by Sawyer Belle
Brent was busy saddling Jake as Ty called out across the meadow.
“Come on, Red! Let’s get a move on!”
Kelly ran back to her cousin and Mackenna waited by Jake until Brent was through saddling him. She unrolled her leather duster from the back of her saddle and put it on, fastening it up to her collar. Now that she was away from the fire the brisk mountain air was chasing away all of Brent’s warmth. He kicked dirt on what remained of their fire and as the smoke curled up into the clear night sky, he returned to his horse. Mackenna picked up her reins.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but I’m going to run ahead. I don’t want to be out here for another two hours.”
Brent stretched his own coat over his arms as he spoke. “I had the same thought myself. You lead. I’ll follow.”
She nodded and set her spurs to Sass, who complied willingly. They sped passed the Thing easily and disappeared into the dark of the forest. Mackenna had no fear here, knowing that horses see better at night than they do in full daylight. So, she placed her full trust in her mount and leaned forward to avoid any wayward branches. Her cheek nearly rested on Sass’s neck as she fought the stinging pain in her leg.
An icy wind raced passed her bare face and ears and her fingers felt like stiff rods clasped around the leather reins. She scolded herself for not having the good sense to slip on her cowhide gloves before they left. The only sound was the echo of metal horseshoes pounding into the ground. It was a quick and quiet ride and they made it back to the ranch in half the time.
Bev and her husband, Grant, were sitting on a wooden porch swing, gilded in the golden light spilling out from the inside of their cabin home. They stood when the pair came riding in. Bev’s face sagged with relief to find them well. She descended the wooden steps to greet them.
“Thank God you’re both fine,” she said, but then her eyes latched onto Mackenna’s ashen face. “You are fine, aren’t you?”
Mackenna nodded groggily, not feeling at all fine. She was sure her pain was etched all across her face. Wearily, she dismounted. As soon as her foot hit the ground, she yelped and tumbled. Brent was beside her and caught her easily. Bev ran around to her side, pushing Sass away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked with worry.
“It’s my knee,” Mackenna strained, no longer feeling the need to lie. “Buddy slammed into it and it’s swollen pretty bad. I think this last bit of riding just pushed me over.”
“I thought you said you were okay,” Brent said, sounding irritated. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It wasn’t this bad when you asked, and by the time it was, there wasn’t anything to do but wait for Ty. I didn’t see the point in adding to our troubles.”
Brent opened his mouth to scold her, but instead just shook his head and huffed. You brave, little fool, he thought. When she asked for his and Bev’s shoulders to lean on, Brent scooped her up into his arms. She gasped in surprise and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck so that she wouldn’t fall.
“Where do you want her, Bev?” he asked.
“Put her inside on the couch. I want to see what we’re dealing with here.”
He did as instructed while Grant took care of the horses. Brent helped remove her duster. Next, he unbuckled the straps of her chaps while Bev went to get a pair of scissors. It was obvious in the full light of the cabin that they would have to cut Mackenna’s jeans. The swelling was nearly the size of a melon around her left knee. She thanked him for removing her chaps just before he was replaced by Bev.
She worked the scissors slowly up over Mackenna’s boots and calf. When she got to the beginning of the swelling, the jeans were stretched so tight over it that she could not insert the scissors. So, she grabbed either side of the cut jeans and ripped with one, strong pull. Mackenna flinched and winced before a gasp stole her breath. Her knee was barely recognizable, so great was its purpled swelling.
“Jesus, Mackenna,” Brent breathed.
“Brent,” Bev interrupted. “Go and get me a rag full of ice. Now that we’ve removed the only thing keeping that swelling down, we need to put ice on it.”
For the first time since the injury, Mackenna worried that it was worse than she’d thought. Following swiftly was the thought that her summer in Montana would be over. She fought the sadness overtaking her and summoned the optimism that normally characterized her.
“It’ll be fine,” she tried. “I just need to stay off it for a few days.”
