CHAPTER SIXTEEN
POPPY UNEXPECTEDLY STOPPED by Mac’s office on Paperwork Day. From her place behind her computer, Mac scrutinized her sister and decided she hadn’t been imagining things when she’d told Zan something was off.
“You look tired,” she said to Poppy. “Aren’t you sleeping well?”
“I’m sleeping great.” Her little sister pushed through the swinging door cut into the front counter. Then she narrowed her eyes. “What about you?”
“Sleep? I get it.” Not that she’d tell Poppy where she was getting that sleep. The deal she’d made with Zan was a private one, and simple. Until he left town, she slept in his bed. Though she hadn’t initially agreed when he’d made the proposition that afternoon in the cabin, she’d discovered that fighting the man—and their potent attraction—was useless. She kept ending up with him between the sheets anyway, so she’d taken to just letting go and enjoying the spectacular sex.
And depending upon her well-defended heart not to let him in again.
Poppy tilted her head. “Why are there shadows beneath your eyes, then?”
Mac pretended great interest in the numbers running across her computer screen. “Probably because I’m concerned I’m not going to fit into my bridesmaid dress for your wedding.”
“I can fix that,” Poppy said, then whipped a white bakery bag from behind her back. “I brought you a muffin from Oscar’s and one of their big lattes.”
“I didn’t say the dress was going to be too loose,” Mac replied, even as she snatched up the bag. “I’ve been eating too much.”
Every night, cooking for Zan. When he’d mention wanting to take her out, she’d demur. They shouldn’t be seen together. Not by her family. Not by the general public. She didn’t want there to be any more talk about the legend of Mac and Zan, part two.
He was leaving, and when he was gone she didn’t want family and friends pitying her.
Poppy settled on the corner of the desk, one foot swinging. “So what’s up with you and Zan?”
Mac bobbled the muffin and it fell to the desktop. Picking it back up, she focused on peeling the waxy paper off the sides for a bite and wondered how to redirect the discussion. This conversation was already heading into dangerous territory. Sisters could be mind readers, but worse, sisters could leap to conclusions that would never be.
Poppy saw the world in rosy tones, which was lovely for Poppy, and Mac wanted that for Poppy for the rest of her life, but if she started coloring her sister’s world in those same pinks, there would only be disappointment in the end.
“Mac?” her sister prompted. “You and Zan? Why’d he want to have that supersecret talk with you at the cabins the other day?”
She waved her free hand. “Just stuff about his grandfather’s house. You know I’m helping to pack it up and clean it so it can get on the market.”
“I like that house. It’s got the cool pool, and that library. Very nice.”
Mac lifted her brows. “Want me to put in a word for you and Ryan? I’m sure he’d rather have you guys own it than strangers.”
Poppy shook her head. “I think Zan should hold on to it.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t need the money, does he?”
“I suppose not,” Mac answered. All his grandfather’s considerable wealth had gone to him and he hadn’t been hurting before the old man died. “But he doesn’t live in the mountains.”
“Yes, but he could,” Poppy said, her eyes going dreamy.
Mac didn’t like that look on her sister’s face. “Don’t be painting that picture. He’s going...somewhere, and soon.”
Poppy’s gaze sharpened and shifted to Mac’s face. “You don’t know where he’s off to next?”
She shrugged. “He hasn’t said.” Not that she’d asked. If he was going, then it didn’t matter to her where he went.
A dark moroseness moved through her and she set aside the muffin. There wasn’t room for it with all the gloominess inside her.
“Even if he has a plan, that doesn’t mean he should sell the house,” Poppy declared. “It could be his home base. A place to rest between...whatever.”
She aimed a smile at Mac. “Wouldn’t that be great? We’d get our other brother back. Our brother of the heart.”
“Yeah, great,” Mac muttered. “Our other brother.”
Poppy’s smile didn’t die. “Of course he wasn’t always a brother to you.”
Something in the way she said that line had Mac shooting her sister a suspicious look. “You aren’t spinning romantic fantasies now, are you, Pop?”
Her sister shook her head, all innocence. “I just got the impression he and Brett are tight again, and I like the idea of Zan being around. You know...at least some of the time. Don’t you agree?”
Mac tried imagining Zan being around “some of the time.” How would her life go on? Would it include constant bargaining with herself against driving past that house every day, checking for lights or cars or other signs of life?
If he lived here “some of the time,” maybe one day he’d come to the mountains with a woman on his arm. The one who’d convinced him he could be a family man, after all.
Her stomach roiled and she pushed the muffin farther away.
“Mac,” Poppy said. “What’s wrong? Is it what I said? I’m sorry—”
“No.” Mac shook her head. “I’m just in a weird mood. Let’s talk about something else, something fun. Have you wheedled out of Ryan where he’s taking you on your honeymoon?”
Her younger sister took the bait and they chatted about the possible destinations and her groom-to-be’s stubbornness about keeping it a surprise, despite her best efforts at persuasion. “I’m beginning to think I’ve lost my feminine mojo,” Poppy grumbled.
Maybe she should talk to Ryan, Mac thought, worrying again. That sense that something wasn’t quite right just wouldn’t go away. Of course, maybe it was due to her own preoccupation with Zan.
