling me exactly what he was going to do to me. My mind started to shut down. The only things important to me were making sure I remembered his face and getting away,” she stopped, staring out the window with a far away expression.

“Maggie, whatever you did, you did it well. He had three smashed fingers, a sprained wrist, a broken rib, a dislocated shoulder, a broken nose, and multiple bruises and contusions. Not to mention a couple nasty bite marks,” Trace all but whispered in her ear.

“I kicked, bit, hit, smashed rocks on whatever part of him I could reach. He tackled me and we wrestled around. I broke free and he tumbled over the edge of the ravine. I ran and I didn’t stop until I got to you,” she whispered in a choked voice. “I could have run to anyone but I was absolutely sure I wouldn’t be safe until I was with you.”

Trace was a big man. Maggie sensed a strength in him that she sensed in many dominant male animals but rarely in any humans. She had known he would keep her safe. She’d spent two months of her life clinging to him whenever she left her bedroom. It hadn’t been until he took her to the pound and they picked out a dog that she was able to relax. When Max McDermott had been sentenced her life had returned to normal somewhat.

Max was a hardened criminal that Ron Brogan put away on a ten year sentence. As soon as he escaped from the jail he had hunted Ron and his family down. When he couldn’t get to Ron or Danny he had gone after Maggie. She was held captive by him for two days in a cave north of town before she managed to get away.

“You’re the only one brave enough to do what you did.”

“I still ended up in the hospital for two weeks. But I lived. I lived and he’s on death row for his previous crimes. There’s nothing for me to fear. God kept me safe once. There’s no reason for me to panic at next to nothing,” she insisted in a voice that suggested she was trying to convince herself of that as well.

“In the dark recess of your mind you go into survival mode and you don’t know much else. Time has helped though,” Trace reminded her. “The man beat you, verbally abused you, and tried to rape you. He told you every sordid detail of what he was going to do to you for forty-eight hours. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t have some set backs.”

They fell into silence once again. Maggie contemplated Trace’s words. Trace contemplated Hannah’s words. Maggie stared off over the pond. Trace stared at the blonde leaning against him.

Maggie was a tomboy. There was no question about that. She could do pretty much anything a man could do and she was proud of it. It was too bad she also thought she couldn’t possibly seem feminine to anyone as well, because she was. There was no mistaking her alluring gold flecked green eyes and delicately arched eyebrows. Or her button nose and full firm cupid’s bow lips. The gentle yet strong planes of her face gave her a confident air. She was beautiful in an unconventional, fierce, untamed way. She was quite feminine. To tell the truth Trace and Donny were most of the reason she didn’t have many dates, not because she was so strong willed.

“Let’s go see a movie or something,” he suggest suddenly.

Maggie shook herself out of her daze.

“Or we can go to Bennie’s. I’m hungry.”

He gave her a strange look. She had avoided crowded places for a long time.

“You sure about that?”

“Very sure. Listen to my stomach!” She took his hand and put his palm over her belly button. He quirked an eyebrow at her oddness.

“I can’t hear through my hand,” he said.

“But you can feel.”

Her stomach rumbled seemingly on cue. They both cracked up. Trace stood up, taking Maggie with him. She took the opportunity to jump on his back and demand a piggyback ride. He obliged with a loud sigh. Maggie poked his side.

“You smell good.”

Trace rolled his eyes.

“Why are you smelling me?” He was only mildly freaked out.

“I dunno. Your shampoo smells like pine.”

“Um, thanks?”

He could feel her lean down and bury her nose against his neck. It gave him goose bumps.

“Welcome.”

She had to quit whatever it was she was doing. It was going to drive him nuts. He unceremoniously set her on her feet. She scowled and pinched his butt. He yelped and whirled around. Maggie was studying him with the most innocent look she could muster. He lunged at her playfully. She screeched and took off down the dirt path.

Trace laughed and chased her. She was fast. If she was two inches taller he wouldn’t have been able to catch her. Then again, he was the only one that could catch her. She kicked in the after burners and stared to pull away from him. He gave a mock evil laugh and swung her up into his arms. She squealed and attempted to break out of his grip. Her eyes shouted the laughter that she so diligently held in as he tickled her mercilessly.

