The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie (23 page)

Read The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie Online

Authors: Bonnie K. Winn

BOOK: The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie
7.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“I do, too,” Brynn admitted. “I look at the pictures in the wedding album and I see strangers.” She lifted troubled eyes. “But that doesn’t excuse what I’ve done.”
“I know we’ve been playing on your guilt, telling you how much the family needs you. The truth is—Matt needs you. He’s facing the biggest crisis of his life. I don’t think he can handle having you leave in the middle of it.”
“But ultimately I’ll just hurt everyone that much more.”
“We can’t think about ‘ultimately’—it’s all we can do to live through today. Can you give them that much more?”
Brynn bent her head. “I don’t know why you’re doing this. You should be angry.”
Miranda clasped Brynn’s shoulder. “Sometimes families aren’t born—they’re made. From love and hope and caring. You’ve shown all that for us—however things started. So, you see, you are one of our own.”
“Oh, Miranda!”
“Then you’ll stay?”
Brynn swiped at her moist eyes. “You’re hard to refuse.”
Miranda cleared her suspiciously gruff voice, then patted her hair—set in a softer style since she’d met Edward. Chasing away their tears, she grinned. “That’s what all the fellas say.”
Chapter Eighteen
F
rank MacKenzie looked exhausted but pleased as he settled into his own room at Eagle Point. The long journey from the critical-care unit to regular patient care, and finally home, had been an arduous one; yet he had never complained. Although a donor had not yet been found, he’d had surgery—a balloon procedure that had bought him time.
And he was responding better to this surgery than his previous one, surprising everyone by returning home in less than two weeks.
Everyone had hovered at first, but Frank had put a quick end to that. “
I’m not at my best, but I’m also not at death’s door. You can quit fussing over me because it makes me think you’re all waiting in line to be the doorman. Now, can we act normal?”
His irreverent words had startled them out of their oversolicitous behavior. And, things had returned to normal—or as close to it as possible, with the worry never far from their minds.
Brynn almost confessed a dozen times, but Frank’s weakened condition, coupled with the hope on everyone’s faces, stopped her. She’d come too far to literally pull the plug on Frank.
Restless, on the edge, she’d thrown herself into the preparations for opening day of the season, volunteering for every job, large or small. She supposed it was some sort of penance—or escape. But she couldn’t remain in her room, surrounded by her guilt.
Although she gave her comic strip ample attention, each time she thought about her self-imposed hibernation, she cringed, then found another job to volunteer for. And as she worked she hoped she could forget the ever-growing tangle of lies.
 
MIRANDA WAS BUSY MAKING last-minute changes, then approving the final Thanksgiving menu. Tomorrow was the biggest day of the year for Eagle Point. Ruth had turned the responsibility for the day’s celebrations over to Miranda, her own concern over Frank’s precarious condition paramount.
Guests had been arriving all week, many of them the previous day. The lodge and all the cottages were packed. As were all the ski runs. Even though the season officially opened the following day, lifts were operational.
The day had dawned beautifully. Clear, sunny, with an abundance of the greatest snow on earth. Powder fanatics had hit the slopes, their enthusiasm spilling over to the employees. Traditionally, it had been a day charged with hope and enthusiasm. Today was no different—except that Miranda’s hope centered around her brother.
Since their father’s death he had been the constant in her life, the only man she’d been able to count on. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she lost him. And despite his stopgap surgery, she was terrified that he’d lose this battle.
Brynn knocked, then poked her head inside the office doorway. “Am I interrupting?”
“Of course not.” Miranda studied Brynn’s pale face, the shadows that ringed her eyes, the worry that never left her expression. “I thought you were resting.”
Brynn slipped into the chair facing Miranda’s desk. “I can’t sleep.”
None of them slept well these days. “You won’t help Frank by falling apart. Ruth is counting on us to keep things running smoothly.” Purposely Miranda gentled her voice, knowing the guilt that ate at Brynn. “Matt has everything under control, but she and Frank were always the glue that held everything together. I’m afraid you’ve been drafted without hope of leave.”
“I like helping out. I guess I’m just overwhelmed by how fast everything is happening.” How quickly Matt had insisted on her signature. Papers she’d shakily signed, certain she was dooming herself with each stroke of the pen.
“This isn’t the kind of family that sits on the sidelines. Once you’re a MacKenzie so to speak, you’re sucked in. After a while you forget the time when you weren’t a part of the family.”
That was painfully true. “Have you heard any news about a donor?”
