by Sawyer Belle
Mackenna stumbled for words. “I’m…just surprised that you would use that word.”
“Well, shouldn’t I know better than anyone that I’m a cripple?”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t think of a response that wasn’t offensive so she chewed her bottom lip worriedly until Alora’s laughter tinkled around her.
“Good Lord, I was led to believe that you had a better sense of humor than this,” Alora said in jest. Mackenna’s grim expression finally faded into a laugh and she found a seat beside Brent’s mom.
“I’m sorry,” Mackenna said. “I guess I’m not feeling like myself tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a terrible blow to lose your legs.”
“But I didn’t lose mine,” she replied, blushing with chagrin. What right did she have to self-pity, indeed?
“Sure you did,” Alora returned. “You just lost them temporarily, but you still lost them. Anyway, it’s nice to have someone to chat to during the revelry. Oh, I’m sure you’d rather be out there, spinning away beneath the stars, but seeing as how you can’t, I’m appreciative of the company.”
“As am I,” Mackenna said with a smile.
“I do miss dancing though,” Alora said wistfully. “And I was damn good at it, too. Ah well. What about you, Mackenna? Do you dance?”
“I love to dance,” she answered. “I’m not very good at it, but I think it’s good fun.”
“How do you know you’re not good at it? Has someone told you that?”
“No,” Mackenna answered with a chuckle. “I just don’t get asked to dance that much. I figure that’s as good a sign as any.”
“Oh, honey, no it ain’t. Never judge yourself based off of a man’s behavior. If a man won’t ask you to dance, it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. More’n likely the problem is with him.”
Mackenna didn’t want to be rude and argue, so she shared her piece with a bitter laugh.
“Don’t believe me?” Alora asked, understanding the meaning beneath that laugh.
“Umm…maybe believe isn’t the right word,” Mackenna said politely. “I think I just disagree. If the problem is with the man and not with me, how come Kelly never lacks for partners? Men are obviously not afraid to ask her to dance. So, the thing is that they just don’t want to dance with me.”
Mackenna didn’t know it, but the expression on her face and the focus of her gaze made it blaringly obvious to Alora just which man she was talking about. Alora leaned toward her and clasped her hand.
“I didn’t say the problem was that he didn’t want to ask you. I just said that the problem was with him, not you.”
What does that mean, Mackenna wanted to ask. Alora was staring deeply at her, as if trying to relay a message without speaking the words. After a long moment, she straightened and released Mackenna’s hand with a gentle pat.
“Anyway, if you’re having fun and he’s having fun when you dance, then I’d say you’re a good dancer,” Alora said with finality.
Brent sent Kelly into another twirl. As she spun around, his eyes darted to his mother and Mackenna sitting side-by-side, conversing. He’d rather be sitting with them, or better yet, dancing with one of them. When Kelly had approached him for a dance, it was on the tip of his tongue to refuse. Had it not been for his mother’s warning pinch on his upper arm, he would have done just that. He would have refused her and humiliated his mother with the rudeness of it. So, he accepted.
As the song wound down to its final beats, another just as quick began. Kelly was content to carry on dancing, but he pulled away and motioned to the two seated women.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I think everyone should enjoy this party.”
Before Kelly could speak, he headed toward the pair he’d been eyeing. Both watched him approach and both sent him dazzling smiles that he couldn’t help returning. He ran a hand through his hair and tucked the sides behind his ears. When he stood before them, they spoke their greetings and before another word was said he bent over and hoisted the woman into his arms.
Mackenna gasped as she was lifted into the air, her crutches clacking as they tumbled to the earth. Her hands flew around his neck as she settled into the crook of his arms, her braced leg shooting out straight as a board. He laughed at her surprise as he spun around and went into the dancing crowd. She looked over his shoulder at Alora, who was all smiles and waving. When Mackenna finally looked back at Brent, he was smiling down at her.
