The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie

by Bonnie K. Winn

  Attempting to maintain a smile, she dived into the next box. At first she was relieved. Sweet-smelling lotion was perfectly normal. As was the matching talc. Pulling out a third bottle, she paused. Body oil. So far, so good. Continuing to read the label, her eyes widened as it proclaimed to be edible and highly delectable.

  “Showers are different than in my day,” Ruth said with a sigh.

  “More interesting now,” Miranda observed, handing Brynn another box.

  This one contained another provocative gown. Holding it up so that the women could show their appreciation with hoots and a few embarrassed titters, Brynn glanced up herself. And met Matt’s smoldering gaze.

  For a moment she faltered. Was he imagining her in the gown? Or in his brother’s arms?

  Before she could more than wonder, he disappeared.

  Prodded by the women, Brynn continued opening gifts, mouthing all the appropriate words, but her thoughts were far away—with the man who’d walked into the room and left with her heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brynn tossed the ball for Lancelot to chase, watching him bound over the snow-covered ground as though he was used to walking through several feet of snow every day. The animals were so acclimated to Eagle Point that she knew they’d have to readjust to her apartment when they returned.

  Brynn had given up the idea of complete reclusion. The MacKenzies simply outmaneuvered her, drawing her out, refusing to let her hibernate completely. And since the shower, Brynn had been awash in mixed emotions. Each time she’d brought up the subject of leaving, she’d been swamped with pleas for her to stay. Ruth had cautioned her about Frank’s precarious health; and Matt’s silent, watchful gaze left her completely unsettled.

  As Brynn glanced upward, the ski lift cycled again. Last-minute checks were all that was left before the season opened. The phone lines were jammed and everyone had been pressed into taking reservation duty. Some were new reservations, some were changes. People anxious to hit the famous powder. When Brynn had left the main building, she’d spotted Ruth in the office taking the switchboard’s helm.

  While Thanksgiving was a special holiday for all of America, it held exceptional significance for ski resorts. With full bookings and record snowfall, Eagle Point was particularly thankful.

  Seeing Andy across the way chasing the dog, Brynn frowned. Lancelot still didn’t openly accept everyone. The only person other than Brynn that he’d completely accepted was Matt. For him, the dog would roll over on his back, exposing his vulnerable belly in the ultimate gesture of trust. And Matt, with his easy, consistent ways, had continued to hold that trust.

  Lancelot loped toward her, Andy following close behind. As the boy thundered to a stop, Brynn caught his arms, preventing a skid. “Whoa! You’ll take the knees out of those new jeans and your mom won’t be happy.”

  Unconcerned, Andy reached over to pat the dog. “He won’t ever let me catch him.”

  Brynn gentled her voice, yet her concern crept through. “I’ve tried to explain about Lancelot, how he came from an abusive home. It’s hard to understand how people can be cruel to animals, but sometimes they are. And because he was mistreated, it’s hard for him to trust people.”

  “He trusts you,” Andy replied.

  “That’s because he’s lived me with for quite a while now. He knows what to expect from me.”

  “But he hasn’t known Matt that long and he likes him.”

  “True,” Brynn agreed, equally puzzled. “But Lancelot just seems to know that Matt won’t hurt him. And that’s surprising, because it was a man who was unkind to him, so Lancelot never likes men.”

  “Maybe he can tell that Matt was going to be a vet.”

  “A vet?” Brynn echoed in utter surprise.

  “Yeah. Long time ago. He had to decide between running Eagle Point and being a vet. Mom said he used to fill the lodge with stray animals till she thought they were going to have their own animal hospital.”

  So that was it. “Really?”

  “Yeah. He even hid elk in the sleigh barn so they wouldn’t get shot during hunting season.” Andy’s expression turned fierce. “It wasn’t dopey. Just ‘cause some people like to shoot ’em doesn’t mean everybody has to.”

  Touched both by Andy’s devotion to his brother and her discovery of Matt’s soft spot for animals, she draped an arm around the child’s shoulders. “Of course not. I wish no one ever had to shoot another deer or elk or moose. I’d like to see the woods filled with wild creatures.”