“Not yet, but I know we’ll hear soon. Frank wasn’t meant to leave us this soon.” Her lips trembled before she firmed them. “He can’t abandon an old spinster like me.”
Brynn’s heart went out to the woman who now ached from two fresh hurts; a woman who’d stood by Brynn even though she didn’t deserve it. “He won’t.”
A sudden knock on the door startled them.
“Come in,” Miranda called out.
Edward West filled the doorway, shocking both women.
Brynn recovered first, quickly rising from her chair. As Edward approached Miranda, Brynn darted toward the door. Glancing between them quickly, she disappeared.
“Edward?” Miranda’s voice was shaky and she firmed it. “You should have told me you were coming for Thanksgiving. Reservations have been flying in. We’re all booked up.”
“I found that out last week when I called. But I’m not here for Thanksgiving.”
“You’re not?”
“I would have been, but I couldn’t get a room. I’m here because of Frank.”
Miranda’s voice quivered. “You are?”
“I know how close you two are. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
Hope trembled. “You didn’t?”
“If you’ll come out from behind that desk I’ll show you.”
In a moment she was in his arms, her head buried against his shoulder. “I wasn’t sure you’d be back.”
“Neither was I.”
She lifted her head cautiously, studying his face.
He took her hand, absently encircling each finger. “I wasn’t sure I was ready to let go of Sylvia’s memory. We were married for thirty-two years. It’s not easy to shut the door on such an important part of your life. Then I told myself I could just come out for Thanksgiving—that it didn’t have to mean anything—and I found that I was too late to get a reservation. I called yesterday and heard about Frank. I didn’t want to be too late again. And I don’t mean for a room.”
Miranda wanted to simply accept his words. But she couldn’t. “I can’t keep having...interludes. I care about you, more than I thought I ever could. But I can’t bear to keep watching you walk away, taking little pieces of me with you until there’s nothing left.”
Edward planted his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want to walk away. That’s why I’m here, to ask if you’ll consider having me...for the rest of our lives.”
Miranda could hardly hear over the thundering in her heart and the joy singing in her consciousness. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
“I’m asking you to be my wife. I love you, Miranda.”
Their kiss was a seal of commitment, and the fluttering promise of tomorrow.
Watching through the glass door of Miranda’s office, Brynn found a tear trembling in her eyes. A hopeless romantic, she rejoiced in the happiness she saw shining in their faces, grateful her interference hadn’t cost Miranda this well-deserved joy.
Each MacKenzie had found a special niche in her affections. Aching with the knowledge of how empty she would be without those connections, Brynn turned away, hoping this holiday would truly bring a Thanksgiving for the family. Knowing that what she wished for would mean Gregory’s return and her subsequent unveiling, she looked for the courage to face both.
 
BRYNN STARED IN fascination as the trail groomers defied the darkness to smooth the trails, tilling and moving snow, leveling the bumps, and covering the bare spots. The operation would go on all night as they groomed each trail before morning so that the skiers would wake to picture-perfect runs.
But now the grooming machine was completing the steep grade that Brynn was observing—me one that would be used for night skiing.
Surface hoar crystals glimmered in the oblique light. As Brynn watched, euphoric skiers lined up at the top of the run. With headlamps beaming they began their descent, chasing one another through the sparse pines, around the curves and over the creek crossings.
The moon rose over the resort, the ail-encompassing soft white light adding its extraordinary glow. Torchlights crystallized in the air, outlining the winding trail.
Moonlight powder-skiing.
It was enchanting, it was awesome. It was romantic.
Brynn shivered in the evening air, wishing for a strong, warm body to be seated next to hers. And it wasn’t just anybody’s body she wanted. She wanted one particular man to share this aura of romance.
As though in response to her silent bidding, a shadow darkened the bench she sat on. An accelerated heartbeat told her it was Matt. Lifting her eyes, she beckoned him to join her.
As he did, her loneliness vanished.
Matt was quiet, watching the gentle dance of the skiers, their sure waltz as they descended the slope. “I never get tired of watching this,” he finally said. “In some ways it’s better than being part of it.”
“What’s night skiing like?” she asked, wanting to hear his voice, to hold it close.
“When the moon’s full, the light refracts on the cratered beacon and it drifts over the mountainside, making it seem brighter than a summer day.”
Her eyes smiled for her. “That sounds wonderful...very poetic.”
Matt held her gaze. “If the moon sinks above the cliff, we ski blind. Not so wonderful. And sometimes we seem like the shadows of ghosts.” His teeth flashed white in the darkness. “But mostly it’s like flying in your sleep.”