“Does it hurt your knee to be held?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered, knowing perfectly well that even if it did, it didn’t.
“Good!” he exclaimed before spinning around in one fast revolution. Mackenna yelped and tightened her grip on his neck.
“Brent!”
“What?” he asked in mock innocence as he rocked her back and forth to the rhythm of the music. “Don’t you want to dance?”
“Yes, but…” her words were cut off by another round of spinning.
She decided not to fight it but relaxed her neck, leaning her head back as Brent turned round and round. When he finally ground to a stop, wisps of her hair whipped across her face and stuck to her bottom lip, shining like spun gold. Her eyes were bright and glistened with the reflection of dancing bonfire flames. She was panting mildly from the whirl. Brent studied her face and felt a sudden urge to kiss her. Slowly, she smiled.
“Dizzy?” she asked, throwing ice water on his heated thoughts.
Whoa, he thought. Where did that come from?
“A little,” he answered, then began to rock and dip to the beat of the music while Mackenna laughed and grinned in his arms. When the song came to an end it was replaced with the slow strumming of a guitar. Instantly, Brent’s movements slowed to match the beat and his awareness of every detail grew. He realized how light Mackenna was in his arms, how cool her fingers felt on his warm neck, how long and soft her hair was as it fell over his forearms.
“Aren’t your arms getting tired?” she asked.
He chuckled. “What? Holding you?”
She nodded.
“Not hardly,” he shrugged. “You’re not heavy enough to give me a workout.”
“Oh, please,” she snorted and rolled her eyes. “You and I both know I’m a bigger girl.”
Brent frowned, almost angry. “Mackenna, the only thing big about you is your heart.”
And it’s all yours, she wanted to say as his words pierced her soul.
He continued to sway with the music, watching her eyes smile with the enjoyment she always found in life. Tim McGraw’s voice cried overhead with words that penetrated Brent’s thoughts. Look deep inside the eyes of a woman, see the man you want to be. A sudden smile tugged at her lips and he answered it with his own, knowing that an idea was about to spill from her lips.
“Dance with your mom,” she said.
“What?” he asked, not expecting that.
“Dance with your mom,” she said with growing excitement. “She was just telling me how much she misses dancing.”
He watched Alora eye the dancers with amusement and longing. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it? He looked at Mackenna with gratitude and affection for her thoughtfulness. There were so few pleasures he could offer his mother and such a simple one had nearly escaped him.
“Thank you,” he said with emotion.
She smiled out of one side of her mouth, creating soft becoming lines staggering up her cheek like ripples in a pond and he once again fought the urge to touch those lips with his own. Instead, he walked toward his mom and set Mackenna down gently only to extend his hand to Alora. She looked at it with a questioning brow.
“Come on, Ma,” he said. “Come dance with your son.”
Alora burnished the most magnificent smile as she placed her hand in her son’s. Brent held her easily and returned to the crowd to finish out the song with his mother. Alora smiled softly up at her son, her only pride and joy now.
“I rem
ember when I used to hold you like this and dance,” she said with a mother’s emotion straining her voice. Brent smiled and she continued, cupping his cheek with her hand. “It’s so good to see you smile again.”
“What are you talking about, Mom? I smile.”
“I don’t mean smiling for my benefit,” she said pointedly. “I mean smiling for yours. Smiling because you’re happy and you want to smile.”
“Don’t be silly,” he dismissed.
“I was right to force you here this summer. It’s been good for you to be away from me, for you to actually enjoy a little bit of life.”
“Mama, let’s not go through this again,” he said seriously. “I enjoy life with you, and I’d take you home tonight and stay with you if you’d let me. This tourist gig is not for me.”
“Oh, Bull!” she roared with a laugh. “You can’t lie to your Mama. You’re having fun out here. I can tell.” She sent a nod toward Mackenna. “And I know who to thank for it, too.”
“Ma,” he said in a warning tone.
