Suitcases, birdcage, drafting table and supplies scattered about her, Brynn supposed she must look like one of the Beverly Hillbillies come to stay. Only Granny and Jethro were missing from the tableau.
As a tall, lean man unfolded his body from the glider near the massive double entry doors, she wondered if Jethro, too, was about to make an appearance.
“Matt!” Ruth called out, obviously delighted. “You’re home!”
Wondering who Matt was, Brynn tugged gently on Lancelot’s leash so that the dog wouldn’t growl or jump at him. Brynn guessed that Lancelot’s former abusive owner had been a man, since the dog was most agitated around men.
But Matt didn’t rush his approach. In fact, he only took a few steps forward, meeting his family partway. While the others crowded around him, he answered their questions, but his gaze never left Brynn. Uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny, she awkwardly dug the toes of her sandals into the soft grass.
As the babble died down a bit, Matt gestured toward her and Ruth jumped on the opportunity. “Of course, Matt, you haven’t met the newest member of the family.”
Brynn grimaced at Ruth’s choice of words. But Matt didn’t seem to notice, allowing his mother to think she was in control as she tugged his tall body in Brynn’s direction.
“I got so caught up in Matt’s update about Gregory that I nearly forgot you were standing there,” Ruth babbled. “Matt just got back from Washington—trying to find out more about what’s being done to find Gregory.” Tears threatened, then Ruth smiled. “But I didn’t mean to leave you out. Brynn, this is Gregory’s brother, Matt.”
Another brother. Why couldn’t Gregory have been an orphan? She tried to ignore the fact that Matt was sizing her up as she greeted him. “I’m pleased to meet you. I ... I’ve heard so many nice things about you.”
His eyebrows rose. “Not from Gregory you didn’t.”
Brynn sucked in a deep breath, not certain it was relief she felt. So the jig was up. “Well—”
“Gregory never has anything ‘nice’ to say about me,” Matt continued, his scrutiny not pausing. “Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything to say about you, either. So, you’re a complete mystery.”
Brynn managed to smile, barely. “Perhaps I exaggerated. Maybe...‘nice’ isn’t the right word.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But you’re still a mystery.”
Brynn willed herself not to flush. “So are all of you,” she responded, not without a touch of irony.
“But then normally the family gets the chance to meet the new bride before the ceremony’s a done deal.”
“Well... uh... yes...” she stuttered.
Ruth playfully swatted her tall son. “That’s enough of that. Brynn and Gregory have every right to get married the way they want.” Ruth turned sympathetic eyes toward Brynn. “I’ll admit I would love to have seen you walk down the aisle, but the important thing is that you two found each other, made a commitment before...before.” Her voice wavered and tears were threatening again.
Matt put an arm around his mother and she smiled bravely. “Look at me, starting off again and today such a special day. We’ve brought home a part of our family and I know Gregory will join us soon.”
Brynn looked helplessly between Ruth and Matt.
“Welcome to the family,” Matt added slowly. With his free hand, he pushed at his already tousled hair. “We’re all pretty stressed about Gregory....”
Brynn waved her hands to stop the flow of words. “Please don’t apologize.” She didn’t think she could stand any more guilt. At this rate she’d be under tons of the uncomfortable emotion soon. “I’m afraid I’ve made an already difficult situation worse by being here. I’ll leave on the next shuttle to the city.”
“I won’t hear of it!” Ruth declared in a rapidly rising voice.
“Hear of what?” her husband questioned as he rejoined them, his face pale, his breathing uneven.
“Brynn’s talking of leaving.”
“We won’t hear of it,” Frank declared, his voice still weak, but his tone filled with conviction. “We’ve barely gotten you here. You can’t leave.”
“Leave?” Heather questioned, bending to pet Lancelot as she, too. joined them. “Who’s leaving?”
“Brynn says she is,” Ruth replied, clearly agitated.
“But why, Brynn?” Heather asked, turning large, hopeful eyes on her. “Don’t you like it here?”