“That sounds nearly as difficult as catching stars.”
His tawny eyes roved over her face, resting on the bow of her mouth, then searching for the telltale pulse at her throat. “And as invigorating.”
“Do many things invigorate you?” she asked, urged on by the full moon to be daring.
His gaze zeroed in on hers. “More things than you could know.”
She took her heart and placed it in his hands. “You might be surprised at what I know...and what I want.”
Pain obviously battled with desire. “We can’t always have what we want.”
“Even if we want it badly enough?” she whispered, only a breath away from him.
“Sometimes that makes it more impossible.”
The hard line of his body pressed into hers, his muscular thighs comforting and tantalizing her at the same time. She wanted to shout the truth, flail at the unfairness of their situation. Instead she tilted her head, allowing herself the pleasure of resting it on his shoulder, drawing comfort from his presence.
Unable to stop himself, Matt stroked the sweep of her long, dark hair. In his mind he saw her silhouetted in the moonlight, her naked alabaster body belonging to him. Bending to breathe in the scent of her hair, he knew those dreams would remain in his thoughts—just as she would remain forever out of reach.
Snow fell gently from the sky, giant flakes that brushed their skin, collected on the slope, dusting the skiers as they wove down the course.
Matt watched for the opening-night fireworks he knew would start momentarily. A burst of color suddenly flared, followed immediately by others, splashing across all the quadrants of the sky. The falling stars and ribbons were brilliantly defined at first. Then they blurred with the falling snow, creating slanted rainbows, fractured blooms.
Watching pyrotechnics while it snowed was a rare event—one Matt had hoped he would share with Brynn. He could see the beauty through her eyes...and in her eyes.
The fireworks continued to light up the sky, sounding off the silent cliffsides, echoing their unspoken thoughts—and illuminating their need.
Chapter Nineteen
T
he morning of Thanksgiving Day at Eagle Point lived up to all its promise. Excited skiers clattered down the stairs, filled the dining room for an early breakfast, then attacked the freshly dusted slopes. While no one was glued to a television set watching the Macy’s Day parade, there was no mistaking it was “turkey day.”
The tang of ginger, cloves and cinnamon from baking pumpkin pies floated out to tantalize the appetite. The chef and his staff had been baking all night. Rows of turkeys were lined up on the counters like plucked soldiers waiting their turn. Onions and celery sautéing in butter promised dishes of well-seasoned dressing. Several pounds of cranberries came to a boil, ready to be added to a rum-raisin concoction. Flaky croissants, dinner rolls and loaves of bread lent their yeasty aroma to the ambience.
Accustomed to a pared-down version of the holiday, Brynn was charmed by all the preparations and bustle. While she doubted the Pilgrims boasted skis, state-of-the-art boots, and designer ski wear, there was a true Thanksgiving spirit.
The family gathered in midafternoon for their celebration, allowing enough time for the lunch crowd to disperse and plenty of time before exhausted skiers gave in to the encroaching darkness and their appetites. Many of the hearty revived on dinner and then returned for night skiing. And the MacKenzies wanted time for the family in between.
A golden-brown bird decorated the center of the table and all of the accompaniments crowded every other available inch. No employees assisted in serving the meal since it was also an Eagle Point tradition for the employees and their families to congregate in the large banquet room for an identical dinner. A skeleton staff kept the main dining room operational, but even they took turns dropping in at the employee celebration.
So the MacKenzie table was intimate, with everything served family style in bowls and serving dishes Brynn was told had come west in covered wagons. All the tradition both overwhelmed and warmed her. Although she had a few precious mementos from her grandmother, there was little she could claim as family heritage. Brynn pictured her mother, no doubt outfitted in the latest ski wear, swooshing down the slopes with her latest young lover. Hardly a Norman Rockwell image.
A knot formed in her throat as Brynn thought of giving up warm moments like this; of not sharing more days with Matt; of walking out of his life forever.
As if in unspoken agreement, her eyes met his.
Although they were all grateful for Frank’s shaky presence at the table, Brynn noticed that Matt, too, was quiet. Feeling their time ticking away as though a pendulum marked each second, she sensed a desperation hovering darkly over the gay voices and happy chatter that ringed the table.
The wide double doors leading into the dining room were closed in order to keep the public out. Only the serving door to the kitchen was ajar. So when the double doors were suddenly flung open, everyone at the table reacted in startled confusion.
“Surprise!”
Silence filled the room before a babble of excitement and cries of joy erupted as nearly everyone jumped from their chairs.