“Can’t breathe!” she gasped finally.

Trace laughed with her for a few seconds before swinging her into his arms and trotting off down the path. It was her turn to roll her eyes and laugh. He finally set her on her feet at her insistence only a few yards from his truck. She raced off to the truck singing Trace Adkins’ Chrome.

“…Chrome, I said hey little girl you sure look nice \ Do you wanna ride, I won't bite, she climbs inside \ Says hell no, I wanna drive…” drifted back to Trace. He grinned and jogged to his truck. Maggie flew into his arms and let their momentum turn them in a circle. She deftly picked his pocket in the process. He just rolled his eyes and climbed in the passenger seat. Maggie let out a whoop of delight.

----

Maggie self consciously smoothed her camouflage shirt that said ‘Shh! I’m hunting cowboys...’ on the front as they walked into Bennie’s. The place was crowded with people. Music was coming from the partially partitioned dance floor and the tables in the restaurant part were nearly full. Trace moved through the throng of people and grabbed a booth. Maggie slipped into the padded seat across from him and stretched her long jean clad legs across the rest of the seat. Trace grinned and did the same.

A long legged waitress in a short black skirt flounced over to their table. Maggie eyed her attire with a raised eyebrow. Trace was immersed in his menu. She felt a certain sense of satisfaction that he didn’t even notice the skimpy skirt. The waitress apparently didn’t feel the same way. She took their orders and sashayed away from the table. Trace glanced at her then looked back at Maggie.

“Is there something wrong with her?” he asked with true confusion.

Maggie couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. Trace quirked an eyebrow but wrote it off to her just being Maggie. For as much as the guy understood her, sometimes he just didn’t.

Their food arrived. The waitress had the first three buttons of her top unbuttoned. Trace met her eyes and politely thanked her for the food then calmly laced his fingers through Maggie’s. To her credit she didn’t even look startled when he did so. She just smiled softly at him and ate a French fry. The brunette just rolled her eyes, popped her bubble gum in irritation, and stalked off.

They ate and talked a little. Trace was reluctant to give Maggie her hand back though. She didn’t seem to mind the contact.

“I kind of missed this place. I can’t believe how long I’ve been playing the part of a hermit,” Maggie told him ruefully.

“You needed the time to recover,” he said sensibly.

“It shouldn’t have taken two and a half years though. But oh well. What’s done is done.”

Trace grinned at her tone of voice. She was sounding more and more like the old Maggie. They continued to laugh and talk.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.”

Maggie nodded distractedly. Trace stood up from the booth and purposefully strode toward the dance floor. If she would have been paying attention she would have noticed the combative set to his shoulders and anger evident in his stride. She wasn’t paying attention though. Her attention was on their dark haired waitress and her reaction to the girl.

There was no way around admitting her reaction was jealousy. Not that it was a new reaction to the attention girls paid to her best friend, but the strength of it was new.

“Hi.”

Her thoughts were broken by the very object of her musings.

“Hi.”

There was an awkward silence.

“This is awkward,” the brunette muttered.

Maggie couldn’t help but smile at her.

“I’m Maggie.”

“Katie.”

They shared shy smiles.

“Yeah, this is awkward,” Maggie admitted.

There was a stretch of uneasy silence. It was clear Katie wanted to ask something but couldn’t really get up the courage to do so. Maggie fiddled with her straw wrapper.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Katie suddenly blurted.

Maggie raised her eyes from her now knotted wrapper and stared at Katie. The smaller girl looked extremely uncomfortable and refused to meet Maggie’s gaze. Maggie studied her carefully. Trace had made it perfectly clear he didn’t like her messing with his dating life. Yet he would never agree to any dates unless she did step in. Though she didn’t relish the thought of letting anyone get their hands on him. If it wasn’t for his own good she would leave it all alone. But, on the other hand, if she didn’t meddle he would never realize there was such thing as other girls.

She finally came up with a justified answer.

“You could call him that. I suppose.”

Well, technically, he was a boy and a friend.

“Oh. Okay. I was just curious. I gotta get back to work,” Katie said with a disappointed look on her face. She stood and started to walk away.

