by Julia London
“Yeah, sure. No, I’m great,” Wyatt said as disappointment drew his shoulders down.
“How’s that resort? Your mother and I want you to finish that up so we can come stay,” he said, laughing.
“It’s off to a great start. Got a big groundbreaking next week,” Wyatt said without enthusiasm.
“That sounds exciting. Well, okay then. Just wanted to check in. Tell Macy we said hello.”
“Right. Bye, Dad,” Wyatt said, and hung up the phone. He stood there staring at it. Had he always been so disconnected from his parents? He couldn’t really remember anymore. They’d been good parents, he guessed. He never remembered them making an effort to listen to him. They just wanted to hear that everything was all right. When there was a problem, they’d say, “We know you can handle it, Wyatt,” and then move on to a more pleasant subject.
It would be different with his kid. He’d be an involved father, someone the kid could talk to. Was it really so hard?
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the only person he’d ever really been able to open up to was Macy. He wasn’t the kind of guy to have confidants. He had buddies, but the closest they got to talking about feelings was discussing the pennant race or the Longhorns in the Bowl Championship Series polls. The closest he’d ever come to a confidant was Tommy Payne in high school. Tommy owned a car dealership in Dallas. Wyatt hadn’t talked to him in ten years.
So Wyatt continued to go it alone. He spent his days obsessing about Macy and kept imagining her with G.I. Joe. That made him crazy, so he’d try to remember her as she’d been with him. He could see her standing in the kitchen, studying a recipe book as she experimented with some new dish. He imagined her smiling at him when he came home from work, or doing yoga in the middle of the living room and warning him not to laugh.
Wyatt’s obsession made him angry, furious, blind with rage. In one of his angrier moments, he wrote Macy a letter and told her he would seek full custody of the baby. He heard nothing back—not that he’d really expected to—but he’d at least put her on notice that she couldn’t destroy his life. She couldn’t take everything. She could take his heart and smash it to worm food, but she couldn’t take his dog or his baby. He told his lawyer to go after full custody.
“You bet,” Jack said. “But the first thing we have to do is file suit to have the marriage declared void. Then we can tackle the custody issues.”
As strongly as Wyatt felt about the custody issues, he couldn’t yet bring himself to declare his marriage void. He asked Jack to give him a couple of days. He needed to work up to it, to come to terms.
In the meantime, he tried to focus on the construction of the resort and toward that end, he put Linda Gail’s excellent event-planning skills to use in setting up an official groundbreaking. He invited the mayor and the city council, all of whom were very excited about the resort and the jobs it would bring to the area. Wyatt took out ads in the local and Austin papers. He had Linda Gail send invitations to Macy and her entire family. That earned him another look from Linda Gail, but Wyatt ignored her.
The truth was that Wyatt harbored an insane hope that with the land gone, the wheels on Cowboy Bob’s little chuck wagon would fall off and Macy would come back to him. Wyatt liked to pretend that he’d have to think long and hard about taking her back, but deep inside, he knew there’d be no thinking. He’d give her a good scolding, but he had another, stronger fantasy of the two of them painting a nursery together.
That fantasy kept hammering at him, pushing him to do everything he was doing. Wyatt had suffered a severe setback and he was mad as hell, but mostly, he was determined to win. He was not a man who accepted defeat.
37
It was Dr. Rock’s idea that Finn put some of the coping techniques he was learning in therapy into practice in real life, particularly when it came to crowds.
Crowds were another little problem that had crept up on Finn after he’d managed to stop drinking to numb himself—he’d had what Dr. Rock said was a panic attack. It had shocked Finn when it happened, and it seemed to have happened for no reason. He’d been in Austin with Macy, where they had gone so that he could see Dr. Rock and then consult with her lawyer. They were waiting at a crosswalk for the light to turn and several people crowded onto the corner, also waiting for the light to turn. Even though Finn stood a head taller than most people, he was suddenly perspiring. Every movement, every slight jostle made him jump, and in no time at all, he was tightly wound. He felt exposed, and realized he was waiting for someone to produce a gun, a bomb, a knife—
He hadn’t even realized he was breathing like he was until Macy tugged hard on his sleeve. “What’s the matter?” she had asked frantically.
