by Julia London
“Do you think Finn has PTSD?” Macy had asked, alarmed.
“I don’t know, but it seems worth a mention. I read this article in the New York Times about it—basically, the person who goes off to war is not the person who comes back from war.”
“The person left behind is not the same, either,” Macy had muttered, and helped herself to more tortilla chips.
And so it had gone.
Macy didn’t do as much work on the fund-raiser as she would have liked. She was aware that things were falling through the cracks, but she couldn’t seem to get motivated to do anything about it. One day, she remembered something that couldn’t wait and called Samantha.
“I just remembered something!” Macy said when she’d gotten Sam on the phone. “Hey Cupcake! is going to donate—”
“I know,” Sam said, cutting her off. “I’ve already talked to them.”
“Oh.” Macy had been taken aback by Sam’s abrupt manner, but figured she had it coming—she’d let things slide. “So how’s everything?” she’d asked brightly.
“Fine, Macy. Everything is under control.”
She detected a tone. “Great,” Macy had said. “Listen, Sam…I know I haven’t been much help lately. I really, really appreciate all that you’re doing. I’m just so messed up right now, it’s hard to think.”
“Yeah,” Sam said.
Sam was miffed. Macy vowed to do better. “You know what? I am going to get right back into the swing of things this week. First, I am going to get these envelopes stuffed so we can get them out the door. And then maybe we could have lunch and talk about what all needs to be done,” she suggested.
“Yeah, maybe. It would be great if you could get the envelopes stuffed.”
“I will—”
“I’m sorry, Macy, I have to go,” Sam said. “I’m at work.” She said good-bye and hung up.
Bewildered, Macy had hung up, too, and had gone in search of the envelopes and flyers.
Later that afternoon, as she was mindlessly stuffing envelopes with her thoughts a million miles away, Laru startled her with a bright “Hey!” as she walked into the dining room where Macy was working.
“Hey,” Macy said listlessly.
Laru paused and eyed her critically. “Weren’t you wearing that yesterday? And Friday?” Macy looked down; she hadn’t even noticed that she was still wearing the same shorts. Laru didn’t wait for an answer. “So when are you going to venture out into the world, kiddo?” she asked cheerfully as she pulled open the fridge and studied the contents.
“Why? Am I overstaying my welcome?” Macy asked anxiously, aware she’d been at Laru’s for a week now and had given no indication that she was leaving soon.
“Of course not!” Laru exclaimed as she pulled a yogurt from the fridge. “I just know you’ll want to get on with your life eventually, and I think you would figure that out sooner rather than later if you, you know…got out. Maybe you could clean up and go see how Finn is doing.”
Macy wanted to go, but she was a little scared and a little confused that he hadn’t returned her calls. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him,” she said. “I’ve called, and he doesn’t call back.”
“Well, I’d say of the three of you, Finn is probably having the hardest time adjusting. I bet he could use a friendly face. And think about it…What if you were stuck out on some spread with Karen Lockhart?”
Macy gave her aunt a lopsided grin. “Excellent point.”
“In the meantime, Wyatt called,” Laru said, patting Macy’s shoulder before moving on. She paused at the arched entry leading to the hall and licked her spoon. “He asked if he could come out. I told him to be here at six.”
“No!” Macy cried, her hands going to her hair. It was already a quarter past five.
Laru smiled and sauntered on. “You’ve got to deal, sweetie.”
If Macy had had the energy, she would have tackled Laru and given her what for. But she’d need all her energy to feed Milo and jump in the shower. She got up, filled the dog’s bowl, and put it out on the porch.
But Milo wasn’t on the porch where he usually lay waiting for Macy. She looked down to the river, figuring the dog had gone in for the umpteenth swim of the day. She stepped out onto the grass, walking down to the river to find her dog.
18
How Milo had found him, Finn didn’t know, but the dog had been happy to see him, loping up the slip to the picnic table Finn was sitting on.
