Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (43 page)

She didn't mention it was for Harvest Fest. She wasn't sure how Gram would do with reminders of Gramp. It really had been a crap year for both of them.

“Very well. I will endeavor to answer the door in a timely fashion when you arrive.”

Ally laughed as she watched the Tennessee sunshine filter in through the windshield and reveal tiny dust motes in the air. “Awesome. See you then.”

It wasn't until she disconnected the call that she realized she'd need to come up with something to tell Gram about her scratching. And it had to be good because Gram—even at half-speed—understood her better than either of her parents. She also had a finely tuned BS meter.

That stopped her. What if it turned out she and Gram had more in common than a shared sense of humor and a lot of divinity? Ally was already seeing one psychologist. Maybe she'd end up needing a whole lot more than that.

Grabbing her backpack, Ally figured she'd worry about that later. For now, she was already late to her meeting. Shoving open the door, she almost hit someone.

“Watch it!” a feminine voice snapped at her.

Ally looked up from the car seat to see...Rachel Wagoner.

“Oh.” She blinked, momentarily blinded by yellow and bling. From the yellow designer handbag covered in clear sequins to the jean skirt and yellow ribbon on her long blond braid, Rachel was the most color-coordinated girl Ally had ever seen. “Sorry.”

“I think that's going to bruise.” Rachel frowned down at her thigh, where Ally must have hit her with the door.

“You came out of nowhere.” Standing, Ally locked her car.

“Not really.” Rachel frowned and pointed to the back of the parking lot near a tree line where the autumn season painted leaves as yellow as Rachel's clothes. “I just parked in the row behind you.”

Ally easily found the robin's-egg-blue sports coupe. A cool convertible was really an unfair advantage for a teenage girl since teen boys drooled over cars almost as much as they did girls.

Ethan was no exception.

“I don't think it will bruise.” Ally realized it sounded mean. But since she
wanted
to tell Rachel that it was her own damn fault if it did bruise since her skirt didn't cover enough of her thigh, Ally figured she'd made a reasonable compromise. Shifting gears, she stuffed her hand in the pocket of her jeans. “Where do you want to work?”

“Oh, my God. Are you okay?” Rachel stared at the bandage on Ally's wrist, which peeked from under her shirt sleeve when she bent her arm.

Hastily, she pulled her hand out of her pocket and yanked down the cuff with her fingers.

“Fine.” Her cheeks heated and she was sure they must be beet-red. The bandages were too big for her to fit the extra layer of friendship bracelets, so she hadn't been able to wear them since that day she'd been treated at the hospital. “Why don't we head to the maze area and take a look at the section they've marked out for the maze?”

She slung her backpack over one shoulder and started walking, not really caring if Rachel followed or not.

“You're the girl from The Strand, aren't you?” Rachel's footsteps were right behind her as they walked past pickup trucks full of hay bales and temporary fencing for the 4H exhibits. Volunteers were busy making a graveyard outside a visitor information booth that would become the haunted house.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Ally walked faster. Her healing arms itched, and not from the scabs forming under the bandages. The need to rake her fingernails over her skin was so strong she didn't know how she'd get through the afternoon.

Then again, if she couldn't find a way to control the scratching herself, her new psychologist had mentioned an arsenal of scary-sounding drugs. The worst of which was anti-seizure medication. She forced herself to be strong.

“You were at the salon the last time I came in for highlights. You had to leave.” Rachel cut her off as they rounded a corner near the bathrooms, surprising Ally with her speed. “All the stylists were really worried about you.”

“Yes. Well.” Ally stopped before they reached the area where the maze would be set up. “As you can see, there was no reason for them to worry. My hair turned out fine after all.”

She would brazen this out until the bitter end because what was her alternative? Admit to one of the most popular girls in school that she'd had a breakdown in the salon bathroom on Saturday?

“Fine. Don't admit it.” Rachel kept on walking, her leather ankle boots stirring up dust. “But I hope you're not listening to the rumors about me, because they're not true.”

It took Ally a moment to register what she was saying.

“I don't listen to rumors.” She had to hurry to catch up with Rachel who had turned her speed to overdrive.

By the time she reached her, the girl had already taken a seat on one of the donated hay bales beside the field that would be their maze. She dragged a small leather-bound notebook and an electronic tablet out of her handbag, her movements jerky and rough.

Angry.

“Sure you don't. That's why you avoid speaking to me unless you have to and even then, you act like it's a big imposition and that I'm too stupid to know when we were at the same hairdresser.”

Ally noticed a bunch of the clear sequins on Rachel's purse were caught on a piece of hay.

“Um.” She moved closer, pointing to the bag. “You're going to lose that whole row of sequins if these go.”

