Heartbreak, Tennessee

by Ruby Laska

  Amber took a deep breath and paused, slowly closing the door to the Mercedes with a soft, well-oiled click. She held her sheaf of papers uncertainly in front of her as she hesitated, as though they could shield her from the misgivings that filled her.

  She hadn’t anticipated company.

  Slowly she made her way to the house, clutching the documents. They were her security blanket, providing a reason for her to show up at Mac’s door unannounced. After all, hadn’t Gray asked her to deliver them this evening?

  Sheryn’s pep talk had bolstered her, filled her with an urgency to see Mac again. It had seemed very simple when she slipped behind the wheel, briefcase open on the seat next to her, and charged out of the motel parking lot. Sheryn had a knack for making things seem easy, as if every real life drama could have a fairy-tale ending if only you wanted it badly enough.

  The miles in between, however, had eroded the high she’d been riding. Doubts clouded her thoughts. She was a grown woman, not a princess waiting to be swept off her feet. The unvarnished truth was that Amber had a good life, a good job, good friends, all of them several hundred miles away from here. The place she once called home so long ago was so unlike Nashville that she could never feel at home here again.

  Could she?

  As if she had a choice. Mac was entertaining, that much was clear. Glancing in the window of the yellow truck, Amber had spotted a woman’s purse on the seat. And felt a surge of jealousy, wholly inappropriate jealousy of a woman whose claim on Mac was no doubt far more substantial than her own.

  Amber had to get back home soon. Heartbreak was beginning to unsettle her, to shake the strong walls she’d built up around herself. Half-formed memories teased her consciousness, triggered by a once-familiar sight, a stranger’s greeting, the smell of fresh-cut clover. A strange longing for what once was mixed with a discomfort as palpable as a bee’s sting as she struggled to maintain her careful aloofness.

  That was then, she kept reminding herself. She had been a girl then, a naive child. In a way her life here seemed like a story she’d been told, a place she’d invented with her imagination.

  Except for Mac. It had not been a girl who had loved him under the summer stars, who had promised to share his love for eternity. At eighteen she had felt a woman’s passion, and it had never been extinguished, only buried.

  Now it struggled to voice its claim.

  She had allowed herself to wonder if there could be something permanent for them. Dared to imagine promises in the night they shared, dared to wonder what it would be like to wake by his side every morning.

  And yet she had not even been strong enough to stay for a single dawn.

  Because deep down she knew that she could no more come back to Heartbreak than Mac could pack up his life and move it to the city. He was a part of Heartbreak, and it a part of him, in a way that Amber recognized would never allow him to leave. His love of the clear still lakes and the Appalachian mountains in the distance, the moon hanging heavy in a sky lit by a brilliant sprinkling of stars - these were things he could never forsake for any other place.

  And Amber, though at times it seemed as though Heartbreak thrummed with a gentle song of welcome for her, could not bear to return to a place that had wounded her so. It had taken her mother and her one love, leaving her with nothing.

  And yet, as Sheryn said, true love alone could make the most barren place bloom with life. Maybe this could once again be her home.

  Amber realized she was clutching the slim circle of gold she wore beneath her shirt. She took a deep breath and slowly relaxed her grip. She could turn, get back into the car, go back to the hotel. A few more days, and Gray should have the answers they needed, and everyone could get back to Nashville.

  But...a few yards away was Mac. Amber had not spent years regretting and a single night burning down their shared history only to leave now. Loving him once had not quenched the fire that raged in her.

  At least she would carry out the task she’d promised Gray she’d do. Delivering the papers in the morning would be no easier for her than doing it tonight—especially if the dawn found that yellow pickup still parked in front of his house.

  Amber took a deep breath and strode purposefully past the battered yellow pickup, climbed the porch stairs and pausing with her hand poised to rap on the frame of the screen door.

  Inside she could hear Mac’s voice, low and smooth, and then answering laughter.

  Female laughter.

