But he still hadn’t said anything about loving her. “You said that Riley needed a mother, someone like Anne, someone who could braid hair, would be there when she came home from school.”
Mac jerked out of his relaxed pose and walked to the open paddock door.
Whenever she thought of becoming a family with Mac and Riley, her thoughts always returned to Anne—delicate, gentle, refined Anne. Holly stared at the hay-strewed concrete floor. She had to ask. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Mac strode across the space separating them. He knelt in front of her. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. And I don’t want Riley’s teacher, or the librarian or someone who looks like Riley’s mother. I want you, Holly. I figured I needed someone who could be a good parent because I...I... I don’t know how to care for her properly.”
Holly’s heart ached for Mac. All the love he had for his child he couldn’t express and he still thought the girl needed someone else. “Do you love your daughter?”
Mac jerked back in shock. “Of course I love her.”
“Then you’ll figure it out, just like everybody else. You just need some practice. People aren’t born knowing how to be a mom or a dad. At least that’s what my mom said. She said Sonny was her experimental baby.”
“That explains a lot.” Mac gave her a small smile. “And then you find him a man-hating horse. I’m surprised the man is as successful as he is.”
Holly laughed, then quickly sobered. “I asked you once why you were so hurtful to me after the family Christmas party.”
Mac grimaced. “I told you I was—”
She pressed a hand to his cheek. “You were in pain. I understand now. And when you’re in pain you lash out. Like with Mrs. Hershberger’s car. Like now, seeing me with Riley and Frosty.” She stopped, uncertain how Mac would react to her armchair psychology. He was a master at hiding his feelings behind a mask of toughness, but now, she could see the mask begin to slip.
Mac wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re right, Holly. Your brother helped me see I’ve been looking at things all wrong. And I can’t ask you to give up the coffee shop. We’ll figure something out.”
“Mac.” A kettledrum had replaced her heart. She had to ask. “What about me?”
Mac cupped her cheek in his palm. “What about you?” He smiled.
“Do we still have a deal?”
“Of course.”
The kiss was perfect, as sweet as the first kiss. But he still hadn’t said the words. Mac still hadn’t told Holly he loved her. Of course would have to be enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE BEAR MEADOWS CUBS had won the first Friday night football game of the season, and it seemed as if the whole town was celebrating.
Adam McClain came out from the kitchen, carrying a rack of clean coffee cups. “’Scuse me, Miss Hoffman.” Adam set the tray on the counter and proceeded to place the cups on top of the espresso machine.
“I didn’t even see you come in,” Holly said. “What are you doing working?” She noticed the two black dashes of face paint underneath his eyes. “You just won your first game. You should be celebrating.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I noticed you were low on cups.” He pointed to the seating area, where Ethan wiped crumbs from the low tables. “We thought we should help out since you’re so busy tonight.”
“Okay, well, great. Carry on, then.” A glimmer of satisfaction bloomed inside her chest as Holly glanced over at Louise, busy refilling a plate with no-bake cookies. “I see you’re wearing your new shirt.”
Louise raised an eyebrow. “About time you coughed up some money and got us decent shirts.” She brushed a piece of lint off the sleeve of her pale yellow polo shirt. “This shade looks good with my hair, don’t you think?”
“I need a nonfat vanilla latte, Holly, pronto. The game footage has to be at the station for the eleven o’clock news and I’ve been up since six.” Wendy Valentine stood on the other side of the counter, dressed in a blue blazer with a plaid scarf looped around her neck. Her sleek black hair curved perfectly under her chin.
Holly reached for a cup and, writing the order code on a yellow sticky note, set the cup next to Carolyn, who stood at the espresso machine steaming milk.
She winked at Holly. “I saw her coming and already poured the milk.”
Holly turned back to Wendy. “Are you doing sports now? I thought you did weather.”
Wendy swiped her debit card, a pleased smile on her face. “I got an offer from a station in Atlanta. They suggested I try some other venues and my station manager agreed. I leave for Atlanta the first of the year, which is why Ms. King and I have been meeting here. She wanted to get to know me better.”
“Good for you, Wendy. I’m not surprised.” Carolyn set the latte on the counter. “Good luck to you.”
“Oh, and—” Wendy blinked her long, black lashes “—if you see Mac, tell him I’m sorry. Sometimes I get carried away.”
“Sorry for what?” She couldn’t imagine why Wendy would be apologizing to Mac.
“He’ll know.” Wendy practically bounced to the door. “Thanks, ladies.” With a backward wave she was gone.
“Two soy decaf lattes, Holly.” Mayor Gold placed two Wildflower travel mugs on the counter and glanced at a tall, thin man by the door.
“Two? Coming right up, Mayor.” Holly wrote the abbreviations on sticky notes and set the cups on the counter to the right. “Is Bill the mailman waiting for you?”
Deb nodded, smiling at the man in the knee-length shorts and Hawaiian-print shirt. “That’s my Bill.” She handed Holly a ten. “Turns out he’s into composting. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, what do you do with your coffee grounds?”
Holly handed over the change along with the travel mugs and frowned when she felt an instant surge of guilt. “I put them in the trash.”
