Ridge (Texas Boudreau Brotherhood Book 4) Page 9

  “Michael put the knife to my throat when the police came through the door. I remember everything seemed to slow, like an old movie clip. Heard the officers telling him to drop the knife and let me go. Him holding the knife close to my throat. I can still remember the coldness of the blade against my skin. It’s funny how some things have faded with the passage of time, and yet others are crystal clear, as if it happened moments ago. Everyone was still, all these guns pointed toward me—well, they were pointed toward Michael, but he held me in front of him, the perfect human shield.”

  “Maggie—”

  “One of the officers tried to reason with him, promised nobody would get hurt if he released me. Michael refused, demanding they let him go, and hitching the knife higher against my throat. It was a standoff, one nobody could win. Someone needed to do something, and the police couldn’t take the shot. It wasn’t like you see in the movies, where the SWAT team has a sniper ready to take out the bad guy with the perfect kill shot. These were simply men and women trying to deal with a situation they don’t normally see and honestly weren’t ready to face. I’ll admit I was terrified, because Michael wasn’t right in the head. I think he wanted the cops to shoot him.”

  Ridge sighed. “Suicide by cop. He probably thought it would make him some kind of martyr.” His lips brushed against her cheek, so soft and gentle she thought she might have imagined it. “Did it work?”

  She drew in a shaky breath. “No. I did something foolish, although at the time I thought I was doing the exact right thing. I—went limp. Let everything go and forced Michael to struggle to hold me up. The knife…slipped…and went into the side of my neck.” Maggie ran her fingertips across the scar on her collarbone, recalling the jolting pain as the blade cut deep.

  Ridge let loose a string of curses, and the corners of Maggie’s lips lifted in a smile. The entire time she’d know him, she’d never heard him use any colorful language. Now, he was making up for lost time, coming up with some inventive ones she’d never heard before.

  “When I tumbled forward, the police rushed forward and subdued Michael, wrestling him to the floor and handcuffing him. They hauled him off to jail within minutes.”

  “Good. He’s in prison, right?”

  “I wish it was that simple. The police discovered his parents’ bodies later that same day. Turns out Michael had killed them both before coming after me. He never intended to let me live. He left a note at his parents’ home, admitting to killing them and to killing his brother years prior. Said he hadn’t drowned all those years ago, Michael had pushed him out of the boat. The letter stated he wouldn’t let me leave him, because I belonged to him. After he was arrested, he killed himself in his cell.”

  “Aw, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

  Ridge turned her gently in his arms, his hold loose, giving her the freedom to step away if she wanted. Instead, she did the opposite. She twined her arms around him and stepped closer, allowing herself to finally release the pent-up tension she’d been holding while she told Ridge her story. Her history. She’d laid herself bare, exposed like a nerve ending, raw and bleeding. What he did with the knowledge she shared was up to him, but in telling him about her past, unburdening herself, she felt lighter, freer.

  “You are an amazing woman, Mary Margaret White. I am so very proud of you.”

  Her eyes widened at his words, his praise a balm to her battered spirit. When his hand cupped her cheek, she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. The feel of his lips on hers sent a frisson of electricity spinning through her, and she responded, returning his kiss. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tilted her head, deepening their kiss. Something about the touch of his lips against hers, she wanted it to go on forever. Nothing else mattered except the feel of Ridge’s lips on hers, the bubbles of excitement swirling through her body at this simple yet explosive touch. There was a magic in this kiss, it was more than special—it was life-altering—and she wanted to be swept away on this swirling sea of emotion that was Ridge Boudreau.

  Reluctantly pulling back, she ran a fingertip against his parted lips, feeling the silky softness of his mouth beneath her touch. Every instinct inside her screamed to pull Ridge close, feel his intoxicating kiss again, be swept away beneath the whirlpool of emotions roiling inside her. She felt giddy, like a teenager with her first crush, instead of a woman who’d seen too much in her lifetime to trust the feelings aching for release.