“Who cares? My mom will be thrilled for an excuse to buy ten more dopey glitter bags.” Rachel glared at her. “Are you ready to work so we can get this over with?”

Shouldering off her backpack and letting it fall onto the ground next to the hay bale, Ally leaned down to free the sequins before the strand attaching them broke.

“There. It's not a dopey bag. I've noticed that one in a display case at Macy's before. It's really pretty.” She didn't know what she'd done to make Rachel angry, but Ally recognized hurt-anger when she saw it.

And, maybe it was an indication of how screwed up her life was right now, but she could totally relate to hurt-anger.

Rachel pursed her lips as if she'd just tasted a lemon and continued to glare.

Ally's sympathy faded. “You know what?” Ally dropped down on the hay bale beside her. “I can do cold silences all day long, so if that's the way we're going to play it—”

“God, no.” Rachel's expression fell. “I don't think I have it in me to pull off cold silence today.” She passed her tablet to Ally. “Let's call a truce long enough to get the homework done, okay? I already started combining our plans to save us some time. Feel free to change whatever you want.”

Ally accepted the tablet, noticing Rachel had used the same algorithm program she had to calculate the angles for the walls. But now, instead of Ally's sharp sprawling fortress walls or Rachel's elaborate labyrinth, the straw maze on the screen was less complicated than either of their original plans and incorporated some of the more interesting features of each. Two turrets decorated the facade of the front wall, but the rest of the maze was open to the sky.

“Wow.” The overview angle allowed Ally to see the lines of the maze clearly, but there would be plenty of twists and turns for visitors inside the maze. “I can't believe you did all this. It's perfect.”

“It's a traditional layout, so I can't take credit for it. I just used the classic seven-circuit model instead of the more complex plan I proposed initially.” Rachel's voice sounded more relaxed. Less angry.

And even as they sat together on the hay bale planning out the maze, Ally wondered how a girl like Rachel Wagoner with a robin's-egg-blue convertible sports car could be so familiar with cold silences. Or why
she
would worry about rumors.

Ally wanted to ask her more about that, but guessed Rachel would only be offended. Why would she talk about herself when Ally hadn't answered any of Rachel's questions? Guilt stabbed at Ally while she made some adjustments to the maze design.

Ally decided she would ask Gram for advice on the Rachel situation when she went over to her house. Maybe that would distract Gram from quizzing Ally about the hospital visit. Because if Rachel hadn't spilled the secret, maybe there was still a chance that Ethan wouldn't find out. Unfortunately, just as Ally passed Rachel's tablet back to her with a few changes to the facade of the maze, two people approached them who knew all about Ally's problems. Wasn't it just her luck that Uncle Mack and her old babysitter Nina Spencer were headed their way with the cans of spray paint for marking out the maze?

CHAPTER TEN

“Y
OU
SURE
YOU
don't want a hand?” Mack looked back and forth between his niece and her classmate.

The two girls had politely accepted the wagon full of spray-paint cans and twine to mark off their maze, but they seemed more than ready to be left alone to do their work.

“Won't you have to do a lot of measuring to be sure you don't get off track with the dimensions?” Nina studied the image of the proposed maze on Rachel's tablet. She'd dropped by the fairgrounds to meet with the Harvest Fest committee earlier about the food and had stayed through the afternoon to help out with an assortment of chores that needed to be taken care of before the festival began on Friday. “It seems like this will take forever.”

Ally shook her head while the other girl, Rachel, stepped forward.

“I'm texting the final layout to a bunch of our friends.” She held up her phone for proof. “I superimposed a grid on the image and we'll each take a section to work on. It should come together pretty quickly that way since all the measurements are on each portion of the image.”

“Cool.” Ally leaned closer to the girl's phone to check it out. “What friends?”

Did Ally sound nervous, or was Mack just paranoid after the girl's episode at work? He'd watched his mother for signs of mood shifts for so long that it was second nature. He glanced toward Nina, looking to see if she was thinking along the same lines.

And since when had he fallen right back in synch with her?

“Anyone from math class with a car.” Rachel shrugged, scrolling through screens on her phone. “You know, Brad, Davy, Ethan—”

“He's in your phone, too?” Ally asked.

Definitely nervous. Nina glanced his way, her look telling him she'd heard the tension, too.

“Girls, the maze is going to be spectacular.” Nina passed the tablet back to Rachel. “Ally, can I talk to you for just one quick second before we go?

When Ally appeared unsure, Mack asked Rachel about the maze design to distract her. But the girl came to life, firing off references to European labyrinths and math formulas he'd forgotten as soon as he finished college. His head hurt by the time Nina and Ally were done with their private chat. Rachel Wagoner finished her lesson by telling him to look up the Hollywood Stone because of his family's Irish connections.