Finn roughhoused with him, but then he couldn’t get the dog to leave. As hard as he tried, Milo wouldn’t go home, and Finn had ended up throwing sticks into the river for him to fetch, which Milo did gleefully, over and over again, as Finn slowly moved him downstream to Laru’s.
Just as he knew eventually she would, Macy appeared on the back porch. She didn’t notice him as she walked down to the river’s edge. She moved stiffly, her eyes on the ground before her. Her appearance surprised Finn; she looked like her hair hadn’t seen a brush in days, and as she came closer, he saw a curious stain on the hem of the cropped Dallas Cowboys T-shirt she wore. She was also wearing some very short shorts, and Finn had a moment to admire her legs before she looked up and noticed him.
“Finn!” she cried.
“Hi, Macy,” he said, moving closer.
She stared at him wide-eyed, as if she were seeing a ghost. But then Milo emerged from the river and trotted to where she stood, dropped the stick, and shook the water from his coat. Macy squealed and did a funny little hop that Finn would have found endearing at one time. He realized he was too angry to be charmed.
She’d sold his ranch.
Finn continued toward her, uncertain of what he would do or say, but wanting an explanation.
As he neared her, Macy dragged her hands through her hair. He could see the dark smudges under her eyes that indicated a lack of sleep. “What are you doing out here?” she asked, stepping closer to him. “You should have come to the house. Laru would love to see you, and I—You look great, Finn. Karen must be taking good care of you. I’m so happy to see you! I’ve been calling—did Karen tell you?”
“Yes.” He looked at the house, then at her. “I didn’t plan to stop,” he said. “I was out for a drive and thought I’d go see what was left of the ranch, but then I remembered—you sold it.”
The color drained from her face. “Did Brodie tell you that? It’s not sold! I asked Brodie not to tell you that!”
“A better question is why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why? Because it felt like piling on! Jesus, Finn, you’ve been through so much, and I knew the closing would be canceled so I didn’t see the point in even bringing it up. It’s still your ranch.”
“It was set to close?” he asked. “So you had it sold for all intents and purposes.”
Macy didn’t answer right away. “Well…yeah,” she admitted. “But I stopped the closing when we found out you were alive.” She smiled, as if that resolved everything. “That’s good news,” she added hopefully.
“How, Macy? You know better than anyone else how hard I worked to own that piece of land. You know the dreams I had for it.”
“Of course I do! But Finn…I didn’t think you were coming back. Don’t you see?”
“I get that. But you know what is sticking in my craw? You didn’t think I was dead very long before you began to shed me from your life.”
“That is not true!”
But Finn’s anger had been building the last few days, and it suddenly sparked. He grabbed Macy’s arm, forcing her up against the wide trunk of an old live oak tree. “You have no idea what it’s like to live day-today when the only thing keeping you alive is a dream of your wife, your land, your work. You have no idea what it’s like to come home and discover that even the memory of you has been left behind.”
“Do you think you’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be left behind?” she exclaimed. “I know what it’s like to be left behind. I know what it’s like to have your husb
and enlist, to beg him not to go, to plead with him to stay—for our sake—and then watch him march off to a war you don’t believe in and stand there and pretend to be a patriot when your heart is breaking and crying out for him to come back, to let someone else fight the damn war, to let someone else die! And I know,” she said, angrily shoving his chest with both hands and causing him to step back, “what it’s like to be left behind and try to keep a working ranch together that was supposed to run itself and have everything go wrong! I know what it’s like to have some guy in an army uniform show up and say, We regret to inform you that your husband died on August eighteenth at fourteen hundred hours, and when you wake up from the shock of that, you realize that he was so sure he’d come back, he never told you what to do with the life he left behind!”
A tear appeared and slipped out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t blame you for being angry,” she said, her voice softer. “I can’t begin to imagine the pain you’ve suffered. But I didn’t shed you. I didn’t even know who I was without you. I did the best I knew how to do, I swear to you I did. You have to stop punishing me. Please stop punishing me. Please.”
