The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie (21 page)
Read The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie Online
Authors: Bonnie K. Winn
But Frank had lost two brothers in the Vietnam war—brothers he’d also fiercely believed would return, but not in caskets. It was more difficult for him to cling to hope. And Brynn was their only tangible link with Gregory. If she fled home to Salt Lake, Ruth feared Frank’s reaction.
She also feared how Brynn would deal with being alone. Despite her apparently cold mother, Ruth had never seen anyone who needed and treasured the familial connection more than Brynn.
For both their sakes, Ruth had to keep her family together. Frank and Brynn deserved that much. Remembering Charlene Magee’s thoughtless words, Ruth knew Brynn deserved far more. And while she was at Eagle Point, she was going to get it.
Chapter Sixteen
B
rynn stared around the room that had become her own. Then her gaze rested on the half-filled suitcase. She wished she could pack away the memories and feelings she’d gathered here as easily. Although it was after ten in the evening, she was neither sleepy nor inclined to finish her packing.
rynn stared around the room that had become her own. Then her gaze rested on the half-filled suitcase. She wished she could pack away the memories and feelings she’d gathered here as easily. Although it was after ten in the evening, she was neither sleepy nor inclined to finish her packing.
Restless, she decided to take a break, knowing she could find cocoa or cider in the huge kitchens. Large enough to handle banquets, yet filled with the cozy comforts of home, the kitchen was always a welcoming place.
At first Brynn had thought it was odd that the family shared the kitchen with guests. It had seemed so impersonal. Now she appreciated the diversity. Not many people’s homes were stocked with fresh out-of-season fruit, gourmet meats and cheese, caviar, French pastries, tortes, and fresh seafood. She could nibble on shrimp salad or an exquisite napoleon. And she could also opt for pretzels and cocoa.
Pushing on the swing door at the rear of the kitchen, she was surprised when it didn’t move. Since she knew it didn’t have a lock, she pushed again.
A muffled but amused voice spoke through the thick wood. “One of us had better stop pushing or we’re never going anywhere.”
“Matt?” Dropping her hand, she stood back.
“Brynn?”
She waited. When the door didn’t move, she stepped forward, then stepped back as quickly. She didn’t particularly want the door to crash into her face.
Amusement doubled in Matt’s voice. “And if we both stand here staring at the door, waiting for it to move, we won’t get anywhere, either.”
Despite her troubled mood, Brynn’s lips quirked upward.
“Ladies first,” he urged.
Cautiously she pushed on the door, poking her head inside. “I didn’t mean to create an impasse. I just wanted some cocoa.”
“Having trouble getting to sleep?”
She shrugged. “Not exactly. Just restless, I guess.”
He met her roving eyes. “I have a better antidote.”
Seeing his eyes darken, she felt the sudden, insistent thudding in her chest. “Doing what?”
“A sleigh ride. There’s a full moon. And the horses are nipping at the bit to get out. And in a few weeks when the season opens, the sleighs will be full every night.”
The idea appealed to her. More than appealed to her. Because when those sleighs were full she wouldn’t be at Eagle Point any longer. “I’d like that.” She met his warm gaze, his lion-colored eyes. “A lot.”
For several long seconds neither of them moved. Before the moment could go further than either of them could live with, Matt stepped back. “I’ll get the sleigh ready while you grab a coat. It’s cold out.”
She tore her gaze away. “Right.” Even though she suspected that she wouldn’t feel an arctic blast at that moment, Brynn gathered her jacket, scarf, and hat.
Once outside, Matt met her at the porch, taking her arm and leading her to the horsedrawn sleigh. Matt had chosen one of the smaller sleighs, rather than one that could accommodate a group, Brynn noticed. And it was an old-fashioned delight. Long silvery runners, deeply burnished carved wood, and a leather seat with only enough room for two passengers. It was charming...and intimate.
Matt held out his hand, helping her up and onto the seat. Then he joined her, taking the reins.