“Hey.” She tipped her chin to her sister, suddenly inspired. “I have an idea. Why don’t you break out a piece of your honeymoon nightwear early? Or go to Bon Nuit and buy something special to wow Ryan with tonight?” Bon Nuit was the expensive boutique in town that carried lovely lingerie as well as perfumed soaps and beautiful linens.
“Now, that sounds like a plan.” Poppy’s mouth curved.
“And I’ll collect Mason and have a sleepover with him at my place. Tell him it’s a dress rehearsal for when I have him while you two are gone.” It would be her own rehearsal as well, practice at being alone in bed again.
Her sister was out-and-out smiling now. “He’d love that. But are you sure?”
“Heck, yeah. You know we have a great time together.”
Poppy’s smile died and her voice lowered. “You should have kids, Mac.”
Not going to go there. Not going to go there! It had once been a dream and for a few weeks long ago a possibility both exhilarating and terrifying, but she tried not to think about it now. “I’ve got kids, Pop. Mason and London and whoever else might come down the pike thanks to my siblings getting rings on their fingers, all three of them.”
“Mac...”
“Please, Pop. Can we drop it?” she said, squelching any note of desperation from her voice. Cool, calm, in control Mac Walker knew what her life held—and what it did not—and was fine with it.
“But—”
The office door burst open, cutting off her sister’s next words. Yay. But then she half rose because Tilda walked in wearing an expression Mac had never seen on her before. Usually the girl was alert and tightly focused. Now her eyes seemed to be seeing things that were not the office with its blue-gray walls and long counter.
“Are you all right?” she asked her.
Tilda started,
then blinked, as if coming awake to her surroundings. “Um, yeah,” Tilda said.
“You’re on board to do the Conover condo today?”
She nodded, then sucked in her bottom lip a moment. “But I can’t do it the next time.”
Mac’s brows rose. “Okay, we can make a change to the schedule.”
“It’s going to have to be a permanent change.” A smile broke over Tilda’s face, like a bright, blazing dawn. “In two weeks I’m going to London for six months.”
“Wow!” Poppy said. “How come? What will you do there? Where did this sudden decision come from?”
Mac knew—or at least she could guess. “Ash. Ash Robbins.” She’d seen the way he’d torn after Tilda the night she’d run from the café.
The girl nodded. “We’re sort of together.”
Poppy was wide-eyed. “You don’t run off to London with someone you’re ‘sort of’ together with.”
“I know. You’re right.” Tilda bounced on her heels, something Mac had never seen her do, ever. It was an exuberant action, young, and at odds with the Tilda who’d seemed old beyond her years. Always serious. “It’s just hard to think something so good would happen to me.”
Mac knew that feeling. She remembered the glory of not needing food or water or air to survive, only the love of that other person. Seeing it on Tilda’s face, it brought home to Mac how distant her memory of it was.
And with Zan temporarily back in town, how bittersweet.
With effort, she pushed all that aside—or tried to—as Poppy asked pertinent questions and Tilda spilled all about her plans and the absolute thrill she felt about going off with her young lover on an adventure.
Ash wanted her at his side.
Six months was too long to be apart.
Mac thought of a decade. Of 117 postcards.
“Ash makes me believe,” Tilda confessed.
Poppy clapped her hands. “I love that!” she said. “Ryan tells me that all the time.”
Apparently Mac hadn’t made Zan believe. Everything ends, doesn’t it?
Instead of stewing over that, she thought instead of what Tilda’s leaving would mean to her business. Down an employee, she’d have to work that much harder. That would mean much less time to think of the man who would be leaving soon.
Finally, Tilda wound down and went about collecting what she needed to clean the condo as well as the keys to one of the Maids by Mac vehicles. She left for work with another blazing smile and a jaunty wave. Poppy sighed as the door closed behind her. “Awesome, huh?”
“Yeah. She’s had things hard. Maybe this is the beginning of easy for her.”
Poppy was studying her face. “And for you? My supersonic sister sense is tingling, I tell you. Are things hard or easy for you right now?”
“I’m good.” Of course she was. Cool, calm, in control Mac Walker knew what her life held—what her future held—and was fine with it.
She grinned at her little sister. “Life’s good, right? Another wedding coming up. A night ahead with my favorite nephew. A honeymoon trip for you that I better hear about tomorrow morning in detail, since you’re making a stop at Bon Nuit in order to cajole the destination out of Ryan.”
Poppy wiggled her brows. “Oh, I can so do cajoling.”
Mac laughed, loving the anticipation on her sister’s face, the confidence she had. Her sister had always been optimistic, holding tight to those rose-colored glasses of hers. But with all she’d gone through to get a deeply wounded man to love her and cleave to her side, Mac thought Poppy’s hold was no longer quite so tight. Now her sister just counted on them staying firmly on her nose.
Ryan had given her that assurance. As Poppy had given him belief in beautiful things and happiness after grief.
Mac’s mood lightened more as she thought of how well things had turned out for her younger sister. She’d been right when she’d told Zan that she herself was invested in Poppy’s happiness. I think if we can keep her buoyant and bright, then I might eventually be that way, too.
