by Holt,Debra
Macy’s eyes widened as a weird feeling about what was coming enveloped her. Surely not. Please, not tonight.
“I don’t think it’s any secret how I feel about you, Macy. I’ve had a crush on you since junior high. Only I was too shy to ever do anything about it. Then along came Trace and, well, I thought I didn’t ever stand a chance. You know I have a good business and can take care of a family. My past and my future are right here. My family loves you and so do I. Geez—I’m sorry!” He interrupted himself, and Macy had no idea what was wrong.
“Here I am proposing, and I don’t even have the ring with me. It’s at home. Like I said, I hadn’t planned on doing this now.”
Macy slowly shook her head. Why now? Mike Ross was a good man and a good friend. But a husband … for the rest of her life? She struggled to find an appropriate response. “I don’t know what to say, Mike. This is unexpected, and we haven’t really talked about the future.”
“I know it is, and maybe I should have waited. But I want you to know how I feel. I don’t expect you to answer me right away,” he hastened to add. “I want you to take all the time you need and think about it. It’s a major decision, I know. But I will work hard every day to make you happy and so you won’t regret saying yes. I may not be every woman’s fantasy guy, but I’m there for the long haul. Just think about it, okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured her reply.
“You need to get inside and get some rest. I’ll meet you at the arena tomorrow evening as planned, okay?” She nodded, and he bent and placed a light kiss on her lips, then stepped back. “See you tomorrow, Macy.” He waited for her to open the door and shut it behind her. The sound of his SUV starting and moving away reached her as she leaned against the front door. She didn’t bother to turn on any lights downstairs. Instead, she went straight to her bedroom and sank down on the edge of the bed.
What an evening. A revelation and a proposal. Macy leaned back until she lay crosswise on her bed, her eyes locked on the ceiling above her. Why wasn’t she happy? A good man had just proposed to her. She knew his feelings for her were genuine. He had never made any pretense of how he felt since their first date almost a year ago. They had taken things slow … real slow. Shouldn’t that be a warning sign, though? If they had the passion, the fire of being in love, wouldn’t things have developed more quickly between them? With Trace, it had happened in almost an instant. And look how that ended.
But maybe because it had happened slowly this time, maybe it was the best thing for both of them. Come on, Macy. Try to sound a little more convinced. Turning on her side, she looked at the wall. No answers there, either. Surely she could learn to love Mike with the same intensity that she loved Trace. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy or so quick, but people often found a second love in their lifetime … if they were lucky. But how did you find a second one if you hadn’t left the first one behind? That was the real issue. Balling her pillow with her hands, she half-buried her face in it, trying to shut the door on her jumbled thoughts and praying for mind-numbing peace to come fast.
Two men—one she liked and one she loved. One man loved her and wanted forever with her. Mike Ross wouldn’t leave her waiting at the church. He’d beat her to it. And Trace. He’d apologized to her for not being the man she deserved. He’d left her, but insisted he’d returned a changed man. He wanted her friendship. But one look, one touch from him, and she became that foolish girl again … believing in happily-ever-after and all those things that weren’t real, weren’t tangible. And the things he wasn’t offering this time around. Dreams. In the morning light, dreams always faded. They slipped through one’s fingers like sand. Why would she ever trust Trace again? What would happen the next time the rodeo called him down the road?
No, Macy knew the path she needed to take.
“I’m glad I was able to get back in time to watch at least one of Trace’s rides,” Annie said, reaching for the soft drink she had purchased at the concession counter. “I heard last night was a perfect ride. If he does the same tonight, he’ll walk away with another saddle and buckle. He’ll need to expand that trophy room in his new house. Have you seen the house lately?”
Macy had been content to let Annie carry the conversation since their arrival at the fairgrounds a few minutes earlier. She was trying to stay focused on what she planned to say to Mike later that evening, because he was certain to bring up the proposal before too long. The sooner she gave him her answer, the better it would be for everyone.
