The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie

by Bonnie K. Winn

  A sharp, poignant memory of her wish book—the wedding album—surfaced. Somehow that now seemed like a simpler time, when her choices and ambitions had been so clear. She’d seen Gregory and thought she knew what she’d wanted. Love at first sight had been part of the belief system her romantic nature embraced.

  Life in her daydreams hadn’t been very realistic. But it had certainly been easier.

  Two WEEKS LATER, BRYNN stared at her drawing board, unable to concentrate on her strip. She wasn’t quite sure how to handle the creative block since she’d never had this problem before. She’d always been able to lose herself in Stephanie’s world—a world she’d created to be more appealing than her own.

  Lancelot stood on his hind legs, pushing his nose beneath her hand. “Ignoring you, aren’t I?”

  His tail thumped in agreement.

  “I guess you could use a walk.”

  His ears perked up at the familiar word.

  “But Snookems doesn’t much care for her lead,” Brynn warned.

  The cat, asleep at her feet, didn’t stir.

  “Send ’em all to hell in a handbasket!” Bossy ordered.

  “Now there’s a thought,” she muttered. “Okay, guys. Maybe we’ve got cabin fever.” Ridden with guilt about both Miranda and Matt, Brynn had kept a low profile. Having stayed as much to herself as possible to avoid the MacKenzies and the complications she’d caused them, her room had become her refuge. And cabin fever was now a distinct possibility.

  Miranda had waved away Brynn’s stumbling apologies, assuring her they weren’t necessary.

  “I’m a big girl, Brynn. I knew what I was getting into. Told you, didn’t I? But that’s past. Don’t give it another thought. I chose to let myself care for Edward. That decision didn’t have anything to do with what you said. For all your wisdom, you’re still a young woman. My decision was based on a lot more years than you’ve seen. And I don’t regret it. It was an interlude, Brynn—one I’ll remember fondly.”

  Still, the guilt ate at Brynn. And a steady diet of deception had depleted her spirit. Seeing Matt multiplied the guilt. Not to mention the hope she saw on Ruth and Frank’s faces, the utter trust on Heather and Andy’s. What a mess.

  Lancelot whined, his eyes pleading.

  “You win. Go get your leash.”

  Happy to obey, Lancelot trotted to the basket that held his leash. Bringing it to her, he didn’t release it immediately, playing the tug-of-war game with the leash that had become their habit. Obliging him for a few minutes, she then clasped his leash in place.

  “Didn’t get Snookems’s leash, too, did you?” she asked Lancelot, who ignored her to chase the trailing leash attached to his collar.

  Laughing, she started toward the basket containing her pets’ toys and accessories. Glancing down she saw a sticky note nearly beneath her foot. As she picked up the note, she scanned it quickly, realizing it was one she’d scribbled late the previous evening when she’d thought of an idea for the strip, but had been too tired to follow through on it. The scrap of paper could have saved her an unproductive morning.

  Turning, she planted her hands on her hips as she stared at Lancelot, guessing how the note had wound up on the floor. “You’ve been on the nightstand again, haven’t you?”

  Too involved to act chagrined, Lancelot continued to play with his leash. The dog had always loved climbing from the bed to the nightstand, investigating for treats, poking his nose into the pile of papers she kept there. Staying at the resort apparently hadn’t changed the habit.

  Sighing as she shook her head, Brynn headed again for the basket And saw another note. “I wonder if I did more last night than I thought,” she wondered aloud.

  Whirling around, she narrowed her gaze on Lancelot. Part of his heritage had come from longhaired terriers, providing him with a lengthy coat of hair extending from his haunches to his paws. Hair that dragged against the ground, making his coat act like a dust mop. One that operated on four legs. And one that picked up sticky notes as though the animal had been bred for the job.

  While the dog played, she followed him, picking up the scattered trail of notes, then drawing him close to pull the remaining ones from his fur. “Ah, Lancelot. Treasures you’ve been collecting, huh?”

  He cocked his head and she couldn’t resist his appeal, once again engaging in a game of tug-of-war with him.