  She pulled back and gave him an indulgent smile. Ridge’s eyes searched her face for a long while, before he finally took a step back, and grasped her hand, bringing it up and brushing a tender kiss across her knuckles.

  “Thank you for sharing with me, Miss Maggie.” He brushed his thumb across her lips, his dark eyes brimming with emotion, and she almost gave in to temptation and kissed him again. Instead, she took one step back and then another.

  “I’m not whole, Ridge. I may never be again. I’ve put the pieces back together as best I can, but some days I’m afraid the glue won’t hold, and I’ll be little more than a stack of jagged edges that I can’t reassemble into anything resembling normal.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart. You are one of the most grounded and stable people I’ve ever met. I know what a broken person looks like. Sounds like. I was in the Army. Trust me, there are broken people who find a way to keep going, and some who never make it all the way back. You made it back, and because you were broken, you mended all the pieces, and they are stronger than before. You will not break.”

  She felt the tears welling in her eyes, and barely kept them from overflowing. “Thank you.” She sniffed back the tears, and gave him a watery smile. “Want some breakfast?”

  “Only if I get to help.”

  “You’re on.”

  On the way to the kitchen, she stopped. “Ridge, about lunch—”

  “Nope, you’re not getting out of it that easy. Besides, Momma knows you’re coming, and trust me, you do not want to disappoint Patricia Boudreau.” His accompanying grin made her chuckle.

  “Got it. No disappointing your mother. Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  From the corner of his eye, Ridge watched as Maggie got her first good look at the Boudreau home or, as it was known throughout Shiloh Springs, the Big House. It had gotten the nickname from the foster boys, who’d grown up calling it that. In the beginning, they’d looked on it as a prison from which they couldn’t escape. The name stuck. But it was also a large-sized house with enough property to make it the biggest spread in the county. It had to be to hold all the rambunctiousness of a passel of adolescent males, intent on mischief. He wondered if she’d compare it with her home, and find it lacking. The structures were as different as night and day, each unique in its own way, but he admitted to being partial to the Big House—because it was home.

  “Oh, wow,” Maggie breathed out the words, “it’s beautiful.”

  The tension Ridge felt melted away at her simple compliment, and gave the aging beauty the once over, trying to see it from a dispassionate eye. Even having lived here for years, he still got a knot in his stomach on coming to the Big House, because it was home. Two stories high, it reminded him of an old antebellum plantation house, the ones he’d seen when he visited family in New Orleans. Painted white with dark green shutters on the windows, it gave the house its stately appearance. There were rounded columns on both the first and second floors, with porches wrapping around both levels. A brick pathway led to the front porch and the door had a rounded arch above.

  To the side, an addition had been built years ago, and blended seamlessly with the original structure. Not surprising, since his father owned a construction company. He remembered his momma mentioning she wanted to add on a master suite and within days, construction had commenced. Ridge smiled at the memory. That was all it took. If Momma wanted something, Dad moved heaven and earth to make it happen. The love his parents shared was priceless, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’
d ever find anything close to it for himself. Glancing at Maggie again, the thought sprang into his head maybe he already had.

  He pulled up in front of the house, parking with all the other cars. It looked like a good chunk of his family was already here. The more the merrier.

  “Welcome to my home, Maggie.”

  “Thanks. Are you sure I look okay?”

  “You look beautiful. Don’t worry, these things aren’t formal. It’s just lunch with the family.”

  She gave an inelegant snort. “For you, it’s lunch with the family. For me, I’m meeting your parents. Oh, wow. I’m meeting your parents!” Her voice rose with each syllable, and Ridge found himself chuckling.

  “Breathe, Maggie. I promise they don’t bite. They are going to love you. Especially my momma. I can’t promise she won’t ask you questions though.”

  “This still feels weird. I mean, you’re working for me. We hardly know each other.” Her fingers twined together in her lap, twisting over and over, until he finally laid his hand over them.

  “Everything is going to be fine. And you’re practically a neighbor, since half of your property is in Shiloh Springs.”