“Earth to Macy—where are you?” Annie was staring at her friend.
“Sorry. I was trying to remember if I had locked the kitchen door before I left.” Lame. After all, it wasn’t like she could confide in her friend. She wished she could, sure. But it was a little awkward when her best friend was also Trace’s sister. No, she should keep things to herself a while longer.
“There you are, ladies. And both of you are looking mighty pretty, I might add.” Mike smiled as he approached them through the crowd. Dressed in brown western slacks and a white, button-down western shirt, he looked the part of a well-heeled gentleman rancher. His cream-colored Stetson was pushed back on his forehead.
Macy tried to find a stirring of heat somewhere inside her as she returned his smile and saw the look in his eyes as they fell on her. She wanted to stomp her foot and say how unfair it was that she couldn’t return the feelings he deserved. Why couldn’t he set her blood on fire by the way he smiled at her? Because he isn’t Trace.
“Annie, would you like to join us in our box tonight? We’ve plenty of room,” Mike offered, falling into step beside Macy.
“I’d love to join you, but I want to find Trace before he gets into his competitor mode. I’ll join you guys in time for the start of the first event, okay?”
Annie headed off in one direction, and Mike placed his hand at Macy’s elbow in his usual courteous manner. She wished again she could feel some stirrings of passion toward the kind man. She reminded herself that passion dies out. Gram had often told her that a relationship needed more than passion to make a good marriage last through the years. If only Gram were here to tell her if what she was about to do was the right thing.
“Before we go up to our seats, can we talk a minute?” Mike slowed, bringing them both to a stop in the pathway behind the bleacher, then pulled her into a small alcove out of the main flow of people.
“Of course.” It wasn’t lost on Macy that it was almost the same spot where Trace had kissed her for good luck the night before. It wasn’t lost on her at all.
His hand moved to take one of hers. “I know I got ahead of myself last night with the proposal and all. But I couldn’t help myself. And I know I said I wanted to give you time to think about it, but …” He paused to reach inside his pocket. When he withdrew his hand, it held a black velvet box. “I remembered to bring the ring this time, and I wanted to give it to you so you could have it while you’re considering your answer.”
Macy looked at the small box he held out to her in the flat palm of his hand. A lead weight formed in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth went dry as cotton. She looked up at the expectant man. “Mike, I—”
“Oh, my heavens … oh, no!” The words brought Macy and Mike’s attention to the couple who had just rounded the corner of the bleacher’s walkway. Annie and Trace. They stood a few feet away, and Annie’s eyes darted from the couple to the ring box and back to Macy. At the same moment, both she and Macy turned to Trace.
Silence reigned for what seemed minutes. Trace’s gaze focused on Macy. The look was dark and shuttered; his jaw was set in a hard line. When he finally spoke, his voice was devoid of emotion. “Looks like we interrupted something important. Excuse me. I have a ride to take.” He turned away from them, and the sound of his spurs on the concrete of the walkway echoed long after he disappeared from view. In fact, the sharp jangle was the only sound that filtered through her mind at that moment. It was the sound of Trace leaving her.
“Yes …” Annie fo
und her voice at that moment also, her eyes fixed on Macy in a mixture of shock and hurt. “Sorry about this. We’ll talk later.” And she was off in the direction her brother had gone.
Macy stood staring at the space where Trace had stood. What a mess things had become in a blink of an eye. She could imagine what it had looked like to Annie and her brother. Looked like? It’s what it was. Mike Ross had presented her with an engagement ring. As long as she lived, she would never forget the look in Trace’s eyes as he looked at her … just before he turned away.
It was done. He hadn’t stayed and fought for her—for them. He wouldn’t bother her again. Macy knew that as certainly as she knew the sun would come up in the morning. She should feel elated. She didn’t. If anything, she wanted to stomp her foot and scream … or simply run after the man and explain what he had seen. But none of that happened. She didn’t move.
“Guess I should have picked another place for us to do this.” Mike turned his attention back to her. “I’m sorry, Macy.”