Something in her earnest voice wrapped around Finn’s heart. His soul had hardened to a big block of ice in three years. But his feelings for Macy had a way of breaking on that ice and melting it. He suddenly didn’t feel so furious; he felt numb.
“I can’t keep defending myself to everyone,” she said, her voice breaking. “I didn’t do anything maliciously. I couldn’t have prepared for this. And I don’t know what the answers are, even though God knows I have tried to figure it out. Do you remember when you told me why your ranch was named Two Wishes? That your grandfather said there was no such thing as one wish, because when one wish was spent, another one popped up to take its place? And when he wished for a ranch, another wish for horses popped up—”
“What does that have to do with us now?” Finn asked.
“I have two wishes,” she said tearfully. “I wish I could make you happy.” She touched his face. “But then I wish I could make Wyatt happy. He’s been good to me, Finn, and I want to make him happy, too. I love two men, but I can’t make them both happy. It’s impossible.” She lowered her head and pressed her fingers to her eyes.
Finn narrowed his gaze on her. “What about what is best for you, Macy? Have you thought of that?”
Macy opened her mouth to respond, but quickly shut it.
It was possible, Finn knew better than anyone, that she hadn’t even thought about what was best for her. He impulsively touched her cheek. “What would make you happy in all of this, baby?” he asked softly. “What do you want?”
“Don’t do that,” she muttered and tried to look away, but Finn caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “Let me help you out here,” he said low. “I think I know what you want, but I think you don’t know how to get there, or you’re afraid to admit it. Do you remember the first time we made love?”
She blushed. “Come on, Finn.”
“I remember it,” he said, ignoring her. “I remember it so often that sometimes, I can close my eyes and feel your skin against my cheek,” he said, letting his gaze roam her face, her curiously arousing mess of hair. “I think about it all the time,” he said, touching his finger to her lips. “It was incredible.”
Macy’s chest rose with her breath. Her eyes locked on his and she slowly leaned back against the tree.
“But you wouldn’t admit you wanted to make love, remember? You were afraid to want that for yourself,” he said, laying his hand against her collarbone and slowly sliding his fingers to her bare skin in the vee of her T-shirt.
“Stop,” she whispered, but Finn moved his hand to the smooth column of her neck and rested his thumb in the hollow of her throat. He felt her pulse leap at his touch and flutter rapidly.
Macy drew another rough breath.
“You were shy at first, but then you relaxed,” he continued quietly. “And your skin started to burn.” His hand slipped into her shirt, his fingers brushing against the swell of her breast. “When I pushed inside you, you were warm and wet.” He stepped closer, straddling her legs with his, delving deeper into her shirt, his fingers feeling the lace of her bra. “Your eyes were so blue, I could see the light in them. I could see how much you liked the way I was touching you.”
She drew her breath in a soft gasp. Her lips, wet and plump and enticing, parted. He bent his head, his mouth brushing across the corner of hers. “You were tight,” he whispered, “but you opened for me, Macy, because it was what you wanted. It made you happy.”
Macy closed her eyes.
Finn brushed his lips against hers again, sliding over them, touching the tip of his tongue to them. “Do you remember?” he whispered. “Do you remember riding that crest together?”
She began to quiver—from fear or restraint, he didn’t know, but he put his arm around her back and pulled her against him. Macy didn’t move, but when Finn slipped his tongue between her lips, she kissed him back.
She wanted him. She nipped at his lips, her chest filling with his breath, her breast pressing into him. Finn caressed her body, her breast, her face and ears, her arm, her hip.
He tried not to demand too much of her, tried to stay gentle, but it was almost impossible. His body was raging with need, his heart racing with hope he’d not felt in a very long time. That kiss, beneath the twisted boughs of an old live oak, took him back to a better, simpler time, when they’d been one. He could feel her body resonating against his. He could taste the salty path of tears that slid to the corner of her mouth, and the warmth of her breath.
