The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie

by Bonnie K. Winn

  To Matt, Plum Ridge was the embodiment of Eagle Point. The land was in his blood, along with his love of the unfettered acres. And that was all wrapped up in his dreams and his family.

  Staring at Brynn, he was trying hard to remember that she was family. But in his mind, it was still hard to reconcile. Especially after last night, and the heated dreams that had followed. And knowing nothing had been culminated from those dreams didn’t help.

  She’d been nervous as they drove to the ridge, clearly not comfortable being alone with him. As soon as they’d parked, Brynn had pulled off her shoes to run through the grass. Even now, she was collecting the last of the wildflowers, exclaiming over everything from the lowly buttercups to the exquisite evening primrose.

  Matt remembered Christina, Gregory’s last girlfriend. She’d have thought this entire expedition was a waste, not to mention time spent at Eagle Point waiting for word on Gregory. As he recalled, Christina had to be surgically separated from her day planner and then only on rare occasions. Her relationship with Gregory had to be squeezed in between meetings, business trips, late hours. Since Gregory had the same sort of agenda, Matt had wondered how they ever got together.

  And then there was Brynn. Seemingly uncomplicated, she was in fact full of layers. But as each layer was exposed, it seemed more impossible that she was his brother’s wife.

  And even more impossible that he was having so much difficulty remembering the fact that she was.

  Shading his eyes from the sun, Matt watched as Brynn studied the magnificent scenery. He knew the landscape was pretty overwhelming—sensory overload to most first-timers. But she couldn’t seem to see enough.

  He knew they should get started on the measurements, but he hated to begin, enjoying these unguarded moments.

  Brynn turned just then, a sudden grin splitting her face. “It’s like being on top of the world.”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious. He closed the distance between them, walking to the edge where she stood. “From here you can see three states.”

  She looked at him skeptically. “Is this one of those things you tell the gullible city slicker?”

  “Nope. You can see Utah, Idaho and Wyoming.” He took her arm and turned her toward the north. “Idaho.”

  “Oh.”

  “And over there—” when she didn’t turn, he put his hands at her waist, turning her toward the east “—is Wyoming.” As he spoke, he became intensely aware of where his hands now rested. He had an urge to slide them over the subtle curve of her hips, then up her torso toward her breasts. She’d worn the formfitting jeans again and there was no doubt he liked just how they “fit” her “form.” An image of her clad only in the brief bathing suit surfaced and his throat dried.

  She was suddenly still beneath his touch. Gone were her usual skittish moves. Very aware of his hold on her, Matt knew he had to either follow his desire or release her.

  Cursing silently, Matt dropped his hands. “And of course you can see Utah.”

  “What?” As she turned to him, he could see a thready pulse beating erratically in the hollow of her throat, nearly matching the whispery quality of her voice—the same betraying pulse he’d seen the night before.

  “The three states you can see from here,” he replied, realizing his voice was as gruff as hers. He cleared his throat. “And we don’t charge extra for the view.”

  “Good thing,” she tried to joke, realizing her experiment had bombed. Apparently there was no way the slate would be wiped clean. “It would take a king’s ransom to pay for this view.”

  Matt took a step back, needing to regain his equilibrium, needing to head far away from the dangerous thoughts that were growing more difficult to control. “More than a king’s ransom. It took blood and sweat.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  Matt gestured at the surrounding area with a broad sweep of his arm, taking refuge in the familiar. “This is MacKenzie land and it didn’t come cheap—and I don’t mean in dollars. It’s been in our family for generations. Generations of sacrifice, lives lost, hard work.”

  Brynn studied him, admiring this side of him, his raw, elemental craving for the solid promise of the land. “It means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  He met her gaze directly. “Yes.” That one simple word conveyed so much more.

  “It’s quite a legacy.”

  Matt thought briefly of Gregory’s disdain for the land, wondering how his wife would react to the same heritage. Trying to remember she was in fact Gregory’s wife. “And a great responsibility. Each generation has to improve and renew the land.”

