by Holt,Debra
Reaching behind her, he took his hat from the hook on the wall. He put it on his head, then adjusted the angle with a single finger. Finally, he folded his arms across his chest. “What’s that?” Trace eyed his sister, fairly sure what was coming next. It was more or less the general consensus of what people expected to have happen sooner or later. Only they were in for a surprise when he proved them wrong.
“Don’t break her heart again. If you aren’t in it for a lifetime this go around—leave her alone. Get out of Cartwright’s Crossing and don’t come back for a very long time. She might think she’s tough now and can handle things differently, but you have the power to crush her again if you aren’t careful. And then I truly would have to hunt you down and make you very sorry.”
His gaze softened on her. “No one wants to protect her more than I do. I can promise you that. There’s no need to worry. I hear your message loud and clear, little sister.”
“Well, don’t forget it.” She gave him a quick hug. “I’m off, but I’ve got my eye on you, mister. Just remember that.”
Was Annie right? He’d been replaying her words in his mind since she’d left him yesterday in the kitchen. What if she was? Was it possible? Did a foundation remain under all the mess he had made? If it did, could they build upon it? Would Macy even consider the possibility? How could he approach her about it? Words hadn’t worked too well so far. And she’d been keeping a clear distance between them since their discussion on the porch. Trace cast a glance skyward. Sure could use some wisdom right about now, God. Where do I go from here?
He headed his truck toward town, those thoughts running through his brain. He topped a rise in the two-lane blacktop and caught sight of a familiar blue pickup pulled to the side of the road, its hood open. Perfect timing? Divine intervention? Slowing his speed, he pulled in behind the truck and parked. As he got out of his vehicle, Macy stepped into view from the front of hers. Did he detect a slight grimace as she recognized the person stopping to lend a hand? What would he have to do to ever be favored with one of her incredible smiles again? Leave town. That wasn’t the answer he wanted. He’d told Annie he wasn’t a quitter. Time to prove it.
“What’s wrong?”
Great. Just my luck. The one person in the whole county I don’t want to see. “I don’t know. It coughed a few times after topping the last hill and then died on me. I’ve called for a wrecker. It should be here soon,” Macy responded, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Thank heavens, she had grabbed her sunglasses. It helped to have a buffer whenever Trace was around. On a bad day, the sight of the long-legged, good-looking cowboy with his sexy swagger could elevate her blood pressure and cause breathing problems. Unfortunately, this was a good day, and that amped the attraction to the top of the meter.
“You were obviously heading into town. Can I give you a ride? Or drop you off back at the ranch?”
It was a benign enough offer. It was also the most they’d spoken to each other in a few days. Seemed like they had said all there was to say at her back door. She’d spent a good deal of time trying to understand and correlate the man he’d been with the man who was standing before her now. What he’d told her about his past made sense for who he seemed to be now, but she had never been more confused. She had tried to keep him contained to the tidy box she’d plunked him in when he first returned, but he kept breaking free of it. He wasn’t the same Trace who’d left; she could see shades of that more each time they were together. It only made the situation more complicated. She’d been dreading seeing him since and had avoided it as long as possible. Thanks, truck … I should have traded you when I had the chance.
She realized he was still waiting for her response. Her truck would be going to Danny’s Garage on the far side of town, away from where her business was. Trace could drop her in town, and she could get started on her list, then pick up her truck, hopefully, and still make the deliveries. It made sense. But was it wise?
“Tough decision?”
“You might say that. I’m trying to decide what’s most important this morning. I do need to get some errands done for the people who are counting on me.” Saying it aloud settled the issue. “Actually, if you could drop me at the pharmacy, that would be very helpful. If you’re certain it wouldn’t interrupt your day.”
“No problem with that. What are neighbors for?”
The wrecker arrived less than five minutes later, and they left while the truck was being loaded. Macy looked around the inside of Trace’s truck. It was the newest on the market. Deep leather seats, wood trim, lots of bells and whistles.
“Nice truck.”
He kept his attention on the road, but a smile creased his mouth. Aviator shades covered his eyes; a plus as far as she was concerned. His eyes had always had a way … a single look from him could short-circuit her common sense. “Thanks. Glad it meets with your approval. Old Jessie finally earned retirement about four months ago. She served me well though, and I miss her.”
“You had that truck all this time?” She couldn’t believe it. Trace’s dad had given him the already used truck when he turned sixteen—the last present from his dad before his death. Trace and his truck were inseparable. That bright red truck had been a mainstay on the streets of Cartwright’s Crossing. Even as a teen, the sight of it flying down the road past their ranch fences would bring a wistful flutter to her stomach. Silly girl stuff. But then, after that momentous meeting at the rodeo when Trace finally realized she’d grown up, they’d ridden many a mile together in it. She had felt so important sitting next to Trace, wearing his ring, their future ahead of them … don’t go there, Macy. She’d already warned her heart and mind to stop taking her down such dangerous paths. They weren’t listening too well.