  Andy looked undecided, not certain whether she was simply humoring him. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. That’s why I bring home the animals nobody else will have. I guess I hide my own elk in a way. No one wanted a dog that growled at everyone who tried to pet him...or a cat that was going blind.... Or a bird with...well, not always the nicest things to say. And if I hadn’t taken them home...”

  “They’d shoot ’em?” Andy questioned, horrified.

  “Not exactly. But I’m afraid you’ve got the idea. So, you see, I believe in protecting creatures that can’t protect themselves.”

  “Just like Matt.”

  She ruffled his hair. “Yeah. Just like Matt.”

  “Good.” His brows grew together in obvious thought. “’Cause we’re family now and we should think good stuff about each other.”

  That hitch was finding a permanent place in her heart. “You’re right about that.”

  “Is your other family like that, too?”

  Brynn’s eyes flickered shut as she thought about her selfabsorbed mother. Always chasing an elusive piece of happiness—and never finding it. “Not exactly,” she answered briefly. “But I always think of Stephanie as part of my family.”

  “Yeah,” Andy replied, understanding dawning. Then his brightness dimmed. “But she’s acting awful goopy lately.”

  “‘Goopy’?”

  “Yeah. She used to be really cool, but now she’s all goony over this guy. Before, she would’ve done something really awesome to him, but now she’s acting all nice.” His intonation indicated “nice” was the worst possible description for his favorite comic character.

  “She really seems that different?” Brynn asked, appalled at what was dawning on her.

  “I’m not even sure she’s Stephanie anymore,” he replied, as guileless as he was tactless. “It never used to be a girls’ comic strip, but now it is.”

  That term needed no translation. As her own feelings had changed, apparently she’d put Stephanie through a metamorphosis of her own. And now she’d spilled out her own feelings for the entire comic-reading world to see.

  Cocky, fearless Stephanie had fallen in love—sweetly and with all her heart. Brynn had created a carbon copy of herself—a woman never before touched by love, charmed by her new prince and totally captivated by him.

  And acting completely out of character.

  Brynn’s lips firmed into a grim line. Face it, she told herself. You’ve given Stephanie a personality transplant.

  Unable to prevent it, Brynn groaned aloud about the consequences of her own transparent feelings.

  “You okay?” Andy questioned. “You don’t have a stomachache or something, do you?”

  “No. Just a headache thinking about all the work I have to do.”

  “More dead stuff?”

  “Deadlines,” she corrected, a touch of humor returning.

  He shrugged. “You coming out of your room this time?”

  Brynn withheld her groan this time. “Sure.”

  “Cool. I gotta go inside. I have to stuff envelopes.”

  Even Andy and Heather had been drafted into service. “See you later, then.”

  Andy reached down to give Lancelot one more pat. “After he gets to know me better, he’ll trust me, too.”

  With that he was running through the snow, leaving a powdery trail in the crisp air. Brynn knew her creative block bad just been smashed open. It was time she got Stephanie back on track. It was a wonder
other readers and her publisher hadn’t complained. Stephanie had to regain her edge and return to her wacky, tortuous self.

  An image of her own leaf-jumping escapade came to mind. With a few twists, Brynn could take that episode and turn it completely to Stephanie’s advantage. And restore the star of her strip as the independent woman she was, rather than a transparent carbon copy of herself.

  Glancing toward the lodge, Brynn watched Andy disappear, realizing in that moment there could be no more time for Andy to bond with Lancelot, or for her to continue accepting the MacKenzies’ hospitality. Andy had opened her eyes. If even her comic strip had dramatically and visibly altered, it was finally time to do what she should have done long ago.

  And with Thanksgiving only a few weeks away, Brynn needed to be with her own mother—to prove to herself that she didn’t need to “borrow” someone else’s family.

  And Thanksgiving would be the perfect break. The MacKenzies would have to understand that she should be with her own family for the holiday. With the excitement and rush of the start of the season, her departure wouldn’t be as traumatic. The family would be too caught up in attending to the surge of guests. It would be difficult to bid them goodbye. But if she put it off any longer, it would be unbearable.