A lanky teenage guy Maggie faintly remembered from school came barreling up to the table. He had a wild, excited look on his face.

“Maggie! You have to go get Trace! He’s gonna kill Tim!”

Maggie stared at the kid with a dumbfounded expression.

“What?”

“Trace! He’s beating the shit outta Tim Davis!”

The names clicked into place in her brain and realization wasn’t far behind. She stood up and scrambled toward the cheering crowd on the other side of the dance floor. Katie stood beside the abandoned booth with a shocked look on her face.

Maggie shoved through the crowd. She stopped and stared at the sight that greeted her. There was no doubt in her mind that Trace meant to do permanent damage to the slightly larger kid he had pinned to the wall. She just stared at them with her mouth open for a few seconds. It wasn’t all that hard to imagine him as a black panther at the moment.

“Trace!” He ignored her. “Trace Spencer!” She put a hand on the forearm that was pinning Tim but he still ignored her. “Trace, get a hold on yourself this instant or - I swear to God above - I will tie you up and let my cousins loose on you! Do you hear me!”

That got his attention. The metaphorical red slowly left his gaze and a more docile look came into his eyes. He wiped blood off his lip and spit the rest at Tim’s feet. Maggie tightened her grip on his arm. She could already see the beginnings of a black eye. Tim looked worse.

“I think we need to go sit down and let you cool off a little,” she said quietly.

He didn’t protest when she took his hand and led him back to the booth. He silently slid into the corner. Maggie sat herself on the same side of the table. She scooted close to him and brushed a shock of soot black hair off his forehead. He sighed and some of the tension seemed to leave his body. Maggie took that as her cue to break the heavy silence.

“You alright?” She took a paper napkin and dipped in some water and began wiping blood residue from his busted lip. He winced.

“I’m fine.”

“You need some ice,” she continued as though she hadn’t even heard him.

“Maggie.”

“That eye is gonna be a real pretty shiner.”

Katie, the waitress, silently dropped a bag of ice in front of him. He nodded his thanks but never took his attention off a slightly frantic Maggie.

“Maggie.”

“Maybe it’ll swell shut. Oh. I hope not!”

“Maggie Mae.”

He gently took the hand wielding the dissolving napkin in his to get her attention. She looked up at him. He ducked slightly to make eye contact. She seemed to focus after that.

“Huh?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a bruise. Promise.”

She stared mutely at him. He attempted a smile. It turned out as more of a grimace when he felt his split lip stretch. Maggie finally seemed to register that he was okay and she felt her ire rise.

“Then what in the world made you decide to go all bezerk? You’re lucky they didn’t call the cops!” She emphasized with sharp pokes to his chest.

Trace mumbled an answer.

“What was that?”

“He was telling me just exactly what he was planning for you last night!” he growled.

“Oh.” She looked a little shocked.

Trace looked down at the rather fragile girl next to him. She looked like she had had about as much as she could take at the moment and he hadn’t made it any better by getting in a fist fight, no matter how much better it made him feel.

“I’m really sorry Maggie. Can you forgive me?”

She jerked out of the short contemplative silence and let her eyes be captured by her best friend’s.

“Of course I can,” she reply, utterly surprised.

“Good.” He put an arm around her in a hug. She returned the gesture. “What do you say we go home?”

“I say you’re a smart man.”

----

They goofed off the entire drive back to Maggie’s house. She couldn’t stop laughing at Trace’s typical dry humored account of a recent rodeo they had been to. The more she laughed the more outrageous he made the different voices and events seem. Both of them had made an unspoken pact to forget the fight.

Trace parked his truck in her driveway and walked her up to the house. None of the lights were on and neither of the sheriff’s cars were home. Ringer was making his presence known via booming barks. Maggie opened the door and the huge mutt barreled straight down the walk way to pee on Trace’s tire.

Maggie let the door shut and leaned against it. Trace felt a smile tug at his lips at the sight she made. Her blonde hair was struggling to get out of the half up pony tail it was in and her eyes were dancing with mirth. He was beginning to think maybe there was some truth in Hannah’s statement.

“Thanks for tonight Trace. Go home and get some ice on your eye. It’s gonna be real colorful come morning.” She brushed her fingertips under his already sore eye.