As he and Nina walked away from the girls, he heard Ally asking Rachel which piece of the grid she should take so they could begin painting. His niece seemed okay today. Grounded.

He wished he could say the same about himself. He turned his attention to the woman beside him, a woman who was still tying him up in knots half the time.

He and Nina continued along the perimeter of the fairgrounds toward the manmade pond where there would be cardboard boat races over the weekend.

“You have time for me to give you a rowboat tour?” Mack pointed to the assortment of vessels along the shore of the pond. There were two pedal boats and two rowboats. “You can fill me in on the finalized food-service plans. And you can tell me what Ally said in that secret conversation you just had with her.”

“Of course.” Nina glanced over her shoulder toward the girls. “I feel guilty I haven't made it a point to visit Ally before now. Bethany had asked me to, but I didn't realize how much the girl needed a friend or I would have made it my top priority.”

“Was Ally upset just now? I got the sense she didn't want Rachel to have anything to do with Ethan Brady.” He halted as they reached the water's edge, hoping like hell Ally was going to be okay.

How did parents cope with that kind of stress? He had no idea how Scott dealt with all the pressures of being a parent plus the knowledge that his daughter would face some of the same battles their mother had.

“Me, too.” Nina slipped out of her low-heeled leather boots while Mack checked the boat over.

She climbed in while he pushed it into the water. He smiled to himself, enjoying the simple ways they still worked in harmony. Conversations might be awkward. And the dance they were doing around the sensual chemistry was definitely a cautious interaction, but he'd be an idiot to deny the connection between them. They'd shared all their hopes and dreams at one time. You didn't just forget that experience. He'd never opened his heart to anyone as much as he had to her. No matter how much he'd loved Jenny, he'd already been burned. He'd been more defensive. Less apt to share the same kind of stuff about himself that he'd shared with Nina because she'd been his best friend before she was his girlfriend.

“So what did you say to Ally? Do you think she's...okay?”

“I just gave her a heads-up that she was wearing her heart on her sleeve as far as Ethan was concerned. I wanted to let her know because I didn't think he and Rachel were an official couple.” Nina put a hand in the water, letting her fingertips glide along the surface while he stepped into the boat. “Also, I reminded her I'd love to get together any time she wanted to talk or bake or just hang out...” She shrugged. “I doubt she'll take me up on it, but I wanted to at least put it out there.”

“That was nice of you.” Mack dipped the oars in the water and powered them forward, appreciating the workout since he hadn't found enough time for physical activity since coming back to Heartache. “I'm worried about her and I think Scott's got a lot of other things on his mind between Mom and Bethany.”

“Gram says half of parenting is worrying.” Nina winked. “So maybe you're a natural father after all.”

Mack focused on each pull of the oars through the water.

“What?” she asked. “It's probably some giant taboo for single people to talk about kids—” She paused. Straightened. “You really don't want to have a family, do you?”

“I've always been honest about that.” He'd felt the same since he was a teen. It was a decision he'd never questioned, not even when Jenny had begged him to.

“I remember.” She bit her lip. “I guess I thought you'd change your mind. Plenty of teenage guys think they'll never want to have children.”

“I discussed it with Jenny before we married and she said she didn't want kids, either. But she changed her mind two years after the wedding. It became a sticking point for her.” He wanted to keep the explanation simple. Uncomplicated. “I just know what I went through as a kid—what all my siblings went through—dealing with my mother. I don't want to give any child of mine the same experience.”

He kept rowing, focusing on the rhythmic sound of the oars knifing down into the water and pushing them across the pond.

“Medicines are much better now, you know,” Nina offered quietly, tipping her head back to the sun. “Plus, maybe you'd parent for it better considering you'd be aware of what to look for.”

“I've spent too many years already watching for the next mood swing.” Waiting for the next emotional crisis. “Besides, just because I know what to look for doesn't mean other people in the kid's life would.”

“Ally probably inherited some issues, though. And look at what a bright, high-achieving kid she is.” Nina pointed to a fish jumping out of the water.

“That's true. But she's also so stressed she's hurting herself, Nina. That's serious.”

Mack lifted the oars out of the water and let the rowboat drift as they reached the center of the pond. Nina watched him with a steady gaze, the sun finding all the lightest shades in her hair and bringing out a few freckles along her nose. He dreamed about her at night and woke up wanting her. It was becoming tougher and tougher to see her around town and not act on that.

For a moment, he wondered what this reunion might have been like if he was just a regular guy who shared her dreams of a family. Was there a chance they might have picked up where they left off?

“I know plenty of people live happy lives without children, so I won't say that you should change your mind,” she said quietly. “I'm just questioning your reasons. As a kid, I always envied your family, so the Finleys must have done something right.”

