by R. C. Ryan
Her head came up. “What did he tell you?”
“Nothing. He doesn’t talk. But he works until he can’t work anymore. And then he falls into bed and hours later he’s up again, pushing himself to the limit.” He nodded toward the door. “He’s out in the barn right now. Been out there for an hour or more. He can’t keep this up, lass. Maybe you could talk to him.”
Willow sighed. “I can try.”
She topped off her coffee and filled a second mug before heading to the mudroom for a pair of sturdy boots and a frayed denim jacket.
Outside, a soft, misty rain was falling. She lifted her face, enjoying the feel of it on her skin.
Inside the barn, she breathed in the familiar scents of dung and earth and leather.
“Good morning.” She paused outside one of the stalls.
“Morning.” Whit didn’t stop working.
Willow watched as her youngest son spread fresh straw before filling the trough with water. Though she saw the ripple of muscle and the scraggly growth of beard, indicating that he was now a man, she could still see, in her mind’s eye, the chubby baby he’d once been, the gangly youth, the pride and joy of his father. The delight of his mother.
“You’re up early.”
He glanced away, trying not to make eye contact.
“Have you heard from Cara?”
At the mention of that name, she saw him flinch before he moved on to the next stall.
She trailed behind him. “Got time for some coffee?”
He turned. Seeing the mug, he set aside his pitchfork and led the way toward a long bench.
The two of them sat and Willow handed him a steaming mug.
“Thanks.” He sipped his coffee.
She laid a hand on his arm. “I know how you feel, Whit.”
He looked over. “Yeah. I guess you do. In a way, it’s like a death.”
“But not as permanent. She could decide to come back.”
“Would you? Would you give up a dream to live like this?”
She smiled at the irony of his words. “I did.”
That had his attention. “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I forgot about that fancy life as a model. But that was a lifetime ago. And it was different. You and Pop were already engaged. At least you knew how he felt. I…never got the chance to tell Cara.”
“She’ll figure it out.”
He shook his head. “She’s been chasing this dream since she was a scared, lonely little kid.” He drained his coffee and handed her the empty mug. “I had my chance with her and I blew it. Now I just have to figure out how to live without her.”
He picked up the pitchfork. “When I finish here, I think I’ll head up to the highlands. Along the way, I want to stop at Copper Creek.”
She took in a breath. “Your dad will enjoy a visit.”
“Yeah.” He turned away.
Willow stood for long moments, watching him. He was solid like his father. And he felt things deeply. Like his father. And like his father, he was a one-woman man. After Cara Walton, no other woman would ever be good enough. He would wait, and suffer, and endure. Like his father.
The misty rain had blown away, leaving the land fresh and lush and green. Sunlight sparkled on the waters of Copper Creek. High in the branches of a dead pine a mother eagle returned to the nest to feed her pair of hungry fledglings.
Whit tethered his gelding and walked to the banks of the creek to study the faded wooden cross he and his brothers had fashioned shortly after their father had been killed. Maybe it was time for a more permanent marker. Something that would explain, to anyone who stopped here, the terrible, heart-wrenching loss of the man who had died here.
He knelt in the grass, feeling again the pain of that loss.
And then he was thrust back to the time he’d brought Cara here. Seeing his grief, that tenderhearted female, who had fought so hard to remain aloof, had done the only thing she could to ease his pain.
She’d been so loving. So generous. And in his misery he’d taken her like an animal.
He wanted her. Dear God, he wanted her with every fiber of his being. He didn’t think he could stand living this way for the rest of his life.
He lowered his head, trying to think of something else. Anything that would distract him from this never-ending pain.
He looked up at the sound of muted hoofbeats drumming against the soft earth.
Cara slid from the saddle and held the reins of a pale gray mare. She was wearing some sort of floaty, pale yellow sundress with cap sleeves that fluttered at her shoulders and a long skirt that billowed around her ankles. Not at all what a woman would wear to ride a horse.
The fact that he could conjure such a vision only reminded Whit how much of a fool he’d become. He blinked, thinking the vision would disappear. Instead, she tethered her horse next to his and walked closer.
His voice caught in his throat. “Are you real?”
She smiled shyly. “I am.”
He shook his head. “If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me.”
“You’re not dreaming, Whit.” She touched a hand to his scratchy cheek. “You forgot to shave.”
“No reason to.” He waited a beat before asking, “Why? How? I thought you were in the big city, chasing your dream.”
“I was.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “When I signed the contracts, I waited.”
“Waited? For what?”
“For the magic to happen. Aren’t we supposed to feel the magic when we finally hold our dream in our hands?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“There was no magic, Whit. Those people were offering me fame and fortune, and all I felt was…empty.”
“You didn’t take the deal?”
She laughed, a clear, lilting sound that drifted on the slight breeze. “Oh, I took the deal. I guess I’m rich now. And maybe one day I’ll be famous. But I realized it wasn’t enough.”
“What’ll it take? More books? More money?”
She shook her head, sending pale hair dancing at her shoulders. “I realized my dream was here.” She clasped her hands behind her back and looked down at her toes, peeking from bright yellow sandals.