“I gotta get out of here,” he’d said, and had started to back up, but managed to plow into a woman who cried out. He’d really lost it then, flailing through the crowd, unable to breathe, unable to focus.
Macy had managed to get him to Dr. Rock’s office. Dr. Rock had told him to lower his head between his knees and take a couple of deep breaths. When Finn had finally calmed down, Dr. Rock explained he was exhibiting classic symptoms of PTSD. Finn didn’t like hearing that, but even he couldn’t deny it any longer. Either he was going to lose his mind, or he was going to put his trust in Dr. Rock.
They began to work on ways to deal with his reactions.
When Dr. Rock suggested he find a small crowd and practice some of the techniques, Finn had balked. But then he’d read in the paper about the groundbreaking for the Hill Country Spa and Resort. This, he had to see—he had to see Wyatt Clark actually break ground on the land he’d stolen from him. Wyatt could damn sure look him in the eye while he did it.
Finn wasn’t ready to fly solo, however, and he didn’t want to appear weak to Macy. He called Brodie and asked him if he could take some time off work to go with him.
“Dude—get a lawyer!” Brodie said.
“I’ve got one,” Finn said. “But I need money for the retainer.” In the meantime, he wasn’t letting Wyatt get away with it.
The morning of the groundbreaking was hot and hazy, but there was quite a little crowd gathered nonetheless—mostly retirees with nothing better to do, lots of suits, and, oddly enough, a preschool class. The kids were chasing each other in a field.
Brodie looked at the crowd, then at Finn. “You sure about this?”
“Yep,” Finn said. “Let’s go.”
They walked down a slope to where the ceremony was going to be held. It was about a mile from the southern boundary of Finn’s land. They were up on a rise, and from where he stood Finn could see that even more clearing had taken place. His throat constricted. Generations of Lockharts had owned that land. His ancestors had bought it with the money they’d brought from Scotland. They’d worked it and eked out a living, even when there wasn’t much of a living to be had, and now, that land would be torn up for a line of condos.
It was painful to look at, so Finn turned his attention to where the ceremony would take place, as evidenced by eight brand-new shovels with red bows tied around the handles. A space had been cleared and fresh dirt brought in for the politicians to turn so they wouldn’t risk embarrassing themselves by not being able to break ground.
A shriek of laughter caught Finn’s attention and he glanced at the kids in the field. It was hard to imagine a little Macy, but he pictured a little girl with honey-blonde hair like her mother’s running around that field.
Finn had thought a lot about her pregnancy. He and Macy had tried so hard to conceive a kid before he’d gone off to war. Somehow, she’d managed it easily with Wyatt. Too easily. Finn would be lying if he told himself that at first, he hadn’t been completely unnerved that she was carrying Wyatt’s baby. The thought of raising another man’s child—particularly when it meant he’d have that man in his life for the foreseeable future—was sobering. He’d never say so to Macy, not after she’d put it all on the line to be with him. In the end, that was the only thing t
hat mattered. He was beginning to accept that his life hadn’t worked according to his best-laid plans, and the trick to surviving was to go with the flow.
So Finn would love that child—
“Excuse me,” a voice said, startling Finn. “Aren’t you our local hero?”
He jerked around. “Ah…”
“You are!” The gray-haired woman beamed up at him. “Frank! Over here, Frank! It’s the hero!” Several heads turned and looked at him.
“My goodness, it is!” another woman said.
“I, ah…I—” Breathe. Just a bunch of senior citizens. Not enemy civilians. No guns, no suicide vests.
“Hey, hey,” Brodie said, sensing Finn’s discomfort, and tried to put himself between Finn and the curious crowd.
“How are you getting on?” one man asked, sidling around Brodie.
“Good,” Finn said. He cleared his throat and clenched his hands. When this happened to him, it infuriated and perplexed him. He knew it was happening, that his fears were irrational, but he was powerless to stop it. I’m okay, he told himself.
