by Holt,Debra
Macy shook her head as she began to uncinch the saddle. “What job might that be?”
“I’m helping oversee the work on Trace’s house. He has crews working full speed on the place now, and he needs someone to be there when he can’t. It’s sure going to be a fine place once he gets it done. Shouldn’t be too much longer either. He can probably move in by the end of next week, and then the outside work on the barns and corrals can pick up speed. You know, he’s even added an indoor arena for some reason.”
“That’s nice.” The terse reply was the extent of what she could muster. Although the news about an arena did give her pause. Was he planning to get into horse training? Just great. More Cartwright hubris. Good luck to him if he was thinking about competing with her in that area.
Jeb moved on to another subject, and she breathed easier. He took his leave a few minutes later, and she led the horse into the barn after his cool down.
Taking the brush from the tack box, she began brushing his coat. It was something she had done hundreds of times, and she moved through it almost on autopilot. The barn was quiet at the end of the day. The setting sun cast a golden light through the open doorway, illuminating the tiny dust particles floating through the air. Pixie dust, Gram used to call it. The stillness in the barn lulled Macy into reverie, and when the voice came from behind her, she literally jumped in surprise.
“Guess your cell phone’s stopped working?”
She looked over her shoulder to find Trace leaning against the open stall door. He looked way too sexy for a man on the mend from an accident—long legs and slim hips in snug jeans, dark blue western shirt emphasizing broad shoulders. His hat was set at its usual rakish angle. He even had the audacity to look at her with that blasted gleam that too often made her forget what she was doing or saying. She drew her gaze away from his and went back to brushing.
“My cell phone works fine.”
“Are you sure about that? I know I’ve called a dozen or more times and left that many voice messages. Since you haven’t returned any of those calls, I figure it must not be working properly. Surely you aren’t ignoring me.”
She stopped what she was doing to toss him a look. “Drop it, Trace. There isn’t anything more for us to talk about. So why are you here now?”
He hooked his fingers in the belt at his waist and considered her question. “That’s an interesting question. Maybe it’s because I’m a glutton for punishment? Perhaps I miss the daily tongue-lashing from you? Or maybe I figure it’s time you and I have a discussion where you can’t walk away from me so easily before we finish.” His gaze told her he wasn’t kidding on that last part.
Since he was standing between her and the only exit, he had her on that one. Nerves began to pulsate within her, but she refused to allow him the satisfaction of seeing how his presence affected her. She turned to the tack box and dropped the brush inside, then turned back to face him, sliding her hands into her back pockets.
“I’ll say it again. We’ve said everything there is to say. There’s no use in rehashing the past. I’m really tired of fighting with you.”
Closing the half-door behind him, Trace moved a couple of feet into the stall. “I agree. The past is done with. It’s the future I’m concerned with. And we’re going to discuss that right now, right here. No interruptions; no one running away.”
“I fail to see how the future needs any discussing between you and me. We belong to the past.”
He took another couple of slow, purposeful steps toward her, and she took a step back, only to find herself neatly boxed into a corner. She glanced toward the animal in the opposite corner of the double-sized stall, munching away on the contents of his feed bucket, oblivious to the humans and their discussion. No help there. Josh, her part-time helper, had left an hour earlier. She was alone with Trace. She would not let him rattle her. Easier said than done.
“That’s why we need this little talk, so that I can help you understand the future as it pertains to us—in the here and now.” His arms reached out, one to either side of her; his hands grasped the corner slats of the stall, effectively pinning her in.
Her heart rate kicked up several notches. In fact, he could probably hear it, it was beating so fast and loudly in her own ears. Was he trying to intimidate her? Whatever he’s doing, it’s not going to work. Her chin came up higher. Fight or flight—and flight was out.
“I would prefer to talk outside or on the porch.”
“And I prefer to stay right here … where I can have your undivided attention.”
“Then say whatever it is you came to say and leave. I’m too busy for this interruption.”
“We both know you’re done for the day. Unless you have something on your social calendar … like a date … then you’re free. You don’t have a date, do you?”
Just lie. She thought about that possibility for a moment. But then she saw the look in his eyes and knew he already had his answer and was daring her to say otherwise. “No.”
“Good,” he replied with a slow, way-too-sexy smile that grabbed her heart and flipped it in her chest. Then it slid further south to set off a reaction deep within that could only lead to dangerous things. “I’d hate to have to disappoint any other man who might think he has a chance.”
“A chance for what?” Her voice came out in little more than a whisper.
“A chance of doing this …” His voice trailed off as his lips touched hers. It was swift and without hesitation and too incredibly mind-blowing. Sparks shot off behind her eyelids and seared across a brain that ceased to function. Trace’s mouth moved over hers with mastery and purpose, and when the tip of his tongue teased against her bottom lip and then applied more pressure, her lips surrendered with no resistance at all.
Macy’s hands left her pockets and found themselves, palms flat, moving across the expanse of muscled chest. Her knees began to weaken, and she grasped the tops of his shoulders to steady herself. A soft moan escaped from within her at the sheer explosion of intense feelings and bright sparklers shooting off from every nerve ending in her body.
