The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie

by Bonnie K. Winn

  “Course not,” Andy declared, caught in Mick’s enthusiasm. “Gregory always wins.”

  “He’s very clever,” Heather added.

  “Yes, he is,” Lucille agreed, seeming to finally realize that her question had disturbed the children. Bright eyes lit on Brynn as she tried to shift the topic. “Since we know he’s going to be all right, let’s hear about you.”

  “She draws Stephanie,” Andy added between bites of ice cream.

  “Stephanie?” Lucille questioned.

  “The comic strip,” Brynn explained.

  “In the newspaper?” Lucille questioned with new interest.

  “Sure,” Heather replied with pride. “She’s famous.”

  “I wouldn’t say that—” Brynn began.

  “Brynn’s just modest,” Heather explained. “She practically saved Gregory’s life!”

  “What’s this?” Mick asked.

  “Gregory was in a burning building,” Heather began.

  Lucille and Mick drew in matching gulps of air. “What?”

  “Actually, there was a dog—” Brynn tried again.

  “And you saved them both?” Lucille exclaimed.

  “That’s not—” Brynn started.

  “That’s why Gregory likes animals now,” Andy said as he struggled with his cone, catching a sliding mound of ice cream before it toppled.

  “He does?” Lucille queried. “Well, that’s unusual for him, but I guess sharing a traumatic experience will do that for you.”

  “But—”

  “And Gregory has quite a way of expressing his gratitude,” Mick said with a twinkle. “He marries his lady to the rescue.”

  “That’s not exactly how—”

  “And she taught him how to not be afraid of heights,” Heather added.

  “He can even ride in hot-air balloons now,” Andy said.

  Brynn fervently hoped that no one put Gregory to this test when he returned.

  “You have transformed Gregory!” Lucille exclaimed. “His fear of heights is one reason he never wanted to stay here. It’s hard to live on top of a mountain when you become sick just coming and going.”

  “And sometimes people in the Stephanie cartoon are real,” Heather added in a rush. “So Gregory has been in them lots.”

  With a gulp, Brynn realized that small-town gossip traveled swiftly, if not accurately. “Just because—”

  “Then you and Gregory have done some of the crazy things in that comic?” Mick nearly roared, clapping his hand down on the weathered wooden table.

  Visions of this new and no-doubt-embellished tale rose in Brynn’s mind. “There’s a lot of fiction to—”

  “Sure, you have to spice it up,” Mick agreed, still laughing. “But now that I think about it, I can see our Gregory in just those scrapes.”

  “Your Gregory?” Brynn questioned with a sense of foreboding.

  “He’s our godson,” Mick explained.

  Lately, Brynn wondered if her foot had been permanently planted in her mouth.

  “And we’d hoped he and our daughter Alyson might marry someday,” Lucille added.

  “Lucille!” Mick shot her a reproving look, but Lucille waved him away.

  “Brynn should know our history. Besides, obviously they’re not going to get married since Gregory has chosen Brynn.” Lucille turned her full attention on Brynn. “Do you know if Gregory told Alyson about your marriage?”

  “I...I’m not sure...but perhaps it would be better coming from him,” Brynn managed.

  Lucille drew her brows together. “I suppose you’re right. And it’s not like they had an exclusive relationship. Frankly, I don’t understand young people today. Alyson told us she needed to explore her options, whatever that means. Personally, I think if she cared about Gregory, she should have concentrated on him.” Lucille had the grace to look embarrassed. “That didn’t come out just the way I meant.”

  “Never does,” Mick muttered.

  “You’re a lovely girl,” Lucille continued, reaching her hand out to pat Brynn’s. At that moment a fat drop of sticky ice cream dropped, hitting Lucille’s hand and splattering.

  Brynn’s unattended cone drooped as she tried to hand Lucille a crumpled paper napkin.

  “You keep it,” Lucille insisted, pushing the napkin back to Brynn. “Looks like you’ll need it more than I will.”

  At that moment the woman inside the Hamburger Hut called out an order number.

  “That’ll be us,” Mick announced. “We’re taking our burgers home—Lucille can’t miss Oprah.”

  “But we’ll see you again soon,” Lucille inserted, holding her sticky hand awkwardly as though not sure what to do with it. “Now that we’re family.”

  As they walked away, Brynn realized that the “family” was growing at an alarming rate. And turning to her two companions in crime, she realized she’d just added more fodder to the gossip hotline.

  A familiar truck pulled up to the curb, parking in front of the Hamburger Hut.

  “Matt!” Andy and Heather called out, spotting their older brother.

  “Hey, brats,” he answered fondly.

  They didn’t take offense, instead crowding around him. The difference in their ages, Brynn suspected, elevated him beyond mere brother.

  “What are we having?” he questioned, crowding Andy as he pretended to take a predatory interest in his ice-cream cone.

  “We could be having more ice cream if you’ll pay,” Andy responded guilelessly as he bit into the cone, quickly finishing the one he was eating.