  Amber hesitated for a moment. Again, the jealousy. Mac had said there wasn’t anyone in his life. But maybe he simply meant nobody special. Maybe there was someone who shared his company, his free time...his bed.

  Still, how could he have spent the night with her, loved her the way he did, if he was even casually seeing someone else?

  As she stood deliberating, Amber heard chairs being pushed back on the oak floors and another exchange of words, then footsteps crossing the floor. She knocked then, not wanting to be caught listening at the door. Holding her breath, she stepped back as the door was opened, Mac’s face when he spotted her revealing a second of anxiety before he rearranged his features into an impenetrable mask.

  Then she stepped into view. His companion, smiling broadly, was not anything Amber was prepared for. Petite, with pale straight blonde hair falling to her waist, she wore a simple embroidered tank top and cutoff jeans, leaving long, slender arms and tanned legs exposed. Blue eyes rimmed in kohl danced in the soft lamplights as she stepped forward to extend a hand to Amber, who took it automatically.

  “You must be Amber,” she said, pressing Amber’s hand with strong callused fingers. “Getting details from Mac’s like pulling teeth, but he sure does have it bad for you.”

  “Charlene—” Mac cut in sharply.

  “Aw, hush,” the woman said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “You never have had a clue what’s good for you. If it hadn’t been for me and Ed taking care of you all these years, I just don’t know what you would have done. Charlene Brady,” she added, giving Amber a final squeeze before releasing her hand.

  “Charlene’s my office manager,” Mac muttered. “Other than not knowing when to keep her mouth shut, she’s a good friend of mine. She was nice enough to come out and keep me company for dinner.

  “My husband Ed had to work late, and the kids are at my Mom’s, and this boy finally learned to cook,” Charlene added.

  “Oh,” Amber said. Charlene had a husband. Kids. She liked the sound of that. “I mean, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Mac, I just brought by some documents that Gray wanted you to have an opportunity to look over before tomorrow’s meeting.”

  Charlene raised an eyebrow and looked hard at Amber, then at Mac.

  “Business stuff? You drove all the way over here to do business?” Then a light dawned in her eyes and she gave Amber a broad wink. “Or y’all just making excuses ‘cause I’m here? Honest, there’s no need for that. I mean, I’m sorry to be a third wheel and all, but Ed’ll be along soon enough to fix that damn clunker out there and we’ll be on our way. And that pretty moon looks like it’ll last all night long.”

  Another wink.

  Amber flushed deeply and held up the stack of papers to show Mac. He stared at them as though they were about to go up in flames, not reaching for them. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “I’ll read them over before we convene.”

  What had she expected? That when she and Mac saw each other again, he’d flash her an easy grin and invite her to move in?

  Well, yes. As she’d struggled to stir up the courage to commit herself to trying to build something with Mac, she’d made one assumption.

  One dangerous presumption.

  That he’d want her to. That he’d welcome her into his home, his life, his town. That a life with her was at the top of his wish list.

  But the man in front of her, shifting from one foot to another and searching the room for somewhere to fix his gaze, did not look as though he wanted to share the next ten minut
es, much less eternity.

  Amber had used just about every ounce of guts she possessed to make it this far. But there was nothing left to take her any further.

  “Is there something wrong with your truck?” Amber inquired. “I’ll be heading back in a moment and I’d be glad to give you a lift.”

  “Oh, now.” The look on Charlene’s face was that of a little girl whose ice cream cone had been snatched away. “I won’t hear of it. That fool battery’s acting up again. Dead. Mac’s already offered to take me home, but Ed’s getting off his shift over at the hospital any time now and he’s going to come on over here. He’s got set of jumper cables and he’ll have us out of here in no time.”

  “I have jumper cables,” Amber said. “If that would help.”

  “Well, sure! I’d appreciate it. Mac can’t remember who he loaned his to,” Charlene grinned, rolling her eyes in his direction. “I swear, he’d give the shirt off his back to anyone who asked. It’s a wonder anything’s left in this place of his.”

