and the relentless paparazzi-was something she didn’t want to dwell on. Not when she found it easier and easier to sink into life at Wild River.
She strode to the old gazebo. Her heart warmed every time she looked at it. The eternal optimist in her saw this gazebo restored to its one-time elegance. And as long as she was being hopeful, she imagined it as a glorious outdoor stage for a summer playhouse theater with her at the helm. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?
Bill Fargo stepped up. He’d been meeting her at the house every afternoon since that time when they’d shared a glass of iced tea. It had gotten to be such a routine that when Macy packed her small cooler, she always brought enough lemonade, cookies or fruit for two.
“Ready for a break, Bill?”
“I am.”
“I brought Mara’s lemon cookies today.”
“My stomach’s grumbling already.”
Macy retrieved the cooler from the house, and they sat on the gazebo’s steps this time. Rocky nuzzled Bill’s knee, and he began stroking the dog’s coat. Rocky liked Bill and so did Macy, though she didn’t know very much about him.
“Did I ever tell you how I met the woman of my dreams and told her flat out, on that first night, we were destined for each other?”
Macy shook her head, the whole time smiling. Bill told the best stories. “No, but it sounds romantic.”
“It was back then. We were both in our twenties. We didn’t know each other at all. I saw her laughing in a group of my friends. I walked right up to her and we were introduced. It was 1972 and I was just out of college. Oh, her laugh was wonderful. I knew then, I was going to marry her. I told her that night. She thought I was crazy.” Bill got a distant look on his face, as if reliving the moment. “When you know, you know.”
Macy’s encounters with love were nowhere close to that. She’d probably never been truly in love before. She didn’t have a good track record with the few men whom she’d thought she’d loved. She’d forgotten them pretty easily. And her mother? She’d had disastrous results in the love department, so Macy was curious at what Bill Fargo had meant.
“But
But his answer was interrupted when Carter pulled up to the inn and bounded out of the Jeep. Rocky took off, racing toward him, and the cowboy bent to give the dog several loving pats on the head. Then he strode over to them. The sight of him got Macy’s heart pumping hard.
“Hey there,” he said to them both.
They returned the greeting and Carter took a seat to the right of Macy, sandwiching her in between the two men. “Thought I’d stop by and see the progress.”
“It’s coming along,” Macy said.
“Macy’s doing a fine job. I’ve been checking on the house every day, and the transformation is outstanding,” Bill added.
Carter nodded, then glanced at the opened cooler. “Those cookies for anyone in particular?”
“Mara made them. Want one?”
Carter grinned. “Does the sun shine?”
Macy handed him a cookie. “The rooms are all painted, and I think you’ll like what you see in there.”
“Okay.” He didn’t seem all that interested. “Glad you used the McManus brothers?”
“Yes. They’re very good painters. Thanks for the recommendation.”
“You’ll find that true of most the workmen in Wild River. They need the jobs. It means putting food on the table and keeping their kids clothed. They take pride in their work.”
After a few minutes of jawing, as Carter would say, Bill rose and thanked Macy for the cookies then excused himself to get back to his rounds.
Carter finally bit into his cookie, and his face lit up. “These are better than I remembered.” He finished one and then took another from the batch. Then matter-of-factly, he asked, “You coming to dinner tonight?”
“Oh, I uh…” With the back of her hand, she brushed curls away from her forehead, buying time to think. She’d deliberately kept her distance from Carter, working late and missing meals with him. Humiliation was a hard thing to recover from, and after nearly throwing herself at him, she’d wanted to dig herself a hole and jump in. But she’d also been a little miffed at him, too. He wasn’t interested in her, and he’d made that abundantly clear. “Why do you ask?”
His shoulder went up in a shrug. Could it be he missed having dinner with her? “I have a craving for barbecue pork ribs. I thought maybe you’d like to try them. There’s this little place outside of town… They make ribs you’d sell your grandmother’s soul for.”
His devotion to food made her chuckle. “Really?”
He sent her a sincere smile. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Except for a few quick trips into town for clothes and supplies, Macy hadn’t ventured off the ranch. The idea excited her. “Sure, I’d love to go. But I’ll need an hour to shower and change.”
He nodded. “You might want to disguise yourself a little. The Bear Pit has a crowd every night.”
Macy had a surefire way to keep people from recognizing her in a small Texas town. “Don’t worry. I have the best disguise ever. I’ll use it tonight.”
Carter had showered and dressed in twenty minutes, then spent the rest of the time waiting for Macy in his office while going over the payroll accounts. He checked his watch just as his stomach complained. Macy was taking longer than the hour she’d asked for and patience wasn’t his best virtue, especially when he was hungry.
Carter got to thinking about his marine buddy, Roark Black, and wondered what the hell kind of trouble he was in. He hadn’t received another text from him yet, so yesterday Carter decided to text him to let him know he’d contacted Ann Richardson about the Gold Heart Statue. He’d kept his message vague, but it was enough to let Roark know he’d done what he’d asked. Whatever his friend was caught up in, he hoped to high heaven Roark would find his way out safely.
When Carter heard voices in the parlor, he rose from his desk abruptly. “Finally.”
He strode out of his office, his mind now on Pit’s Blue Plate Special, a slab of ribs coated with whiskey sauce, mashed potatoes and creamed corn along with the best darn buttermilk biscuits in the whole county. He could almost taste it already. When he reached the door to the great room, he stopped up short.
A woman dressed in a soft paisley blouse tucked into a tan skirt and tall leather boots stood speaking with his cousin Brady. The woman’s back was to him, but her long hair hung down her back straight and smooth, parted down the middle. The two were laughing, and Carter thought for a moment that he’d interrupted a private conversation.
What was Brady doing here?
His cousin hadn’t noticed him. His attention was focused solely on the woman.
Then Carter realized his mistake. That wasn’t just some woman. It was Macy. And she was having a grand time with Brady. The devil of it was that Brady was enjoying her attention,
Carter’s gut clenched and emotion poured over him like hot oil. When Macy turned his way, she tilted her head slightly, acknowledging him. “Here’s Carter now.”
He blinked and shook his head. He couldn’t believe the transformation. Macy looked like an entirely different woman with stick-straight hair. Every curl was gone, replaced by a plank of black hair tied loosely with a band at her nape. She’d done something to her face, too, drowning out her natural color with makeup or something.
Brady shot him a grin, and Carter wasn’t proud of the jealousy bouncing around inside. He couldn’t forget the reason for Jocelyn’s rejection: she’d loved Brady and not him. And now, seeing Brady and Macy smiling together was like a shot through his heart. Shouldn’t be so. He didn’t have feelings for Macy.
But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to her.
Kissing her had convinced him of that.
But jealousy?
“Brady, what are you doing here?”