Trace’s voice interrupted her reverie. “I couldn’t part with her. Too many good memories.” The smile was slow, and she immediately knew he was thinking the same thoughts she had just put a squelch on. Long summer evenings under the stars and a blanket spread in the back. Cold winter nights inside the cab with the windows steamed over. Please change the subject.
“I hear this model gets good gas mileage.” Seriously? The slight cough from Trace sounded more like a quick attempt to stifle a laugh. Now her cheeks felt full-blown red.
“Yep—real good. Do you have other stops to make besides the pharmacy?”
It took a moment to get her mind back on track and grab for the lifeline he had tossed. “A few. I can manage most of them just fine by walking. Hopefully, my truck will be ready by the time I am. Danny’s pretty good about getting my repairs done quickly.”
“You have a lot of errands? I thought I picked up most of the items for the ranch earlier this week. Did I miss something?”
“No, you didn’t miss anything. I do a few things each week for some folks who can’t get around that easily any longer. They’re mostly Gram’s friends. I try to help them out each week.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” His response brought a quick glance from her.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s in your nature to do something like that for others. Annie always talked about how big-hearted you were, way before I ever paid attention to you. You were always the one to lend a hand—helping with homework or making stuff for a bake sale or volunteering to pet sit when people went out of town. I saw it after we got together, too. Everyone always knew Macy Donovan could be counted on.”
“It’s being a good neighbor, as you said earlier. Guess people don’t do that in the big cities you’re used to now. Not much has changed around here—thank goodness.”
“I’m glad things haven’t changed that much. A couple things have, but I guess that’s to be expected. I haven’t had much opportunity yet to get reacquainted with people in town. Helping you out today in your errands might be a good chance for me to do that. Then we can pick up your truck on the way back to the ranch. That is, if being seen with me won’t cause any problems for you.”
“Problem
s for me? What sort of problems could this cause?”
“Well, maybe some of the men you date might get the wrong idea. Or the old gossips might latch on to it. Neither of those things would bother me, but it’s your decision. You were worried about it with Jeb and Clairee’s wedding.”
“Well, it’s my decision, and this isn’t social. The men I date are more secure than to be bothered about who I might be seen with, and I stopped paying attention to the gossips a long time ago … or at least I try to do so. Besides, it’s one thing to be seen going out and doing something sociable that might look like a date. Helping with the errands—that’s different.”
“Good. Then we’ll get busy with that list of yours.” A car pulled out of a parking place in front of the pharmacy as they rounded the corner, and Trace pulled in and cut the engine. Macy didn’t expect him to open her door for her, and she was out of the truck quickly. Trace caught up with her in time to push the glass door open for her to step through. She mumbled a perfunctory thanks as she sailed past and headed toward the counter at the back of the store.
“Oh, hi, Macy. I’ve got the meds ready for…” Emily’s voice trailed off as her eyes widened on the man standing next to Macy at the counter.
“Hi, Emily. It’s good to see you. How’s Monty?” Trace flashed a smile at the woman.
“Fine.” The one-word reply managed to bring the woman back to the present. “It’s good to see you too, Trace.”
“They have an eight-year-old son, now. His name is Davy,” Macy prompted, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
“Really?” Trace’s smile widened into a grin at that point. “That’s great. I’m sure you’re both proud parents.”
“Thanks, we are indeed.” The pharmacist smiled in return, and the atmosphere eased a bit. “Monty’s doing well in the construction business.”
“What sort of construction?” Trace asked with a tone of genuine interest.
“He specializes in stonework … patios, fireplaces, fencing … all sorts of cut-stone construction.”
“Well, I’d like to give him a call. Maybe see what he would bid on some work I need done on my house.”
“I know he’d like to talk with you about that. I’ve got one of his cards here on my desk.” She reached over and rifled through some papers, finally coming up with a card to hand to him. “I heard you were building a place. So you plan on staying around for a while?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do,” he replied. “At least for the next fifty or sixty years,” Trace finished off with another grin, sliding the card into his shirt pocket.
“Thanks for the meds.” Macy spoke up, jolting the woman back to the matter at hand.
“Oh, right.” They’re all here. She slid the small paper bags across the counter.
“Tell Monty and Davy hi for me. See you next week.”
Trace touched a fingertip to the brim of his Stetson. “Same goes for me. See you later, Emily.”
“Bye, Macy. You too, Trace … don’t be a stranger.”
Soon, they were back in the truck. “Well, that went well, I think. She didn’t go totally speechless,” Trace observed.
Macy cast him a look and caught the twinkle in his green eyes as he put the truck in reverse. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He threw her a glance with a full-blown grin. “Of course I’m enjoying this. Although probably not for the reason you’re thinking.” Trace changed the topic in a blink of an eye. “I’m hungry. I skipped breakfast this morning. Do we have time in our schedule to grab something to eat?”
Macy wanted to say no, but that wasn’t the case. Besides, she was a bit hungry too.
“I think we can spare some time.”