  “And so now it’s your turn?” Brynn questioned, seeing the commitment in his eyes, the steady burn of his dedication; and realizing how much those qualities appealed to her.

  “Exactly.” He looked out at the land he held so dear, thinking of how difficult it had been to convince his father that it was time for Eagle Point to grow. “And change of any kind doesn’t come easy—especially when you’re steeped in tradition.”

  “What changes do you want to make?”

  “I like to call them improvements.” He couldn’t disguise the excitement in his voice. “New ski lifts—six-passenger high-speed detachable chairlifts that’ll transport skiers up the mountain at a thousand feet per minute—like the Silverlode in Park City.”

  “I’m not sure exactly what that means to a ski resort.”

  “They’ll replace the quads—putting us on the cutting edge of technology. And we need more snowmaking equipment—Snow-Cats, additional snow guns. I want the hanging-tower snowmaking guns—again to be on the cutting edge.”

  Brynn’s face was twisted into a question mark. “I don’t want to sound stupid, but why do you make snow? Doesn’t it just occur naturally?”

  Matt laughed, wishing it was that easy. “Skiers expect snow every single day of the season. And nature doesn’t always cooperate. So we have to be able to produce it.”

  “Is it as good as the famous ‘greatest snow on the earth’ the state’s always bragging about?”

  “Nothing can match or touch Utah powder, but skiing’s big business. Park City has ten million dollars invested in snowmaking equipment—and we have to keep up or take a back seat.”

  “I guess I just never realized....” Brynn looked boggled at the amount he’d suggested. “But you said there were other improvements, too.”

  Matt replayed what had been his own internal monologue, representing countless days and nights of planning, calculating, researching, and soul-searching. “I want to expand our ski school, install an indoor pool, build a new fitness center, and enlarge the skating oval so we can bring in big-name figureskating stars and shows like Sun Valley does.”

  “Whew! I can’t even begin to imagine....”

  “And that doesn’t include adding new cottages, renovating the lodge, putting hot tubs in all the balcony rooms, and building a four-star restaurant.”

  “As overwhelming as that sounds, I’m guessing that’s not all.”

  He liked her perceptiveness, her quick understanding. “Right. I want to install more outdoor hot tubs over the natural mineral springs—like our outside pools are.”

  Their eyes flew together, the previous night demanding to be remembered.

  Purposely he kept his voice brisk and businesslike, reminding himself that she was his sister-in-law. Nothing more. “But I want to terrace the hot tubs up the mountainside with a 360-degree view of the mountain peaks by day.”

  “And,” she prompted, adopting his tone.

  He grinned, realizing he’d told her more about his plans than anyone except his father, who was still officially the head of Eagle Point, despite Matt’s title of director. It was a relief to see his plans reflected in eyes that saw them in a completely new light, without preconceived opinions.

  “I want to court investors. Ones who’ll build condos in Gallagher. And I’d like to see heli-skiing.”

  “‘Heli-skiing’?” she echoe
d.

  “By helicopter—for strong intermediate or advanced skiers,” he replied, envisioning this new resource, one he wanted to develop along with an outside investor. “They ski untouched powder. Guides would show our guests where to find the best bowls and tree skiing they’ll ever find at ten thousand vertical feet.”

  She gasped. “It sounds dangerous—” her lips lifted into an unexpected grin “—but exciting.”

  “That’s why I want it to be developed as part of Eagle Point on a contract basis.”

  “You might as well spill the rest of it,” she suggested.

  Once again he admired her quick grasp. “For a world-class ski resort to work, the town needs multimedia entertainment, après-ski—after-ski—clubs, restaurants. I’d like to see more stores and theaters go in—enough diversity so that vacationers who don’t want to ski have plenty to do in the winter.”

  Brynn nibbled at her lower lip. “But wouldn’t that change everything? I mean... Right now Gallagher is charming and cozy. What you’re describing sounds so cosmopolitan. It would be like, like...”