“I thought the draft horses were for the sleighs,” Brynn wondered aloud, referring to the Belgian mares stabled in the barn.
“They are. But you don’t need a team for the small sleighs. Put a dozen people in one of the group sleighs and you’ve got to have a team of drafts or you won’t get any farther than the barn.
“This is like the one in ‘Jingle Bells’—a ‘one-horse open sleigh,’” she realized with pleasure.
“But we’re not ‘dashing through the snow,’” he warned. “Not at night.”
“Are we singing all the way?”
His eyes briefly met hers. “If you like.”
Despite the insistent thudding that clamored in her chest, she kept her tone light. “We could go ‘o’er the fields, laughing all the way.’”
Matt’s lips twitched as he snapped the reins and then clucked to the horse. “Wait’ll you hear the ‘bells on bobbed tails ring.’”
To her surprise they did. Delighted, she listened to the merry bells that danced in a twinkling accompaniment to the horse’s steps. “I thought things like this only existed in storybooks and black-and-white movies.”
One brow lifted. “Only black-and-white?”
“Back when romance was alive. Before cable and bigbudget films ruined it.”
“You like a little dash of Hepburn and Tracy?” he quizzed.
“And lots of Cary Grant,” she added. “Back then, romance was bigger even than the stars—the ones in Hollywood
and
the sky.”
and
the sky.”
“Not like today?”
“Definitely
not like today.”
not like today.”
“That has a distinct ring of cynicism.”
She shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
“But a strange attitude for a new bride.”
Brynn froze, then cursed her impulsive tongue. “I meant in general.”
He probed the open wound. “Then you believe in romance for yourself.”
Brynn’s eyelids flickered shut. “I’m afraid so.”
Matt clicked the reins again, only the bells on the horse’s halter breaking the silence as they rode deeper into the remote meadows. It was a still fairyland. Snow like heavy bunched cotton hung on the pine boughs and giant ice cascades sparkled in the moonlight.
Brynn shivered in the bite of the cold air and Matt withdrew a woolen blanket folded into the seat box. Stretching it out, he tucked it over their laps, still expertly driving the horse. It seemed suddenly intimate to share the bulky garment, and to be fitted beneath its heavy folds.
The light from the full moon glittered over newly fallen snow, turning the meadow into a field of diamonds. Gliding through the aspens, beneath the stars, the echo of quiet sounded in the winter hush.
It was like a moment plucked from time—from one of her daydreams. A magical moment that she didn’t want to end.
“I don’t know where city people go to think,” Matt said, finally breaking the silence. “Where do you find quiet like this?”
Brynn acknowledged the exquisite quality of the snowshrouded landscape, the unique tranquillity. “You don’t,” she answered truthfully. “You know this is one of kind. That’s why you’re here.”
Matt angled his face toward hers. “You understand.”
It wasn’t a question. It was an acknowledgement. One that spoke of the unvoiced pull between them.
Matt slowed the horse, stopping at a break that looked down on an icy mountain stream crossed by a wooden suspension bridge. Snow brushed the limbs of overhanging trees and icicles dripped from their branches. The moonlight glinted from both, illuminating the rock-strewn riverbed as the water rushed along its ancient path.
“So much beauty,” Brynn breathed, caught up in the spell of their surroundings, and of the man who filled the seat beside her.
Matt turned to her, his expression unguarded, his longing clear for her to read. “Yes.”
The simple word hung between them. A shiver, not caused by the cold, tripped through her. Instinctively she brought her bare hands together.
“Where are your gloves?” Matt asked, picking up her hands, warming them between his palms.
Brynn couldn’t answer. Overwhelmed by the strength and tenderness of his touch, she wanted nothing more than for it to continue. For him to show her exactly how he felt.
Knowing he couldn’t cross the line she had erected with lies, Brynn was trapped. Trapped into a charade that had become meaningless. Trapped into a lifetime sentence of knowing that she had to walk away from the man she loved. Or face his censure.