Macy looked at the man in front of her. She managed a half smile even through the pain in her chest. She reached over and placed her hand around the larger one holding the ring box. Gently, she folded his fingers over the box and held her palm over his closed fist. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Mike. I tried to tell myself that I cared enough for you to agree to become your wife. You’re truly a good man, and there’s no reason why I shouldn’t love you. But I—I …”
He raised his other hand and rested a finger against her lips. A sad smile curved his mouth as he looked at her.
“You don’t love me enough to marry me,” he finished for her. “Up until a minute ago, I thought I was okay with you not loving me like I love you. I told myself I had enough for the both of us and you’d grow to love me. But I guess I knew better … deep inside. Your heart belongs to one person, and it always will. I wish you luck, Macy. You should go find that cowboy. I don’t much feel like watching the rodeo tonight. I’ll see you around.” His fingers caressed her face a moment longer, then he placed a light kiss on her forehead.
Macy didn’t have to speak. He’d said it all for her. She had hurt two men that evening—one who loved her and one who only wanted her. Why couldn’t one man—the right one—be both things? Why couldn’t Trace want her and love her, too? How could she trust him even if he claimed to do both? Yet, he hadn’t claimed anything except that he was sorry. He wanted them to have another chance … at what? There had been no words of marriage this time, only of friendship. Did she even want that? What did she want? And would she have listened if he’d have tried? All she had done time and again was push him away. Had she kept the walls around her heart too high for even him to want to scale them?
The crowd’s cheers brought her from the painful place, but she couldn’t go out and sit there and watch Trace’s ride. She turned and walked in the opposite direction. She cleared the arena area and headed away from the brightly lit midway and its cacophony of sounds. Somewhere there had to be a quiet place where she could sit and figure out the mess that was her life. Right.
She suddenly felt herself jostled by a couple of people heading in the opposite direction. One of them stopped to apologize.
“Sorry about—hey! Miss Macy, were you in the arena? Did you see it happen?” Billie Casper, one of her mentoring kids from church, reached out with a steadying hand on her arm and concern in her features.
“See what happen?”
“Trace got bucked off almost right out of the chute, and the bronc did a pretty mean dance on him before the riders could get to him. The ambulance is—”
Macy didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. She didn’t hear anything. She was on autopilot, her feet flying across the carnival lot and back into the arena. She pushed her way through the milling crowd now hushed out of respect for the injured rider until she found a spot at the railing to squeeze into. All she could see was a group of cowboys gathered in the arena and a gurney and the paramedics, down on the ground. She couldn’t see Trace. Then someone moved and she saw his boots … and his feet weren’t moving.
Oh, God, no … don’t do this. Not now. Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he getting up and doing his swagger and making the crowd scream for more? A scream was building in her own throat, but she was too paralyzed with fear for it to come out.
Suddenly, she heard her name and turned to find Annie, pale as a ghost, moving down the steps. They met in a hard embrace. The fact that this was Trace’s little sister and her best friend and she was scared too … all that served to put the scream away, allowing Macy to focus on someone else. She increased her hold on her friend. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Trace is tough.” She spoke the words aloud with conviction. By assuring Annie, she could assure herself.
“It all happened so fast,” Annie managed against her shoulder between muffled sobs. “Something was off; I could tell. He wasn’t ready. He shouldn’t have come out of the gate.”
“Trace wouldn’t have ridden if he weren’t ready. You know that. He’s always prepared.”
“Not this time. His mind wasn’t—” Annie broke off the rest and raised her head to look at her friend. “Never mind.” She turned toward the arena where they could see movement in the group. The paramedics lifted Trace onto the gurney, strapped him down, and moved quickly to the ambulance. One of the cowboys caught sight of the girls and motioned for security to open the gate. Annie stepped through but hesitated when Macy remained where she stood.