  “Park City? Telluride? Sun Valley?”

  “Well, yes, I guess so.”

  “And all three revitalized the surrounding areas, brought in jobs that were needed, commerce for the existing shops and other businesses.”

  “I guess so.”

  Matt knew what she was thinking, had struggled over the same issues. But he also knew that without growth, they risked decline. “We have craftsmen in Gallagher who have clung to the old ways that are literally a dying art. Old-world glassblowing. Sand-pouring artistry—one of only three artists left in the country is right here in Gallagher. A wood artisan who makes burl bowls from a solid chunk of wood. And we have people who throw pottery on wheels they inherited from their grandparents. Dollmakers, painters, leather crafters. Silver and goldsmiths who make jewelry more unique than you’ll find anywhere else. Eagle Point brings a lot of trade to town, but with the kind of expansion I’m talking about, all these craftsmen would have avenues to sell their products and a steady flow of customers to buy them.”

  Brynn hesitated over the words. “But how would the townspeople feel? Everything would be so different for them.”

  “Progress and time bring change. The town isn’t just like it was when the founders built it. But the changes have made it better—electricity, paved roads, indoor plumbing. Don’t you think everyone in Gallagher likes having those things?”

  “Well, of course, but—”

  Matt voiced the reasoning that had brought him to this decision. “I imagine there was a quite a stir when all of those things were introduced, but the townspeople adjusted. And with the expansion there’d be enough opportunities that their children wouldn’t have to leave for the cities. They could find their opportunities right here in Gallagher.”

  “Are you going to divide up Eagle Point’s land? Sell it to developers?”

  Territorial instinct sprang into force. “No. That will never be an option. This land will always stay in the family—that’s a promise every MacKenzie makes to the following generation. The improvements I want affect the lodge and our business. Selling the land isn’t an improvement, it’s blasphemy.”

  Brynn hesitated. “Does everyone in the family feel so strongly about keeping the land?”

  Matt’s lips firmed, thinking of Gregory’s careless lack of concern. His brother wanted to subdivide the land and sell it to the highest bidder. Although Matt felt his soul curdle at the idea of strangers owning their property, Gregory was indifferent to the prospect, seeing only the profit that could be plowed into other businesses. He had used their father’s illness as an excuse, saying that it was time to act while the leadership of Eagle Point was uncertain. Luckily Frank MacKenzie had seen through the visionless plans.

  And now the responsibility had landed directly on Matt’s shoulders. But that was how he wanted it. “No, not everyone cares about the heritage. I guess Gregory didn’t tell you, but he’s in favor of splitting up the land and selling it off.”

  Shock filled her huge blue eyes. “That’s hard to believe. I can’t understand how anyone could give up something so rooted in family. I can scarcely imagine anything passing so solidly from generation to generation.” She glanced down for a moment. “All I have from my heritage are my grandmother’s stories. Not that they aren’t wonderful,” she rushed to add. “But, this... This is so tangible...so real.”

  “To hear you talk it’s as though Gregory never even mentioned Eagle Point.”

  “Of course he mentioned it, but nothing was said about selling it off in parcels.”

  Matt studied her face, seeing what appeared to be genuine concern. More concern than Gregory had ever shown. But, somehow, on this crisp fall day, with its endless sky of unobstructed blue, he didn’t want to think or talk about his brother anymore. Because his attraction to Brynn was adding another dimension, a level he knew was even more dangerous.

  “Ready to take the measurements?”

  She spun around. “I forgot we were here for a reason. I guess I got a little too caught up in the experience. Just tell me what to do.”

  It was a tempting, if unintentional offer. Instead of immediately starting their task he pointed out a herd of elk in the distance moving from the high country to the low country.

  “That’s incredible,” she murmured, watching the magnificent animals as they swept down from the mountaintop.

  Matt walked toward a stand of aspen and rubbed the dark splotches of missing bark. “See these?”