  “Oh, lay off,” Mac muttered. “I just keep forgetting to get them back from Pat since he totaled that Buick.”

  “Well, hey,” Charlene said, clapping her hands together and changing the subject. “I’ll call Ed and tell him not to bother. And I’ll fix us all one of my famous long island iced teas. Then Amber and I can have us some girl talk while you get busy on my truck, okay, Mac?”

  “Really, I can’t,” Amber said, as Charlene began rattling things in the kitchen. “I still have some work to do tonight.”

  Then, remembering she was still clutching the clipped papers, she thrust them out to Mac.

  And dropped them.

  They both bent at once. Two hands darted out. And collided.

  Crouched down, his face inches away from hers, Mac found himself staring into her eyes. She was close enough that if he leaned slightly, his lips could meet hers. He ached to taste her again, touch her delicate jaw and long sweep of lashes and the hollow, oh, that sensitive hollow tucked beneath her ears...

  “Sorry,” Amber said, pushing the papers at him and rising. ”Here you go.” Charlene’s voice, at his elbow. But he was just inches away from Amber, having trouble concentrating on anything but her.

  “Thank you,” Amber said faintly, and took a glass from the tray Charlene offered. “I think I will, after all.”

  Automatically Mac’s hand shot out for a tall glass, and he raised it to his lips and drank deeply, vaguely thinking that he might quench the fiery urgency in his body.

  “Careful, they’re...”

  Too late, Mac tasted the potent combination of high-proof ingredients. Two thirds of the liquid had already coursed down his throat, burning a fiery tunnel through his body.

  “...strong,” Charlene finished, her voice awestruck. “I’ve never seen anyone do that to one of these,” she added.

  What the hell. Mac stared at the remainder of the concoction, then tossed it down as well.

  Amber had taken just a few sips from her own glass, but she raised it to her lips and drank deeply.

  “Oh well,” Charlene shrugged. “Bottoms up!”

  Leaving the two women to their conversation, Mac slammed the door on the way out of the house and got busy. The cables were in the trunk of the little Mercedes, as Amber had promised, and Charlene had left her keys in the truck’s ignition. It didn’t take long to get the truck in position and attach the cables. Mac moved automatically, the task something he could do blindfolded, his mind elsewhere.

  Charlene had come down on him, hard. Maybe he’d been wrong to open up to her the way he had, but he just couldn’t keep everything bottled up any longer.

  Amber was driving him crazy. The night they’d spent together burned in his body, his senses, while he couldn’t keep his mind focused on anything at all. Images of her kept intruding, memories of what they’d shared, of the way he’d lost her.

  And, most aggravating of all, unbidden thoughts of what might be. He had dared to dream a future with her. A future that could never be, one on which he had no business gambling the few thin remaining shreds of his life.

  Besides, he reminded himself as he pressed the pedal of the truck to the floor, causing the engine to choke and then roar in a cloud of noxious exhaust, tomorrow would find them sitting on opposite sides of a bargaining table, fighting over everything that he held dear.

  Stepping down from the cab of the truck, Mac found Charlene waiting, hands on hips, glaring at him. He shrugged past her, and gestured to the open door.

  “Just let me get these cables put away,” he said. “Then she’s all yours. You need to get that muffler of yours looked at one of these days.”

  He could feel her watching him as he finished up. As he slammed the Mercedes’ trunk shut he turned to her and tried to fix his features in an easy smile.

  “Thanks for everything, Charlene,” he said. “I know you have my best interests at heart. You just don’t know the whole story.”

  “Yes I do,” Charlene replied, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and then climbing into the truck. “I know all I need to know.”

  And then she was gone, the rattle of her engine receding into the darkness, until all that was left was the faint buzz of the summer night.

  Turning, he saw that Amber had come out onto the porch.