And because of that love, she gently withdrew her hands, unable to cause him to feel guilt. If Gregory didn’t return, Brynn couldn’t make Matt live with the knowledge that he’d betrayed his brother, not knowing whether he was dead or alive.
Despite the love she held for Matt, Brynn couldn’t wish for Gregory’s demise, and the pain it would cause all of them. Knowing now how she felt about Matt, she realized how immature and unformed her feelings for Gregory had been. Silly dreams...lonely fantasies.
Whereas this was real—a man who cared for his family, revered the legacy he’d inherited, guarded his heritage, and protectively warmed her hands beneath the moonlight. It seemed simple to see that now. But more complicated than the worst scenario even her fiction-filled mind could create.
Matt read the reasoning in her eyes. Still he hesitated, then finally picked up the reins, signaling the horse. The sleigh glided over the snow, the whistle of the runners and the jingling of the bells filling the silence that lumbered between them.
Too MANY LIGHTS WERE ON. The thought struck Matt as they approached the lodge. It seemed that every light in the place was lit and it was nearly midnight. A sudden sense of unease gripped him.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Brynn questioned as they stopped.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Gregory?” Brynn murmured.
Their gazes jerked together. twin flares of guilt flickering in their eyes. Matt bolted from the sleigh, hurriedly helping her down. Then they raced across the packed snow toward the wide double doors of the lodge.
One flung open before they reached it. “Thank God you’re back!” Miranda cried out.
“Gregory?” Matt questioned, his voice grim.
“No.”
Brynn issued a silent prayer of relief.
“It’s your father.”
Sucking in her breath, Brynn took a step toward Matt, then paused, knowing it wasn’t her place to comfort him.
Matt’s eyes locked with Miranda’s. “Is he...”
“The ambulance took him to the hospital. Your mother’s with him. The paramedic says it’s another heart attack. I wanted to go, but I couldn’t leave Heather and Andy.”
“They should be with him.” Matt spoke with the authority of the head of the family, a position he hadn’t claimed before.
“I wasn’t sure.” Miranda hesitated.
“I am. If he gets better, they’ll just be missing some sleep. If not...” He strengthened his voice. “If not, they need to be there.”
From behind Miranda, a worried-looking Heather pushed forward. “Matt? Is that you?”
“Yes, punkin.”
Heather rushed to him, seeking the shelter of his comforting embrace.
He smoothed her hair. “It’s going to be okay.”
“We’re so scared,” Heather admitted, the words punctuated with a hiccup of tears.
“I know.” Matt tucked back her hair as he confronted the tears running down her face. “But you’ve got to be strong for Dad. Now, where’s Andy? He’s going to need you, too.”
Heather lifted drenched eyes to stare at her brother. “You think so?”
“Absolutely. It’s something we pass on. You’re his big sister. Go find him and you two get dressed into something warm.”
She stumbled toward the stairs, then scampered upward. Matt turned to his aunt, seeing her ashen color. “Let’s go into the family room.”
The women followed as Matt opened the liquor cabinet, pouring three tumblers of bourbon. He handed them each a glass, then tipped his own, needing the fiery warmth. A cold pit had settled in his stomach, one that even the fine liquor couldn’t chase away.
Frank MacKenzie was the backbone of their family. Strong, understanding, a driving force in making Eagle Point what it was today. It had been difficult to watch him grow physically weak, dependent on doctors and hospitals. But it would be more difficult to watch him die.
Matt met Brynn’s concerned gaze, read the instant understanding. Believing that certain codes of honor couldn’t be bent, not even tampered with, Matt hoped he hadn’t tempted fate by wanting Brynn. Surely fate wouldn’t have repaid him by striking down his father.
Turning away abruptly, Matt slapped the glass on the bar. “We’ll take the van. I’ll go collect the kids.” He watched as the women’s gazes met. “There’s no time to waste.”
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