Claiming the Maverick's Heart

by Holt,Debra

  “So what’s the verdict?” Clairee needed to hear the words.

  “It’s his heart.” He raised his palm and hastened to add, “Nothing that a little ‘roto-rooter’ work can’t fix. All those bad habits and that good country cookin’ he’s been eating for the last few decades have caught up with him. We’ll get him into surgery, and Doctor Reeves and his team will take care of the blockage we found. This was a warning shot, meant to get his attention. We’ve caught it, and we can fix it. The rest will be up to him. You two will have to make some lifestyle adjustments. We’ll go over all that later. In the meantime, we’re prepping him, and you can go in and see him for a few minutes while they finish up. In the long run, he’s going to need to learn to take things easier, change his diet, and be a lot calmer. He’s a man in his late sixties, not some cowboy in his twenties.”

  “Well, we better keep him knocked out then.” Trace’s voice chimed in at that point.

  Macy’s head shot up. Trace stood a couple feet away, hat in hand at his side. His other hand was hooked in his belt, and a half smile lit his face.

  “Trace! It’s about time I get to see you. You owe me a hug.” Clairee stepped away from Macy and moved to the man. Trace’s arm went around her in a gentle hug as Clairee went on tiptoe to plant a kiss on the cheek with its five o’clock scruff. Macy felt slighted, as if Clairee’s allegiance was in doubt. She realized the reaction was childish, and she didn’t want to examine too closely the ridiculous feeling that suddenly assailed her as she almost envied Clairee her place within that strong arm. Don’t be foolish.

  “Welcome home, Trace. I haven’t seen you in my emergency room in quite a while.” Doc added a handshake to his words of welcome. “Not since you got stomped on by that bronc. Seems I remember you were the one on a gurney, and this young lady was crying her eyes out with worry over you.”

  Macy felt warmth growing in her own cheeks … or was it exceedingly warm in the room?

  “I doubt she’d be crying if that happened right now.” Trace spoke in a soft drawl, a hint of amusement in the gaze turned on her, as he stepped in to smooth the gap.

  Was he baiting her? The man was vile! Macy wouldn’t have much tongue left if she had to keep biting it to hold in the words she wanted to spew at him. Luckily, Clairee brought their attention back around.

  “This time Jeb’s going to have to listen to some common sense. I’ll make sure he settles down and does what he’s told. The man is supposed to walk me down that aisle again before the end of this month, and he isn’t getting out of it.” Her gaze fell on Macy, and an almost stricken look clouded her usually happy eyes. “Oh dear! He’ll be fit to be tied that he can’t be there for you at the ranch, honey. What’ll you do? Maybe we can find a fellow or two from one of the local ranches who might come—”

  “Don’t worry yourself about that, Clairee. Macy and I’ve made an arrangement. I’ll be helping out in Jeb’s place till he gets to feeling like himself again. Then he and Macy can decide what happens from there. You and Jeb don’t need to worry about anything except getting him back on his feet and down that aisle.” Trace’s steady gaze met Macy’s shocked one. The message he sent her was loud and clear: he wanted to alleviate the extra worry from the woman’s shoulders and from Jeb’s. But by doing so, he had placed Macy smack-dab in the hot seat. If he thought he would make her out to be the bad guy, he had another think coming. She could play the game too.

  “That’s right, Clairee.” She gave the waiting woman a smile and hugged her shoulders. “You and Jeb don’t have to worry about me and the ranch. Trace has nothing else to keep him busy during his visit here. I’ll tell him exactly what he needs to do.”

  Trace’s gaze narrowed at Macy, then returned with a warmer glow to the woman beside her.

  “If you’re both sure. It does seem like a real godsend you came back when you did—just in time to be here for Macy when she needed someone.” Clairee gave them both a genuine smile of relief.

  Macy again held her tongue in check. She had no intention of causing additional stress for Clairee, but a time of reckoning was closing in fast with Trace and his high-handedness.