  “County. Shiloh Springs County. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually been in your town.”

  Leaning forward, he brushed a quick kiss against her cheek. “We’ll have to change that.”

  Climbing out of the car, he walked around and opened Maggie’s door. He’d borrowed her sedan since he wanted her to feel comfortable, and having something that belonged solely to her would give her an illusion of control.

  “Come on, Ridge. Hurry up or you’re gonna miss it.” Nica stood on the edge of the porch, a silly grin plastered on her lips. Her long blonde hair caught the sun haloed around her face, and he was struck again by how much she’d grown up. It felt like she went from a kid in pigtails to a young woman going to college in the blink of an eye.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s a surprise, but you better hurry.” Nica straightened when she caught sight of Maggie at his side, and if it was possible, her smile got even bigger. “Who’s your friend?”

  Finishing the walk up to the steps of the front porch, he lightly grasped Maggie’s elbow and escorted her the rest of the way. “Maggie, this is my baby sister, Veronica.”

  “Seriously? That’s how you’re going to introduce me?” Rolling her eyes, she pushed Ridge aside and held out her hand. “I’m Nica. Nobody calls me Veronica.” She jerked her thumb toward Ridge. “Except this dope when he’s trying to annoy me.”

  “Maggie White. I totally understand. I’m Mary Margaret, but I prefer Maggie.”

  “Cool.” Nica hip-checked Ridge aside and looped her elbow through Maggie’s and shot a triumphant glare toward Ridge. “Now, can we go inside?”

  “Lead the way, Sis.”

  He followed behind, watching Nica animatedly chatting with Maggie, and saw Maggie smile at something she said. The words weren’t important. He wasn’t paying attention to them anyway. He loved the open, giving welcome his baby sister gave Maggie, helping her to instantly feel a part of things. Chalk one up for Nica, who’d somehow figured out Maggie was nervous and immediately jumped into action. Actually, it was almost like seeing a miniature version of his momma, and he could understand anew why his dad fell in love with her.

  Nica led Maggie through the house and out to the patio, where Douglas stood manning the enormous barbecue grill. The scent of wood smoke and BBQ sauce wafted toward him, and Ridge felt his stomach rumble. He was ready for some of his daddy’s famous ribs, and maybe a burger or two. Nica had put on a full head of steam, practically dragging Maggie across the patio toward his momma, who sat on one of the padded chairs grouped around the side, along with a matching love seat and a few other chairs, already filled with the other women. He spotted Tessa and Beth, with Jamie sitting between her feet, a coloring book in her lap, furiously scribbling at the pages. Jill Monroe sat next to Tessa. He hadn’t seen her in a while, but the good news was, if she was here that meant she’d brought one of her cakes.

  He walked faster, but didn’t quite catch up before Nica hauled Maggie to stand in front of his mother. Turning her head, she gave him a wink over her shoulder.

  “Hey, Momma, look who I found. This is Mary Margaret, but she likes to be called Maggie.” She kept her arm looped through Maggie’s, as if afraid she’d bolt the second Nica turned her loose. When she whipped her head around looking for him, he almost laughed at her wild-eyed expression. Guess he’d better rescue her.

  “Afternoon, Momma.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss against his mother’s cheek before straightening and walking toward Maggie and his sister. Looping his arm around his sister’s neck, he pulled her close and tousled her hair as she struggled to get free. Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, “Thanks, Nica.”

  “You’re welcome.” When he let her go, she started around him and then jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, plastering herself against him. “By the way, I like her.” With that, she jumped off, backpedaling quickly, laughing.

  Facing his mother, he saw her indulgent smile. Nica was special, their miracle girl. Everybody loved her; all her foster brothers adored her. They might call her the pampered princess and claim she was spoiled, but nothing could be farther from the truth. She pitched in as much as any man on the ranch when she was home from school, and even before. Growing up with almost a dozen big brothers, she’d been a tomboy and daredevil most of her life. There was a zest for life inside Nica, and he prayed nobody and nothing quelled her spirit, or they’d answer to him and a whole bunch of pissed off big brothers.

