Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  When Mac didn’t answer, she answered her own question. “I suppose it might be easy if you’re alone.” She bit her lip. “I’m glad we brought him the pup, Mac.” She looked across the truck console and was rewarded with a smile.

  “Me, too, Holly. They belong together.”

  Mac stopped the truck in the middle of the suspension bridge. “See any fish jumping, Riley?”

  Snug in her booster seat, Riley stretched to see the smooth surface of the creek far below. “Nope.” She settled back into her seat. “Now what, Daddy?”

  Mac raised his eyebrows. “Honey, we’re going home. Haven’t you had enough excitement for one day?”

  “Nope. I think I need some more excitement.”

  Mac shook his head. If he didn’t know better, he would think Holly was rubbing off on his little girl. His suspicion was confirmed at Riley’s next request.

  “Can I go see my horse?”

  Mac looked at Riley’s hopeful face in the rearview mirror. He glanced across at Holly. “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head. “I should check on Twister.”

  Mac shrugged. “Okay, I’ll drop you two off at the farm, run into the office and then come back in an hour or so.”

  When they arrived, Twister seemed to be waiting for them, and Holly had the horse saddled in no time. Riley sat on the bench as Holly trotted Twister around the paddock.

  Age slipped away from the old horse as he responded to Holly’s touch, and Holly reflected on the importance of purpose in life, whether you were old or young, human or animal. Not unlike Hawkeye and Buddy the Second. “Do you want to ride?”

  “What about Frosty? He wants some attention.”

  Holly followed Riley’s line of sight and saw Frosty peeking over the arena fence, blue eyes watching Twister with interest.

  Rounding the corner, Holly pulled Twister to a stop. Holly hadn’t worn a watch since she left the military, but she knew it had to be getting close to the time Mac would be coming to pick them up. She was about to respond when she saw Riley cross the corner of the paddock and approach her horse. She reached up to rest her hand on the perlino’s muzzle. The cream-colored horse and the small girl stood motionless in the bright afternoon sunlight. They looked like a painting, a frozen tableau. Behind them the green field stretched to the pine-covered hillside. Hand still on the horse’s nose, the little girl turned. “Rosalyn said you’ve been riding Frosty. Can I watch you?”

  “Okay, you miniature diplomat, you win. Let’s take care of Twister first.”

  Riley’s gap-toothed smile was a thing of beauty and Holly wondered how Mac was ever able to say no to the little girl.

  Working together, they unsaddled Twister, turned him out with the others and saddled Frosty.

  The Welsh pony had been easy to handle and was a dream to ride. Holly cantered him around the edge of the ring and then cut through the middle, the horse effortlessly changing leads. Coming around the far corner, she traversed the center again. Holly caught sight of Riley as she rounded the far end, sitting quietly on the top rail of the fence. She had put on Rosalyn’s white helmet. Holly’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you think, Miss McAndrews? How do we look?” She skidded to a stop in front of the girl.

  The look on Riley’s face melted her heart. “You look wonderful, Holly.” She caught a few strands of the coffee-colored mane in her hand and bit her lip. “I wish I could ride him.”

  Holly rested her hands on the saddle horn and realized she should have seen this coming. Of course Riley would want to ride Frosty. The gelding was her horse. He was a connection between Riley and her mother and anyone with a fraction of the horse sense Riley possessed would want to ride the animal. She tilted her head and studied the little girl, still trailing the mane through her fingers. “Your dad said he didn’t want you riding Frosty...”

  Riley nodded slowly.

  “...but he didn’t say you couldn’t ride with me.” At the gleam of excitement in the girl’s eyes Holly felt a burst of pleasure. She inched back in the saddle and motioned to Riley. “Stand up.”

  Riley held on to the fence with one hand and stretched a leg over the saddle in front of Holly. Holly wrapped her arms around the warm little body and settled her in the saddle. A frisson of guilt tickled her spine—both because Anne was missing the child’s first ride on Frosty and because somehow she knew Mac wouldn’t have agreed with her rationale. Riley leaned her head against Holly’s chest and looked up.