And then, suddenly, Trace’s mouth moved away from her, but he still held her against him. His breathing was as uneven as hers. “I’d say this conversation got off to a better start than I hoped it would. But there are things that need to be said before we continue with this particular subject and its inevitable conclusion. Maybe we should get a little fresh air. I need to get my thoughts back where they need to be right now.”
The feelings he had stirred went up like a poof of white steam when flame is doused with water. Anger at herself rose in its place. He had so easily lowered her guard! She never seemed to learn where Trace Cartwright was concerned. The worst part was that he knew the power he had over her and her emotions—look what he could do with a simple kiss. She pushed out of his arms and was out of the stall quickly. Trace caught up to her as she cleared the barn door and stepped into the yard. His hand on her arm brought her around to face him and held her there.
“Slow down, Macy. We aren’t through with our discussion. We just needed to catch our breath.” She tried to break free of his hold, but his other hand reached out and imprisoned her in his strong grasp.
“Let me go, Trace. I don’t like you holding me.”
“We both know better than that, Macy. It’s time to put the cards on the table, babe. No more dancing around the subject. Trying to ignore the feelings that are still here hasn’t worked too well for either of us. I admit, I came back here hoping you might be able to forgive me for what I did to you ten years ago. I thought we could get past it.”
“And you were wrong.”
“Thanks for pointing that out, but I’ve been thinking about all the things we’ve said to each other in the last few weeks. And I’ve realized you were right. My leaving was the right thing, but I should have done it differently where you were concerned. I didn’t, though, and there isn’t anything I can do about it now.”
She stilled. Had he ad
mitted he didn’t care about her back then? At least not enough to stick around? The crack in her heart was in danger of breaking wide open again.
“No, you’re wrong,” she replied. “You can do something. You can leave again. Only this time, stay away. For good.”
“I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever. I left here to find something I thought was out there for me. What I found was that what I needed was behind me. I came back to find if it—if you—could forgive me and give me another chance. But I keep making a mess of things. Every time I try to show you my feelings, things get worse. I know I broke the trust you had in me, Macy. I know it’ll take a long time for you to trust me again—if you ever can. But I intend to show you every minute of the day for the rest of our lives that I won’t leave your side again. You are all I have ever needed. The gold I sought was right in my grasp the whole time—but I didn’t know it. I’m building a big house on that hilltop because I want it to be your home too. I hope to fill it with a few rowdy boys and some pretty little girls … if I can talk you into being their mother. I’m asking you to trust me with your heart. I have loved you over half my life, and that’s not going to change as long as I live and breathe in this world.”
Macy couldn’t speak. The lump in her throat wouldn’t move. Her lungs wouldn’t fill with the air she needed. She stood in mute silence as she watched Trace go down on one knee, his hands sliding down her arms to clasp her hands in his. His incredible smile and the pure, unabashed look of love in those eyes wrapped around her heart. That familiar warmth began to work its way throughout her body again.
Was this a dream? Trace down on one knee. No audience this time. Just him and her and—
“I didn’t get this part right last time,” he observed, one hand fumbling for something in his pocket. “At least, not like you deserved for it to be. So I want this time to be what you deserve and not in front of a few hundred cheering people. Because this is about you and me and the future we can make together.”
He stopped for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Macy Donovan, you’re my past and my present, and I want you forever in my future. I’m asking you to take a chance on us again. To be my friend, my partner, my whole life. Will you marry me?” He held up his hand and in his fingers was the most beautiful ring she had ever laid eyes upon. The square-cut center diamond sparked vibrant colors in the rays of the sunset. This was a first—years ago, he hadn’t thought about having a ring handy. Trace really was trying to do everything right.
Maybe this could be a new beginning, a fresh chance to get things right with a man who had changed. Somewhere in the recesses of her heart, she’d known he was telling the truth. Maybe she’d been afraid to let go of the boy she had fallen in love with the first time, so she’d held him in place and refused to see the man standing before her. Maybe it didn’t make sense, but nothing mattered but that truth be spoken.
Could she? Could she hand him her heart again and trust him not to toss it aside one day? Her heart screamed yes. Her head cautioned maybe.
Her hesitancy removed the smile from his face. He stood once more. “I can see there’s still conflict in you, and I know this isn’t an answer you can give me right away—as much as I wish you could. I don’t want to push you. So here’s the deal. The church has one opening on Saturday afternoon at 2:00 p.m. I booked it. The license is good to go, thanks to Judge Samuels doing us a favor. Once in a while, the Cartwright name does come in handy.” He laughed. “I’ve got everything handled. All you have to do is decide to give us a second chance and show up at the church. In the meantime, I’ll put this where I hope you’ll want it to stay,” he said, sliding the ring onto the hand he still held in his. Of course, it fit perfectly.
“Trace, I don’t—” She tried to speak, but he placed a finger against her lips and she hushed.