“It’s not that.... It’s just that I’m making things worse for your family and—”
“Of course you’re not!” Ruth contradicted her. “Your being here makes things easier.” She reached out to enfold Brynn’s hand. “We have a link to Gregory through you. And that’s very precious to us.”
And very bogus, Brynn wanted to add. “But I don’t want to trouble you. This isn’t a good time for guests—”
“Number one, you’re not a guest, you’re family,” Frank interrupted. “Number two. You keep forgetting our business is guests. Wouldn’t have a business without them. So stop worrying.”
She’d barely gotten here and she was already sinking fast. There were simply too many things she didn’t know, couldn’t know about Gregory and his family.
She nearly thumped the side of her head. But you’d think she could remember they were at a ski resort since the mammoth buildings surrounded her, not to mention the ski lifts dotting the mountainsides. Feeling as she often did when lost in her daydreams, Brynn wished she wasn’t always one step out of pace.
Heather picked up Bossy’s cage. “I’ll take this in and show you to your room. Mom picked out the best one for you this morning.”
Ruth had been very sure of her persuasive powers, Brynn acknowledged silently. “Thank you. I wouldn’t mind freshening up.”
Matt grasped her suitcases, looking skeptically at the dog and cat.
“They’ll follow,” Brynn told him. “They’re not used to being outside and I’m afraid they’d get hopelessly lost.”
“We’re used to dogs at the resort,” Matt replied, not mentioning the cat.
The omission worried her. “Snookems won’t get into anything. She doesn’t have much sight left, so she sticks pretty close.”
“Just what I wanted to hear,” he muttered.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come with the pets and all—”
“Don’t start that again,” Matt warned. “You don’t want to see Act Two if you get Mother stirred up.”
“He’s right,” Heather agreed tactlessly. “Mom’ll come unglued.”
“And the meltdown’s not always pleasant,” Matt added as they left the stone floor of the spacious lobby and ascended the stairs. “She’s on the edge already. Won’t take much to push her over.”
Brynn bit down on her lower lip, considering. The MacKenzies were lovely people and she didn’t want to contribute to Ruth’s breakdown. Still, when they discovered the truth, the meltdown would be on a nuclear scale. Obviously the best plan was to make her stay brief, leave behind good feelings, and escape before Gregory returned. And then when he did come back and discovered how noble she’d been, he’d be grateful. Grateful and more, because his eyes would finally be opened. He would see her as she really was, rather than—
“This is your room,” Matt told her, shouldering open the door.
Brynn shook off her daydreams and followed him, trailed by Heather, Lancelot and Snookems. Their mini-parade came to a halt when Matt lifted the heavy suitcases onto the luggage rack near the door as though they were weightless.
The effortless bunching of his considerable muscles led Brynn to believe that this MacKenzie brother must be one who used his brawn instead of his brain. Probably a ski burn, one of those dedicated only to the slopes, rather than pursuing important goals or a career. And having a resort in the family was a cushy way to indulge that habit.
“I’ll have someone bring up your drafting table and supplies,” he added, his gaze lingering just a fraction longer than necessary.
> Brynn had an absurd desire to check her wild hair and see just how many curls were tangled about her face. Instead, she pushed at her heavy glasses, glad for their camouflage. “Thank you. I’ll be needing them.”
Heather cooed at Bossy, who turned his beak to one side as though wondering if the girl had taken leave of her senses. “Take it off, baby. Take it all off.”
Laughing at his words, Heather wagged her finger at the mischievous bird.
Matt didn’t look as amused. “Unusual thing for a bird to say.”
“He’s had a rather colorful past, I’m afraid. Hanging out in bars and strip joints didn’t do much for his manners,” Brynn explained.
Matt’s eyebrow rose. “I see.”
But it was clear he didn’t. “But you don’t understand. I mean—”
“None of my concern where you take your bird.”
“But I didn’t—”
His gaze flicked over her again, then toward his younger sister to emphasize Heather’s presence. “But it’s not something I think we ought to talk about now.” He shook his head. “You’re sure not like the girl I thought Gregory would choose. He was always into sophisticated society beauties.”