Whit placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “That’s a bad habit of yours. Don’t look away. You’ve come all this way to tell me something. Whatever it is, however painful, look me in the eye and say it.”
She took in a deep breath. “You’re my dream, Whit. You. Your family. This life. And I was so blinded by my insecurities, I turned my back on the best thing I ever had. I thought if I was only rich enough, and successful enough, I could forget my childhood and feel a sense of accomplishment.”
“What’s different now?”
“I kept hearing your words. That I was brave when it counted. And Myrna’s words. That I should always follow my heart. And that’s when I realized that I didn’t need money or the respect of strangers to be a success. All I need is to live the life I want, with the man who owns my heart.”
“I love you, Whit MacKenzie. I didn’t think I was worthy of you, and maybe all of this is too late, but I need you to know that I love—”
He cut off her words, dragging her into his arms and kissing her, pouring everything into it. All his needs, his desires, his heartbreak. His joy and relief that she’d come back to him.
His feelings, so long contained, just spilled over and drenched them both with an all-consuming passion.
He lifted his head, taking in a deep breath of air and feeling his heart begin to beat once more. “And I love you, Goldilocks.”
Her smile bloomed. “You haven’t called me that in such a long time.”
“Haven’t I?” He dragged her close and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. “Remind me to call you that at least once a day.”
“Sounds as though you intend to keep me around.”
“Only for a lifetime, Goldilocks.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew the small gold box. “I happen to have some
thing that belongs to you, if you’ll accept it.”
She opened the box and stared in surprise at the glittering diamond ring. “What are you doing with this?”
“I was planning on tossing it into the creek, along with all my dreams. But now I’ll do what I was planning on doing when I bought it.” He slipped it onto her finger. “Cara Walton, will you marry me and spend the rest of your life loving a man who smells like a barnyard?”
“I can’t think of a better way to spend the rest of my life.” She stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth over his. “Oh, Whit. I was so afraid to come to you. Afraid it was all too little, too late and that you’d hate me and send me away forever. But now…” She kissed him again. “My heart is so full. Will we go and tell your family?”
As she started to turn away, he caught her by the shoulders and dragged her into his arms, kissing her with a thoroughness that had them both gasping for breath.
“We’ll tell them. Eventually. First, I want to love you here, where you so generously loved me that first time. And this time I promise to go slow and easy.”
Her eyes danced with laughter. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Whit MacKenzie.”
And then, without a word, she leapt into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him to forget every word he’d just spoken. As they fell into the grass in a tangle of arms and legs, they showed each other just a hint of how delicious their future together would be.
Epilogue
The fields around the MacKenzie ranch had been washed clean by a week of early summer rains. But this day dawned clear and sunny, as though even Mother Nature was aware of the magnitude of this special occasion.
The MacKenzies were the closest thing to royalty to the folks in Copper Creek, and the wedding of Whit, the youngest grandson of Mad MacKenzie, was special indeed.
Talk around town was that Whit’s bride-to-be was a shy little thing. That made the fact that she had generously agreed to invite everyone for miles around all the more appreciated.
There were none who refused the invitation.
As folks arrived, a wrangler directed them to the big flatbed wagons adorned with white bows and streamers and pulled by a team of horses to the spot where the vows would be spoken. The exact location hadn’t been revealed, but the townies were enjoying the intrigue after being told that refreshments would be served while they awaited the arrival of the wedding party.
Brenna and Ash arrived just as Griff and Juliet and their boys were stepping from their plane. They glanced around at the beehive of activity in the yard, where wranglers were putting the finishing touches on rows of wooden picnic tables. Each was covered in a white cloth, with folding chairs decorated with matching white bows set in perfect symmetry.
Cara was in the kitchen, looking perfectly serene as she set a steaming tray on the countertop and placed another tray in the oven.
She turned to greet Griff and Juliet before hugging Casey and Ethan.
“Efan and me got new shirts. See?” Casey was happy to model, while his older brother merely smiled, showing a gap where a tooth had been.
“You look perfect,” Cara said. “Ethan, you lost a tooth?”
“Uh-huh.” He smiled wider.
“I hope the Tooth Fairy found it.”
“She did. Mama said I had to leave it under my pillow, and this morning it was gone and there was a whole dollar in its place.”
Casey’s eyes were shining. “I can’t wait to lose a toof so the Toof Fairy can visit me, too.”
Juliet looked around at the array of hot and cold foods covering every inch of space. “You’re not supposed to be working this hard on your wedding day.”
“She’s done,” Myrna declared as she hustled into the room. “Cara, honey, you have to go upstairs now and dress. Most of your guests are already gone in the wagons.” When it looked as though Cara might object, Myrna gave her a gentle shove. “Out with you. Mad and I want to decorate your cake now, and you can’t peek.”
Reluctantly Cara turned away. “Brenna and Juliet, will you give me a hand upstairs?”
The two young women trailed behind, while Ash and Griff took the two little boys in hand and led them away from all the tempting desserts.