  Matt pulled out a few bills and peeled them off, handing both to Heather. “Andy, you can order whatever you want, but Heather’s in charge of the money. With what’s left you can buy something at Brewer’s.”

  Andy let out a whoop. Brewer’s was the store they’d lingered in the longest. Carrying everything from bubblegum to hammers, soccer balls to laundry baskets, T-shirts to Nintendo games, it was a kids’ paradise.

  “And if we don’t spend too much here, we’ll have more there,” Andy translated quickly. “Come on, Heather. Let’s forget about the ice cream.”

  Heather delicately licked at her ice-cream cone, plenty of it remaining since she hadn’t demolished hers as Andy had. “When I’m through.”

  Andy groaned. “How come she’s got to carry the money, Matt? She’s so slow!”

  “You’ll live,” Matt replied without sympathy. “The last time I gave you the money, you brought home ten dollars’ worth of live bait and baby mice. Mother nearly skinned us both.”

  Brynn grinned. She doubted anyone could skin someone as overpowering as Matt, but the vision of Ruth trying to was an amusing one.

  “I was lots younger then,” Andy protested.

  Matt plucked Andy’s baseball cap off, turning it around so that it sat at a smart angle. “You’re right. You were barely out of the cradle. Must have been at least three months ago.”

  Heather finished the last of her ice-cream cone. “Come on, Andy. With me holding the money, you can decide first what you really want so we don’t spend the money and then wish we hadn’t.”

  Andy grumbled, yet jumped up and walked with his sister down the street.

  Seeing that Matt’s gaze rested on her, Brynn shored up a smile and tried to act casual. But his words threw her.

  “You been trying to avoid me?”

  Since that was exactly what she’d done, Brynn didn’t know quite how to answer. “Why would I do that?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I’ve just been busy. My Stephanie calendar was due—”

  “So late in the year? Aren’t the ones for next year already in production?”

  “It’s one for the following year and I’ve got a deadline on my greeting cards and—”

  “Whoa.” He held up his hands. “So, you’ve got a good store of excuses.”

  “They’re not—”

  “I see you’ve left the glasses off.”

  Thrown off track, self-consciousl
y she reached to where her glasses normally sat before letting her hand fall away. “Yes.”

  “Looks good.”

  Brynn concentrated on her melting ice-cream cone, realizing that between Gregory’s godparents and now Matt, she’d only had a few bites of the delicious frozen custard. “Thanks.”

  Her self-confidence had increased since she’d come to Eagle Point, Brynn realized. And as her self-confidence increased, her need for the protective barrier of her glasses had diminished.

  “I see you’re traveling practically solo,” Matt commented.

  Brynn cocked her head. “With Heather and Andy in tow?”

  “But without your menagerie.”

  Brynn tried not to look pained. “As you know, they’re hard to travel with. I can handle Lancelot. But you saw how bad Snookems’s sight is—the trouble she can get into. And Bossy’s just too vocal to take out in public.”

  “Heather tells me you got him from the shelter where you do volunteer work.”

  “No one else would take him,” Brynn mused. “His repartee isn’t what most people are looking for.”

  “Unlike your lifesaving dog.”

  Uncomfortably, Brynn recalled how Heather and Andy had stretched and enlarged the truth just a few minutes earlier. She wondered if they’d told Matt that Lancelot was the dog that had dragged Gregory from the burning building.

  She wished the kids wouldn’t embroider the stories. Brynn didn’t need any help in that direction. She was doing fine, fabricating a life for herself and Gregory on her own. She wondered how he would deal with everything she’d told his family and friends—especially since she wouldn’t be around to translate and explain.

  A babble of feminine voices approached. Glancing up, she saw some familiar faces. Judging from Matt’s expression, he didn’t welcome the interruption.

  “Brynn!” Jean practically squealed. “I’m so glad we ran into you. I just heard the most exciting thing about you.”

  “You did?” Brynn croaked, dreading the worst.

  “I ran into Lucille Stratton,” Jean explained, all but clucking her tongue. “She told us how you pulled Gregory from a burning building and saved him. And, that if it wasn’t for you, everyone in the building would have perished, including the animals!”

  Matt cocked one eyebrow.

  Brynn saw his disbelieving expression and cursed her unfortunate meeting with the Strattons. “I’m afraid that she’s exaggerated—”

  “Lucille said you were modest,” Becky added. “She wasn’t kidding.”

  “You’re a lot like that courageous character you draw in your comic strip,” Jean declared. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Me?” Brynn nearly choked. “Like Stephanie?”

  “Of course. I could see it right away,” Becky told her. “I’m sure you can’t make all that stuff up. Part of it must come from real life.”

  “Like the time she enlisted her boyfriend in the Foreign Legion,” Karen breathed in excitement.

  “Surely you don’t think I—”

  “And the time she had a load of manure delivered to her boss’s house in the middle of the night and they dumped it in his swimming pool.”

  “I don’t actually work directly for one person, so I couldn’t—”

  “Or the time that Stephanie ran an ad for a garage sale at her ex-best friend’s house starting at six in the morning!” Laughing helplessly, Jean clutched her sides.