“We’re so glad to have you back,” said another woman.
“And we’re so proud!” another woman trilled.
Finn felt hot and unsteady. “I…I, ah…” His throat was closing up.
“Finn’s been getting back into the swing of things,” Brodie said quickly.
“Well, that’s to be expected after what he endured,” the older gentleman said. “The local paper indicated it was pretty bad. What were the Taliban really like?”
“Hey, it looks like the master of ceremonies has arrived,” Brodie said.
All heads turned to a white pickup that had just arrived, pulling right up to the rope that separated the crowd from the parking area. Wyatt got out of the truck, along with Milo. He stepped over the rope and strode to the front while Milo scampered ahead, his nose to the ground.
The assembled throng began shifting to the front, including Finn’s well-wishers.
Wyatt walked up to the microphone while Milo sniffed around the shovels. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention,” he said.
People began moving forward more urgently, taking Brodie and Finn with them. Finn’s pulse quickened again; to keep from flipping out, he kept his gaze fixed on Wyatt, focused on his breathing, and repeated in his head, No one is going to kill me. No one is going to kill me.
I am not going to kill him.
I am not going to kill him.
He didn’t really hear the short speeches that every one of the politicians made. He kept his gaze on Wyatt Clark. Wyatt didn’t smile, didn’t make eye contact with anyone. He seemed to be looking at something in the distance. He seemed, Finn slowly realized, like a very miserable man.
The mayor was the last to speak. She had to pull the mic down and began with a thank-you for all the assembled people. She then launched into praise for Wyatt Clark. “It takes all different kinds to make a community unique and strong,” she said. “It takes men like Wyatt Clark, who can see what Cedar Springs has the potential to become. And it takes people like Sergeant Finn Lockhart, whom we are so fortunate to have returned to us, who would give his life to defend places like Cedar Springs. I understand he is here today. Sergeant Lockhart, are you out there?”
Wyatt’s head snapped around at that; someone pointed at Finn and a round of applause went up.
Finn tried to smile, God knew he did. But he could not unclench his fists.
“And it takes men like Simon Daniels,” the mayor continued, “who has been the president of the First Bank of Cedar Springs…”
Wyatt did not turn his attention from Finn; nor did Finn look away. But something happened to Finn as he stood there looking at Wyatt, at the man whose life he had destroyed by living. Perhaps he imagined it, but he could see the sadness in Wyatt’s eyes, the edginess in his demeanor. It surprised the hell out of Finn that he felt sorry for Wyatt. He knew how heartbroken Wyatt had to be, because he knew what a treasure Macy was.
It wasn’t until a heavyset woman hurried to hand out the festooned shovels and Wyatt was forced to look at something else that their silent standoff was broken.
Wyatt and the city council and the mayor lined up, put their feet on the shovel blades, and, on the count of three, all turned dirt. The crowd applauded, the children yelled hooray, and the heavyset woman began to direct everyone to a tent where refreshments had been laid out.
As the crowd cleared, a few of the kids chased butterflies. Brodie and Finn remained behind, Finn watching Wyatt. He didn’t see Milo until the dog came bounding up to him, his tongue hanging almost to the ground.
“Here he comes,” Brodie said softly as Finn squatted down to pet the dog. “Want me to get rid of him?”
“Nah.” Finn stood up. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Finn—”
“It’s okay. I’m not going to kill him.” He gave his brother a sort of half smile just as Wyatt strode over to them.
Finn looked him square in the eye. “Hello, Wyatt.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Wyatt demanded, looking at Finn, then at Brodie.
“Not much. Just watching a groundbreaking.”
“Yeah, a groundbreaking. We’re going to take that piece of ranchland and finally make some money off of it. What do you think about that?” Wyatt asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Okay,” Brodie said. “That’s my cue to leave. Come on, Milo,” he said and whistled for the dog.
“Milo!” Wyatt called. “Stay.” The dog sat instantly and looked up at Wyatt and Finn.
“On that note,” Brodie muttered, and walked away.
“You need to leave,” Wyatt said to Finn. “You’re only here to cause trouble.”