  “So why did you really come here tonight?” he asked, climbing the stairs to lean against one of the porch’s support beams, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

  “She’s sweet,” Amber said softly, ignoring his question. “You’re lucky to have a friend like her.”

  “Yeah. Look, Amber, you dropped off the papers. Is there—do you have something more to say to me?”

  He watched her carefully, trying to gauge the emotions that coursed through her liquid green eyes. Saw her blink a few times. Saw them go a little misty.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have been so abrupt. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her further. But God knew, if this thing between them wasn’t going anywhere, if she was going to leave in a few days and return to her life, her lover far away in the city, then he wanted it over now.

  But her response was anything but what he’d expected.

  Amber bit her lip and shook her head. “I know that this afternoon I shouldn’t have run away. Things just got a little much for me and I had to leave. It wasn’t you, it—wasn’t fair to you, I know, and I’m sorry. So sorry.

  “And then tonight I was talking to Sheryn, about life and history and second chances and...oh, I guess you would have had to have been there, but I decided to come and see you, but I wasn’t thinking about what we’d talk about, what we’d say. I just knew I had to come here, be here with you.”

  “You didn’t seem to feel that way this afternoon, up on Bear Creek Trail,” Mac said, still wary.

  Amber covered her face with her hands for a moment, her pale slender fingers trembling.

  “I acted rashly,” she said again as she slowly lowered her hands. “I’m sorry. I know I was out of line.”

  Mac relented. He couldn’t bear to see her suffering. “You weren’t rash,” he said gruffly. “You just said what was on your mind, right?”

  “But about your father—”

  “Don’t.” Mac stopped her with a motion of his hand that spoke volumes. “Let’s not go down that road. It’s something it seems we’re not ready to handle right now.”

  “Agreed,” Amber said softly. “Mac, I don’t know what to say. I want to be with you. Now. Me coming here, to Heartbreak, it’s as if I was suddenly ready to return, even if I didn’t know it. I feel like I’ve been given this one chance, and if I don’t take it, I might not get another.”

  “You want to be with me now,” Mac repeated slowly. “How would your boyfriend feel about that?”

  “Boyfriend...” Mac saw genuine confusion on Amber’s face. “What are you talking about?” ”The one who called the motel the other day,” he said impatiently. “I was listening, remember?”


  Amber bent her head. “It’s...complicated. But he’s not my boyfriend, not any more.”

  Despite himself, Mac felt a rush of hope at her words. So she didn’t have another lover. She was unattached, free.

  And she said she wanted to be with him.

  He took a step forward, and before his mind caught up with his body, another, so he was standing inches from Amber.

  She looked up at him expectantly, her lips parted, her sweet breath on his chest. The tremor that had shaken her hands before now seemed to have traveled throughout her whole body, the faintest trembling.

  He reached out a hand to still it.

  Amber closed her eyes as Mac touched her cheek. She raised her lips to meet his, feeling her knees buckle just as Mac slid an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, hard, tenderness replaced by urgency as his own lips came down on hers and demanded release.

  Their kiss was fire, tongues twining in desperate hunger. Mac’s hands slid down her back, his strong fingers crushing the soft fabric of her dress, pulling her closer. She pressed herself into him, aching to feel his body against every inch of her own.

  A low moan escaped her lips as Mac wound a hand through her hair and pulled, tilting her chin up so he could cover her neck with kisses that weren’t gentle, no not quite gentle, but that caused the ache in her body to escalate into a roar.

  Mac lowered her to a wooden bench that was striped with glowing bars of moonlight coming in through the beams of the porch. Then he knelt down, slid a knee between her own, parted her to press his denim-clad groin against her. He bent and gently raked her breasts with his jaw and teeth, through her dress, though her body responded as if nothing separated them, nothing at all.

  Amber slid her fingers into his hair and struggled to keep from crying out. Mac was here, his body entwined with hers, loving her. Nothing had ever felt more right, nothing anyway since they’d shared love beneath another bright moon all those years ago.