Macy shouldn’t have been surprised at his choice of restaurant, although the Burger Barn would have been faster and not as public. The Iron Skillet had been a mainstay in Cartwright’s Crossing for almost forty years. Ray and Ozelle Westmoreland had opened the mom-and-pop diner with just eight tables and a counter with ten barstools. The food was country, down-home good, and that kept them in business. Over the years they had grown, building on another dining room, expanding counter space, and adding a bar area. The décor was still homey and the food still mouthwatering … and it had been her and Trace’s favorite place. It was where Trace had taken her for their first date, and burgers and fries on Friday night had become their routine. They’d held their rehearsal dinner in the private dining room—and that was the last time they had been together as an engaged couple.
All of that came rushing back at Macy as they crossed the room and found an empty booth in the corner. She was thankful the one that used to be theirs was occupied. That would have been too much.
“Well, look who decided to get some sense in his head and come back home.” The voice belonged to Ozelle, still feisty at age seventy. Trace gathered her up in a big, laughing, bear hug. The change in the man caught Macy off guard. It was like watching a chameleon of sorts. Snippets of the old Trace one moment, and then the new version would take over the next. It was confusing … but not unpleasant. Yet, she didn’t like feeling so ambivalent.
“I haven’t had any good, homemade chili since I last ate yours. I hope you have some of your enchiladas to go with it.”
“You sit yourself down, and I’ll get you a platter going. It’s like old times, seeing you two in here—together.” She sent a grin in Macy’s direction, and there was a twinkle in her lively eyes.
The woman couldn’t resist. Macy kept the same smile on her face that she’d walked in the door with. “I’ll have the grilled chicken salad with ranch on the side.”
Once Ozelle left them alone, Trace settled against the cushioned seat, taking in the rest of the room. He exchanged nods and smiles with a good number of the people having lunch around them, then turned his attention to Macy.
He didn’t seem to notice the curious stares and covert glances that continued in their direction—either that or he chose to ignore them. Macy wished she had that ability. She fought to keep down the memories of those days when the looks and sympathetic words had almost been too much for her to endure. Then, she’d wished to be like a turtle, to be able to scoot her head and whole body into a hard shell when the pain got to be too much. Instead, she’d endured to the point of wanting to run screaming far away from the town—except Gram hadn’t raised her to be a quitter.
“This place hasn’t changed at all since the last time I was in here. Hope the food has stayed the same too.”
“It’s still good.” She reached up to tuck a few errant strands of hair behind her ear. They’d come loose from her usual ponytail. The movement caught Trace’s attention.
“You used to wear your hair down a lot more.”
Because you liked it that way. That was another thought she didn’t need to have. Trace had always loved her long hair, and his fingers had often gotten lost in it. “It’s more practical this way when working with the horses and such. In fact, I might cut it shorter one of these days.”
The food came to their table quickly. Once the waitress made certain they had everything they needed, she left them alone again.
“Why do I have a platter and two side dishes in front of me, and you have only one salad bowl?” Trace looked from his side of the table to hers.
“Guess you’re still a growing boy,” she replied, spearing her fork into a piece of chicken and taking a bite.
“I guess you’re into eating healthy. It can’t be because you’re on a diet kick. You never needed to worry about that—and still don’t.”
The look in his eyes as they fell over her underscored the compliment, and her stomach reacted in response. She should be bothered that he had noticed such a thing … and she was. She wouldn’t dwell on the tiny thrill of secret pleasure mixing with her irritation. Instead, she’d keep her gaze away from his and concentrate on eating without choking.
“I have a couple more stops to make, and then we can check on my truck. I don’t want to kee
p your whole day tied up.”
“You aren’t tying up my day,” he responded between bites of the cheese enchilada on his plate. “I’m enjoying seeing old friends and catching up on all the changes around here. By helping you out, I’m helping me out too. You know, on a hot day like this, that Blue Hole sure would feel good after all these errands. Have you been there recently?”
His switch of subject caught Macy off guard. “Yes, it would feel good. I haven’t been since … well, in a long time. I’m generally too busy.”
“We should check it out one of these days.”
Macy wasn’t about to go there with him. She had too many memories of summer days at that swimming hole. Of course, there was more kissing than swimming most of the time. More memories that should stay buried. She didn’t reply. Instead, she changed the subject.
“I was thinking over what you told me about your friend … David. You took him home and then worked in his place to help his family. What happened to the rodeo circuit?”
“I walked away from it.”
“And you haven’t felt its allure since you did that? It’s not calling to you again?”
“Not a peep.” He leveled a long look across at her. “I made it to the top three times. I had my small fortune in the bank. There wasn’t anything left to prove to anyone on that score. I walked away and haven’t looked back.”
“Do you hear from David and his family?”
“We keep in touch with e-mails and weekly phone calls. I promised him I’ll always be there if needed, especially for his family.”
She wanted to praise him for being such an upstanding friend, but everything she tried to voice sounded too condescending. A simple nod of the head ended that part of the conversation. In silent agreement, they kept the talk on generalities the rest of the meal. Trace asked about former classmates, and she brought him up to date on who was married and who had moved away. Toward the end of the meal, Trace became quiet, a thoughtful expression on his face. He seemed to be wrestling with something on his mind. Then his countenance eased as if he’d made a decision.