“She’s lovely.”
“Mom…”
“And good looking, too…”
“Mama…”
“And hopelessly smitten with you.”
He paused.
“No, she’s not,” he said after a thought. “We’re pals.”
“You very well may be, but I’m telling you that girl has stars in her eyes when she looks at you. And why shouldn’t she? You are a good catch.”
“Why shouldn’t she? Because you said it: she’s a girl. Six months ago, she was only sixteen years old. Good Lord, Mom. What do you think I am?”
“Semantics,” she dismissed with a wave. “You could say six months ago she was sixteen, or you could say she’s halfway to eighteen. It’s not that big of an age difference. Besides, women mature faster than men, so you’re actually probably the same age anyway up here.” She tapped his head.
“Thanks,” he said dryly and she laughed.
“I’m teasing you, honey. Really though, why not Mackenna?”
“I don’t know,” he shifted uneasily. “It’s just not like that between us. She’s like…she’s…like..”
“She’s like who?” Alora asked, already knowing the answer.
“She’s like Nat.”
Alora’s eyes brightened with sad remembrance of the daughter that was no more and she swallowed passed the lump of emotions crowding her throat. Brent immediately regretted his words, but he could not recall them.
“She’d be Mackenna’s age if she had lived,” Alora said quietly.
“I know.”
Alora’s smile faded and she withdrew into the quiet place in her mind that she often retreated to and Brent’s gut wrenched with guilt. He sighed, wishing he could redo their entire conversation.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Alora pulled herself up to kiss his cheek.
“Brent, when are you going to accept that you are not responsible for my troubles? Not for any of them.”
He hugged her tightly to him, unable to form words. What was he doing here? This frail, courageous woman carried more burdens than was fair. He was the only one who could help her and protect her and he was out here playing tour guide. What’s more, he had been enjoying it, just as Alora said. For that, he hated himself.
Chapter 12
Gone was the Brent she had come to know and love. He was replaced with the surly, mean character she had met on day one. She hadn’t noticed his slip backward in the remaining two weeks of her recovery because she hadn’t much contact with him. Now that she was riding again and back at her regular duties, the difference was staggering.
When she teased, he rode away. He spoke only what absolutely needed speaking. He snapped at Kelly enough that she suspended her pursuit and filled her mouth with unpleasant opinions of him. He and Ty could be seen arguing almost nightly by the stables because the guests were starting to complain to Bev of his abruptness.
There were only three weeks left of the summer season when Mackenna finally decided to brave the beast. Evening was falling. Guests were hunkered around the fire pit, visiting with Bev and Grant while they ate barbeque. Ty and Leslie were shoeing one of the horses in the round corral. Lord knew where Kelly was, but Mackenna knew where Brent was.
He was in the second story of the stables, in his wooden loft that hung over half of the stalls. It was completely open, no doors in or out, and had only one square window that ran the height of the wall and could be easily shuttered. Narrow wooden steps led the way up and Mackenna made no attempt to hide her approach. In fact, she called out to Sass and tossed down an apple as she climbed above her stall.
Once she reached the platform, she found Brent sitting cross-legged in front of the open window, his arms wrapped around his knees, fingers dangling casually in between. He still wore the red bandana he’d had on during the workday. He had let his stubble grow out longer in the previous week. It wasn’t quite a full beard, but definitely more than a shadow. He wore the same clothes he’d been riding in: blue jeans and a white tee. His back was to her.
“Whatever you came up here for,” he called angrily, “I don’t have it. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said with an exaggerated exhalation. “Glad we got that part out of the way.”
“Go away, Mackenna,” he said wearily with a sigh.
“Are you trying to scare me with your attitude?” she asked evenly. “If you are, you can stop wasting your time. I spent six hours with a grizzly. I hate to tell you, but he takes the cake.”
“I’m not trying to scare you,” he bit back. “I’m trying to tell you that I don’t want you here.”