  Snookems wakened to the noise of their play and stretched sleepily. Brynn patted Lancelot one more time, then retrieved the cat’s leash.

  “Okay, gorgeous, your turn.” Brynn secured the lead to Snookems’s collar.

  With what little sight she possessed, the cat sent her a baleful glance.

  “Sorry, baby, but I couldn’t take another close call with you.” Petting the cat, she then turned a skeptical gaze on Bossy. “And you, my friend, had better behave.”

  “Ratted out!” the bird shrieked. “Ratted out!”

  Brynn rolled her eyes. “Okay, troops. Let’s roll.”

  Once outside, the animals wanted to run in three different directions. Since Brynn could have cheerfully run off in the fourth direction, she compromised. “Since Bossy’s not on a lead, we’ll go his way,” she told the others.

  Head held at a haughty angle, Bossy waddled forward, his clipped wings outstretched. Lancelot charged every bush in their path while Snookems delicately picked up each paw, not seeming to want to muss her long fur.

  Her eyes on the trail, Brynn didn’t look up as she walked ahead. The trees, now bare of leaves, held new snow. The storms had come, each bringing a new accumulation of white powder—the powder Utah was known for, worldwide.

  With Thanksgiving approaching, Eagle Point had gone into advanced preparation mode for the coming ski season. Traditionally the season opened on Thanksgiving weekend, and not a moment was wasted as the entire staff prepared for the onslaught of eager skiers.

  Brynn had wanted to volunteer to help, but the prospect of leaving her sanctuary daunted her. She’d even taken most of her meals in her room, pleading deadlines. Taking to walking her animals early in the morning and late in the evening, she managed to avoid a lot of contact. She hoped it would ease the break so that she could leave. What she was doing simply wasn’t right.

  No matter what the initial reasons and intentions, she was deceiving a family who had extended their hospitality, opened their home and treated her as one of their own.

  Over the past weeks Brynn had deliberately studied the wedding album. And as she did, she found herself staring at the faces of strangers. Even she wasn’t the same anymore. And, sadly, Gregory had been and always would be nothing more than a daydreams.

  Head down, Brynn found her thoughts drifting as she escaped into a daydream of a different sort. She could leave the resort. Gregory would be released, but rather than coming to Eagle Point he would return to Salt Lake, never encountering the wild stories she’d fabricated. And Matt, happy over the return of his brother, would believe that the wedding story had been in everyone’s best interests. Instead of being angry, he would be glad that she was free. And he would come after her. The deception would be forgotten; but the feelings that flowed between them wouldn’t. No longer would they have to hold back....

  Smacking into something firm and unmoving, Brynn’s daydream flew out of her head, along with her ski cap. Not having a strong grip on the animals’ leads, they, too, went flying.

  “What?” she began, then stopped as she met Matt’s curious gaze. “Oh, hello. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  “Apparently,” he replied, picking up her ski cap.

  “The animals,” she blurted out, uncertain what else to say. “I let go of the leads when you...when I...” She cleared her throat. “I’d better go find them.”

  As she started away, Matt called out, “Lancelot. Here, boy.”

  Brynn turned back to him. “He won’t come. Especially if a man calls.”

  She’d scarcely stopped speaking when Lancelot dashed up to them, apparently
content to let Matt take his leash.

  Brynn stared at her normally predictable dog. Traitor, she thought.

  Matt’s voice was mild. “I told you before that I don’t growl at him. He’s a smart dog and knows when it works both ways.”

  Brynn wondered at his affinity with the animals. Despite his put-upon attitude when dealing with her pets, he was actually very good with them. “I’m guessing there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Could be all sorts of things,” he replied enigmatically.

  “I meant about the animals,” she retorted, spotting Snookems and reaching for her lead.

  Matt shrugged. “I thought you were buried under a ton of work.”

  “I am. I mean, I just took a quick breather. The animals needed some air, but I do have a mountain of work... deadlines.... It’s really frantic.”

  He smiled. “I think I get the concept. How’s it been going?”

  “What?”

  “The work.” One brow quirked upward in question.

