Reckless Promise

by Jenny Andersen

  A wicked grin flirted with one corner of his mouth. "Does it make it any better that I couldn't resist you even when I didn't trust you?"

  "Yes. No. I don't know. I wish you had trusted me, just a little. But I did my best to be convincing."

  "Let's call it a draw." He put his arms around her and she leaned into him.

  "I don't know where this thing with us is going, Mac, but there won't be any other men while we're finding out. Trust that."

  He bent his head and kissed her, a kiss like a brand.

  Poppy melted against him and closed her eyes. She wanted this. But she needed to straighten out the mess she'd left in Boston.

  "I know where it's going. Right straight into the shower. We've got half an hour to get cleaned up and get up to dinner."

  She laughed, a shaky little thread of sound. "I could use dry clothes too. These are still a little damp." She turned toward the bedroom. Mac followed along with her.

  "I thought I'd shower with you, and then grab some clean clothes when we get up to the house. If you don't mind." He ran a finger along her chin, tilting her face up for another kiss. That special smile lit his face, a little evil and a lot enticing.

  Twenty five minutes later, Mac urged Poppy up the stairs to the main lodge. "Go on in, honey. I'll go change and be back in a—"

  Tom barreled down the hall, pale and sweating. He grabbed Mac's arm. "You've got to stop her."

  Dread streaked through Poppy when she saw his wild eyes and shaking hands.

  "What's wrong now?" Mac demanded.

  "Alice. She won't tell me what's wrong. She's leaving."

  Mac bolted down the hall to Tom and Alice's suite, Poppy and Tom right on his heels. He didn't bother to knock. The door slammed back against the wall, and he ran through the empty sitting room into the bedroom.

  Poppy fetched up the doorway and clung to the doorframe keep from crashing into Tom. Alice stood beside the bed, carefully, precisely folding clothes into an open suitcase. She ignored the tears that left shiny streaks on her face.

  "Well?" Mac demanded.

  "I'm leaving." She added a sweater to the case.

  "The hell you are."

  With Mac's anger directed at someone else, Poppy had no difficulty hearing the fear that lay under the words.

  "What happened to your new-found wisdom about staying out of affairs that don't concern you?" Alice didn't look at Mac, but her fists clenched in a handful of silky underwear. She wadded it up and threw it at the suitcase. It missed, and fell to the floor.

  Mac recoiled and reached for Poppy's hand. "You leaving concerns me."

  "I'm sure I'm replaceable. Maybe your fancy city woman here can take over my duties. Including Tom, since that's what he asked her here to do." Alice threw a pair of shoes at the suitcase.

  Poppy flinched at that bitter voice. That's exactly the way she'd felt when she decided to be the other woman: suffering, angry, guilty, ready to strike out at anyone who came near just because she hurt so much.

  In her case the guilt had been because she should stay to fight for her job and her reputation. Heaven only knew what Alice had to feel guilty about. Time to find out, though, even though she knew Mac wouldn't like the next few minutes. She squeezed his hand and edged in front of him.

  "Throwing away your life because your feelings are hurt isn't going to help," she said to Alice.

  Alice ignored her.

  Mac tugged at her hand. "What are you doing?"

  Poppy grimaced. Mac and his 'protect the little woman' mode.

  "I'm trying to find out what's got your sister so upset," she said evenly. "Unless you want to just let her leave."

  "She's not leaving."

  "You can't stop me," Alice said.

  "Yes, I—"

  "Shut up, both of you," Poppy ordered.

  Alice threw down the clothes she'd been holding and turned on Poppy. "Keep out of this. You've done enough damage here. This isn't any of your business."

  "I know," Poppy said in her most calm, I'm-in-control-here teacher's voice. "But it appears that I'm in the middle anyway, so sit down and listen." Alice didn't move. Poppy put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Now pay attention, all of you."

  Feeling very much as though she were standing in front of a class with no lecture notes, Poppy looked from Alice to Tom to Mac. "Let me summarize, just to be sure we all understand the situation. Tom loves Alice. Tom thinks that Alice no longer returns his feelings. Mac will do anything to protect his sister. Am I correct so far?"

  Mac nodded.

  Tom's mouth set in a grim line and he chipped the words out. "You know you are."