“You go with him, Annie. I’ll call Travis, and then I’ll come to the hospital. Hurry!” Macy pushed her toward the gate. Annie didn’t pause after that. She was off in a flash toward the ambulance. The same cowboy who had motioned for Annie bent over and picked up the battered black hat from the dirt of the arena. Macy’s heart broke at the sight. Then he turned and walked back toward the gate, and she recognized him as a Cartwright ranch hand. He stepped through and approached her. “You may want to hang onto this for him.” He held the hat out to her.
She grasped it and mumbled something she hoped was coherent before she turned away and lost herself in the crowd. Automatically, she headed toward the parking area and her truck. Her fingers dialed the Cartwright ranch, and Mrs. Kelso answered on the first ring. She asked for Travis, but he’d already received a call from an official at the arena and was on his way to the hospital. Macy promised to let her know the minute any report was available on Trace. Once inside the truck, she stopped and sat still as a statue. Then she crushed the hat to her chest as sobs welled up and exploded into the silence of the truck. She had tamped them down while Annie needed her, but now they burst free.
Was it her fault he’d been hurt? The look on Annie’s face the moment she had spoken earlier made her think Trace hadn’t had his head in the game … because of what? What he’d seen earlier between her and Mike? Surely not. He focused only on his riding when he got on the back of a bronc. He had his routine and—
There had been no kiss for luck. The tradition had been broken. Don’t be silly. He rode lots over the years he’d been away, and she hadn’t been there to kiss him good luck.
No. He wouldn’t have let that throw him off. Nor would he have let something like her being engaged do it either. It was a freak accident. Just like lots of accidents that happen during rodeos all the time. She would concentrate on Annie, who needed her support. Nothing else but that and Trace being okay … that was all that mattered. She threw the truck in gear and headed toward the hospital on the other side of town. An urgent prayer played repeatedly in her head as she drove.
Please let Trace be okay. Please, please don’t take him away.
Chapter 13
Macy hated the smell of hospitals. She knew it had to be so with the sterile environment and all, but still, she hated it. They were always cold too, and the sounds of the machines and the whispers all made her wish to be elsewhere. Maybe it was doubly hard because it was Trace on a gurney in the emergency room—again—and that ma
de it too personal for her.
She walked down the hallway, fear knotting in her stomach. What if it were really bad? What if something awful was waiting for her? A sudden desire to turn and run from the building overtook her, but she caught sight of Annie and Travis, and she stomped the fear down again. She was here for them, not herself. Annie caught sight of her and relief spread over her features. She met Macy halfway, and they shared another hug.
“Any news?” Macy whispered, afraid of the answer.
“Nothing yet. He’s in X-ray right now, and they’re doing a scan and all sorts of things. He’s still out. They kicked me out of the room. Can you believe that?”
“Well, you might be an animal doctor and all, but you’re also his family, and I’m sure that’s a big part of the reason. You’d do the same if it was someone else and you were in charge.”
“I hate it when you’re so right,” Annie said, a sad attempt at a grin falling short. “Travis said the same thing.”
“There you go—great minds thinking alike.” Macy forced a smile that she hoped looked a lot more confident than she felt.
They joined Travis then, and soon Clairee and Jeb and a few others arrived to fill the waiting room. The clock on the wall moved slowly. People took turns going to the vending machines for drinks that were tasteless and soon left sitting half empty. Annie gave up on the hard plastic chairs and started pacing the hall. Travis sat stoically in a chair across from Macy. He didn’t join in the conversation much but kept his eyes trained on the doors leading to the ER. They might have their differences and could fight like cats and dogs sometimes, but Macy knew the two brothers had a deep and abiding respect and love for each other. She had often looked at the Cartwright family over the years and envied them. Not for their obvious wealth and material things, but because they had each other and no matter what—they stood their ground together.
She’d often wished for siblings of her own. Losing her parents when she was twelve had left her with only her grandmother. After Gram left, there had been no one else. It would have made things easier at times to have someone else to share things with. Marrying Trace would have brought her into a family. She would have had someone there to care and to share things with. Thinking about that made her infinitely sadder.