“Mackenna,” Bev said with a shake of her head. “We need to take you into town tomorrow to see a doctor.”
Chapter 10
The knee-length dress skirt she packed was far looser on her now than it had been when she packed it. Mackenna smiled, knowing that finally her winter weight was leaving her. She looked at her reflection in the floor-length mirror of the loft. Her outfit was flawless except for the bulky black leg brace that stretched up from her ankle to disappear beneath the flowing, flower-patterned fabric. She’d been wearing Bev’s skirts since her jeans would not fit over the brace. It was good to be back in something that was hers.
Her top was a light blue simple material that stretched over her chest, looking fuller now that the belly beneath it was shrinking. A pair of crutches jammed up into her armpits and her hair had grown long enough to touch the tops of them. She left it down for the first time this summer and it gleamed in golden thickness around her made-up face.
Today, they would barbeque with just the family. Sundays were usually the only days that the ranch was emptied of guests, whose stays lasted from Monday to Saturday. The McCraes and their employees usually took the “day off” to clean up after the tourists by tidying up the guest cabins and washing linens and their own laundry, cleaning tack, checking emails or going into town for some errand or another.
Bev had declared this Sunday a day of recreation and ordered that no work be done. While everyone was happy with the news, they also knew that it meant a longer Monday was to follow. Bev also announced a surprise that affected Brent deeply. His mother would be joining them for the entire Sunday. Mackenna was happy to see the joy in his face at this and it made her immediately anxious to meet the woman who had mothered the man she was giddy about.
It had been two weeks since Buddy had taken out her knee, an injury which thankfully only required a brace, crutches and four weeks off. Mackenna was halfway through that prescription and had spent it helping in the kitchen, the laundry and in any other way that Bev would allow her. She was upset to miss the days on horseback, trading barbs and looks with Brent, and Kelly’s daily recaps of her interactions with him was nourishing a jealousy that continually needled her. She was determined to make up for lost time on this rare day off.
Sure that she looked her best, she turned toward the doorway to find Kelly standing there, leaning casually against the jamb smiling at her.
“You look really pretty,” Kelly said.
Mackenna looked her friend up and down. She wore a tight, pale yellow sundress. Her cleavage spilled out of the halter top and her long, lithe thighs revealed themselves beneath the short skirt. Her beautiful burgundy curls tumbled down all around her making her light green eyes shine in compliment. Mackenna felt a stab of inferiority in her chest and she swallowed passed it to return her best friend’s smile.
“And you look gorgeous, as always,” she said lightly.
“Oh, shush,” Kelly dismissed as she swiped at the open air. “I’ve come to help you down the stairs.”
“I’ll be fine,” Mackenna reassured. “I’ve already got two crutches.”
“Well, if you insist.” She stepped out of the doorway and motioned for Mackenna to go first. “After you.”
Mackenna eased passed her and used the crutches to prop her weight down the steps, one at a time. As the main floor below appeared, all those assembled looked up at the clacking of the crutches. She smiled down at them before making a quip about her awkward slowness. She sought and found Brent. He
was standing casually near the doorway, his hands thrust into his jean pockets with only his thumbs hooked out. His plain white tee-shirt laid across his chest in a way that belied the bulk beneath it. His blonde hair hung down to his shoulders and had the crisp look of hair that had been washed and then dried naturally by the mountain breeze. He grinned when they made eye contact and her heart soared all the way into her smiling eyes.
“Isn’t she recovering quickly?” Kelly called and Mackenna saw Brent’s eyes flit to the woman behind her on the stairs. The smile went slack, along with his jaw and the brightness that had lit his eyes a moment before darkened to a deep and hungry blue. Mackenna felt something inside her crumble and her face sagged with emotion. She nearly stumbled. Several bodies moved toward the stairs to help as Kelly wrapped an arm around hers to steady her.
With humiliation and heartache coupling inside of her, she did her best to descend swiftly. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Brent was there.
