Brynn automatically clutched her glasses. “I didn’t say I would—”
“Oh, but a deal’s a deal,” Miranda echoed.
Brynn threw up her own hands. “I guess there’s no getting out of this.”
Miranda wagged her eyebrows. “Afraid not.”
Back in her own room, Brynn stared between her reflection in the mirror and the dress hanging from the closet door. She slipped out of the linen shift doubtfully. While part of her was drawn to the beautiful dress, the other part of her resisted something so obviously eye-catching—especially knowing Miranda planned to add makeup and a new hairstyle to the package.
But for one moment she allowed herself to wonder what Matt’s reaction to the dress might be. In the next, she chastised herself for the thought. She should be imagining Gregory’s reaction. After all, she was awaiting his return.
Shaking her head, she glanced again in the mirror. “You’ve lost it, girl,” she told herself. “Now you’re believing your own fables. You’re not waiting for Gregory to return. If he does get released, you’d better hightail it back to the city before he gets here.”
Her reflection winked back patiently, not saying a word.
“No help from you,” she muttered.
A knock sounded on the door, followed by Miranda peeking around inside. “You talking to someone?”
“Only myself.”
“I thought you’d be dressed by now,” Miranda commented, still out in the hall.
“You can come in,” Brynn invited.
But Miranda stalled.
Realizing the reason, Brynn forgot about her own dress. “Let me see!”
Reluctantly, Miranda stepped into the room. The gold dress was a perfect foil for her blond hair and big brown eyes. The muted color softened age lines and enhanced her features. And as Brynn had predicted, Miranda did shine.
“You look absolutely lovely,” Brynn declared with conviction.
“You’re kind, but—”
“Nothing of the sort,” Brynn interrupted. “You positively glow!”
Miranda pinkened a bit. “You have stars in your eyes.”
“If I do, you put them there—” Brynn waved to the party dress still hanging on the closet door “—with all your fanciful talk.”
Miranda became all efficiency as she swept farther into the room, the folds of her silk dress swirling about her as she brought in her cosmetics case. “We could spend all night complimenting each other. Maybe we should put our dresses to the test and let someone else do the complimenting. But, first, your makeup.”
Brynn eyed her warily. “I’m really not used to wearing much...”
“Lucky for you that you’re a natural beauty.”
Blushing, Brynn ducked her head.
“Even your color’s natural.” Miranda sighed. “Oh, to be young again.”
“What would you do if you could turn back the clock?” Brynn asked.
Miranda paused, then smiled softly. “Take more chances. Go after what I really want. Now, no more stalling. Sit at the makeup table and let me do my magic. And off with those glasses!”
When Miranda finished applying the cosmetics, Brynn had to admit she liked the new look. Miranda had used a subtle touch and delicate colors, enhancing rather than changing.
Miranda eyed her critically. “What do you think?”
“Actually ...I like it. Do you think I could learn to do this?”
“Of course you can. You draw a comic strip. Just pretend you’re coloring in a new character.”
Brynn laughed. “I never thought of it like that.”
Miranda scooped up a handful of long, dark hair. “This is next.”
Gulping, Brynn tried to look cheerful. “Okay.”
Having come equipped, Miranda pulled a curling iron from her case, along with some rhinestone hair combs. “We’re going to keep it uncomplicated, elegant. You don’t want to compete with the simple lines of the dress.”
It didn’t take long for Miranda to sweep up Brynn’s hair, cleverly fastening it in place on top of her head, then fashioning lots of loose curls to trail over her shoulders.
Fascinated, Brynn watched the transformation. Always having downplayed her wild mane, she’d never considered making it a focal point. Turning her head from side to side, she was secretly delighted as the rhinestones winked back at her.
“Do you like it?” Miranda asked, sounding as though she already knew the answer.
“It actually looks pretty,” Brynn responded, amazed.