Deb’s mouth dropped open and for a minute, Holly thought she was about to make one of her speeches. “Well, then, we need to talk. You give me your coffee grounds and we’ll look into giving you a discount on your rent. But wait until after the weekend. Bill and I are going away.” She wagged a finger in the air. “And tell that man of yours to start using one of your travel cups. He needs to set an example.” She winked and handed one of the cups to her new friend.
The couple walked to the mayor’s yellow motor scooter. The basket had been removed, apparently for Bill, because they both strapped on helmets and climbed onto the scooter, the mayor switching on the lights as they drove down the street.
Carolyn carried the milk containers to the sink and turned on the water. “Can you get some milk from the kitchen? I’m almost out.”
“Sure.” Holly shoved open the door into the kitchen and ran right into her father. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
Leaning against the sink while her mother emptied the dishwasher, her father gave Holly a smile. “Big night for you.”
Holly eased past her parents, her gaze flicking from one to the other. She had interrupted a discussion. Of what, she had no idea. “Yes, it is. I thought you didn’t like crowds.” She disappeared into the cooler and returned with two jugs of milk. Closing the door with a hip, she paused in front of her father. She couldn’t have been more surprised at what came next than if a movie star had walked into the coffee shop.
Fritz wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m proud of you, Holly. You’ve done a good job here.”
Despite the milk containers in each hand, she wrapped her arms around her father. “Thanks, Dad. Your support means a lot.”
Rose slammed shut the dishwasher door, a smile on her face. She wrapped her arms around Holly and her husband. “See. You two should talk more often.”
Holly’s face was against her father’s shirt and her mother�
��s hair was tickling her nose. “Hey, can’t breathe here. Carolyn is waiting for milk.”
Laughing, her parents released her.
Her back against the door, Holly paused. “The travel cups and T-shirts are selling like hotcakes, Dad. Thanks for the suggestion.”
Her father just nodded, a smile playing about the corners of his lips.
Holly pushed through the door, equal parts amused and thrilled at her parents’ praise.
“Three vanilla lattes, Holly,” Sue said. “And I’ll have an order of cinnamon rolls ready for you first thing in the morning. Those Penn State fans start coming through town pretty early.”
Depositing the milk in the refrigerator under the counter, Holly said, “Three lattes?”
Sue nodded in the direction of the two boys, still picking up after customers. “Since the fellas are busy, the girls figured we’d mix up some cookies. They feel guilty because they knew what the boys were up to all along. Shelly’s even considering culinary school to be a pastry chef. She wants to work for me part-time.” She shrugged. “Life sure is funny, isn’t it?”
Holly chuckled as she prepared the three lattes. Life was hilarious. Just when a person thinks she has the game figured out, the rules change.
Finally the only people left in the shop were Holly, Mac and Riley, who lay curled up on the couch. The Flowers Bed and Breakfast was full of Penn State football fans in town for tomorrow’s game and Rose and Fritz had returned home to prepare tailgating snacks.
After cleaning out the pots and covering the pastries, Holly leaned on the counter. “Late night.”
Mac leaned on the counter across from her, his eyes thoughtful as he watched his daughter sleep. “She’s had a lot going on lately. She started first grade last week, had a birthday party and tonight she was beyond excited to sit with Thomas’s kids at the football game.”
“She likes coming here after school.” Holly tilted her head toward a small desk near the window. “She settles in with a strawberry-banana smoothie and does her homework.”
“Coming here after school makes her feel special. I’m glad this worked out, Holly.”
She touched his arm. “Is your truck outside?”
“Parked across the street.” He picked up Riley and rested her limp body on his shoulder.
Coming around the end of the counter, Holly gave him a smile. “Do you mind if we walk?”
Mac’s brows bunched in puzzlement. “Why should we walk when we have a perfectly good vehicle right outside the door?”
Holly wrapped her arms around man and girl as she kissed him lightly on the lips. “A full moon is out and the smell of fall is in the air. We’ll take Riley to your house, come back for the truck and go for a drive.”
After making sure everything was off except the light over the counter, Holly locked the door behind her. “I love football weather.” She breathed deeply and the scents of wood smoke, dry leaves and decaying vegetation filled her lungs. The smell would always remind her of Pennsylvania in the fall. Holly had found nothing to compare anywhere in the world. She put a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “So, are we walking?”
Mac grinned at her over Riley’s head. “Don’t you always get your own way?” He started down the steps, his arms protectively around his daughter, who was still sleeping.
“I didn’t get you.” Holly bit her tongue. She hadn’t intended to say anything but the words slipped out. Despite their détente, despite their closeness, despite her resolution to let it go, Holly still couldn’t understand why Mac had kissed her with such passion and then left town.
Mac turned at the base of the steps. “What are you talking about?”
Holly took a deep breath and plunged in. “Anne got you.” She pressed her hands together to still the trembling. “She was the beautiful Southern belle, the equestrian. She knew genetics so she must have been smart, too, and...you had a child with her.” Holly descended the steps slowly. When she reached the bottom she continued down the sidewalk. “She’s the opposite of me.”