“Scott and my father worked hard to keep things together.” He didn't elaborate. Didn't feel like sharing the details of all the weeks his mother had shut herself in a room and wouldn't come out, or else talked for hours without pause, hardly sleeping. He had distance now. Perspective. And his mother's issues weren't the kind of genetic gift he was willing to pass along. The subject was closed in his book, and he'd been up front about that with Nina.

She sighed, apparently realizing the same thing.

“I got a registered letter from my runaway partner.” She propped her elbows on her knees and leaning closer. “She apologized and said she's returning the funds she took from the business account.”

Mack's brain scrambled to compute what that meant for her. For him.

“Does that change your plans to stay in Heartache?”

“No.” She shifted her feet closer to his to escape a trail of water that had dripped off the oars. “I need to be here.”

Eight years ago, he would have given anything to hear her say those words. Now, he knew it wouldn't matter for them. Whether she was here or in New York, she'd always want more from him than he would be able to give. Still, he didn't want her to suppress her dreams the way she'd suppressed her spirit.

“What about your business?” They were far enough from the shore that they couldn't be overheard, but he still kept an eye on the fairgrounds as trucks pulled in with more hay bales for the straw maze. “You've just been given the break you need to really make it a success. Won't you always wonder if you could have turned it around?”

She frowned and he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Not if I start a new business here.”

He fought the urge to tip her head up and cradle her chin in his hand. To make her listen to reason. “Nina, I listened to the dreams you had about moving to New York and making your mark on the city from the time you showed up in this town.” First, she was going to be a ballerina. Then a Rockette. Later, a chef. But she'd always dreamed big. “I know you're worried about your grandmother, but she could go to New York with you.”

“So for my own sake, I pack her up and move her away from the only home she's ever known?” She spread her arms wide in exasperation and the whole boat wobbled. “Mack, she asked me specifically to help her stay in her house since my dad is talking about sending her to assisted living. If I uproot her now to live with me a thousand miles away, how am I any better than him?”

Seeing how worried she was shredded his last defense. Normally, she was so sure of herself. He didn't stand a chance of keeping his hands off her when she needed comfort. To hell with keeping an eye on the fairgrounds.

“Because she'd be with you instead of with strangers.” He reached for her, his hand landing on her denim-clad knee. “Come on, Nina. You know it's different than your dad shuffling her off just so he can sell the house.”

Nina's parents had earned no respect from him in the few times he'd met them. First, because they'd broken their proud daughter's heart a little more every year that they all but ignored her existence. Second, because their selfishness extended to Daisy Spencer, who deserved a whole lot better.

“I can't do that to Gram.” Nina shook her head and wiped the back of her hand along her eyes even though he hadn't glimpsed even a hint of a tear. “She gave me a home and a family when I needed one more than anything. I'm not going to take that home away from her.”

Hearing the resolution in her voice, he realized he wasn't going to change her mind. Nina Spencer was coming home even if it meant letting some of her old dreams die.

“Come here.” Mack found himself tugging her closer. “By me.”

He needed to hold her and it wasn't just for his own sake, damn it. He could see what this decision had cost her. When he pulled her by the hand, she shifted positions so that she was sharing the bench seat with him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, bringing her vanilla scent near enough to inhale. She laid her head on his shoulder and it felt like...his dreams.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, allowing his lips to linger against her silky blond hair longer than he probably should have. She fit against him as though she was made for him. As though she'd never left his side. He steeled himself against that line of thinking; they had a past they couldn't change and a future they could never share. So right now, he just wanted to offer her a shoulder.

“I still say your home is wherever you make it.” He guessed her grandmother would have gone with her to New York, but he understood why Nina wouldn't ask.

“For me, maybe. But not for her. For Gram, home is where she lived with my Gramp, where she raised her son and, eventually, me. She likes being close to the fruit trees so she can make jam and pies.”

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes full of emotion. Her lips within kissing range. His gaze dipped down to her mouth. And stayed there. Just like she was staying in Heartache.

“You're really moving back here.” He realized he hadn't really let himself believe it that first night when she'd told him under the stars in his convertible. It would take a while to sink in.

“I really am.” She sounded so damn sure of it. So steady.

His heart slugged a hard rhythm against his chest, his fingers moving over her shoulder, down her upper arm along the sleeve of a silky shirt until he touched bare skin.

It was an old dream of his for her to say these things to him while he held her tight. But damn it, he didn't even want the same things anymore. Still, he'd dreamed it for so long he couldn't deny the fierce grip the moment had on him.... The thought of her here, in Heartache.

And Nashville wasn't as far away as New York... Damn it, what was he thinking?