“It always looks pretty,” Miranda corrected. “Now it’s striking.” She stepped back for a moment, obviously pleased with her efforts. “Now, for the pièce de résistance.”
Slipping the dress from the hanger, she held it out. “Let’s be careful not to muss your hair or makeup.”
The daring neckline and equally low back made the dress easy to slip on. Brynn’s first instinct was to cover all the bare skin. But Miranda was fastening the hooks. A second glance had Brynn noticing that the skirt seemed to be made of yards and yards of material.
Hesitantly, Brynn ran one hand over the iridescent folds of silk. It was an incredible-looking dress. Twisting to one side, Brynn was shocked to see that the nearly backless dress revealed even more skin than she’d imagined. Still, it was a dream of a dress. The delicate ice-blue silk was perfect against her fair skin. She couldn’t have designed a dress that would have suited her more.
“Still think it’s gorgeous?” Miranda asked.
“And daring,” Brynn added, uncertain she could pull this off. Could she really walk into a room full of people, knowing they would all be looking at her?
Miranda gently patted her shoulder. “Nervous?”
Brynn nodded, trying to swallow past the sudden knot in her throat.
Sympathy bloomed in Miranda’s eyes. “There’s no need. Even if you don’t believe that you’re worthy of the attention, remember you’re not walking into a crowd of strangers. Instead of looking at a sea of unknown faces, just pick out all your new friends and remember they’re cheering for you.”
The knot in Brynn’s throat turned into a lump of emotion. “You’ll make me cry.”
“And ruin my expert makeup job? Oh, no, you don’t!” She gave Brynn a gentle hug. “One last thing, though.” Miranda turned to the cosmetics case, unearthing a small jewelry box and handing it to Brynn.
“What is it?”
“Open and see,” Miranda instructed.
Brynn lifted the lid and stared at emerald-cut diamond earrings, their facets flashing with ice-blue sparks. “Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Miranda lifted them from the case and placed them in Brynn’s hands. “They were my grandmother’s. And I don’t know anyone in the family more suited to wear them.”
Waves of guilt crashed over Brynn. How could she wear the family jewels? It was too much of a mockery. “Really, it’s not necessary. I don’t need earrings.”
“The dress cries out for them. With that neckline, you can’t wear anything at your throat. But your earlobes look positively naked. With your hair up, it’s no debate. Besides, my grandmother picked the silk for this dress to match the earrings. I think she’d like to know they finally got worn together.”
Knowing she couldn’t argue and unleash further pain from the past, Brynn shakily donned the earrings. Looking into the mirror, she knew instantly that Miranda was right. They were the perfect touch. “Thank you, Miranda. I feel like a fairy princess.”
“You look like one, too.”
Impulsively, Brynn hugged her. “Then you must be my fairy godmother.”
A soft rush of emotion crossed Miranda’s face. “You’re a keeper, Brynn. Now, shall we make our grand entrance?”
MATT STOOD IN THE LOBBY, watching it fill, already wishing the evening was over. Unnerved since his encounter with Brynn, he’d been cranky and taking it out on innocent decorations and refreshments. But it beat dumping on employees or guests—both alternatives equally distasteful t
o him.
Normally he loved the Harvest Ball, which was the official kickoff for Octoberfest. But now all he could think of was the latest fax regarding Gregory’s situation. The missive had indicated a measure of hope. And instead of being glad that the brother he loved was one step closer to freedom, all he could think of was that it was also one step closer to Brynn’s departure.
Gregory would be grateful they’d taken Brynn to heart, but he’d be equally anxious to sweep her back to their world—a world that didn’t include Eagle Point. Or the rest of the MacKenzies—at least, not on a daily basis.
Matt supposed he would see Brynn on holidays—the requisite Thanksgiving and Christmas appearances—provided family celebrations didn’t interfere with Gregory’s more important plans.
And eventually he’d become Uncle Matt. Good old Uncle Matt.
