Macy pulled off the Post-it note and saw her mother’s handwriting beneath. She had the most unique style of writing, with perfectly spaced vertical lettering that could be mistaken for typeset, it was so symmetrical.
Macy took a big swallow and stared at the envelope she held in her lap, touching the edges with shaky fingertips. The letter had obviously been mixed up with her mother’s business papers. For all she knew, it was a grocery list or lines in a new script she’d wanted Macy’s opinion on. It could be a receipt for a gift she’d given Macy. It could be a hundred frivolous things, and part of Macy hoped that was the case. But the other part, the one that gave her stomach the trembles and caused her nerves to jump, told her this was something important.
“Open it, you coward,” Macy murmured as she continued to stare at the envelope.
Macy found the strength to gently pull the flap away from the glued edge of the opening. On a deep breath, she lifted out the stationery that had been creased in thirds. She unfolded it and saw a full page written by Tina.
“Mom,” Macy said, tears welling in her eyes.
She noted the date. Her mother had written this letter during the time of her illness, in those last few days of her life.
Macy shook again with renewed force. Her tears were ready to fall. It wasn’t the letter so much as the shock of seeing her mother’s handwriting again and knowing this would be the very last communication she would have from her. She’d already done this, she thought. And it was hard to say goodbye. Now, she would have to do it again.
She forced herself to read the words so delicately and perfectly written.
Tears blurred Macy’s vision and trickled onto her cheeks as she sobbed quietly. She set the letter aside and lowered her head down, covering her face with her hands. The devastating pain that touched her soul was overwhelming. Her mother’s words resonated and her heart broke like fallen glass, the tiny pieces scattered. “Oh, Mom.”
Three light taps on the door snared her attention and she looked up. Carter walked into her room, wearing nothing but a pair of worn jeans riding low below his waist. “Macy, darlin’, it’s past midnight. You coming to bed?”
The sight of the tall, tanned, handsome cowboy walking into her room as if he belonged there struck her like a bolt of lightning. She loved his drop-dead body, his hazel eyes and the sensual tone of his Texas drawl. She loved everything about Carter McCay. And the clarity that only her mother’s letter could draw out finally dawned on her.
She was in love with Carter.
She loved him from the very depths of her being.
And she realized, too, that her fears were never about leaving the ranch to go back to her “real” and insane world. She’d dreaded leaving Carter.
Her perfect, stubborn cowboy.
She slammed her eyes shut.
“Hey,” he said tenderly, coming over to the bed. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
She held it together long enough to lift the letter she’d let fall into her lap. “It’s the last…the last l-letter from my m-mother.”
Carter’s sympathy reached his eyes. He climbed onto the bed and wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t cry, Macy.”
She set her head on his shoulder and sniffled some more.
“Or maybe, do cry.” He seemed out of his element, but the comfort of his solid strength helped. He was always trying to protect her. “I don’t know.”
She raised her head to meet his eyes. She knew she probably looked a mess with a tear-stained face and red, blotchy eyes. “It’s just that I thought I knew everything. And now, I find out I was wrong. About a lot of things. It’s crazy, you know.”
“I don’t know,” he said tenderly. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Macy didn’t hesitate to unburden herself. She’d wanted to share this with him for a long time. “Those rings I sold at Waverley’s, well, I thought they were cursed. I started thinking of them as the Love Curse Diamonds. And then when we ran into each other outside the restaurant-”
“When you were almost mowed over by the press?”
She sniffed. “Yes, then. I found out you had proposed to Jocelyn with that ring, and she refused you. I felt so bad that you had gotten hurt.”
Carter didn’t react. He didn’t even flinch at the mention of Jocelyn’s name. She derived some relief and, selfishly, a little bit of pleasure from that. Maybe Carter had gotten over Jocelyn.
She went on, “I believed that anyone who held on to those rings would never be happy. I mean, my mother had been married three times. All three marriages brought her nothing but hard luck. First, my father died in a horrific crash. And then there was Amelio Valenzuela. He was some sort of prince who told my mother after the wedding he was duty-bound to rule his small country. He left her after three weeks and there was a big scandal. Then there was Joseph the Jerk. He was a fashion photographer who adored my mother. He gave her everything she wanted until he put that ring on her finger. That was the ring you bought,” she added. Macy felt guilty enough to duck her head down, even now, after she realized she’d been mistaken about the diamonds. “Joseph cheated on her so often and so blatantly after they were married that she walked out on him a few months after their wedding.”
Carter listened to her and nodded. “So, what happened? Did your mother tell you something in the letter to change your mind?”
“Yes, and with her explanation I’m seeing things more clearly. Now I understand. I know why she did the things that she did.”
“And you don’t believe the rings are cursed?”
She shook her head and drew a deep breath to steady her shallow breathing. Her crying had drained her energy. “I sold those rings at auction because I needed the money. My mother didn’t have a head for business. She was broke when she died, and then I made those errors in judgment.”
Carter kissed her forehead, distracting her. His arms around her lent her the strength she needed. “Which ones?” he asked.
“You remember me telling you about that nude scene I wouldn’t do?”
“Yeah,” he said, squeezing her shoulder, his voice a little lighter. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”