Brynn blanched in spite of herself.
“I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” he said quickly, reluctantly meeting her gaze. He was clearly floundering for an explanation. “Just that you don’t look like a high-powered career woman, or a debutante.”
She swallowed the hurt, realizing he hadn’t intended for the words to cause pain. “You’re right, I’m not. I don’t have much in common with those beauties.”
He had the grace to flush with embarrassment. “That wasn’t a commentary on your looks. You look just fine. I meant you aren’t Gregory’s usual type. And that’s to your advantage.”
“Just fine.” The way she’d describe an average meal, a cooling cup of coffee, or a day filled with neither sunshine nor rain. Hardly a glowing accolade.
Still, it wasn’t Matt MacKenzie’s responsibility to find her attractive, or impressive, or challenging. And clearly he didn’t. As she shut the door behind him and his younger sister, she wondered why that bothered her so much.
Chapter Three
Although she spent far too long studying the album of wedding pictures, Brynn still wasn’t all that late getting ready for breakfast, having risen early. It was the only thing she didn’t need an alarm clock for. Rising on time was far easier than remembering appointments and the other distractions of life. Normally she depended on several alarm clocks, enough sticky notes to save a rain forest, and endless recorded messages to remember obligations beyond drawing and delivering her strip. And still she tended to forget many of them.
But she hadn’t needed any of those devices to remember to look at the wedding album this morning. She’d felt an urgent need to reconnect with the pictures in the book, to remind herself why she was here putting on a show for Gregory’s family. As was her habit, Brynn traced the contours of his face, then flipped through to her favorite pages, smiling at the ones that pleased her the most.
Finally shutting the album, Brynn hugged it close before placing it on the dresser in a prominent spot. Knowing she should make an appearance for breakfast, and realizing she was later than she’d expected, Brynn hurried out of her room. Still, she was unable to resist learning more about her surroundings. Once downstairs, Brynn took her time finding the dining room.
In the confusion of arriving the previous afternoon, she hadn’t had the time or opportunity to really look at the interior of the lodge. Now she saw that log-planked walls of the spacious lobby led to other wings that widened and rose above the main area. Discreet signs indicated that dining rooms and banquet halls were close by.
Huge picture windows allowed the mountains and farreaching views to come inside. Tastefully, the MacKenzies hadn’t given in to the formerly faddish rage of decorating in a Southwestern motif. The true Western style, interspersed with striking antiques and traditional pieces, was far more intriguing.
Comfortable, overstuffed leather chairs invited her to sink into their depths. Grouped to take advantage of the imposing river-rock fireplace, more chairs, covered in tasteful, warmcolored fabric, flanked it on each side, and long, deep-seated couches faced them.
Tables of heavy wood burl offered a place to rest a book or hot drink and ottomans offered equally pleasing spots to rest tired feet. Tall indoor trees soared toward the atriumlike ceiling. Skylights crisscrossed the roof, meeting the floor-to-ceiling windows. Except for the reflections of the sun glinting off the polished glass, it looked as though the lobby were set outdoors beneath the pines.
What a magical place to grow up in, she decided, thinking of all the towns and cities she’d lived in during her childhood and adolescence, how eventually they had all blended into one faceless, anonymous lump.
But her mother had been restless, unable to settle long in any one place, always sure that she’d find that elusive “greener grass.” Brynn didn’t think that grass existed for Charlene Magee, but she’d never voiced that opinion—not that her mother would have listened.
What must it feel like to have always lived in one sturdy home? Lived there long enough to memorize the scenery, to have the landmarks branded in your consciousness for all time. No wonder Gregory was such a sensitive, far-thinking man. He’d taken this solid background and used it as a launching pad into an equally solid career, one that had brought him success and recognition.
Recognition that had gotten him kidnapped.