Upstairs, Cara made a dash to the shower, then, clad in only a towel, allowed her new sisters-in-law to fuss over her hair and makeup.
At a knock on the door, Willow entered carrying a long white zippered bag on a hanger. “I know you wanted to keep things simple, Cara. Whit told me the two of you intended to wear denim, but I had this in my closet and wondered if you’d like to try it on.”
She unzipped the bag and held up a shimmering white sundress with a round, scalloped neckline and a rope of pearls at the tiny nipped-in waist, which then flowed to a swirling, ankle-length skirt.
Cara’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh, Willow. It’s so beautiful. I think it’s far too exotic for me. I don’t deserve…”
Seeing the looks exchanged between the others, she laughed. “There I go again. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now.” She took the dress from her soon-to-be mother-in-law’s hands and slipped it over her head. When she turned toward the three women, there was a collective sigh of appreciation.
Willow directed her to the oval looking glass.
Seeing her reflection, Cara was amazed at the transformation. “I feel like a princess.”
“You look like one, too.” Brenna smoothed the skirt before stepping back. “It’s perfect, Cara.”
The bride-to-be nodded before turning to Willow. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“The smile on your lips is all the thanks I ever need.” Willow drew her close. “You’ve made my son so happy, darling.”
“Not nearly as happy as he’s made me.”
The door opened and Myrna stepped inside, beaming her pleasure. “Oh, look at you. I told Willow it would fit you perfectly.”
She handed Willow a pair of white strappy sandals. “You wanted these?”
Willow was laughing as she explained, “I wanted to be sure you liked the dress before I offered the rest. See if these fit, Cara.”
Cara slipped her feet into the sandals and danced around the room.
“And there’s this.” Myrna reached into her pocket. “Since Willow gave you the ‘something new,’ I wanted to give you ‘something old.’ They belonged to my mother, and I wore them when I married my Harold.”
She fastened a single strand of pearls around Cara’s throat and added tiny pearl earrings before stepping back to admire.
“This is all so perfect. Thank you.” Cara reached into a handled bag. “Since you’re all here together, I’d like to return the favor.” She handed each of them a tissue-wrapped parcel. “My publisher sent these mock-ups of the first book’s cover and dedication page.”
Brenna was the first to read hers aloud. “To Brenna and Ash…” She glanced at Juliet, who took up the narrative.
“And Juliet and Griff and their sons, Casey and Ethan. You are the brothers and sisters I always wanted.”
Myrna’s lips quivered as she read aloud, “And to Mad and Myrna, my newly acquired grandparents, whose words of wisdom are engraved on my heart.”
Willow’s eyes were shining as she finished the dedication. “And to Willow MacKenzie, who has taught me courage and trust and love of family. Lucky me. I get something not many get in this world—the chance to choose, not only my one true love, but my forever family as well.”
The women circled around her, openly weeping as they embraced her.
In the kitchen, Casey and Ethan were seated at the table, enjoying frosty glasses of lemonade, while Ash, Griff, and Brady stood nearby, tipping up ice-cold longnecks.
When Whit strolled in wearing his best Western jacket and string tie over a starched white shirt and crisp denims, the teasing began.
“How long were you standing under that shower, bro?” Ash winked at Griff. “You smell like you used a whole bottle of
some fancy shampoo.”
Whit merely grinned. “Maybe I did.”
“Just so you didn’t pour on a whole bottle of Mad’s favorite Old Spice before you got dressed.”
“I’m saving that for tonight.”
Casey looked over. “Will you and Aunt Cara read her new book to me until I fall asleep tonight, Uncle Whit?”
Whit ruffled his hair. “Not tonight, Casey. Your aunt Cara and I have plans.”
“I know. You’re getting married. But that’s for today. I’m talking about tonight. I’m really looking forward to it.”
Whit winked. “So am I, Casey.”
Mad filled five tumblers with fine, aged scotch whiskey and passed them around. “I propose a toast to the lass who won the heart of my youngest grandson.”
The five men solemnly touched glasses and drank.
“And here’s to Bear,” Brady said. “You know he’s smiling on his sons today.”
Again they touched glasses and drank.
Whit lifted his tumbler and grinned at his brothers. “Here’s to family.”
“To family.” They drank again, and even the two little boys hurried over to touch their lemonade glasses to the others.
“And here’s to the man who started it all.” Ash nodded toward his grandfather, and the others touched glasses to Mad’s.
The old man shook his head. “To tell the truth, I never dreamed I’d live long enough to see all my grandsons happily wed. It’s a blessing, and one I’ll never forget.”
They looked up at the parade of women coming down the stairs, their eyes misty, noses red.
Whit shot a surprised glance at Mad, who gave a quick shake of his head. “Nothing to worry about, lad. There’s nothing a woman likes better than a good cry on a friend’s wedding day. The closer they are to the bride, the more tears shed.”
Whit let out a long breath. “That’s a relief. I was afraid for a minute there they were coming with bad news.”
Willow paused and looked around at the men. “The bride is ready. Let’s get to the wagon.”
Ash grumbled, “I still don’t know where we’re going. Does anybody around here know what’s going on?”