“I’ll admit I probably had that in mind when I decided to come,” Finn said calmly, “but I’m not going to cause you any trouble, Wyatt.”
Wyatt looked confused. And furious.
“Look, man, I owe you an apology. I went off on you when I first got back into town, and you didn’t deserve that. In all honesty, you don’t deserve any of what’s happened. I see that now, and I’m sorry.”
Wyatt’s face darkened with angry confusion. “What in the devil are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Macy and the ranch. I know why you sold it, and I don’t really blame you. I’m not going to let you get away with it, but you know what? I think I might have done worse if the situation had been reversed.”
Wyatt took a menacing step forward. “Look, pal, I am looking for a reason to knock you into Travis County. You’ve ruined my life. Are you happy?”
“That’s what I’m saying, Wyatt—I’m not happy about that at all. In fact, I am sorry to the bottom of my soul for it,” Finn said, clapping his hand over his heart. “It’s clear that I ruined your life, and I promise you that I never meant to. I just wanted my wife and my life back. Man-to-man here—you can’t really fault me for it, can you? Any more than I can fault you for falling in love with her.”
“I don’t give you as much as a moment of thought, Lockhart,” Wyatt sneered. “But if you think you’re getting your land back, or Macy for that matter, you’re wrong. I’m not through with the two of you.”
“Now, Wyatt,” Finn said, “you know what they say—evil deeds are like chickens in that they all come home to roost.”
“Don’t hand me some barnyard bromide, Lockhart. I’m not worried. Macy will come home to me once she figures out that she can’t go back to her old life again, and I will build condos on that land and make a fortune, and you—” He snorted. “You should be looking for property way out of Cedar Springs because I intend to make your life a living hell.”
Finn didn’t like the sound of that, but he couldn’t ignore the pain in Wyatt’s eyes. “I don’t think so,” he said calmly.
“I know so,” Wyatt snapped as the heavyset woman hurried toward them. “Get a lawyer if you think you’ve been wronged, but I’ll guaran-damn-tee y
ou that you won’t get an inch of that land back.”
“Wyatt?” the woman said, reaching them. She looked at Finn, then at Wyatt. “Everything okay? They’re cutting the cake.”
“Great,” Wyatt snapped, and turned around. “Milo!” he called.
Milo, who had slid from a sitting position down onto his belly, perked his ears toward Wyatt, then looked up at Finn.
Wyatt stopped and glared at the dog. “Milo.”
Finn watched his dog hop up and trot alongside Wyatt, who was striding so hard the woman had to jog to keep up.
Brodie, who had taken refuge under a tree, looked back at Finn. But Finn was watching Wyatt. He didn’t think that even he, in his years of captivity, had known the sort of loneliness of soul and spirit that Wyatt Clark was feeling right now. At least Finn had had hope. Wyatt had nothing but empty threats to cling to.
38
Macy had naively believed that once she’d made her decision, everything would fall into place. Life would go back to normal—granted, a new normal—but at least a normal without all the drama of the last few weeks.
That was hardly the case—it seemed as if everyone in town had an opinion about what she should have done, and the running tally, as reported to her by Emma, was that about half the populace of Cedar Springs thought she had wronged Wyatt, and the other half thought she’d taken too long to return to Finn.
“Wow,” Macy said. She had her own opinions about what she’d done, and none of them were very good. It was supposed to be easier now, but it wasn’t. She ached for Wyatt.
“Who cares? I know how hard this has been for you,” Emma said with sisterly earnestness.
Macy looked up from writing a list of things she needed for a nursery and smiled. “Thanks, Emmie. I can always count on you. What about Mom? Is she still mad?”
“Mad is not the right word,” Emma said with a roll of her eyes. “You know how she is; she gets so bent out of shape when people don’t instantly agree with her. Did I tell you? One of the interviews I had last week looked really promising until I got there. It was supposed to be a finance job, but it was basically a telemarketing job. I told Mom, and she wouldn’t believe me. She said I had misunderstood. Macy, I was there. I didn’t misunderstand, but try telling Mom that.”