“First of all, the two of you are surprisingly similar.” Mac caught up and together they walked down the darkened street.
“I met Anne when I was stationed at Fort Bragg. They had this public relations thing where local families invited troops to their homes for Thanksgiving dinner, and me and two of my buddies ended up at the Drakes’ horse farm.” He paused, as if remembering those long-ago days. “A few months later I was sent overseas. We emailed as much as we could and she sent me funny cards and packages.” He continued in a softer voice. “We married right after I got back.” He glanced at Holly. “I had a hard time coming back to the States, getting used to the...differences. She understood. Her dad was a Vietnam vet. Maybe that helped.” He smiled. “Maybe the mint juleps helped, too.”
Holly glanced up but in the darkness she couldn’t read his expression. “Go on.”
“Remember how I said I was different when I came home?” Mac shook his head. “We have so much stuff in this country and everybody goes about their business, in their own little bubble with no idea what’s happening on the other side of the world. Feeling secure, adapting to this life again, well, takes a while.” He stopped and when Holly continued on he reached out and grabbed her coat. “Anne understood. And then the baby... My daughter gave me something to live for. I needed that.”
Holly put her hands on his shoulders. “I understand. She was your first love and I don’t want to replace her, either in your life or in Riley’s life.”
“No, Holly, you don’t understand. Anne was the woman I needed when I came home. She brought me back to life, back to myself. But you were my first love, Holly. I fell in love with you the day your brother brought me home.”
“Mac, you were the first boy I ever kissed and the next day you left for boot camp. Why did you wait so long?”
Mac grimaced, still clutching his daughter. “Remember watching Wendy talking to Ms. King?”
Holly turned and started walking slowly down the sidewalk. “Yes.” They passed the yellow-and-brown Go Bear Meadows sign in Mrs. Hershberger’s yard.
“Remember the look in Wendy’s eyes?” Mac’s voice grew soft. “You had that look.”
Holly realized Mac had stopped in front of Mrs. Hershberger’s house and came back. “What are you talking about? What does Wendy have to do with anything?”
“That look, the one that says you can’t wait to get out into the world and explore. You had that look, Holly. You’d been talking about traveling the world ever since I knew you. You and Chris always said you weren’t marrying right out of high school like your brothers did. I didn’t want to be the one to keep you here, to prevent you from living your dream.”
The thought that Mac had waited so she could live her dream had never entered her head. Deep inside a pressure lifted. She thought back to Louise’s ice cream in the microwave analogy and shook her head. “And now? Why did you wait so long?”
Mac barked a laugh. “I felt guilty, being the one left. Riley would have been better off losing me than her mother, so I tried to replace Anne.”
Holly fingered the latch on the gate of Mrs. Hershberger’s white picket fence. “You can’t replace her.”
Mac had continued to the end of the block and his voice carried in the crisp night air. “No, I can’t. All I can do is surround Riley with as much love and support as possible.”
Holly caught up to Mac just as he turned the corner toward his house. She slipped her arm through his. “So did you just say you love me?”
Mac shifted Riley to the other shoulder, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Holly Hoffman. I wouldn’t be courting you if I didn’t.”
Holly tilted her head. “You’re courting me?”
“That’s what Hawkeye said.”
“Well, he should know.” They cont
inued on in silence, finally coming to Mac’s childhood home. “Riley said you usually go to North Carolina for Thanksgiving...” The comment hung in the crisp air.
Mac ascended the porch steps. A single light burned by the door. He turned and gave her a smile. “Holly?”
“Mac?”
He held up a finger. “Hold that thought.”
As Mac disappeared into the house, Holly climbed the steps and settled onto the swing.
When he returned, he sat and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe you could come along this year.”
“I’d like that.” Holly leaned into him. “Maybe I’ll buy a horse while I’m there.”
Mac threw back his head and laughed. “I have a feeling being married to you will be a heck of a ride.”
“Well, hang on, McAndrews.” Holly pressed a hand to his cheek and touched her lips to his. Memories of their first kiss flooded her mind, when the warmth of the sun and the smell of hay surrounded them. The scent of fall leaves and the chill of the autumn night replaced the memory, but the kiss was just as sweet.
“Mac?” Holly glimpsed a scattering of stars through the chains of the swing.
“Holly?” Mac’s breath fanned her cheek as he dropped kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
“Did you just ask me to marry you?”
EPILOGUE
“HOLLY HOFFMAN. Is that you, back again?”
Latching the gate on Frosty’s stall, Holly turned. “Tiffany?”
When the redheaded woman caught sight of the bulge at Holly’s tummy she gasped. Tiffany sauntered up to them, hands on hips. “Does this mean that good-lookin’ hunk is more than just a friend of the family this year?”
Holly laughed and threaded her arm through Mac’s. “I believe it does, Tiffany. We were married on Christmas Eve.”
Tiffany looked Mac up and down, her lips pursed. “Well, congratulations.” Farther down the aisle, her daughter unsaddled her horse. “I better go help my girl. Good luck.”
Wanted--The Perfect Mom Page 22
