As we drove and he talked about his life with Lachlan and all the traveling they’d done, my wanderlust envied him. Mom had always been perplexed by my desire to journey to different places, but now I realized I’d inherited it from Mac. I just hadn’t been able to afford to do it.
Our taste in music was the same. When I turned on my car, I switched the radio to a rock channel and throughout the day, I’d hear him murmuring the lyrics to the songs I loved too.
While he peppered me with questions about school and work and friends and past boyfriends and everything he’d missed, there were also moments when I stopped the car to take photographs of the scenery, and Mac stood at my side in easy silence. Comfortable silences that existed between fathers and daughters who’d been in each other’s lives from the moment she first opened her eyes.
We had it. In spite of all the crap between us … we had that easiness.
And it scared me.
It didn’t make sense. The whole point of coming here was to see if I could salvage my relationship with my father. Yet now that I knew it was possible, I was anxious.
It worried me because that bond between us could break my heart all over again if Mac decided he wasn’t interested in maintaining a relationship with me. While my gut said he wouldn’t do that to me again, that he was enjoying reconnecting just as much as I was, I couldn’t quite rid myself of the fear, though I was determined not to give into it.
Then I remembered a particular part of my conversation with Mac yesterday that had moved me.
“So …” I’d studied Mac as we stood at the side of the road in among hills and valleys. I’d caught sight of a stag on the hills not far from the road, and the majestic beast had allowed me a few shots before he took off. It was then I found myself wondering whether I was allowed to ask Mac about his love life. I was curious. And he had asked about mine. “There’s never been anyone special in your life? A girlfriend you thought about settling down with?”
My father had shrugged, apparently not uncomfortable with the question. “Not really, no.”
“In all your forty-four years, you haven’t been in love?”
He raised an eyebrow. “There’s a distinct difference between those two questions.”
Aha! So he had been in love, just not with someone he dated. “What happened?”
“A number of things. I suppose fear got in the way.”
Surprised, I replied, “I can’t imagine you being afraid of anything.”
“Does reality disappoint you?”
“No,” I promised him. “I just … I’m sad that was the reason. And continually blown away by your honesty.” Not a lot of men, especially not a lot of men perceived as tough-guy bodyguards, would admit to feeling fear over anything, let alone love.
Mac searched my face. “Everything you’ve told me about yourself, everything I can see for myself … I bet you’ve never run away from anything because you were frightened.”
I considered this. “I guess … and I’m not saying this to hurt you because that’s not my intention. This is just the truth. When you left, the pain was … I imagine it was a lot like grief.”
He flinched and I continued, ignoring my guilt for inflicting damage, because Mac wanted the truth. “And I realized that terrible things happen, things that hurt so bad, it’s almost debilitating, but in the end, you get through it. Time, if not a healing agent, is kind of a numbing agent. Almost everything is survivable. Sad, frightening things happen in life, but I truly believe there’s nothing more frightening than fear itself.” I smiled at him. “Coming here proves that. Because I was scared out of my mind to do this, to meet with you, and I’m so glad I did.”
My last words took the shadows from Mac’s eyes, and we’d shared a soft, affectionate smile.
Then I’d pushed. “Do you want to meet someone, Mac? Have a family with her?”
Mac guffawed. “I’m a little old for that now.”
“In what reality? You’re forty-four. There’s still time for all that.”
“I’m happy as I am. Bachelor for life.” He nudged me with his elbow. “And I already have a family.”
Sensing he no longer wanted to pursue the subject, I’d let it drop.
But I thought about what I’d said to him, how there was nothing more frightening than fear itself.
Lachlan popped into my head.
Maybe I needed to remind myself of my own philosophy. Maybe I was avoiding him. Not running. Just avoiding. For now. Until I could figure out if our affair was a good idea.
Telling myself to focus as I followed directions on Google Maps to McCulloch’s farm, I missed the entrance and had to wait until I found a passing place on the single-track road to turn back.
The entrance to the farm was another rough, single-track road flanked by fenced-in fields of rolling greenery. Farm buildings sat in the distance, and the closer I got, more animals appeared. There were sheep on either side of me. I knew from Mac that McCulloch owned sheep and cattle, so the cows had to be farther afield.
As I slowed and guided my SUV left into the farmyard, the road changed to packed mud, and I thanked God I’d put on my hiking boots instead of my sneakers.
I didn’t see a farmhouse, so I gathered it was somewhere else on the land. What was here