  Ten minutes later, Clairee was allowed back to see her husband. Macy shared another hug with her. “Give him my love, and I’ll check with you in the morning. Call me if you need anything.” Unfortunately, Trace took his leave at the same time. Macy’s smile left her face as soon as they turned the corner and were out of sight of the woman.

  Each step she took down the hallway and then outside the building added to the explosive frustration growing within her body. She had never felt so angry. The man behind her had overstepped big time, daring to speak up about plans he had made and how he would be helping her out. Not one thought to asking her first. Or any thought that maybe he wasn’t welcome to even be at the hospital!

  Trace almost ran into her when she suddenly stopped before reaching her truck. She whirled to face him, hands clenched at her sides, sparks flying from her blue eyes.

  “What the blazes were you trying to pull back there with Clairee?” The words came out through gritted teeth. “If you think you can play your little games and put me in the middle and make me out to be the bad guy, you’d best think again. These are my friends. You gave up any right to them when you left ten years ago. I care about them, and I won’t have you upsetting them. Got that?”

  “I wasn’t pulling anything, and I don’t play games. Since when is there an expiration date on friendship? They’re still my friends, and I care about them, too. No one put you in the middle of anything—this is not about you or me. It’s a genuine offer and solution for the problem of Jeb not being able to handle his ranch duties for you. He’ll be a caged tiger worrying about leaving you in a bind, and Clairee will have double worries about him and about you. I would think your main concern would be to alleviate their worry and see that I’ve offered a positive solution. That is, if you can stop being so selfish for a minute and see straight. This has nothing to do with our personal issues.”

  She raised her palm before she thought. She only reacted. Her hand connected with his jaw, and the loud smack across his cheek shocked both of them. Macy’s eyes widened; disgust at such uncharacteristic behavior filled her being.

  Trace raised a hand to his cheek and slowly shook his head, flexing his jaw. But when he looked at her, his eyes weren’t angry as she expected. They were dark with an emotion that looked an awful lot like a deep well of infinite sadness.

  “I don’t blame you for doing that. I had it coming … that and a whole lot more for what I did to you. You have every right to hate me, and I can understand how my coming back here has probably stirred things for you. Just know one thing, Macy. You can’t hate me half as much as I hate myself for leaving you. If I knew how to undo all the hurt I’ve caused, I would. But we both know there aren’t any words you want to hear from me. At least not right now. Maybe someday, you’ll let me try to tell you why I ran like a coward. The short of it for now is that you always deserved a heck of a lot better than me. And I realized it before it was too late.”

  Macy couldn’t formulate a reply from her riotous thoughts. Instead, she watched as he walked away into the darkening area of the parking lot. The sound of his boots on the gravel echoed in the hollowness of her heart. The same heart that was supposed to be immune to the man. So why did it feel like those old cracks had opened wide and the pain was fresh again? She had never expected to hear him say she deserved better. Or that he hated himself for what he had done. Why now?

  No matter, the bottom line remained the same. He had ripped out her heart and stomped on it, leaving her without a backward glance on what was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives. Not only had he shattered her heart and her self-esteem, but he’d destroyed her trust as well. How did one move past such pain? How did anyone rebuild trust once broken? There were no answers in the quiet parking lot.

  A half hour later, Macy parked her truck between the barn and the hous
e. Her steps were heavy with all the thoughts and feelings that had assailed her on the drive from the hospital. She’d feed the horses, then drop into bed and pray sleep would come quickly. She needed release from this watershed of feelings.

  She stepped into the barn and flicked the switches beside the doorway, illuminating the interior. The horses shuffled in their stalls. Scoop in hand, she ladled feed into an empty bucket. She stepped to the first stall door, and then she stopped. Taking another couple of steps, she moved to the next stall, then continued until she had checked all eight stalls. It was evident each horse had already been fed and settled for the evening. That meant Trace hadn’t simply put away one horse before leaving to follow her to the hospital. He had taken care of all of them for her. He’d probably figured she would return late in the evening and had chosen to make things easier for her. Somehow, that only made her anger rise again. So much confusion. Why was she angry when she should feel grateful? And she didn’t want to feel anything toward him. She wanted—no, she needed to stay mad at the man. That was her best defense.