And just as he began to believe that he could go home again, he heard someone call her name. It took Finn a moment to process the intrusion; it took Macy even longer. It sounded like Laru, and Finn felt a bit of apprehension.
“Macy, are you out there?” Laru called from somewhere on the back porch.
“Oh God,” Macy murmured.
“Wyatt’s here!” Laru called.
Macy looked at Finn. “Laru invited him over.” She put her hand against his face, ran her thumb over his lip.
Tension had built in Finn to the point he thought he was going to explode—he didn’t need any intrusions now. “You never said what would make you happy,” he said, ignoring Laru.
Her gaze flicked over his face; her hand slid to his chest. “You, Finn,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. “It’s always been you.”
His heart skipped a beat. “What does that mean?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t go inside.”
“I have to,” she said. “I don’t want to disrespect him.”
“You can’t leave me hanging, baby.”
“I know, I know,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut a moment. “But I can’t leave him like this. Finn, I don’t have all the answers, but I know this with all my heart—I have never loved anyone the way I love you.”
“Macy, are you coming?” Laru shouted.
Macy peeked around the tree and looked up at the house, then at Finn.
She was going. Finn took her hand and kissed it, then stepped back. Neither of them spoke, but he felt a current of emotion and desire flowing between them.
“I love you,” she whispered, and stepped away.
Milo jumped up and followed Macy as she began the slow walk to the house.
Finn watched her until she stepped onto the covered porch and he couldn’t see her any longer, his heart beating hard with hope.
19
Wyatt was standing in the living room, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Hey,” he said, taking in Macy’s dishevelment when she came in through the back door. “Are you okay?”
“Fine!” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her shorts. “Oh, you mean…you mean this?” she said, looking down at herself. “Yeah…I wasn’t expecting anyone today, and I was working, and I…I guess I didn’t get around to a shower.”
&
nbsp; He didn’t say anything to that. “Hey, buddy!” he said happily, going down on his haunches to rub the coat of an ecstatically happy Milo, who Macy hadn’t realized had come in behind her. Wyatt was dressed nicely in black slacks and a turquoise polo shirt. He looked handsome, Macy thought. Strong and capable. He’d always appeared that way to her, as if he could hold the world on his shoulders if necessary, and honestly, there was a part of Macy that still wanted to melt into those capable arms. Everything will be all right. She’d melted so many times before when he’d said that.
He looked good. But then she thought of Finn on the back lawn. Do you remember the first time we made love?
Wyatt looked up from the dog and smiled. “Milo!” Macy said. “You’re not supposed to be in here. Come on, out in the yard.” To Wyatt, she said, “Sorry, but I can’t keep him out of the river and Laru keeps threatening to make dog burgers.”
“Maybe y’all should come home with me,” Wyatt suggested with a wry smile.
Macy tried to smile, but she couldn’t manage it. She opened the door and shooed Milo out, then looked at the flowers Wyatt held. “Are those for me?”
“Actually, these are for Laru,” he said, holding them out to Macy. “For taking my phone calls. I forgot to give them to her when she let me in.”
Macy moved forward to take the flowers from him. But Wyatt misunderstood her intention and surprised her by kissing her. It was an awkward, clumsy kiss. She quickly took the flowers and put them between her and Wyatt. “I’ll put these in water.”
She walked into the kitchen to put some space between them, but Wyatt followed her. “So…” Wyatt said as she looked for a vase. “I’ve really missed you, sweetheart. I was thinking maybe we could grab a bite to eat and catch up. I can put those in water if you want to jump in the shower.”
No, no, she didn’t want to go out, she didn’t want to catch up. She wanted to crawl under bedcovers and hide from him. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him any more than she already had, so she methodically continued with the task of putting the flowers in water.