Her sister now came to her feet. “I should let you get back to work.”
Mac nodded. “Yeah, and I need to get back to it. I want to finish early so I can dream up what Mason and I might do tonight.”
“Ryan’s teaching him to play chess.”
Mac groaned. “I don’t even remember which piece does what.”
“He’ll tell you,” Poppy said on a grin. She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Off to shop.”
At the door, she paused. “I think I’ll see if there’s something special for a pretty girl heading off to London with her guy.”
Mac nodded. “I’ll go halfsies.”
Before she left for good, Poppy gave Mac one more smile, and Mac heard the echo of her own words again. I think Poppy holds all my hope. I think if we can keep her buoyant and bright, then I might eventually be that way, too.
Through the window, Mac watched her sister climb into her car. Yes, it was going to be all right. She didn’t need any more than this: her mountains and her business. Her family, whole and happy.
She was deep in paperwork when her cell phone rang. Glancing at it, she saw that her brother was on the line. Picking up the device, she swiped to accept the call. “Yo.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Hello?” Mac lifted the phone from her ear, stared at it, put it back to the side of her head. “Hello? Did you butt-dial me?”
Then something about the quiet on the line made the darkness gather inside her again, a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe. “Brett? Talk to me.”
“Mac.” Her brother’s voice sounded rough. He cleared his throat. “Mac, there’s been an accident.”
“What?” Panic flowed, then froze, and her heart skated without control, as if across black ice. “Who?”
“It’s Poppy, Mac. We need to get to the hospital, stat.”
* * *
HOLD ON, HOLD ON, HOLD ON, Mac chanted, both to herself and her little sister. Brett had offered sparse detail over the phone. A car had crossed the midline on the highway and crashed head-on into Poppy’s vehicle. That driver was okay. Her airbag had gone off. When Ryan called, Poppy was in the process of being evaluated.
So Mac was driving, her hands squeezing the steering wheel, bracing to do whatever was necessary to keep her family calm and contained. Her job was to minimize the drama, and so falling apart was not an option.
Brett was standing at the doors as she rushed into the emergency entrance at the small regional hospital. He caught her by the shoulders and studied her face as if assessing her status. “Okay,” he said. “Here’s the deal.”
Mac continued her slow breathing as her brother explained they’d already put Poppy in an ambulance with Ryan to go down the hill to a larger facility. Shay, Jace and Angelica were already following behind. He’d waited for Mac so they could travel together.
“But why down the hill?” Mac asked, trying to keep fear out of her voice.
“You know this place is so small they practically send everything beyond splinters to a bigger hospital. But they said when there’s the potential for soft tissue injury they particularly want a patient to be at a facility with more diagnostic equipment.”
But she wished she could see her sister, now. “Do they have any idea exactly what’s wrong?”
“We won’t be certain until she’s seen by the doctors there and had those tests,” he said. “Now come on, let’s go in my car.”
It was a tense forty-minute drive. She asked only one question. “Is Ryan losing his mind?” The other man’s ex and his little boy had died in a fire. Hospitals—and the thought of something happening to Poppy—were sure to wig him out.
Brett glanced over. “We’re all losing our minds.”
“
I’m good,” Mac said, instantly. “I’m holding it together.”
Her legs were even steady as they rushed into the much bigger hospital. There, they had to follow a painted line to their destination, and the Wizard of Oz–ishness of it brought a hysterical bubble of laughter into Mac’s throat. But she swallowed it down, and she was glad of it when she arrived in the waiting room.
Four pairs of eyes—Ryan, Jace, Angelica and Shay—swung to her.
“Hey, everybody,” she said calmly. “How’s our Pop? She’s gonna be mad if anything gets in the way of the upcoming wedding.”
“Nothing’s getting in the way of the wedding,” Ryan ground out. Even with his hair askew and his face already haggard, he looked determined...but beyond stressed.
Mac immediately walked over to him and enclosed him in her arms. His banded around her, tight enough to communicate his dread. “She wasn’t making any sense during the ambulance ride.”
“Well, you know Poppy,” Mac said, trying to sound unalarmed. “She doesn’t make sense a lot of the time.”
“Yeah.” Ryan pressed his cheek against the side of Mac’s hair. “I couldn’t talk her out of loving me, thank God.”
“You and Mason are the best things in her life,” Mac said, patting his back. “She’ll be bossing you both around again in no time, you’ll see.”
Mac made the rounds of the others after Ryan retreated to a chair, a picture of abject anxiety with his head in his hands.
Angelica was wiping away tears with her palms, so Mac found her a box of tissues and squeezed her shoulder. Brett took a cushion beside his wife and slung an arm around her, looking more as if he was holding on than offering support. In return, Angelica curled herself into him, so they appeared to be a single unit.
Shay was pacing, Jace’s concerned gaze on her.
Mac went to him first. “London’s getting Mason from school?”
He didn’t take his eyes off his wife. “Yeah, when it lets out. One of her friend’s moms is going to take them both home, keep them there as long as necessary.”
“Okay.” She touched his forearm. “Walkers are tough, Jace.”
Keep On Loving you Page 27