She sat down beside him, crossing her legs like his. “Well, that’s just too damn bad,” she said, “cause I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on with you.”
“I hope you brought a blanket,” he said. “It gets cold here in the middle of the night.”
“I remember,” she reminded him. “But If I’m here that long I’ll steal yours. So, see? It’s in your best interest to tell me what’s up so I can leave.”
“It’s none of your business,” he growled. “Just leave it.”
Here, she faltered. “You’re right. It’s not my business, but it’s really bothering me how much you’ve changed.”
He said nothing, just continued to watch the sunset out of the window. The last golden rays exploded in shafts of brilliant light shooting up from behind Mortimer Peak. Mackenna didn’t want to force him to reveal anything he wasn’t comfortable with, but she couldn’t stand this cold, harsh distance between them. She’d been racking her brain for weeks to determine when he had changed. She decided to test her theory.
“Alora is a strong woman,” she stated.
“She’s fragile,” he returned stiffly. “She’s far weaker than she realizes, and too pigheaded to listen to reason.”
“Aah,” she drawled. “So, that’s where you get it from.”
He rose swiftly with an impatient huff.
“Brent,” she called after him as he began pacing. “Come on, it was a joke.” She stood, facing him. “Look, I get it. You feel guilty that you are not with your mom, helping her out, but why does that mean that you have to act like a jerk around here?”
He stopped abruptly and glared at her.
“Mackenna, you don’t get anything. It’s not about missing my mom. It’s about taking care of her. She’s got no one but me to look out for her.”
“That’s not true,” Mackenna interrupted his flow. “She has Emma and a whole host of friends in the McCrae family.”
“One family of friends and a live-in nurse,” he said dryly. “This should make her life happy and me happy for abandoning her to it?”
“How many people does a person need to be happy?” she asked, and when he didn’t answer right away she spoke with more sympathy. “Even if you could fill every moment of
your mom’s life with love and laughter, it’s not going to make her walk again.”
“So, the answer is to not try to make her happy?” he said, dripping with disdain.
“No, Brent,” she said firmly. “Don’t twist my words.”
“What’s your point then?” he snapped.
“My point is that you are trying to heal something that can’t be healed,” she returned heatedly. “You can labor away for the rest of your life but you’ve already set yourself up for failure.”
Brent turned his back on her, balling his fists against a rising anger. When he finally spoke the words ground out of his mouth in a low snarl.
“Mackenna, I know you came here to help, but you have no idea what you’re talking about, and all you’re doing is pissing me off. Go away. Go back to your horses and your jokes and your freedom and leave me alone.”
She sighed with a frown. This was not going at all the way she had hoped or wanted. Something was eating away at him and it was bone deep. The deeper he hurt, the worse his insults were. Her heart swelled with ache for his pain. He had made up his mind, though, and he was shutting her out. She was not going to reach him through words. She gathered all of her years of experience with her mother’s work and decided to back off.
“I’ll leave, Brent,” she said. “But I want you to know that I am not leaving because you’ve insulted me, or because you’ve yelled at me, or even because I’ve made you angry.” She paused, waiting for him to turn around but he did not. “I’m leaving because you deserve to be alone right now with the way you’re acting. You’re determined to be miserable and that is such a waste.” She made to leave but could not depart without expressing the last of her thoughts. “And it’s damned selfish of you!”
At that, he snapped around, his eyes pools of blue flames.
“Selfish?!” he yelled. “I’m selfish because I won’t come out and play with you?! Because I won’t indulge your little crush on me?!”
Mackenna stepped back as if she’d been slapped. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and then anger.
“No, you arrogant ass!” she shot back, her eyes and voice filling with tears. “You’re selfish for what you’re doing to your mother! She feels like she’s depriving you of life when you’re with her, and when she pushes you into something that you might enjoy, you make her suffer for it by forcing yourself to hate it. Either way, you’re miserable and she loses!”