MacKenzie's Lady

by Dallas Schulze

  Holly searched his face, seeing the weariness of defeat there but seeing also an openness that hadn't been there before. She began hesitantly, praying that he would listen.

  "That first night we made love, when you asked me if it was safe, I didn't really hear you. I was...thinking of other things." A delicate flush rose in her cheeks as she remembered just what she had been thinking of, but she plowed on. "I didn't realize until the next morning what you meant. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's the truth."

  Mac shook his head, his eyes skimming her earnest features. "It's almost ridiculous enough to believe," he admitted tiredly. "But if I accept that, it still doesn't explain why you didn't come to me right away to tell me what had happened. I had a right to know, Holly."

  Her flush deepened and her eyes dropped to where her fingers plucked restlessly at the arm of her chair. "I didn't tell you because I felt like an idiot. It seemed like such a stupid thing to have done. And it wasn't just that. I've always wanted children, Mac. I can't remember a time when I didn't want them, and I was afraid that maybe it hadn't been a misunderstanding," she admitted in a whisper. "I was afraid I'd done it deliberately. And I have to be honest and tell you that I can't regret that I am pregnant. I regret the way it happened, but I love having your child inside me."

  Her eyes swept up to meet his, shimmering with tears but open and honest, almost black with the intensity of her need to make him understand. "I never meant for you to be hurt and I wish I'd never said the things I did, but I can't be sorry I'm carrying your baby."

  "I want to believe you, Holly." She was silent, hardly daring to breathe. "You know what I can't quite deal with? You weren't going to tell me that you were pregnant. Whether you deliberately got pregnant or not, if I hadn't found out about it myself, I'd never have known."

  She blinked beneath the intensity of his eyes and groped frantically for something to say, something to take the hurt out of his face. She came up empty. She could not lie and say that she had planned to tell him. It was lies that had gotten them into this mess.

  She shrugged unhappily. "I should have told you. I know that. But I was so hurt and angry, and then when the anger left, I just couldn't get up the courage to contact you."

  Mac shook his head, his expression resigned. He had wanted to hear her say that she had planned to tell him all along. But she wouldn't lie about it.

  "Maybe another man wouldn't have reacted so violently to that particular lie." Her eyes swept to his face, surprised to see weary resignation there. She knew that whatever he was about to tell her was something he didn't like to remember. "You touched a raw place that I guess has never really healed." His eyes focused on the carpet between his boots.

  "I went to college at UCLA on a football scholarship and I joined the marines right after I graduated. I would have been caught in the draft anyway, so I preferred to enlist and at least retain the illusion of making a free choice. That was right at the height of the war and enlisting was pretty well tantamount to abdicating from your generation, but it seemed the smartest thing to do at the time.

  "While I was in college I fell in love with Diane. She came from a very wealthy family and she was very beautiful. I didn't really fit in with her crowd. Both my parents were dead and they'd never been upper-class when they were alive.

  "We had absolutely nothing in common, so we fell madly in love. I thought she was utterly perfect. I knew her parents wouldn't approve, but she said that I meant more to her than anything else."

  He leaned back in his chair, his eyes focused on distant memories. Holly wasn't sure if he was even aware of her anymore. "Diane didn't want me to join the marines but when I insisted, she seemed to accept it. We vowed undying love for each other and she promised to marry me when I came home on leave. Unfortunately, I had hardly completed basic training when they were shipping my unit off to 'Nam. I barely had time to write and tell Diane what was happening.

  "A few weeks after I went over, I got a letter from her. She was pregnant and I had to come home immediately to marry her. Her family was old money, very conservative, and Diane couldn't take the humiliation of being an unwed mother.

  "I couldn't get home, so I wrote to her and sent her money. I had an aunt living in Oregon and I told Diane to go there and Aunt Maggie would take care of her until I could get home."

  He paused, lost in thought, his mouth twisted in a bitter smile. Holly said nothing, afraid to break his unusually revealing mood by reminding him that she was there.

  "It was almost ten months before I made it home. I never got another letter from Diane. Aunt Maggie wrote and said that Diane had gotten in touch and told her that she was going to stay with her family in California but she never answered any of the letters I sent there.

  "I flew to L.A. as soon as I hit the States and I went to her parents' home. At first they refused to tell me anything, but finally her mother told me that Diane no longer lived with them and gave me her address. I knew they had never approved of me. Nobody mentioned a baby and I thought maybe they had set her up in an apartment somewhere so that none of their friends would know about the baby.

  "I went to the address. It was a beautiful home in Palos Verdes. I can still remember the smell of the roses that lined the walk. I was almost frantic to see Diane and the baby. It seemed incredible to think that I had a child and I didn't even know whether it was a boy or a girl.

  "I hadn't expected Diane to fall into my arms. I knew she would be upset that she'd gone through so much alone, but I thought we could work everything out. After all, we loved each other. What I wasn't expecting was the absolute horror on her face when she saw me. It wasn't the home of a relative or friend. It was her home, hers and her husband's. She had been married for almost two months."