  “What are we waiting for?”

  Holly smiled. “What are we waiting for, indeed?”

  Riley’s girlish laughter trailed after them as they transitioned from walk to trot to canter.

  “Holly, Frosty’s wonderful. He’s so smooth and he seems happy, don’t you think, Holly? Don’t you think Frosty is happy because I’m riding him, Holly?”

  Holly laughed and was about to say yes when she caught sight of Mac standing next to the fence. The look on his face was a mixture of surprise, regret and anger. When she met his eyes she knew no amount of rationalizing would persuade him she hadn’t misled him.

  Her proposition wasn’t even twenty-four hours old. And she could tell the deal was off.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “HEY, MAN, WHAT’S HAPPENIN’?”

  Mac tore his gaze away from Holly, taking a moment to process the fact that Chris Hoffman was home again. “Hey, Chris.” Mac’s response was less than enthusiastic.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Chris propped one foot, still clad in his tasseled driving moccasins, on the bottom rail. He glanced at his sister, who was lifting Mac’s daughter down from the horse. “Hey, Riley finally got on Frosty. That’s great.” He elbowed his friend in the biceps. When Mac didn’t respond, he continued. “What’s up with you? You look like you’re ready to spit nails.”

  Finally fed up with Chris’s probing, Mac barked out a reply. “I told Holly my child was not to ride that pony and she deliberately went against my wishes.” He took a deep breath. “How dare she?” Fists clenched, he turned his back on the pair as they led the pony into the barn. The guilt was back, along with the fear.

  When he got no response from Chris, he stole a glance at his friend and almost did a double take. The friendly skies professional pilot was gone, replaced by...

  ...Holly’s brother. Chris had a belligerent tilt to his lips and both hands fisted at his side. His normally sparkling green eyes were cold as pond ice.

  “What?”

  Chris leaned into Mac’s face until their chins were almost touching. “You’re telling me my sister has spent the entire summer getting to know your daughter, spending time with your daughter, answering the million questions little girls have...and you really think she would do something that wasn’t in that child’s best interest?” Chris curled his lip and his voice came out in a soft growl. “I don’t think so.”

  It occurred to Mac that Chris, too, had spent time in a war zone and deep inside his friend lived another man, the man who always came to the defense of his loved ones. “You don’t understand.” Mac put a hand on Chris’s shoulder and the lip uncurled a fraction.

  “Oh, I understand. You’re still getting your head together. Well, guess what? You’re outta time. Step up to the plate, man. Quit letting other people pinch hit for you. You’re a father. Act like one. Being a good father is more than just finding adequate childcare. You need to be there. You, not someone else.”

  “I can’t care for a little girl. I couldn’t even protect the women I loved. First Anne, and then Holly.” Mac stared into the field where the horses stood, tails swinging, in the shade of an old apple tree. “Anne wanted so badly to train Frosty. That’s all she talked about.”

  “As sure as I’m better-looking than you are, Anne is up in Heaven looking down here and saying, ‘I didn’t breed that foal sp
ecial for my daughter just so he could lounge around in the field with his buddies. About time, you fool.’”

  Mac choked out a laugh. “I’m not sure if there’s any truth in your statement. Once you said you were better-lookin’ you kind of lost me.”

  Chris rested his arms on the rail next to Mac and followed his gaze to the horses. “The fact Anne is gone is not Holly’s fault, Mac.”

  Mac nodded. “I know.” He spoke on an exhaled breath. “It’s my fault.”

  Mac felt Chris’s startled gaze but he couldn’t look him in the eye. “Anne’s death is my fault,” he said again. “I was working the night of the accident. The snow was coming down like crazy and you know people down South don’t know how to drive in the snow.” He waved a hand in the air and gave a half laugh. “Up here everybody’s got snow tires, and chains, and four-wheel drive.” He wiped his hands over his face and started walking up the lane, not knowing if Chris followed him or not. The memories swept over him, leaving him chilled.