  Defense against what? The question and answer both scared her, and she walked quickly to the exit, switching off the lights and closing the door behind her. She hurried across the yard and onto the porch. Was there something invisible at her heels? What was she running away from? Or who? Macy stepped through her front door and slammed it shut behind her. She reached back to lock it, as if doing so would make everything on the other side disappear. If only it were that easy.

  All during the night, eyes opened or closed, a tall cowboy moved through her dreams, emerald eyes searching for the heart she tried to hide from him. With a devil’s grin, he mocked her and vowed to claim it again. There was no escaping.

  Chapter 4

  The morning came earlier than usual, or at least that’s how the weight of her eyelids made it seem. After a night of tossing and turning and bad dreams, Macy was slow to rise and even slower to make her way downstairs. She secured her hair in a ponytail and dressed for the day in faded jeans, worn chambray shirt, and her usual work boots. The sky was streaking pink and orange when she left the house, headed for the barn with a covered mug of coffee in her hands. The few sips she had taken of the steaming caffeine managed to keep her eyes open and get her brain into a functioning mode. The first order of business began to form in her mind. As she did the morning chores, she’d need to establish a plan to get through the time that Jeb would be out of commission. She’d need to find some reliable help, but that would be hard to do, given the season. Most available folk were already working at the surrounding ranches, and the rest had jobs lined up in the tourist areas. That left slim pickings for her. Such was the particular problem on her mind as she stepped inside the barn and came to an abrupt halt. She blinked a couple of times to make certain she wasn’t hallucinating, and in the next instant, she was wide awake.

  “What do you think you’re doing in here?”

  Trace stopped midstride, a bale of hay in his arms. “Good morning to you too, boss lady,” the man replied as he continued to the second stall opening and dumped the bale on the floor of the freshly mucked-out stall. Then, taking a pair of wire cutters from his back pocket, he snipped the baling wire from around it.

  “I’ll ask again; what are you doing in here? I didn’t see your truck outside.” She moved further into the barn, taking in that three of the eight stalls had already been taken care of. He had to have been here for a couple of hours already. Note to self … get an attack dog to keep unwanted people away. “Where are the horses?”

  Straightening from the bale, he shoved the cutters back into his pocket. Pushing his hat back, he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his gray work shirt before he replied. “My truck is parked behind the barn. I didn’t want to wake you by pulling into the yard so early. The horses are in the turnout corrals, of course. You know … that area with the dirt and the fencing in a—”

  “Knock it off,” she ground out. “I didn’t ask you to come here and do any of this. That means you were not invited. Which means you’re trespassing. Get the hint?”

  “I promised Jeb and Clairee I would be here to help in his place, and I keep my word.” He picked up the feed bucket and headed toward the feed bins at the back of the stable.

  “Since when?” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. She would not have a discussion with him on anything to do with the day he’d walked out on her. She jumped ahead. “Look, we’ll call it even. Now you can leave, and I’ll finish up.” Macy set her mug down on top of the barrel next to the first stall and reached for the work gloves in her back pocket, drawing them on as she moved to pick up a rake from the corner.

  “That stubborn streak of yours is as wide as a Mississippi mile. That’s something that’s changed about you. I don’t remember it being like that before.” He came back with a full bucket and dumped it in the feed bin of the stall he’d just completed. He cast a sideways glance at her.

  “Lots of things have changed around here. And none of it’s your business any longer. I said, you can leave now.”

  Trace shut the stall door with a forceful slide of the metal bar into the slot. He turned and leaned against the door, one boot heel propped on the bottom rung, arms crossed over his chest as he studied her. She began raking up the soiled hay in the next stall.

  “Look, I get it that you don’t want me around. I get it that I messed up big time when I left, and you have every right to be angry. But that isn’t going to solve your problem right now. You need help with Jeb being laid up, and I’m here. Look on the positive side of things—”

  “There’s a positive side?” She stopped raking and glared at him across the space.