  “Of course,” she replied hurriedly. “I guess I’m just tired from the—”

  “Work,” he chimed in.

  “It has to be done,” Brynn explained with more force than necessary.

  Matt looked at her quizzically. “Most work does. Mother’s been worried about you—says you’re not eating enough to keep a bird alive.” He shot a glance at Bossy. “But I guess that’s a matter of opinion.”

  Brynn ignored the fact that she had indeed lost weight. “I’m eating plenty. There’s no need to worry. After all, I’m a big girl.”

  “That you are,” he murmured.

  His gaze warming her, Brynn felt a familiar jolt in her midsection. Why couldn’t she have met him under different circumstances? Instead of ones that no daydream could change. “Well, I’d better head to the lodge,” she managed. “I have to get back to—”

  “Work,” he finished for her.

  Helplessly she gazed at him for a moment before calling her animals and fleeing back to the lodge.

  Matt watched as she disappeared. He’d seen so little of her in the past weeks that she could be the figment of his wishful imagination. The telltale tracks in the snow convinced him otherwise.

  But Matt knew what Brynn doing. She was slowly disappearing, distancing herself so that the break wouldn’t be as severe when she left. Still, the distance would be there.

  And though he still fervently prayed for his brother’s safe return, Matt knew that once Gregory was back, that distance would be in place. Permanently.

  BRYNN STUMBLED THROUGH the darkened lobby, wondering what was going on. An urgent call from one of the staff members had brought her downstairs. Since the call, apparently either a fuse had blown or the electricity was out. Luckily one of the candlelit sconces in the hallway had illuminated the stairway.

  Running her fingers across the wall, she looked for a light switch just in case it had been accidentally turned off.

  So far she’d managed to knock down the MacKenzies coat of arms and tip over an oil painting of Gallagher MacKenzie. Brynn figured that at this rate, she could single-handedly destroy the lobby.

  Hearing a quiet noise scuttle close by, Brynn hesitated. Was she not alone? A shiver danced down her spine and she turned to investigate.

  As she did, the room burst into a kaleidoscope of light, noise and motion.

  “Surprise!” a chorus of voices shouted.

  Pure shock kept her frozen in place. It wasn’t her birthday. Had she intruded on someone else’s surprise and ruined it?

  But the women were all crowding around her and somewhere in her brain she registered the wording on the banners and decorations. Congratulations?

  Ruth and Miranda pushed forward. “It’s a bridal shower for you,” they explained together. “We thought with an elopement there couldn’t have been time for a shower and with your family living far away, we doubted you’d had one afterward, either.”

  “Well, no, I haven’t,” Brynn managed, overwhelmed by the roomful of beaming faces.

  “It’s one thing to skip the wedding,” Ruth told her. “It’s another entirely to miss the shower.” Then her face beamed. “And with the encouraging fax about Gregory yesterday, we thought we should make up for lost time.”

  “The guests didn’t mind clearing the lobby.” Miranda grinned. “For such a good cause—plus we set up a complimentary buffet on the deck.”

  Pulled to the center of the room, Brynn looked at the beautiful cake that held the place of honor on the buffet table. Her name and Gregory’s were twined together beneath double wedding bands. A rush of uncertain emotion choked her. “You really shouldn’t have done this.”

  “Pish,” Miranda dismissed. “What’s the fun of getting married if you can’t have the parties?”

  “I’m not sure,” Brynn admitted, realizing there was little she was sure of anymore.

  “The ballroom’s set up for dinner,” Ruth told her, taking her arm. “And your place of honor is at the head of the table.”

  Brynn clutched Ruth’s arm for support. She’d thought the buffet table looked scrumptious, but once inside the ballroom she was staggered by the exquisite formal dinner. Apparently the buffet table was the dessert course.

  Throughout the meal, Brynn could only battle her amazement. These wonderful people were far more than she deserved. And they deserved far more than her deception. Yesterday’s fax, though reassuring, hadn’t provided any real reassurances. The negotiations were proceeding and hopes were high. But Gregory was still in the hands of his captors. They had learned that the kidnappers were low-level South American Government officials. They had known Gregory would be there for negotiations, hoping to build a new plant. They’d taken advantage of a pre-planned meeting to swiftly abduct him. And Brynn didn’t believe she could wait out his release.