  Chris came alongside. “So you were working. Was Anne working? Did she have to drive home in the snow?”

  Mac chuckled. “That’s just it. She didn’t have to drive. She was home safe and sound with Riley and her parents.”

  “Why was she out driving?” They had reached the pond, and Chris crouched, looking through the scattered stones for a flat rock. Standing, he flipped the stone sideways across the pond.

  “Four skips. Not bad for an old guy.” Mac had trouble forming the words.

  “Yep, I’ve still got it.” Chris knelt again and dragged his finger through the stones. His head bent, he asked again. “Why was she out driving?”

  Mac sighed. He wished Chris would let the matter drop. “Typical husband-wife stuff. She’d been asking me for two days to pick up milk for Riley and I kept promising I would...but I didn’t. Riley was two. Anne couldn’t stand the idea of her baby not having milk.” He was looking at the hay field across from the pond but in his mind he saw sleet and snow driving at the windshield of his SUV. “I had the all-wheel drive, her father had the truck—he was picking up feed for the mares—and she had the car, the rear-wheel drive car, the absolutely worthless-in-the-snow car.”

  “That doesn’t make the accident your fault, Mac. Do you know how many times Val has asked me to pick something up and I’ve forgotten? I don’t even want to tell you.” He skipped another stone. “But what does that have to do with Holly?”

  The ripples from Chris’s stone spread out on the pond, overlapping. The pain in Mac’s chest threatened to explode and he gripped a sharp rock in his hand until he felt it break the skin. “I love seeing Holly with Riley, but then I remember Anne was supposed...”

  Chris’s hand grasped his shoulder. “That must hurt, but listen, man. Stuff happens in life and there’s not one damn thing you can do about it except pick yourself up and keep on going, one foot in front of the other.” He took a deep breath. “One more thing, my friend.”

  Mac looked into the green eyes. The ice had melted. “There’s more?”

  “Love is a risk. When you open your heart, there’s always the chance you could get hurt. That’s why you push everybody away. I’ve watched you do it ever since your dad died. Your daughter just needs you to love her.”

  Mac turned away. The realization that Chris noticed his inability to connect with his daughter hit him like a sledgehammer. And Chris wasn’t even in town most of the time. “Easy for you to say. Your wife’s home, your mother was home. The perfect family has always come easy for you. Not so much for the rest of us.”

  “You are so dense.” Chris propped his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Valerie works from home. She shows houses in the evenings. If I’m on a trip, she hires one of the neighbor girls to watch Harley. And what do you mean, Mom was home? She’s a nurse.”

  Mac’s anger reignited. He thought of his own mother working in the hospital gift shop during the day and taking nursing classes at night. “Later, maybe, after you left home. When we were in school your mother was always home. She went to all Holly’s games. Who are you kidding?”

  “She had enough seniority at the hospital she could choose her schedule. She worked swing shift, Mac. She just retired a couple years ago.”

  The air left Mac’s lungs in a rush. “Who watched the kids?”

  “If Dad wasn’t around, Sonny was in charge. That was fun.” Chris rolled his eyes. “Not. He used to pay us a quarter to do his chores.”

  Mac’s knees buckled. He eased himself down on the ground. The ripples from Chris’s stone disappeared against the far bank. “All this time I assumed your mother didn’t work.”

  “Well you assumed wrong.”

  “So all these years...” Mac had always measured his version of the perfect family against the Hoffmans. But he’d only seen part of the picture, or maybe what he wanted to see. “They let me go, Chris.”

  “Who did?”

  “Fayetteville. They were real nice about it—said I needed some time to pull myself together. I lucked out with Chief Stone.”

  “So you got a second chance, in more ways than one.” Chris slapped a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “So how can you ask Holly to give up her dream to meet your distorted sense of what a family should be?”

  “I didn’t ask.” Mac shuddered. She had told her family already? He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. “She volunteered.”