  BRYNN WIPED HER perspiring palms against the jeans she now wore with ease. Collecting her courage she dialed the phone, her never completely quenchable optimism in hand, along with a great deal of need. While she and her mother didn’t make it a habit to celebrate holidays together—mat simply wasn’t in Charlene Magee’s game plan—Brynn needed her mother now. Needed to know that when she walked away from the MacKenzies she would still have someone to reach out to—someone who would care about her.

  “Mom!” Brynn spoke in a rush, glad to hear the familiar voice.

  “Brynn?”

  Great deductive powers, Brynn couldn’t help thinking, since her mother had only one child. “Yes, Mom. It’s me.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  Brynn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “No, Mom. But Thanksgiving’s just around the corner. I thought we could spend it together. It’s not like we have a whole lot of family to gather, but we could still roast a mean turkey and I have Grandma Magee’s recipe for Irish whiskey cake—I know how you love it—”

  “Brynn.”

  The tone alone stopped her flow of words. And she waited.

  “I...I didn’t expect you to call about Thanksgiving. You’ve been so caught up yourself, lately. And actually... Well, I’ve made plans to take a ski vacation....”

  The irony wasn’t lost on Brynn.

  “Of course, I’m planning to go to the eastern slopes,” Charlene continued.

  Of course. Especially since she had a daughter in the western Rockies only minutes from the country’s finest ski resorts. But she couldn’t give up. Not yet. “I could meet you, Mom.”

  “Well...Brynn, the truth is I’ve met someone new.”

  Brynn had lost count of all the “someone news” her mother had met over the years.

  “And Brynn...it would be hard to explain a daughter your age.”

  “How old is he?”

  Charlene stalled, then finally sighed. “Twenty-eight, okay? But he thinks I’m ten years younger than I am, which makes our age difference just a small gap instead of a glaring gorge. But if you show up, he’ll know I can’t have a daughter your age and be—”

  “Mom. It’s okay.” Brynn clutched the phone a little closer, wishing for the zillionth time that she had the storybook family she’d always dreamed of. “It’s last-minute, anyway. Flights would be difficult to get—”

  “Impossible,” her mother interrupted, hope singing through the phone lines.

  That same hope killed Brynn’s. “Right. And what do we know about cooking turkeys?”

  “Best left to the experts,” Charlene agreed with relief. “What else are chefs and restaurants for?”

  Cold, lonely holidays. But Brynn didn’t share that with her mother. “Exactly. Maybe...maybe I’ll try skiing myself this year.”

  “Well, you’re in the right place for it.”

  A tear squeezed past Brynn’s tightly closed eyelids, despite her intention not to cry. If only her mother knew. Or cared. “And I have a ton of work to do. In fact, I’d better go and get on it. Deadlines.”

  “Of course. We’ll talk again. When all this mad rush of holidays is over.”

  Realizing her mother had just dismissed Christmas along with Thanksgiving, Brynn managed to say goodbye, her hands shaking as she gave in to the tears she couldn’t hold back any longer.

  Downstairs, Ruth’s hands were shaking as well as she hung up the switchboard master line, having overheard Brynn’s conversation. Initially, she’d just wanted to break in on the call to tell Brynn that her publisher was holding on another line. Hearing Brynn speaking to her mother about Thanksgiving, Ruth decided it would be best not to interrupt and was about to click off when she heard Charlene’s excuse for not spending the holiday with her daughter. Knowing she was shamelessly eavesdropping, she couldn’t stop, worried about the girl who had grown so dear to their family.

  And now shock battled with a need to protect. How could any mother be so callous? Especially to a girl as sensitive as Brynn? Mindful of everyone’s feelings, considerate to a fault, it was hard to believe she came from a mother who possessed neither quality.

  Ruth knew she had to convince Brynn that she was needed here at Eagle Point for the holiday. Otherwise, she suspected that Brynn might escape to lick her wounds, unable to deal with such a family-oriented holiday without any family of her own.