“Hey, stranger,” he said.
“Hey,” she said sadly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as they walked toward the screen door.
“Nothing,” she hedged as he held the door open for her.
What really could she say? Her own thoughts and feelings were at war inside of her. She hated the way she was beginning to foster feelings of bitterness and competition toward her best friend. Kelly was a true and loyal companion to Mackenna and they had albums full of fun times created over half of her lifetime. The guilt of her private war ate at her every time she looked at her.
So, they liked the same guy. Neither one of them had any claim on Brent and he didn’t seem wholly interested in either of them. Where he was obviously drawn to Kelly’s physical beauty, he indulged in Mackenna’s personality. She supposed she should find that flattering, but she didn’t. She wanted to see that hunger in Brent’s eyes when he looked at her. She wanted him to watch her the way he watched Kelly dance their second night on the ranch.
She tamped down the jealousy that was becoming all-too-familiar and forced reason back into her resolve. She would not let a man come between their friendship. The summer was halfway over and then they’d all return to their real lives, leaving this tiny slice of Montana behind them. While she could no more control her feelings toward Kelly than she could toward Brent, she made a firm promise to herself that she would not act on either set of emotions.
“Man, something is definitely working its way around your brain,” Brent said, breaking through her train of thought. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled in reassurance. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I know better than to ask a woman that question three times anyway.”
“Well, at least you’re finally accepting me as a woman,” she said playfully.
“My mistake,” he answered. “Slip of the tongue.”
“Careful,” she warned. “I’m armed now.” She lifted a crutch as though to swing it at him and he laughed, backing out of range.
It felt good to be teased again, he thought. Ty’s humor was dry, knowing and sparse. Kelly was ostentatiously flattering. The guests he’d been working with were a variety of prissy, whiny females and macho, wanna-be cowboys. Compared to the company he’d been surrounded by the past two weeks, Mackenna was a fresh breath of relaxed and easy enjoyment.
Brent could be civil to anyone, but the truth of it was that most people he simply endured. Very few actually interested him and even then they tended not to hold his interest long. He and Ty had the mortar of shared experiences and circumstances. They were both thrust into positions they neither wanted nor could walk away from. It was something they both acknowledged, and something that they never spoke of. They just helped each other live it.
Mackenna was far more than he had expected, which wasn’t much. She was funny, strong-minded and willed. She never complained. She worked hard and what’s more, she loved every minute of it. There wasn’t a moment out there when she didn’t look like she was having the time of her life. She had a good heart and disarmed him far more easily than she knew.
At first, he had wondered why he allowed her to access certain parts of him that he shut off from others, but then the reason occurred to him. She was safe. No matter how mature she was, the truth was that just six months ago, she was sixteen years old. He was twenty-four and for that reason alone she was safe to befriend. Kelly was a few months shy of nineteen and therefore on the cusp of being a potential conquest.
A car rolled down the gravel road toward them and Brent acknowledged it with a smile. He left Mackenna on the porch and went to greet it. His mother, Mackenna thought, but she frowned when the driver emerged as a young woman dressed in nurse scrubs. The woman made her way to the car’s trunk as Brent threw open the passenger door. He bent over and seconds later emerged with an older woman cradled in his arms.
“We won’t need that, Emma!” he shouted gleefully to the nurse who was in the process of unfolding a wheelchair. He spun around and strode toward the porch while the woman he carried latched her arms around his neck and giggled. They spoke to one another in voices too low for Mackenna to understand but she could tell by the unmistakable pride in the woman’s face, and the absolute love in his, that this was mother and son.
Mackenna discreetly watched the woman’s legs dangle lifelessly as they approached and she wondered what had caused her condition. When Brent finally made his way to the porch, the line of McCraes that had emptied from the cabin began greeting his mother with hugs and kisses. Bev was last and she threw her arms around the pair and squeezed with all of the gusto her personality normally carried. Then, Brent turned to Mackenna.