Hearing a stir in the room, he glanced up and saw his Aunt Miranda descending the staircase. She looked younger, softer and decidedly attractive. Moving forward, he extended his hand as she reached the last step.
“Thank you, my dear.” Then she gently withdrew her hand. “You’ve always been my best fellow. But there’s more to come.” Miranda stepped aside, directing his attention back toward the staircase.
Matt casually glanced upward, then found his gaze locked in place. He blinked, then stared again.
At the top step, Brynn hesitated, then began her descent.
And as she did, he forgot to breathe. She was a vision, an incredible, magical vision. With each descending step, he fought for air, then surrendered to the inevitable. Some portion of his brain demanded that he remember his brother, but everything else in him refused to listen.
His feet moved of their own accord, carrying him to the base of the stairs, ready to offer his hand when she met him at that last step.
A step that brought them eye to eye, heartbeat to heartbeat.
His brain gauged the absent glasses, the makeup, the elegance of her hair, and then the shimmer of her stunning dress.
Instantly jealous of every other man’s eyes on her, Matt knew she was creating testosterone chaos. And he was the prime victim.
Yet her smile was invitingly hesitant, rather than sly. Could it be she didn’t realize her effect? The dazzle that began with her sapphire eyes then ricocheted in the diamonds at her ears and the gleam of her striking dress. He was amazed that they weren’t surrounded by nuclear fallout simply from her entrance. He knew at that moment that he was little more than ash and dust.
“You look very handsome,” she offered, indicating the imported tailored suit he wore.
In his opinion, he could well have been wearing a T-shirt and cutoffs, he felt so far out of her league. He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Brynn.”
Her eyes widened and he saw shocked surprise before she lowered a sweep of dark, thick lashes. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”
No. He simply wasn’t blind anymore. Had he actually once thought she was too plain to attract his discriminating brother?
Feeling as though he’d been poleaxed, Matt remembered to extend his hand and lead her toward the ballroom. Her hand was soft and delicate within his, the long elegant fingers curling deliciously in his grasp.
The band began to play, but Matt scarcely heard the music. The room itself seemed to fade away. But his father’s voice near his ear brought reality back with a snap.
“You look lovely, Brynn.” Frank’s voice was weak, but sincere.
“Oh, yes, dear. You’re positively radiant,” Ruth agreed, never far from her husband’s side. Her worried glance lit on Frank before she turned the rest of her attention to Brynn. “I love the way young people bring back fashions and make them seem even better the second time around.”
Frank’s eyes held a puzzled expression. “That dress looks familiar.”
Brynn smiled diplomatically, not certain Miranda would want her past paraded out for discussion. “It’s like wearing a family heirloom. It seems familiar and special.”
Ruth turned to her son. “This is a lovely song. Perhaps you should ask your aunt to dance. As usual, the women outnumber the men.”
Glancing up, Brynn saw a pained expression cross Matt’s face and wondered at the cause—especially since she knew he was very fond of Miranda.
Matt started toward his aunt. At the same time Brynn noticed a handsome, older man approaching Miranda. Impulsively, Brynn reached out to stay Matt’s departure. “I think she may have a dancing partner.”
Ruth and Frank heard and glanced at Miranda, as well.
Ruth, the eternal romantic, sighed. “This looks promising.”
“If she’ll give him a chance,” Frank muttered.
Ruth met Brynn’s eyes. “Men!”
Since she was hardly an expert on that subject, Brynn wisely chose to only smile. At the same time, she allowed her gaze to dart sideways briefly, taking in Matt’s Continental, yet uncultivated look. Having thought of him only as rugged, outdoorsy, and athletic, it hadn’t occurred to her that he could look so unaffectedly sophisticated. And both looks were equally appealing.
“Since Miranda has a partner, you young people can dance,” Ruth urged. “No sense wasting great music.”
Matt heard his mother’s words with a mix of anticipation and dread. Could he hold Brynn in his arms and remember she was now a sister? Why couldn’t Gregory have kept to his old habits and chosen an ice queen?