  He didn't hear Holly's gasp of horror. "He was out of town on business, which is probably why her parents felt it was safe to let me know where she was. It was apparently their idea of an amusing way to let me find out that she was married. Of course, they didn't know about the baby or they might have been more concerned about my reaction.

  "She explained it all to me very carefully. Apparently she had decided that she didn't want to marry someone who didn't share her background, but the baby was a real complication. Her parents would never have forgiven her, so she took the money I sent her and went to stay with a cousin in New York. Abortions were still difficult to get, so she had the baby without telling anyone and then came home to L.A. and married the son of one of her father's partners." He stopped talking and after a while Holly dared to prod him softly. "What about the baby?"

  His hands tightened into fists but his voice remained flat and unemotional. "It was a healthy baby boy. She never saw him before she gave him up for adoption. I have a son who's almost thirteen years old and I wouldn't even know him if I saw him on the street."

  "Did you.. .did you try to find him, maybe fight the adoption?" She hesitated to ask the question, frightened of intruding on his private grief.

  "And offer him what?" he asked bitterly. "I was on my way back to Asia and had no idea if I'd come back in a box next time. No family. It was one thing to ask Aunt Maggie to let Diane stay with her, but I couldn't ask an old lady to take care of an infant. I didn't have any money or any prospects of earning any. It seemed best for the boy just to leave things as they were. But then I sometimes wonder if I didn't con myself into thinking that was best for him because I didn't want the responsibility.

  "Oh, hell, what a bloody mess!"

  Tears flooded her eyes at the raw agony in that final sentence. What had she done? She could not have found a more potent weapon with which to hurt him.

  There was really nothing left to be said, she realized dully. She got to her feet and looked down at his bowed head. She ached to comfort him, to hold him and make the pain go away, but she was the last person who could do that.

  "I... I think I'll go to bed," she said vaguely, more to define her next step for herself than to inform him.

>   There was no reaction from Mac. With a small, helpless gesture of one hand, she turned and left the room, leaving him alone with his bitter memories.

  ❧

  Holly was not surprised to wake alone the next morning. After the trauma of the night before, the real surprise would have been if he had slept with her.

  She felt lethargic as she went about her morning routine and avoided looking in the mirror until she was dressed. The reflection there made her wish she had avoided it then. She looked every one of her twenty-eight years. In fact, she looked—and felt—a few years older. There were violet shadows under her eyes and her mouth had a pinched look that depressed her. She experimented with a few smiles and then decided that the grimaces she was producing looked even worse than the original expression.

  As she walked down the hall that led from the bedrooms to the main living area, she became aware of the aroma of brewing coffee. She glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o'clock, and even on Sundays, Mac was usually gone by then. On Sundays, he played racquetball.

  She stopped in the entrance to the dining room. Mac's huge frame was sprawled carelessly in the big oak rocker that stood in one corner of the room. That rocker had been a present from Ken, who said that all pregnant women liked to rock and all babies should have a rocker. The fact that the rocker was miles too big for Holly's small frame and that the motion made her seasick was irrelevant beside the meaning of the gesture. She treasured it for the friendship it represented.

  Mac's eyes were closed, the lines of exhaustion etched in his face a mute testament to his lack of sleep. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn the night before, the jeans rumpled and the light cotton shirt open down the front, the fabric wrinkled and creased. He had removed his boots and one stockinged foot was draped carelessly over the arm of the rocker. A mug of coffee was clutched in one hand, held against the bare skin of his stomach as if he were cradling it to him for warmth. He looked so alone and vulnerable that she had to blink back tears as she looked at him.

  Holly crossed the room quietly and peeked into the cup. It was half full of tepid liquid, and if he twitched in his sleep, it was going to spill all over him. She grasped the cup and eased it gently out of his hand, trying not to jar him. But even that slight movement was enough to penetrate his uneasy sleep, and his eyes opened as she pulled the cup away. He blinked at her sleepily for a moment as if trying to place where he was, and then he sat up straight, groaning as his twisted muscles fell back into place. She stepped back, uncertain of the next move. Should she just act as if last night had never happened?

  While she was trying to make up her mind, he got to his feet and arched his back in a bone-popping stretch. "Hell of a stupid place to fall asleep," he muttered. "I think I've done permanent damage to my back.''

  His eyes moved to where she stood, their expression unreadable beneath the fringe of his lashes. "We didn't really finish talking last night. I need to go take a shower. Why don't you have a cup of tea or something and we'll talk as soon as I get cleaned up." He reached out to touch her lightly on the cheek. "We'll work it out."

  She watched him leave the room before turning to the sink to dump the cold coffee out of his cup, rinsing and drying it with automatic movements. That last sentence sounded positive.

  When Mac came back into the room twenty minutes later, Holly was sitting at the table, a cup of tea in front of her and fresh coffee made for him. She flicked quick glances at him while he poured himself a cup of the rich dark liquid. He still looked tired but fresh jeans, a clean shirt and a shave had made a vast improvement. He hadn't bothered with shoes or socks, and he looked endearingly boyish with his feet bare and his dark hair still damp from the shower.