“G’night Maggie Mae.”

“G’night Cowboy.”

He jogged down the steps and climbed into his truck. Ringer joined his mistress on the front porch. Trace started the engine and waited until Maggie had gone inside before pulling out of the long driveway. His mind was racing.

Was he in love with Maggie? He knew they were thought of as a one person unit. Where Maggie was you could find Trace and where Trace was you could find Maggie. But did that mean he had to have any other feelings for her then friendship? True, he did warn other guys away from her, but only because they weren’t good enough for her or wouldn’t be able to handle her. She was more mature then the guys her age. No eighteen year old was going to be able to handle her. Or was it because they weren’t him?

Trace didn’t get much sleep that night.

.-x-.

“Maggie!” Trace whined.

She grinned at his mother who was watching from the doorway. Mrs. Spencer just shook her head and silently excused herself.

“Come on sleepyhead! It was your idea to go trail riding! I’m not going alone!” she announced as she bounced on the edge of his bed excitedly.

He groaned and rolled onto his back. She was making his head hurt with that infernal bouncing. He snagged her around her waist and pulled her down beside him. A smile tugged at his lips. Her body was almost vibrating with energy. This was the Maggie he had known before her abduction. She wouldn’t be able to sit still for very long.

Sure enough she bounced to her knees and tugged at his arm. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. She wrinkled her nose at him. It was his custom to sleep in his boxers. Maggie wasn’t complaining. He was extremely well built, but at the moment she wanted to get moving.

“Give me five minutes. Go downstairs. I’m sure mom will feed you,” he grumbled.

Maggie nodded and bounded down the stairs. She knew full well he would take five minutes to the second and no more. In that time he would take a shower and get dressed and be downstairs. That was just Trace. He was an interesting character. If she was honest with herself she knew she was in love with him. She just couldn’t admit it without misgivings.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Trace said.

He still looked a little sleepy, but he was freshly showered and dressed and wasn’t grumpy anymore. Surprisingly his shiner really wasn’t all that bad. He looked over at her and caught her staring. Maggie found herself blushing brightly and staring at her hands intently. Trace ignored the odd behavior and headed for the barn. Maggie followed close behind. She paused to hug Mrs. Spencer first.

Maggie went straight to her lanky gelding’s stall and led him into the isle to groom. Trace did the same with his gelding. They worked in a companionable silence. It didn’t take long for them to saddle up and head out on the trails. Maggie loved trail riding and couldn’t believe she’d given it up for so long. They rode toward an old cleared field about half a mile from Trace’s house. Growing up they had spent a lot of time there, playing as young children will.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” she commented as they came out of the trees and into the open sunlight.

“No it hasn’t. We have though,” Trace agreed.

Maggie smiled at him.

“That we have. But, yet, not so much.”

They laughed quietly.

“I need to talk to you about something Heather pointed out,” he said out of the blue.

“What did she say?”

Trace blew a breath through his lips and rested his chin in his hand, his elbow propped on the saddle horn.

“Do you know why she broke up with me?” he asked.

“Because of me,” she said matter-of-factly.

“In general, yes. She named a specific reason though, and I can’t believe I didn’t know it before.”

She raised an eye brow and waited for him to explain. He sent her a reassuring grin and seemed to wait for her to push him.

“And…”

“Well, she said she couldn’t hold on to someone that was in love with someone else. And she couldn’t change their mind about it when they didn’t even know their mind was made up,” he said slowly. Maggie looked like a deer caught in headlights. “I did a lot of thinking about what she said. She’s right you know. I’ve been in love with you since second grade if I’m honest with myself.”

She stared at him mutely for a few seconds. A smile quirked her lips.

“You put a frog down my shirt and stole my swing. That was some strange love,” she said wryly.

“I was in second grade,” he reminded.

“Good point.”

They sat on their horses in silence for a few minutes.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

Maggie looked at him with a wide grin.

“I think we’ve both been in a bit of denial for a long time, Cowboy.”

They laughed and headed for home.

a/n

I feel like there should be more to this one. I’m going to go ahead and post it, but don’t be surprised if I update it sometime in the future!

Western Princess