Gregory stood at the entrance, as big as life. His mother, aunt, sister, and youngest brother hung all over him like birds on a scarecrow. Frank rose painfully to his feet, not bothering to check the tears that silently ran down his cheeks as he embraced his oldest son.
Brynn met Matt’s eyes, saw the indecision there before he, too, rose to hug his brother, then pound his arm in an age-old gesture of affection. Only Brynn remained rooted to her chair.
Well, the jig is up,
she told herself.
And the reckoning is now.
She tried to summon up some of the feelings she’d had for Gregory—the hopeless infatuation that had fueled so many fantasies. But nothing stirred.
The MacKenzies took turns hugging Gregory, then hugging him again, before examining him, commenting on his thinness, then hugging him again. Brynn knew she should be happy for them. And in a strange, detached corner of her emotions, she was. But her joy for them was overwhelmed by her own despair.
Wishing she could escape, disappear into a quiet puff of invisible smoke, Brynn had to sit quietly since both entrances were blocked. The main door was filled with the family, the kitchen door blocked by beaming staff dying to share the special moment.
As the babble lowered to a mild roar, Gregory glanced around the room. When his puzzled gaze landed on her, Brynn straightened her spine, calling on her courage, wondering where the bottom of her stomach had disappeared to.
“Who—” Gregory began.
But Miranda clasped his arm, enfolding him in another hug. “You rootten boy. You’ve worried me sick.”
“Aunt Mir, you’re just put out because I didn’t send you chocolates from Paris like I promised.” Gregory’s smile flashed, lighting his handsome face, and gave her a tight hug.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” Ruth demanded, sniffing away happy tears.
“I swore the State Department and my firm to secrecy. Thought it would be a nice holiday surprise.” As he spoke, Gregory glanced meaningfully at his father.
Frank returned his gaze with a steady look of his own. “Now we truly have something to be thankful for.”
Gregory clasped his father’s shoulder. “We all do.” From the telling gesture, it was clear that Gregory had learned about Frank’s close call and his still-precarious situation.
Turning back to the table, Gregory’s gaze landed again on Brynn. “You’ll have to intro—
“Gregory!” Miranda practically shrieked. “I know you barely got here, but I need to drag you away for a minute.” Not allowing him to answer, she literally tugged him through the doorway.
A chorus of voices protested.
“Miranda! But Brynn hasn’t even—”
“Won’t be a minute,” Miranda called out cheerily, slamming the dining-room doors.
Gregory walked along with her, a look of concern on his face. “Auntie Mir, are you okay?”
“That stands to be seen,” she replied, guiding him across the lobby to the library, leading him inside and then locking the door.
“Another kidnapping?” he joked.
But she took his hands, ignoring his light tone. “You know I love you dearly, Gregory. You’ve always been very special to me—my favorite nephew, in fact.”
He nodded.
“Even though you’re one of the most selfish people on earth.”
Gregory pursed his lips. “This isn’t
exactly
the homecaming I’d envisioned.”
“I’d break this to you gently, but there’s a roomful of people in there—not to mention a turkey waiting to be carved—that demand immediate attention. So here’s the scoop.”
Quickly she outlined Brynn’s appearance in their lives, the reason, and her subsequent attachment to all of them and their attachment to her. “So you see,” Miranda concluded. “You can’t go in there and just blow everything.”
“I don’t want to sound selfish, but it sounds like she set herself up for this fall,” Gregory replied.
Miranda shook her head as she stared at him. “The fact that this all began because Brynn thought she was in love with you didn’t even make a dent, did it?”
Without waiting for his answer, she continued: “But then, you’ve led your life with thoughts of only yourself—not that I’m suggesting you’re the bad seed—but being self-centered makes it hard to see something through another person’s eyes.”
The expression on Miranda’s face firmed as she went on. “You left Eagle Point without a care, dumping the entire load on Matt. Without asking you for help, he shouldered all the responsibilities, while watching firsthand as your father deteriorated day by day.”
Gregory hung his head for a moment. “I knew he was sick—I just didn’t know how seriously until the State Department briefed me.”
“You’d have known if you’d been in touch more. But Matt knew. And he still didn’t ask for your help—even though by tradition the responsibility belongs to the oldest son. Matt knew your dream wasn’t tied into Eagle Point so he didn’t burden you—because he loves you.”
Gregory had the grace to look embarrassed. “Aunt Mir, you talk like I don’t care about him.”
“I know you do. But you’ve got to know something else. Matt’s in love. With Brynn.”
Gregory’s mouth opened, then echoed with hollow laughter. “You’re kidding.”