  "I do love him." The words burst from Alice.

  "Then why the hell are you leaving?" Tom glared at Alice, fists clenched.

  "She feels guilty about something," Poppy said. Her statement lay in the sudden silence like a rattlesnake, fat with menace.

  As she expected, Mac started to protest, but subsided after one look from her.

  "Come on, Alice," Poppy said. "Whatever your secret is, it can't be so bad that it's worth destroying a marriage, a family, and two men who love you."

  Alice stared straight ahead, at the wall. Color rose in her cheeks but she didn't speak, and wouldn't meet Poppy's gaze. Poppy planted herself squarely in front of Alice, prepared to wait for as long as it took.

  Silence filled the room. Tom shifted uneasily and Poppy nailed him with a paralyzing glare. Mac cleared his throat. Poppy shifted the glare to him and his words died stillborn. The misery on his face tore at her but she wouldn't, couldn't, break the silence. Alice had to tell them.

  Finally Alice drew in a long shaky breath and looked up at Poppy. Poppy concentrated on maintaining her implacable stare.

  Alice glanced at Tom. She went pale and turned to Mac. "Mac?" she said, her voice a soft plea. "I can't—"

  "Mac's not going to help you this time, sweetie," Poppy said with a warning look at him. "This is between you and Tom, remember?"

  "Then what are you doing in my bedroom?" Alice shouted as she came up off the bed.

  "Refereeing." Poppy pushed Alice back down. "Now stop stalling and tell Tom what's going on."

  Alice clamped her lips shut, her expression mutinous.

  "You spent the savings account on the Shopping Channel?" Poppy suggested. "Hit and run when you were in town? Contemplating a sex-change operation?"

  Alice made a muffled sound of pain.

  "No?" Poppy watched her, torn between sympathy and exasperation. Mac straightened away from the wall and Poppy motioned him to stay. "No. This is one time you can't save her. So. When did she start acting like this, Tom?"

  "About five or six months ago," Tom said, misery written clear on his face.

  "Late winter or early spring, then. What happened here then?"

  Alice put her hands over her face. Her shoulders quivered. Poppy compressed her lips, biting back words of comfort. She couldn't quit now. Alice would break any minute. This had to be done, like lancing an infected wound, but the pain and sorrow in the room were almost too much to bear. Mac looked dangerously near explosion.

  "We were happy," Tom said. His voice cracked on 'happy'. "The last guests were gone. It's always the best time of the year for us. Every year it's like another honeymoon. We’ve never been closer. We were even talking about having a baby. And then out of the blue, Alice was crying all the time, and half the time she slept on the couch—" Tom broke off, red staining his cheeks. "And she wouldn't talk to me."

  Poppy pulled Alice's hands away from her face. "That's it, isn't it?"

  Alice pushed her away so violently that Poppy stumbled backward. Mac caught her and she leaned into his warmth for a minute, praying she'd read Alice correctly. "Come on. You might as well tell us."

  "I can't. It will destroy everything." Alice bowed her head and refused to look at anyone.

  "It's destroyed already. You might as well go for it, babe."

 
; The 'babe' did it.

  Alice looked up at her through tears. "How could you know?" she whispered.

  "I saw," Poppy said. She held Alice's gaze. Oh, please. Please let me do this right. She reached out for Mac's hand, and latched on to it as if it were a life line. "I watched you at the doctor's when your friend showed off her new baby. I saw your face when Chickie said she was pregnant. I saw the way you looked at Tom, with so much love and so much pain in your eyes, as if your heart were breaking. You were hurting with something that didn't have anything to do with me."

  Tom pushed past Poppy and grabbed Alice by the shoulders. "All this is because I said it was time to think about a baby?"

  Poppy stepped back into the circle of Mac's arm. He radiated heat, and what she'd just done, what she'd seen in Alice's eyes, had left her shaken and shivering with cold. He wrapped both arms around her and held her in front of him. She looked up at him, but his gaze was fixed on his sister.

  Alice had turned her head away, not looking at Tom.

  "Is that what this is all about?" Tom demanded. "I thought you wanted kids. We even talked about it before we got married."

  She didn't answer, and he flung away with an angry curse.