  “Maggie, why don’t you come sit by me? Ridge, pull that chair over here, please.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Boudreau.”

  “Ms. Patti!” Multiple voices chimed in at the same time, followed by laughter.

  “That’s right, call me Ms. Patti.” His mother smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Son, why don’t you go help your daddy with the grill? I know he’s looking forward to talking with you.”

  Ridge knew a dismissal when he heard one, though he loathed leaving Maggie undefended. Not that he was afraid she couldn’t hold her own, but the odds were a little unbalanced. Four against one seemed a little one-sided. His gaze met Maggie’s and he searched for any sign of nervousness or anxiety, and was surprised when he saw her smile. It lit up her face, and the sight filled him with a surge of happiness.

  “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. Wave if you need me, I’ll be right over there.” He pointed toward his father, who raised his tongs and nodded.

  “Son, it’ll be fine. The ladies will have a chat, and then it’ll be time for lunch.”

  He turned and started toward the grill, but spun around. “When we got here, Nica was all excited about some surprise, and rushed us back here. What’s going on?”

  His momma’s enigmatic smile was all the answer he got. Guess he’d find out later.

  The rock in the pit of Maggie’s stomach let her know it was interrogation time. Oh, she was sure the women wouldn’t rake her over the coals. Didn’t seem to be their style. But they’d get answers to whatever questions they deemed important. Might as well get comfortable.

  “Here you go.” Nica’s hand came from behind, handing her a can of Dr Pepper. “I hope this is okay. If you want something else, I can grab it.”

  “This is perfect,” Maggie took the offered can and popped the tab. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Coming from behind her, Nica dropped to the ground at Maggie’s feet, and opened her own soda. “You ready for this? I’ve got the bright lights and rubber hoses ready, but something tells me we won’t need ’em, am I right?” Her grin was infectious and Maggie found herself smiling.

  “Keep them handy just in case, but I’ll try and answer your questions.”

  “Nica, I told you we aren’t going to give Maggie the third d
egree. This is a friendly lunch. I expect you to behave.”

  “Momma, Maggie’s a Southern girl. She knows what it means when you’re invited to a family dinner. Right?” Nica looked imploringly at Maggie, as if pleading with her to not get her in trouble.

  “It’s fine, Mrs. Boudreau…I mean, Ms. Patti. I don’t have any secrets.” The second the words left her lips, she wanted to yank them back, because she did have secrets. Secrets that could get these ladies in trouble if they discovered them. She’d have to watch every word from here on out, because there was something about Ms. Patti and Nica that made her feel relaxed and comfortable. Maybe a bit too comfortable because oddly, she found herself wanting—needing—their approval. Which was ridiculous. There wasn’t any reason their opinion about her mattered one way or another.

  “Maggie, let me at least introduce you to the others. This is Tessa Maxwell, she’s engaged to my son, Rafe. Then, next to her is her sister, Beth Stewart, who’s engaged to my son, Brody. The young lady sitting across from you is Jillian Monroe.”

  “Which son is she engaged to?” Maggie asked and watched a splash of color sweep across Jillian’s cheeks.

  “None of them,” Jillian responded.

  Maggie heard Ms. Patti’s murmured, “not yet”, followed by Nica’s snicker, and knew there was a story there.

  Ms. Patti pointed at Nica. “And you’ve met our youngest.”

  Nica raised her soda in salute before taking a drink.

  “We are waiting for a couple more arrivals before we eat. Antonio and Serena are driving in from Austin. They spent a couple of days there, but they’re coming home. Should be here soon. Liam’s at a job site, dealing with some issue that came up, but he’s going to try and make it.” She looked over her shoulder toward the grill. “The menfolk are with my husband, Douglas. There’s Rafe, Brody, Chance, and, of course, Ridge.

  “Where’s Heath?” Beth looked up from studying her daughter’s picture to ask Ms. Patti. “I thought he’d be here for sure.”