“No. And she loves him.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“That’s exactly what it isn’t.” Miranda leveled him with a look he recognized from childhood. “And even though Matt fell in love with her, he did everything in his power to facilitate your release. He called out every favor, every card in his deck.”
“His friend in the State Department,” Gregory murmured. “I heard his name, knew my case had been given priority status, but I didn’t think...”
“Matt.” Miranda filled in the blank. “Despite how he feels about Brynn, he never stopping working to get you home. And he never let himself step over the line with the woman he thought was your wife.”
Gregory shrugged. “Well, now that I’m home and everybody knows we’re not married, they’ve got free rein.”
“Hardly.”
Gregory stared at his aunt. “Why not?”
“Because Matt and the rest of the family will think Brynn deceived them.”
“Well, she did.”
“How can you be so smart in business and so dense in life?”
“I hope there’s a good part coming, because frankly I can’t take much more of your enthusiastic welcome.”
She swatted his arm. “You know damn well how glad I am you’re safe. Now shut up.”
Gregory rolled his eyes.
“It’s up to you to get Matt and Brynn out of this impossible situation.”
He lifted his brows. “You got any ideas about how to do that?”
“Well, of course. I can’t leave all the planning up to you.”
“I’m guessing you’ve given this some thought. Which means you figured out the truth. Why didn’t you nail Brynn?”
“Because she’s a love. She’s sensitive, sweet, charming and genuine. And she needs us as much as we needed her. She kept your father going and because of it, we all blackmailed her into staying, playing on her soft nature. She doesn’t deserve to lose everything. And Matt doesn’t deserve to lose her.”
Gregory sighed. “Okay. So what’s the plan?”
 
By THE TIME THE DOUBLE doors opened again, Brynn was ready to bolt from the table as though jet-propelled. Feeling like a prisoner being led to the gallows, she watched as Gregory approached. She swallowed, waiting for the noose to tighten.
Instead, Gregory picked up her hand and kissed it lightly. “Brynn, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I’m not sure—”
“It couldn’t have been easy, pretending to be my wife.”
Brynn froze, afraid to look at the others.
“But you knew how important it was and the plan worked. You convinced everyone you really were my wife.”
Darting a glance around the table, Brynn saw the stunned amazement on everyone’s faces, the betrayal etched on Matt’s. She tried to speak.
But Gregory wasn’t through. “By convincing everyone you were my wife, you kept my real fiancée safe. Despite the State Department’s precautions, she wouldn’t have been completely protected from the kidnappers if they’d believed she was still my fiancée.” He smiled easily, enjoying his role. “Of course, that’s why we had to go through with the wedding photos, having some of them published in the paper. South American connections in this country are strong. She could have been snatched at any moment. I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving her life.”
The MacKenzies continued to stare, unable to take in the information, unable to process what it meant. From the corner of the room, Miranda sent Brynn a discreet thumbs-up. Of course, her ally.
It was an easy way out. A graceful escape that could allow her to salvage her relationship with the family and perhaps begin one with Matt. But it was a lie. And if living with Charlene Magee had taught Brynn anything, it was that a life based on a lie was worth nothing. Less than nothing if you spent the rest of that life chasing happiness that would always remain elusive.
Slowly Brynn withdrew her hands, then met Gregory’s eyes. “Thank you. I’m not sure why you did this, but I have a pretty good idea.” Briefly she looked at Miranda. “And I appreciate your trying to save me from my own deception, but your family deserves the truth.”
Slowly she lifted her head, her gaze gliding around the room, touching on the faces that had become so familiar, so dear. When she reached Matt’s, she faltered for a moment. Then she began, knowing she had to before her courage deserted.
“Part of what Gregory told you is true. I’m not his wife. But he wrapped the reasons for my tricking you into a pretty package. It’s not pretty, though. I didn’t pretend to be his wife to save his fiancée. I’m not even sure he has a fiancée. You see, I fell in love with an illusion—Gregory’s illusion. It certainly wasn’t his fault.” Her saddened voice faltered. “I doubt he ever knew I existed. But I built this fantasy world around him, believing one day he would know me. That’s why I had the wedding album made. It was just supposed to be my silly little secret. I never dreamed the photographer would send you a copy.”

Other books

Elyon by Ted Dekker
Lhind the Thief by Sherwood Smith
From Here to Paternity by Jill Churchill
The Blue Hammer by Ross Macdonald
The Masada Complex by Azrieli, Avraham
Killer Charm by Linda Fairstein
Sweet Danger by Violet Blue
Occam's Razor by Mayor, Archer