  Poppy felt Mac's muscles bunch. She gripped his arm in warning and he subsided. "For heaven's sake, Alice, stop being such an idiot and tell him. You're throwing the baby out with the bathwater here."

  Alice burst into tears.

  Mac jerked toward her. Poppy held him. "Wait," she murmured.

  The tears slowed. Alice blew her nose. "I can't have children," she said, facing Tom as if he were a firing squad.

  Mac jolted and Poppy pressed back against him. So he hadn't known. But she couldn't stop to soothe Mac right now.

  "Well, hell," Tom shouted. "Why didn't you just tell me? So we can't have kids. What kind of squirrel-brained logic says I'd rather have nothing at all? I'd have liked kids but it's not the end of the world. I'd still have you and the ranch. What a hell of a time for you to have a mega-blonde moment." Tom turned to Mac. "She's your sister. You tell me. What's she using for brains?"

  Poppy watched Alice intently. "I think there's something more," she said, her voice gentle, and Alice shot her a look that combined intense dislike and gratitude.

  "She's right." Alice faced Tom. "I knew when we got married that I couldn't have children." She went even paler and stood stiff as a poker, white-faced and shaking. "I lied."

  Tom stopped as though he'd been shot.

  Mac went rigid. Poppy felt the shock as every muscle in his body tightened.

  "That would do it, all right," Poppy murmured. "Mac, I think perhaps we are de trop. Tom and Alice need to talk about this." She pushed him toward the door.

  "But—" Mac resisted.

  "Forsaking all others, Big Brother. That includes you. Let's go." She shoved until Mac started moving, and kept pushing until they were in his room. Poppy shut the door and leaned back against it. "Well, that was fun," she said, her voice just a shade too bright. Her hands shook and she clasped them tightly in front of her. She really, really hated scenes.

  Mac stood in the middle of the room, shaking his head as if he'd taken a hard hit to the head but hadn't fallen yet.

  Poppy watched him for a moment. Alice's lie had been shocking enough, but the stunned reaction seemed excessive for a would-be uncle. Presumably if he wanted children around the ranch that badly, he could supply them himself.

  A tall brown bottle stood on the dresser. Poppy got a glass from the bathroom and poured him a drink. "Here," she said.

  He slugged down the whiskey in a single gulp. Poppy set the glass on the dresser and pulled him over to sit on the bed. "Ready to talk?" she asked, sinking down beside him.

  He looked at her as though she'd started speaking Sanskrit.

  "Tell me why you are so upset by Alice's revelation," she prompted. "Were you that dedicated to being an uncle?"

  "No." His voice sounded hoarse, as though he'd been shouting. "Believe it or not, there are some things that I recognize as none of my business." A faint smile twisted his mouth. "That would be one of them."

  "What is it then?"

  "She lied."

  "Apparently. And lying is bad." Poppy knew that better than anyone. She'd been on the receiving end of some world class, career-destroying lies, and she'd hated every minute of her Other Woman performance, its own kind of lie. "But Alice did it, not you."

  He rested his chin against her hair. "You know I pretty much raised Alice. The most important thing I taught her was not to lie. Lying is the one unforgivable sin. The one thing that neither one of us ever did. Not ever. And now, to find out that she—that she—"

  "Mac, she's all grown up now. You can't be responsible any longer."

  "I'll always feel responsible."

  If she hadn't felt his pain so strongly, she'd have been tempted to smack him. He really didn't seem to get that Alice was a grown up woman, one who could, and had to, deal with her own life without his interference. "Her lie is something she and Tom have to work out. You aren't involved."

  "Don't you understand the damage a lie can do?"

  "Yes. Better than you do, perhaps."

  "I doubt that." He jerked away from her to pace the room, his mouth twisted with some strong emotion she couldn't identify. "Lies can end the world."

  So what was that all about? It would seem that MacLean family secrets ran to the deep and dark. "I know lies can end the world," she said. "I hate to sound like Pollyanna, but the end of one world can mean the beginning of another. You just have to pick up and go on." Like she was doing. Trying to do. If Mac would unstick himself from the past, whatever that might be, and meet her halfway.

  "Ignore what she did? "

  "No, of course not. But you can't blame yourself for her actions. What you can do is be there for her when she needs you. And for Tom."