Trying not to think of that, or how he was faring, Brynn. thought instead of the weeks and months of jogging along the same paths, the serious concentration he put into that task, as well.
She’d often dreamed of approaching him—jogging casually alongside him and introducing herself—and of course, his response. He would begin with a casual invitation to coffee...then dinner...and before long they’d be inseparable. He would wonder how he could have jogged past her so many times before asking her out. They would laugh together over his timing; then the laughter would give way to passion as they realized why they truly belonged together. And...
“Brynn. Brynn! Are you all right?” Miranda MacKenzie reached out one hand to gently tap her arm.
“I’m sorry. Just thinking, I guess. About how beautiful the lodge is... And about Gregory.”
“It’s painful for us all, my dear.” Flagrantly dyed blond hair bobbed as Miranda nodded her head. Ten years older than her brother Frank, she was holding on to the last of her middle age with a vengeance. Carefully applied makeup hid many of those years, as did her sharp, intelligent eyes and agile movements. Now that gaze met Brynn’s. “But he’s a sharp boy. Always was. Always figuring angles, coming up with answers no one else does. If anyone can get out of a sticky wicket, it’s our Gregory.”
Brynn listened to this new information about him, eager as always to gather more details. “Really?”
Miranda tipped her head, studying Brynn. “But surely you already know that. Gregory is a fairly open book—if you can find the index. He likes to put on airs as though he’s part of an old Eastern family rather than an equally respectable Westem one, but I’ve never let that dissuade me. And gauging from what I’ve seen, I doubt you do, either.”
Brynn remembered to shake her head and pretend that this was old news. “No, of course not. I’m sure—I mean, I know that Gregory is very proud of his heritage.”
Miranda looked puzzled again. “Usually not so that it shows. But I expect he let you beneath the layers since he married you. It would be horrific to keep up a pretense like that for long.”
“Absolutely,” Brynn agreed with conviction. Nothing less than horrific. “I thought I smelled waffles....”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot you hadn’t eaten. There are waffles, omelets, french toast, you name it—it’s all good. We have a minibrunch during the week, and on weekends it lasts till three in the afternoon, and we serve up everything but the woodw
ork. And there are times I wouldn’t swear we hadn’t thrown in a two-by-four, as well. But the guests love it.” She took Brynn’ arm. “The dining room’s this way. And everyone’s dying to meet you.”
Brynn. gulped. “Gregory has more family?”
Miranda chuckled. “Not exactly. I was referring to the staff—but they’re just like family. I think Dustin’s the only one who actually met you when he brought up your drafting table. The others wanted to meet you as well, but Ruth insisted that you be given your rest and some privacy. Now I think your time’s up!”
It was hard to take offense at Miranda’s cheerful manner or words. So she was going to be the center of attention. Inwardly, Brynn cringed, hating just such situations. It was one of the reasons she loved her chosen field; she didn’t have to deal with many attention-getting predicaments since it was Stephanie’s face that graced the funny papers. Smoothing her hands down the soft fabric of her long skirt, Brynn hoped for some composure.
But composure flew out the window when the staff surrounded her, introducing themselves, asking her dozens of questions, crowding out any responses she had to make. It was at once overwhelming and heartwarming. As the MacKenzie family had done, the resort staff welcomed her with warmth and affection. It amazed her to think such openness existed outside of sitcoms and fairy tales.
When she finally sat down at a table, she nearly forgot she was there to eat. Instead, she let her dazed senses take in only a portion of what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours.
“You forgot to get a plate—” an amused voice washed over her “—not that one of your new devotees wouldn’t be happy to fetch a plate, or fill it with what you want.”
Brynn raised startled eyes and focused them on Matt MacKenzie. He sat at a small table next to hers, some sort of ledger spread out in front of him, along with a carafe of coffee and a thick white mug.
“Good morning,” she replied cautiously. “Where do I get a plate?”
He gestured toward the buffet cart. “Unless you’d rather have something from the menu, but the brunch has the best of both—the day’s specials and the pick of the menu.”
The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie Page 3