  As she worried about Brynn, Ruth also thought about Frank’s faulty health—the effect her departure would have on him. This past week he’d looked paler. His sleep was uneven, his appetite all but nonexistent. With no real news of Gregory, his spirits were fading. With all the fierce instincts of motherhood, Ruth believed her firstborn was alive, that she would know in an instant if her son had been taken from her. Matt had flown again to Washington, but he had returned frustrated, feeling he hadn’t accomplished anything that would help Gregory. Still, Ruth believed.

  But Frank had lost two brothers in the Vietnam war—brothers he’d also fiercely believed would return, but not in caskets. It was more difficult for him to cling to hope. And Brynn was their only tangible link with Gregory. If she fled home to Salt Lake, Ruth feared Frank’s reaction.

  She also feared how Brynn would deal with being alone. Despite her apparently cold mother, Ruth had never seen anyone who needed and treasured the familial connection more than Brynn.

  For both their sakes, Ruth had to keep her family together. Frank and Brynn deserved that much. Remembering Charlene Magee’s thoughtless words, Ruth knew Brynn deserved far more. And while she was at Eagle Point, she was going to get it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brynn stared around the room that had become her own. Then her gaze rested on the half-filled suitcase. She wished she could pack away the memories and feelings she’d gathered here as easily. Although it was after ten in the evening, she was neither sleepy nor inclined to finish her packing.

  Restless, she decided to take a break, knowing she could find cocoa or cider in the huge kitchens. Large enough to handle banquets, yet filled with the cozy comforts of home, the kitchen was always a welcoming place.

  At first Brynn had thought it was odd that the family shared the kitchen with guests. It had seemed so impersonal. Now she appreciated the diversity. Not many people’s homes were stocked with fresh out-of-season fruit, gourmet meats and cheese, caviar, French pastries, tortes, and fresh seafood. She could nibble on shrimp salad or an exquisite napoleon. And she could also opt for pretzels and cocoa.

  Pushing on the swing door at the rear of the kitchen, she was surprised when it didn’t move. Since she knew it didn’t have a lock, she pushed again.

  A muffled but amused voice spoke through the thick wood. “One of us had better stop pu
shing or we’re never going anywhere.”

  “Matt?” Dropping her hand, she stood back.

  “Brynn?”

  She waited. When the door didn’t move, she stepped forward, then stepped back as quickly. She didn’t particularly want the door to crash into her face.

  Amusement doubled in Matt’s voice. “And if we both stand here staring at the door, waiting for it to move, we won’t get anywhere, either.”

  Despite her troubled mood, Brynn’s lips quirked upward.

  “Ladies first,” he urged.

  Cautiously she pushed on the door, poking her head inside. “I didn’t mean to create an impasse. I just wanted some cocoa.”

  “Having trouble getting to sleep?”

  She shrugged. “Not exactly. Just restless, I guess.”

  He met her roving eyes. “I have a better antidote.”

  Seeing his eyes darken, she felt the sudden, insistent thudding in her chest. “Doing what?”

  “A sleigh ride. There’s a full moon. And the horses are nipping at the bit to get out. And in a few weeks when the season opens, the sleighs will be full every night.”

  The idea appealed to her. More than appealed to her. Because when those sleighs were full she wouldn’t be at Eagle Point any longer. “I’d like that.” She met his warm gaze, his lion-colored eyes. “A lot.”

  For several long seconds neither of them moved. Before the moment could go further than either of them could live with, Matt stepped back. “I’ll get the sleigh ready while you grab a coat. It’s cold out.”

  She tore her gaze away. “Right.” Even though she suspected that she wouldn’t feel an arctic blast at that moment, Brynn gathered her jacket, scarf, and hat.

  Once outside, Matt met her at the porch, taking her arm and leading her to the horsedrawn sleigh. Matt had chosen one of the smaller sleighs, rather than one that could accommodate a group, Brynn noticed. And it was an old-fashioned delight. Long silvery runners, deeply burnished carved wood, and a leather seat with only enough room for two passengers. It was charming...and intimate.