  "Be there." He stopped pacing and stared at her. He pounded a fist into his palm, over and over.

  "Yes. She's upset and hurt and...whatever. She doesn't need you messing in her marriage, but she needs to know you still love her."

  "But a lie like that—"

  Fear heaved in her stomach. "Talk about throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Are you so rigid and controlling that you can stop loving your sister so easily?" She couldn't keep the selfish thought from scrolling across her mind: did that mean he'd cast her away just as easily? "Does that mean you don't still love her?"

  "Of course I do." He didn't sound all that certain.

  "Okay." She let out an exasperated breath. "Dancing around emotional problems must be a MacLean family trait and I think I've seen enough of it. Let's get to the bottom of this. We both agree that lying is bad. And Alice told a terrible lie. But she told it to Tom. To her husband, not her brother. And he seems willing to forgive her. You're acting as though your only sister just turned into a monster. Why?"

  He rubbed a hand across his face. "I guess you could say there's a family history of lying, and the results were not good. Our mother said she loved us, a lie from the get-go. She left with another man. Our father—well, there wasn't anything he didn't lie about. And I was married once," he said. "Her lies were...unforgivable. That's three for three."

  She waited, but he didn't say more. "So is Alice's lie unforgivable?"

  "No. I guess not. I'm surprised. Madder than hell." He shrugged. "I'll live with it."

  The shock cleared from his eyes and the familiar hawk-like expression returned, to her relief. He didn't actually smile, but the twist of his mouth would do for now. She'd get some dinner in him, and take him home with her, and he'd feel better in the morning. And not a minute too soon. "So. Alice is taken care of. What are the chances of some dinner?"

  "We'll get something from the kitchen. Dinner's probably over by now."

  "Oh." She clapped a hand over her mouth. "The guests. I forgot all about the guests."

  "Most of them know how to eat by themselves." His expression ligh
tened and she saw his shoulders relax. "Anyway," he continued, "Chickie and Moses came back. I imagine they heard all the shouting and took over in the dining room."

  "What about the evening walk? I can't believe Alice will be up to that tonight."

  "Moses will do it." Mac opened the door and ushered her out into the hall. "You're good to be concerned. I think you've got the makings of a good ranch mommy, just like Alice." He looked stricken at his choice of words, shrugged, and walked down the hall.

  She'd never imagined mothering a ranch. Hmm.

  "Well, it's about time." Chickie pulled bowls of stew out of the oven. "Sit. I kept some dinner warm. I could hear Alice yellin' clear down here, but Moses shut the door to the dining room and said the guests didn't hear anything. I've been just about comin' out of my skin worryin'."

  Mac patted her shoulder. "Don't know what to tell you. They're talking. Outside of that, I don't know."

  "'Bout time." Chickie set the bowls on the table. "I said sit."

  Obediently, Poppy sank into a chair beside Mac. Chickie's uncharacteristic terseness and irritability spoke to the depth of her concern. Poppy had expected a flood of comment. Instead, Chickie pressed her lips together and set salads in front of them without a word.

  Mac looked at the offerings as though he'd never seen food before. Poppy jogged him with her elbow. "Eat," she said, and picked up her fork. She wasn't exactly in the mood for food herself, but dinner seemed like such a normal thing to do, and she craved normality right now.

  The oppressive silence that filled the kitchen lasted until Moses came in. "I'm takin' the sunset walk out now." He looked questioningly at Mac.

  Mac only nodded.

  Moses paused in the doorway. "Things goin' to be okay?"

  Mac looked up and shrugged. "Hope so."

  He looked so desolate that Poppy felt her heart turn over. She put a hand on his arm but couldn't think of anything to say. Words would only offer false comfort.

  "Be back in an hour," Moses said. He stopped to gather Chickie into a careful bear hug before he left. She watched him go with a besotted grin on her face that made Poppy smile.

  "He treats you like a piece of porcelain," she said.

  "Silly bear," Chickie groused, but the grin didn't fade. It got bigger, if anything. "He acts like I'm goin' to break if he raises his voice. Ought to know better, the old fool. Just 'cuz I'm havin' a baby—" She darted a glance at Poppy. "Seems like that upset Alice some?"