  “You have an experienced ranch hand—one with lots of horse experience—ready and willing to work in Jeb’s place … with no pay.” He shot her a half grin. “Well, maybe not no pay … we can negotiate on that. Maybe a cup of coffee in the morning, a sandwich at lunch, lemonade, fresh squeezed, in the afternoon. Don’t want to be too demanding.”

  “Why?” She leaned on the end of the rake and studied the cowboy. It took a great deal of willpower to get past the fact he looked much too good with that rock-hard body and bad-boy grin aimed at her. Macy knew better than anyone what happened when she succumbed to his charms. That remembered pain put everything else in perspective. “Why are you doing this? And don’t think me naive enough to believe it’s all for Jeb. The Trace Cartwright I knew always played the odds in his favor.”

  The grin faded from the man’s face. He pushed away from the stall door and straightened, sliding his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I know you don’t have any faith in me or my word anymore. I can’t expect you to trust me or believe what I say, but it’s the truth. I learned a lot while I was gone—mostly about myself. As you said that first day, you grew up. Well … so did I. I know the value of keeping promises, and I promised Jeb and Clairee. I give you my word—I’m only here to honor that commitment. The only way you’ll know I mean what I say is by allowing me to do it. I realize I was a selfish kid when I left like I did. But somewhere along the way, I made some realizations and learned that others’ feelings and needs are as important as mine are. I made mistakes, but I’m here to try my best to make amends. Now, there are some horses that need your attention in the corral. I’ll finish up in here. Okay?”

  Macy’s heart knotted inside her while her brain fought to keep a tight rein on her emotions. It’s a line … don’t fall for it. His gaze was steady on her as if he knew she was at war within herself. The old Trace would have used that sexy smile and whiskey-smooth low voice to get what he wanted from her. This new version simply stated his case and gave her space to render a verdict. The only part of what he said that had a quick solution was the last. There was work to do.

  “Okay. All right. I’m agreeing simply because I have no other choice right now.”

  The day had heated up fast … in more ways than one. Trace shed the work shirt and
draped it on a wooden peg by the loft steps. The air cooled a bit as it hit the heated skin of his chest and back, giving him a small amount of relief. He lifted and moved bales of hay around in the loft to make room for a fresh load scheduled to arrive that afternoon. Getting back into the swing of regular ranch work had him using muscles that hadn’t had a decent workout in months. It felt good, though. It also allowed him to concentrate on things other than the woman outside in the corral.

  For three days, they had worked in relative silence. They’d established a tentative truce and settled into a pattern of sorts. If he had a question he asked it, and she answered in as few words as necessary. He arrived before sunup. She came out of the house shortly after his arrival, with her usual mug of coffee. She’d surprised him on the second day, bringing another mug for him in the morning and lemonade that afternoon. Today, she’d brought him a sandwich, yet she returned to the house for her own lunch. Small steps, but he wouldn’t argue with them. He’d learn to be grateful for small miracles. Things came at their own pace for those who waited for answers to prayer. He’d not been a praying man when he left Cartwright’s Crossing, but God had worked on his heart. Life had a sweeter meaning since he’d made peace with the hurt inside. He also knew, however, that to be truly free, he had to find a way to make peace with Macy. Anything that allowed him to be around Macy and have the opportunity to help her—and at the same time show her he meant every word he’d said about being a changed man—well, that was enough for him, at least for the time being.

  Working closely with Macy on a daily basis wasn’t easy. There were words he wanted to say but didn’t. Smiles and teasing he kept to himself because of how she might react. He had asked her to trust him and judge him by his actions now, not by those of years ago. She hadn’t agreed; yet she hadn’t kicked him off her property … yet.

  He’d insisted he was there because he’d promised Jeb he’d help him out by helping her. And there was truth in that. However, the real reason was he needed to help her. Trace could admit there was a self-serving side to that also. By helping her, he could be close to her again—if only in an armed-truce sort of way. No matter. He would take what he could get.