“Think about it, Macy. That’s all I ask. Search your heart. I’m placing my trust in you and my faith in us. You won’t see me again but I’ll be waiting at the church for you. If you don’t come, then I’ll know you can’t ever forgive me. I’ll make things easy on both of us then and not ever bother you again. I give you my word on that. I loved you the moment I saw you all those years ago, and I love you even more today.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on it. Taking a last, long look into her eyes, he stepped away and walked to his truck.
Chapter 14
The next day, Macy moved through her routine like a robot. Her mind was still numb with the shock of the unexpected proposal. It was also in a massive jumble of thoughts and contradictions. She had little appetite, and sleep came in fitful bouts the first evening. She didn’t say much to anyone. She kept to herself, the horses her only real companions. She managed what little interaction she needed with Josh, addressing any questions he had on the daily workload. All the while, Trace’s proposal kept playing through her mind. She should be happy, on top of the world. The man she loved said he loved her back. Just like before.
That was the sticking point. Her thoughts always came back to the crux of the matter. Trust. Trace had said he loved her before. And he had—in his own way. But it had not been enough, not in the end. When it had come time to commit, he had left her. Then, after ten years of chasing his dreams, he came back claiming that she was his real dream. Her heart ached to believe that. But why hadn’t she been enough to keep him from ever leaving to begin with? The pain came back to her in vivid flashes. Standing on the steps of the church, alone. Travis, driving up after she arrived. Turning on the steps, the silly grin on her face fading when she saw the sadness and pity in his eyes. Taking the note from him with fingers already numb. Travis, who knew what his brother had done, leaving her to read it alone, moving toward the church, and giving her some space. Macy, reading and rereading the words a dozen times before crumpling the paper in her fist.
My beautiful Macy, this breaks my heart, but I can’t marry you. Don’t know how to explain this to you, but I’ve got to give my dream a shot. If I don’t, we might both regret it later. I promise I’ll come back. Forgive me. I do love you. Trace
Over the months that followed, she’d read each word so many times over that she knew them by heart. She survived, hoping. But after the second year with no word from Trace, she finally tore the timeworn paper to shreds and tossed the pieces into the flames of the fireplace. That had been her burial ceremony for anything having to do with Trace Cartwright. Yet all the while, her heart had held out a glimmer of hope … but time had worn even that away.
She hadn’t thought she would survive the pain or humiliation. But her grandmother made her hold her head up and keep facing each day. She’d promised it would get easier. At the time, Macy had found it hard to believe that would ever happen. Then one day, to her amazement, she realized that it had gotten a bit easier, and life began to be good again. She found new reasons to smile—even to laugh again. Each day thereafter came a little easier. She had survived Trace.
And then he returned.
Now, he was asking her to throw all that hard-won personal strength and all her caution to the wind, to put her heart in his hands again. What right did he have to do that? Why couldn’t he have come home sooner? Too many questions and too few answers.
The moon was almost full as she gazed outside her bedroom window into the evening. She wasn’t seeing the stables and the pens beyond … instead, she was seeing a pair of emerald eyes and the way they had looked at her as he had placed the ring on her hand.
The phone rang and she reached for it, her heart skipping a couple of beats when she saw the caller’s name on the screen. She moved to sit on the window seat, taking a calming breath before she answered.
“I thought you were going to leave me alone to make my decision?”
“I said I wouldn’t come around again … I didn’t say I wouldn’t talk to you.” His voice was soft but strong across the night, and it wrapped around her, bringing a sense of warmth and security. Macy felt herself relax.
&n
bsp; “Talk about what?”
“About some of those important things engaged couples should talk about … things we skipped over before.” He paused. “You weren’t already in bed, were you?”
“No, no. I was getting ready to turn in. What things should we talk about?” Curiosity got the better of her.
“First things first … you do want kids, right?”
She hadn’t expected that to be the first question. “Yes, I do.”
“Good. You already know my feelings on that subject from my proposal. And about the house … you know I’m building it for us. But Macy, if you’d rather stay in your gram’s house, I can understand that. We can do some updating on it … anything you want.”
“You’d be willing to do that? I thought you were so happy with the house you’re working so hard to finish.”
“It’s only a house unless you’re there, too. Wherever you and I can be together will be home for me. It’s your decision.”
His words went straight to her core. That lump in her throat made it difficult to swallow again. Darn him. Her heart felt like it would burst. “It’s a big decision, but I think a new family might need the extra room and it sort of signals a new start. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“There’s time. I don’t think we have to make big decisions in one evening. It’s something to think about. I’ll let you get some sleep now. We can talk again tomorrow night.”
“Okay.” Macy wasn’t sure how to respond to this new direction. But it was a positive move.
“Sweet dreams, Macy.” Trace hung up first.
Sweet dreams. Macy remembered those words the next morning when she woke from a series of dreams that had been that, plus more. They left a blush on her cheeks. Trace Cartwright was easily finding his way into the deepest parts of her mind and heart that she had tried to safeguard. Maybe? She didn’t want to jinx anything. Except, she spent the next day with an anticipation building inside her for his next call. What would be the next topic of discussion?