And suddenly she understood Carter’s frustration and anger with his father. His dad was the one person Carter couldn’t save.
“Mr. McCay, I’ve accepted your apology. But you should have spoken with Carter and tried to reason with him instead of breaking into the inn.”
He gestured with a wave of his hand. “I wasn’t planning on breaking in. I know a secret way onto the property, and I take me a visit every so often. Then it started storming real hard. I got mad as hell being locked out of that place and all. It should have been mine in the first place, but my son decided to get bullheaded. Damn it.”
He worked himself up in anger, and Macy sat back in her chair, uneasy. Rocky sat at attention by her side, and she laid her hand on his back, stroking him gently.
“I’d like to help you, Mr. McCay, but you can’t go sneaking onto Carter’s property anymore. And you can’t take Rocky again, either.”
“I didn’t take him. He followed me home.”
“Mr. McCay,” Macy said with a stern but soft voice. “I told you about my father’s drinking problem. I’ve heard all the excuses and all the lies. You can’t fool me. You took Rocky. You have to promise me you won’t do that again.”
Head down, he shrugged his shoulders. “I miss the ole boy.”
“You miss Carter.”
His eyes flashed. He began to shake his head in denial, but Macy looked straight at him, refusing to let him get away with anything but the truth.
Riley backed down and sat in silence.
Macy reached across the table and laid her hand gently on his arm. “If you want to see Rocky or your son, all you have to do is call Carter.”
“That boy doesn’t want to see me.”
“He would, if you started acting like his father. Maybe you could-”
A car pulled up and Macy lifted her head to peer out the window. It wasn’t Henry or Bill Fargo. Darn. It was Carter, and he wasn’t out for an afternoon stroll. He bounded out of the car and barged straight into the house through the unlocked door. His eyes blazed hot fury when he saw her sitting at the kitchen table with his father. His voice tight, he spoke through gritted teeth. “Macy, damn it. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Riley rose from his seat, unbending his body to stand as tall as Carter. “Now, boy. Don’t you go talking to Macy that way.”
Carter ignored his father. He glanced at Rocky by Macy’s side and his jaw twitched. Normally, the dog would have raced over to him, tail wagging, sniffing at his boots. But Carter’s sharp tone kept the dog frozen in place. “I’m asking you, Macy. What are you doing here?”
“I’m having a glass of tea with your father.” She tipped her chin.
Carter glanced at the empty table and arched a brow. “Really? Are you acting it out? Because I don’t see any tea.”
“I was just about to get the pitcher out,” Riley said. “Why don’t you sit down a spell?”
Carter looked at his father as if he’d sprouted wings. “For
Riley frowned and took his seat, folding his arms. “Fine with me,” he said stubbornly.
Carter focused on Macy again. “How’d you get here?”
Mara had driven her across town under slight protest until Macy had explained it was all in her plan to get Carter and Riley speaking again. It turned out that Mara was an old softy at heart, so she’d agreed for both the men’s sakes. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” His face burned with recrimination.
Macy sucked in a breath. She wouldn’t let him bully her, though she had a sinking feeling her idea was going down faster than a pinpricked balloon. She looked straight at him and shook her head.
Carter stared at her a long time. Then he blinked once as if banking his anger. “Let’s go.”
Macy rose from her seat, fearful she’d gotten in over her head. She’d never seen Carter behave so hurtfully. She braced her hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward to make her point. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, Carter. I’m staying to have iced tea with Riley.”
Something flashed in his eyes. “Fine. You stay if that’s what you want. Rocky comes home with me.”
“He’s my dog.” Riley’s voice rose in indignation.
Carter clenched his jaw, his impatience almost tangible. “You lost your right to him,
Carter changed his tone when he crouched down and called to Rocky. “C’mon, boy.”
Rocky got up and ambled toward him. The poor dog looked confused, but once he reached Carter he was lavished with a few loving pats on the head and all was peachy in dog world.
Carter strode to the door and then turned to Macy. A shiver ran up her spine from the cold, unyielding look he cast her. “I’ll send a car for you in an hour.” He glanced at the threadbare kitchen, the masked filth in the other rooms along with the broken furniture. Then on a deep frustrated sigh, he walked out taking Rocky with him.
Macy watched him get in the car and pull away. She slammed her eyes shut and was hit with a hard dose of reality.
She hadn’t helped matters. She’d probably just made things worse.
Carter was nowhere around when she returned to the house. Soft, late-evening light cast her bedroom in relaxing hues, and the hot, humid air had finally cooled down a bit with the help of the air-conditioning, but Macy wasn’t feeling calm or comforted at the moment. She still believed that Carter’s relationship with his father could be saved, but she might have gone about trying to fix it in the wrong way. Judging by the look she’d witnessed in his eyes when he’d walked out of Riley’s house, Carter thought of her as a traitor.
He was the last person she’d ever want to betray. Macy had his best interests at heart, but she may have overstepped boundaries in trying to help.
“You blew it, Macy,” she said to herself.
She should have taken Bill Fargo’s advice.
Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be feeling so miserable right now.
She glanced at the large manila envelope sitting on the top of the dresser and let out a quiet groan. She’d been deliberately ignoring it since the darn thing had arrived. She should open it, she really should. But going over more legal mumbo jumbo didn’t appeal to her at the moment. It reminded her too much of losing her mother and the financial mess she’d been in. It reminded her too much that she didn’t really belong at Wild River. She wanted to pretend a little longer that she did.
She sank down on her bed, feeling lonely and heartsick and not at all ready to face the night by herself. When her cell phone rang, Macy snapped her head up and looked toward her purse sitting on her nightstand. Only a handful of people knew her number. She rose from the bed, grabbing her phone from the deep recesses of her handbag, and before the third ring, peeked at the screen. She smiled when she saw the call was from Avery. She was just the friend she needed to talk to tonight.
“Hi, Av,” she said. Her shoulders relaxed. Tension oozed out of her the second she heard Avery’s voice on the other end of the receiver.
“Hello, Macy.”
“Oh boy, how’d you know I needed a friend right now?”
“I guess because I need one, too. We must be on the same wavelength.”
“Usually that’s a good thing,” Macy said. “But, it doesn’t sound like you’re too happy right now. What’s the matter?”
“I’m a little upset. It’s nothing too drastic, but there’s this persistent man-”
“Already, it sounds interesting,” Macy said. Avery had led a sheltered life. She could use a little excitement, whereas Macy had the opposite problem. Her life was anything but boring. “Go on.”