  She nodded.

  “From the elk. They leave their hoofmarks to show their passing.”

  “How do you know so much?”

  He laughed. “You know how to navigate the city, don’t you? Where to buy the best groceries, the neighborhoods that are desirable, how the freeways connect? That’s the lay of your land. Here we share it with wild game. Elk, coyotes, porcupines—they’ re our neighbors.”

  She shook her head. “You make it sound easy.”

  “It is when it’s in your blood.”

  She studied him for a moment, admiring more and more about him. When his gaze caught hers, she sent him a distracting smile. “It’s not in my blood, but I think I can manage to help take measurements.”

  Brynn proved to be an able assistant, catching on quickly to the nuances of measuring for an abstract project still in the drawing stages.

  When she struggled on the last measurement, unable to read the tape, Matt couldn’t resist teasing her. “Those glasses look powerful enough to see across the canyon.”

  She flushed, pushing at those same glasses. “They’re not for distance.”

  “They can’t be just for reading,” he dismissed. But then her face flushed suddenly. “Or are they?”

  “I’ll just get a little closer,” she hedged.

  She started toward the end of the tape but Matt was faster, cutting her off en route. She looked around, but behind her was only the canyon drop-off. Matt could tell she was scrambling for an escape, but he wasn’t giving any quarter.

  “Don’t you want to get the right measurement?” she asked, her voice squeaking despite her obvious effort to control it.

  “I want to know all kinds of things,” he replied, enjoying the latest change in her expression, the sudden wariness.

  “If I were Stephanie, I could tell you something outrageous,” she tried to joke, having backed up as far as she could safely go.

  “And as Brynn, don’t you know something equally outrageous?”

  Her mouth opened, then shut again without making a sound.

  Giving in to the urge that had been plaguing him nearly since the first moment they’d met, Matt reached toward her glasses, sliding them forward and then pulling them away.

  She blinked for a moment, obviously rattled without the security of the heavy-rimmed protectors-ones she’d worn even into the hot tub.

  Huge blue eyes, fringed in remarkably thick, dark lashes were a s
hock. Although he’d guessed she must be a looker to attract Gregory, and now knew she had a world-class figure, Matt wasn’t prepared for the full impact.

  Glasses removed, and with the breeze blowing the black curls away from her face, her delicate almost-ethereal features stood in stark relief. Brynn’s Irish heritage was painted across her ivory skin as clearly as a well-drawn map of County Cork.

  Matt simply couldn’t understand why she hid such beauty in every conceivable way. The hairstyle, oversize glasses and baggy clothes all combined into an effective disguise.

  He reached out to catch one flyaway curl, feeling its silky texture. While he’d already noticed the luster and wild appeal of her untamed hair, he suspected she purposely kept it that way as yet another layer of camouflage. But why?

  And how had the shortsighted Gregory uncovered this treasure?

  Without thinking, Matt eased one thumb over the smooth skin of her cheek, discovering another texture of silk.

  When Brynn trembled beneath his touch, he spotted the wild, betraying jump at the base of her throat. His gaze zoned in on full, tender lips, bare of lipstick, yet lush with color. Without thinking, he bent his head toward hers, wondering if her mouth would taste as delicious as it looked.

  Just a fraction away from her lips, Brynn’s watch alarm buzzed, loud and insistent.

  Jerking backward, Matt spun away from her, knowing a lit torch wouldn’t have singed deeper. What was he thinking? She was his brother’s wife!

  Clearing his throat, Matt spoke toward the mountain in the opposite direction, rather than toward her. “You’re right, we’d better finish the measuring. The light’s tricky. We don’t want to lose it.”

  Her voice was thready, barely more than a whisper. “Of course.” She held her hand against the warm spot on her cheek where his fingers had lingered.

  But Matt didn’t notice. He was too busy putting distance between them as he stalked to the other side of the grassy slope. “You’d better find a way home soon, brother,” he muttered.

  Chapter Nine