  She dropped her gaze back to her cup as he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. It was left to Mac to break the uneasy silence.

  "I did a lot of thinking last night after you went to bed." He took a quick swallow of coffee, giving himself a moment to organize his thoughts. "You were right. I did say that I was willing to do my best to make this marriage work, and I haven't done that." He shrugged. "Whatever happened between us before is in the past, and we've got to put it behind us and think about the future."

  His eyes swept up with a suddenness that surprised her. She had no time to drop her gaze, and once his eyes caught hers, she could not look away.

  "I do want us to have a future together. Maybe I've been punishing you for what happened with Diane without even realizing it. But that's over and done with and long past changing. I'd like to try starting over, if you're willing. This time without bitterness. I may not be the best husband material but I'm trainable."

  He gave her a lopsided grin that tugged at her emotions, but she pushed aside the impulse to agree to anything he asked. This wasn't just her future they were discussing. It was her baby's future.

  Her eyes dropped to her teacup again and she swirled the amber liquid around, noticing with absent attention the patterns formed by the bits of tea in the bottom of the cup. It was a pity she didn't read tea leaves, she thought. It would be nice to be able to put her faith in the pattern of the leaves and let them make her decision. But she didn't read tea leaves and there was no one who could make this choice for her.

  The choice was a very simple one. She could stay with Mac and hope that he really could put aside the past and learn to love and trust her, or she could leave him and make a life for herself and her child apart from him.

  Her mouth twisted in a rueful smile. So much for weighing all her options. There really was no choice. How could she leave him as long as there was a chance they could make it work? She looked across the table into his eyes and her decision was reinforced by his obvious anxiety. He really wanted her to stay. She smiled at him, her expression making it clear that she was more than willing to meet him halfway.

  "I'd like for us to have a future together, too." She held her hand across the table and it was engulfed by his much larger palm. Her heart swelled on an upsurge of hope.

  Chapter 13

  The phone rang just as she was throwing the last of the clothes in the dryer. Holly muttered irritably as she started the machine. Why was it that phones never rang when you were standing right next to them? They always waited until you were halfway across the house-before going off.

  She hurried out of the utility porch and across the living room. Why was she hurrying? It was probably going to be someone calling to sell her newspapers or tickets to a charity ball, or someone who wanted donations left on the front porch. Of course, if she didn't hurry, it would probably be a call to tell her that she'd won a million dollars in the Reader's Digest sweepstakes. And one way or another, she always hated to miss a call because then she had to wonder who it had been.

  She snatched the receiver up at the end of the fifth ring. "Hello?" She half expected to get a dial tone, but there was still someone on the line.

  "Holly? This is your long-lost and forgotten brother."

  "James!" Unconsciously she lowered her voice and glanced around as if expecting agents to pop out of the fireplace. But there was no one there. Mac wasn't even home, since Ken had needed his support.

  "James, where are you?"

  "I'm in Europe. Where did you think I was, Outer Mongolia? That would explain why I found out from Mom and Dad that you were married. You didn't know how to get a letter to me."

  Holly flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry. Things have been sort of confused lately. I would have written soon."

  "Like maybe when I became an uncle. Mom tells me you're about to produce a grandchild—any minute now, from the way she talks."

  "Not until January, actually. Did they seem upset or anything?"

  "You mean because you're producing a husband and an heir almost simultaneously? Not really. You know how easygoing Dad is, and Mom is too thrilled about the baby to care. What I'd like to know is why I wasn't among those who received notice of your nuptials."

  "I did call about a week after we got mar
ried, but you weren't there." Holly sat down at the breakfast bar and twisted the phone cord nervously.

  "Have you ever heard of leaving a message?" She twisted the cord harder, hearing the hurt underlying his light tone.

  "It didn't seem like the kind of news one left in a message."

  "How about calling back? Or has your new husband forbidden you to use the phone more than once a month?"

  How could she explain that she hadn't called again because she didn't know what to say. "I've just been so busy, James. I didn't realize how much time had gone by. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner."

  "I suppose absentmindedness is something to be expected from newlyweds. Mom and Dad didn't seem to know much about the new member of the family. I take it I haven't met him?"

  "No. Mac hasn't met anyone in the family yet. Mom and Dad are coming out for Thanksgiving. I don't suppose there's any chance that you could make it home then?" Even as she said the words, she was praying he would say no. What if he returned to the States to meet her new husband and was arrested?

  "Sorry. There's no way." Holly released her breath in a silent rush of relief.

  "That's too bad." She managed to inject sincere regret into the words. "When do you think you'll be able to get home?" . "I'm not really sure. Probably not until spring."

  "Not till after the baby's born, then."

  "By the time I get to see him, he'll be past the red and wrinkled stage. I'm counting on it. That way I don't have to pretend to think that he looks terrific."

  "I can see you're going to be a devoted uncle."