Welcoming the torment, he offered his hand to Brynn. “Would you like to dance?”
When she nodded, the diamonds on her ears signaled their own fiery reply and elusive glints of captured starlight twinkled in her hair.
Matt held her a respectable distance away. But his arms itched to draw her closer, welcoming her bewitching spell.
Brynn glanced at the other couples, at the filled room, and sensed the good feelings flowing among the people. “It must be wonderful to claim a tradition like this for your own, to know every year that it will continue on.”
“The harvest is because of the land. And the land guarantees permanence,” he replied, warmed by the subject closest to his heart, driven to share its importance with her. “As eternal as the mountains guarding it, as diverse as the sky above it.”
Brynn’s eyes widened. “You sound almost poetic...as though it’s in your soul.”
“That’s because it is. Eagle Point’s more than the lodge and ski lifts, more than all the improvements I want to add. It’s a renewal. A promise that the family and what we stand for goes on.”
Her eyes clouded and he was instantly reminded just where her position in that family was. At whose side she belonged.
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way,” she finally replied, lifting troubled eyes to his. “Family’s very important to you, isn’t it?”
Painfully, unmercifully so. Matt straightened, girding his resolve. “More important than you could know.”
Her huge sapphire eyes shadowed, then glimmered with a suspicious sheen before she glanced away. “That’s the way it should be.” Her smile was tremulous. “The way I always wanted my own family to be.”
“The way you speak of your grandmother I thought your family was important to you.”
“Oh, it is. But my grandmother’s gone now.”
“Your mother’s alive.”
“So she is.” Brynn glanced down again. “But I’m sure you’d rather talk about something more interesting than my family dynamics. Like how you get all this to come together.” She waved her hands around the glittering room. “It’s really wonderful.”
“You were part of the process,” he reminded her.
“So I was.”
A small silence fell between them, brimming with awareness. The music slowed, causing a subtle shifting that brought couples closer together on the dance floor. Eyes met as bodies melded.
The silk of Brynn’s dress swirled between her and Matt. As did the complicated tangle of their relationship. Smiles held resolutely in place, they turned a
round the dance floor, the ache of what could be resonating between them. The truth of what couldn’t be, a silent chaperon—one that refused to relinquish its grasp, or ease the longing between them.
Chapter Eleven
Brynn entered the dining room warily, not certain she was prepared to face anyone over breakfast. Emotionally drained, she’d slept in but the restless slumber had only exhausted her more.
She’d considered losing herself in drawing her strip, but she couldn’t begin the day with Stephanie’s unerring sense of self. Especially since her own sense of self was blurring more each day.
To her relief, the dining room was nearly empty. Only Miranda sat at the table usually occupied by the family.
“Good morning,” Brynn greeted her, reaching for a mug, practically inhaling the brew. “I think I need a caffeine transfusion.”
Miranda laughed, looking completely rested. And something else. “Perhaps a coffee IV drip would do.”
Brynn searched her expression, wondering just what was different. “Any news about Gregory?”
Miranda shook her head. “No, but Matt’s been on the phone with the State Department for hours.”
Brynn tipped her head, studying Miranda. “You look awfully chipper after a late night.”
“Hmm.”
Now Brynn was certain something was up. Miranda was never this succinct. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s something different about you today.”
Miranda smiled into her coffee. “Funny. You’ve known me for two months and you can tell. But Frank and Ruth didn’t have a clue.”
“Then I’m right! What...” Her eyes narrowed as some of the caffeine crawled through her system and made contact. “Does this have something to do with the handsome man I saw you dancing with?”
A definite glow transfused Miranda’s features, even though she tried to make her voice sound innocent. “Edward?”
“I wasn’t introduced. Does he live in town? Or is he a guest?”
“A first-timer,” Miranda mused. “He heard about our Octoberfest from friends and decided to come this year.”
“Are his friends staying, too?”
The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie Page 14