  “Holly called a family meeting. She said she’s closing the shop—borrowing from the bank to pay Dad and staying home for Riley. You should’ve seen the disappointment in my father’s face.”

  “In Holly?”

  “Heck, no. In you, big shot. I mean, what century are you living in?”

  “I thought she would be okay with that.”

  “Man, dense doesn’t begin to describe you.”

  “Hey, back off.”

  “One more thing.”

  “This makes two more things.” Mac crouched by the side of the pond, tossing stones into the water. High in the trees, locusts chirred then grew silent. In the field across the way a groundhog came out of his hole, eyes checking for predators. Finding none, the animal scampered across the field in search of a tasty morsel.

  “What can I say? I’m on a roll.” Chris bent at the waist and skipped a stone across the water, leaving five perfect circles in its wake.

  “Lucky for me.”

  “My sister loves you—I have no idea why—but she does. I guess that’s why she’s willing to give up her dream. You better treat her well.” He straightened and the professional pilot returned. “We should get back.” He pointed to his shoes. “My driving moccasins are getting dusty.”

  * * *

  HOLLY KNEW MAC was angry. She had seen the set of his jaw and the flash of his eyes. She also knew he wouldn’t take out his anger on Riley. She would be the lucky recipient. No matter. She could take it.

  When Chris and Mac appeared in the open doorway at the end of the barn, Holly was ready. “Hi, brother. Would you mind taking Riley to the house while I take care of Frosty? I heard a rumor Thomas and the kids are making homemade ice cream.”

  “You betcha.” Chris stuck out his hand. “Let’s go see what’s happening at the house, Miss McAndrews.”

  After a questioning look at her father and an answering nod, Riley took Chris’s hand and the two disappeared down the lane.

  Hooked to the cross ties, the perlino stood patiently as Holly ran a brush over the sweat marks on his belly. She discarded two opening salvos before finally deciding on the best approach. “I know Riley is your daughter, Mac, and I should have cleared the ride with you first.” She took a deep breath to quell the butterflies in her stomach.

  “I know.”

  “But she was so despondent I couldn’t say no.” The idea of never again riding with the little girl sent s
hivers down her spine.

  “I know.”

  “The horse is such a dream to ride.” She had to convince Mac to allow her to bring horse and child together.

  “You know, encouraging me to date was very clever of you.”

  “I wanted to share the experience with... Wait, what did you say?” Holly leaned an arm on the horse’s back.

  Mac came closer, with the same cowboy swagger she remembered from the beginning of summer, minus the accompanying jingle of spurs. “Do you love me, Holly?”

  She resumed her brushing, choosing to ignore his question. A minute later, she turned and found him just a few feet away. She gasped and pressed a hand to her pounding heart. “You scared me, sneaking up like that.”

  “Answer the question. Do you love me?” Mac ran a hand down the perlino’s nose.

  Holly took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Love isn’t relevant in our situation.”

  Mac took the brush out of her hand and set the tool on a nearby hay bale. “Chris said you loved me. Do you?”

  Holly tried to pull her hands away, both now firmly in Mac’s grasp. “What would he know? He’s thirty thousand feet above the ground most of the time. He probably suffers from oxygen deprivation.”

  Mac chuckled. “Your brother is an astute observer of humanity. Don’t tell him I said so. I’m tired of pretending, Holly. Why can’t you admit you love me?”

  Holly looked into Mac’s blue eyes, looked for sincerity, for love. Those eyes seemed the same as they had that day when Mac had walked back into her life. Warm. Compassionate. But love? Love couldn’t be identified as easily as compassion.

  Holly jerked away from Mac’s loosened grasp. She picked up the discarded brush, sank onto the hay bale and leaned back against Twister’s stall. “I love you both. I said it. Are you happy?”

  Mac unhooked the perlino and with a slap on the rump sent the horse through the open door into the paddock. He leaned against the stall opposite and crossed his arms and then his ankles. “Yes.” He smiled the same slow smile she had seen him give Wendy.