“Mom,” he began, “this is Mackenna. She’s the friend of the McCraes I was telling you about on the phone. Mackenna, this is my mom, Alora Thompson.”
Mackenna’s eyes widened with the knowledge that he’d been talking about her to his mother. What had he told her? All good, she hoped. When she eyed the woman in Brent’s arms she was stunned to find that she was nowhere near as old as she had looked from afar. Her long, straight hair which looked gray before, was a light silver streaked with the blonde that her son wore. Her eyes matched Brent’s in shade and hue and the resemblance ended there.
Where Brent’s face was angular, his mother’s was round and soft. Where his eyes were round, hers were slightly slanted on the outer edges, giving her a flatteringly feline look. Sadly, the skin beneath those eyes was shadowy and the rest of her pale face bore lines that advertised the hardships she’d undergone in recent years. Her body was small and fragile-looking, but her smile was bright and maternal. Mackenna smiled in return.
“So pleased to meet you, Mrs. Thompson,” she said. “And please don’t believe anything bad he’s said about me.” She flicked her head toward Brent as she teased. Alora laughed.
“Please, call me Alora,” she said warmly. “I’m no longer Mrs. Anything and that title always made me feel old anyway. I see no reason to feel any older than I am.”
Alora held out a hand and Mackenna shook it.
“Alora it is, then,” she said.
“Good, and don’t you worry. Brent has said nothing bad about you.”
“Sshh, Ma!” Brent said jokingly. “Don’t spoil Mackenna’s opinion of me.”
They laughed and made their way to the barbeque pits, where Grant McCrae was tossing soaked hickory chips onto the fiery coals. The smoking meat filled the air with a delicious aroma and every stomach grumbled in response. Brent found a shady spot for Alora and placed her gently onto a wooden chair. Her hand soon held a glass of iced tea and Brent never left her side. As Mackenna watched the animation and affection in his face while he visited with his mom, she completely forgot her plan to steal all of his Sunday.
Chapter 11
Sass’s muzzle was soft and warm as she pressed it to Mackenna’s forehead. She stroked the sides of the horse’s nostrils gently as sh
e apologized for not being able to ride. The sun was nearly set, casting everything in an even charcoal shadow. The noises of conversation, crackling bonfire and country music played over the sound system reached her mutedly as she leaned against the paddock fence.
The day had been pleasant, but as the music started up and the fire was lit, the crowd partnered up to dance. Mackenna couldn’t combat the self-pity that welled inside of her, so she decided to indulge in it privately. She hadn’t much time with Sass since her injury and the horse behaved as though she felt responsible for it, hanging her head and nuzzling. Mackenna sent reassuring words into the fuzz of her ears and the horse neighed happily.
A high-pitched, feminine squeal pierced her solitude and she recognized what followed as Kelly’s laughter. She turned and watched as Brent led Kelly through a quick succession of twirls and rock steps to a fast-paced country song. Kelly was in pure ecstasy and even as Mackenna’s heart sank a little deeper, she smiled softly. Her friend was beautiful and blissfully happy. Even Brent seemed to be enjoying the dance.
Mackenna didn’t realize she was crying until a salty teardrop made its way to her lips and she tasted it with her tongue. She chided herself with a single laugh and roll of her eyes. What was she doing? Warm air from the fire floated on the breeze around her. Millions of stars were winking overhead. Music and laughter completed the perfect soundtrack to what should have been a perfect evening and she was spending it away from everyone, crying because she couldn’t dance with the man she wanted.
“Oh, Mackenna,” she breathed to herself. “Get a grip, girl.”
She wiped her eyes and gave Sass a final pat and hobbled back over to the group. She leaned on the crutches, watching the dancers in the firelight until Alora’s voice gained her attention.
“Come on over here,” Alora called. “This section is for the cripples.”
Mackenna blanched.
“What?” Alora teased. “Are you surprised I called myself a cripple, or surprised that I called you one?”