  Even as she graciously dined with her new friends, Brynn thought about what she must do. First, she had to determine if Frank’s health was steady. If so, it really was time for her to leave. She simply couldn’t continue to lie to the nicest people she’d ever known. Brynn’s throat constricted as she thought of leaving these new friends, the cozy town, and her adopted family.

  And her heart felt as though a fist had clamped around it as she thought of leaving Matt. When had that feeling become paramount? And what was she to do about it? Confess that she’d lied and deceived him and somewhere in the process, tangled her feelings irretrievably with his?

  The dinner drew to a close and the women strolled back into the lobby. A few of them nibbled on the pastries and chocolates lining the buffet. But most of them gathered around an armchair that was surrounded by a huge pile of gifts.

  Seeing the presents, Brynn could scarcely stifle her cry of dismay. “You really, really shouldn’t have done this.”

  “A shower without gifts is like Christmas without Santa Claus,” Ruth told her.

  “Or Christmas without gifts,” Miranda added in a droll tone, making everyone laugh.

  “But this isn’t necessary, and—”

  “Come on, kiddo,” Miranda intervened, taking her arm. “This is your chair—the place of honor, so to speak. And the way you’re dragging your feet we won’t get those gifts open till next Christmas.”

  More laughter erupted and Brynn allowed herself to be ensconced in the huge leather chair. Meeting several pairs of curious, cheerful eyes, Brynn knew she couldn’t stall much longer. Still, her hands moved slowly as she pulled the ribbon and bow from the first package.

  “I’ll take the bow,” Becky offered, her hand out. “I’ll make a wreath out of them.”

  “That sounds nice,” Brynn murmured, not caring what happened to the bows.

  “The way the bows line up tell you how many children you’re going to have,” Becky informed her.

  Brynn nearly choked. ‘“Children’?”

  “Sure. It sounds silly, but the wreath from my shower was right on.”

  Brynn turned her eyes heavenward. Whe
re was a good strike of lightning when you needed it?

  Ruth’s eyes softened. “Children are always a blessing.”

  Brynn silently agreed. Right now she wished she had one in the lobby screaming its head off to divert all the attention turned on her.

  “That package won’t open itself,” Miranda reminded her. Brynn peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing an expensive, cream-colored box with a distinctive engraved store emblem. She barely contained her sigh. The hole she was digging for herself could stretch nearly to China.

  Removing the lid and lifting back the tissue paper, Brynn saw a beautiful, cream-colored negligee. Tiny, exquisite satin rosebuds decorated the silk bodice. It was both simple and elegant. Nestled in the folds of silk, Brynn spotted a small card and picked it up.

  With love, Aunt Miranda

  Brynn’s eyes misted, because in her heart, the woman had become family, someone for whom she truly cared. Someone she would miss dreadfully.

  “Now don’t go all maudlin on me,” Miranda warned, a suspiciously hoarse note in her voice, as well.

  Brynn reached out to hug the older woman. Miranda returned the embrace, then cleared her throat as she patted Brynn’s back.

  “Now, now, you’ve got other presents to open.”

  Brynn brushed away a tear and accepted the next present she was handed. Taking less time with this one, she wished she’d lingered when she saw the contents. An outrageous bit of fluff that could be loosely termed lingerie emerged.

  “Let us see!” the women urged her, then broke into a chorus of oohs, aahs, and laughter as they saw the garment.

  Hoping it was one of a kind, Brynn opened the next present and saw something so similar it could have been its twin. Gamely she held it up. “This one’s red instead of black.”

  “Can’t have too much of either color,” Jean told her with a broad wink.

  The next two boxes contained flimsy bras and minuscule panties that Brynn doubted she’d ever have the courage to wear. She could just envision herself lying in a hospital emergency room trying to explain them to a stern-looking nurse.