  “Or when she reported her neighbor to ‘America’s Most Wanted’!” Becky recalled.

  “You must realize how much fiction there is to drawing a strip,” Brynn tried desperately, refusing to meet Matt’s gaze. “So, you see—”

  “And then there was the time Stephanie rerouted her boyfriend’s mail to a radio shrink who read it out loud over the air,” Karen recalled. “She told him it was a good way for his mother to hear from him.”

  Brynn shifted uncomfortably. “They say fact is stranger than fiction, but in these cases—”

  “No wonder Gregory married you!” Jean enthused. “Your life must be like a never-ending carnival ride.”

  “You have no idea,” Brynn admitted. And this was one carnival ride that was spinning out of control.

  Unexpectedly she met Matt’s gaze.

  And that carnival ride was definitely sending her in circles.

  “Ladies, I hate to break this up, but Brynn and I have to get going.” Matt unfolded his impressive height from the wooden bench. Not giving her time to agree or disagree, Matt took her arm.

  Amid the murmured goodbyes Brynn considered her escape, but doubted she could make it far.

  “So, what diabolical plan are you hatching now?” Matt asked as they walked across the street.

  She stopped abruptly. “‘Plan’?”

  “Am I going to see my name in lights? Or spelled out in bikini underwear across the Alpine Slide?”

  Brynn started to sputter when she saw the laughter lurking in his eyes. Still, she wasn’t sure if he was referring to her comic strip or her outrageous tales. “I thought you didn’t approve of Stephanie’s antics.”

  “Maybe not, but it sure as hell was funny.”

  The absurdity of the situation struck her at the same time, and laughter erupted. Before she could guess what was happening or why the mood had suddenly lightened, Brynn laughed with Matt until she nearly collapsed against him.

  Wiping tears from her eyes, she wagged a quivering finger at him. “You are a bad influence.”

  “This from a woman who single-handedly concocts torture between the sexes? Enough to keep every man in America running for cover?”

  Her finger wavered, then lowered as another fit of giggles struck her. “I guess I hadn’t realized the true power of the pen.”

  “Worse than a ground-to-air missile,” Matt confirmed.

  “At the rate gossip inflates and spreads around this town, word will be out by morning that I’ve declared war on Idaho!”

  Matt grinned. “Just think what fun you’ll have blowing up all those potatoes.”

  Their laughter trailed across the street as they convulsed into fit after fit of hilarity. Forgetting the observant group of women, the children shopping nearby, and all the constraints that had fallen between them, they gave in to the mild hysterics of shared nonsense.

  And from across the street the ladies watched, nodded, and collectively wondered when the absent husband-and-brother would return. And a few wondered just what Gregory would find when he did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brynn liked this time of day at the lodge, the sun still new in the sky, the crisp early-morning air redolent with the tang of pine, fir and cedar, and sprinkled with the chorus of songbirds that hadn’t yet migrated south. She recognized the distinctive birds—MacGillivray’s warblers, Frank had told her.

  Strolling out on one of the upper wooden decks that angled to one side of the lodge, Brynn clasped a steaming mug of coffee, relishing the warmth, welcoming the rush of caffeine. She leaned against the railing, looking out over the circular drive that led to the parking lot, enjoying her clear view of the front of the lodge.

  She had taken to rising early since Matt took advantage of the difference in time zones to call the State Department early each morning. But like too many of the previous mornings, they had no solid news. Impatient with the delays, Matt was talking now about hiring a private investigator and possibly even mercenaries to find Gregory. But Frank was afraid that might endanger Gregory even more.

  Even though it was early, there was already plenty of movement. One of the resort’s shuttles was loading up departing passengers. Luggage was scattered about and the chatter of guests drifted through the air. Brynn knew that in a few hours there would be another equally excited group—guests just arriving for their visit. She could see the appeal of innkeeping—new faces and old, the constant change, no two days the same.

  It was a good life, she realized—especially for people like the MacKenzies. Filled with that co
ntented thought, she glanced down again, her gaze scanning the wide front porch of the lodge. It skipped along, then stopped suddenly.

  Miranda and Edward stood at one edge of the porch. And next to him were his suitcase and duffel bag. Unabashedly staring, Brynn watched, hoping the luggage belonged to someone else. But just then the shuttle driver walked up to Edward and he indicated the bags at his feet. Heart in her throat, Brynn watched as Miranda valiantly bade him goodbye.

  Certain that Edward would extend his stay since he and Miranda had hit it off so well, Brynn had confidently told Miranda that she was sure this was not to be a short vacation romance. Seeing that he really planned to leave, Brynn fiercely regretted her reckless words and ignorant confidence. As disappointed as she was, Brynn could only imagine how crushed Miranda must feel.

  As she watched, Miranda kept a smile fixed on her face. At what cost? Brynn wondered. Had she told Edward how she felt? Or had the past left too deep an imprint for that kind of truth?

  Miranda reached out and smoothed his lapel. It was a sweet, loving and most revealing gesture. Then Edward picked up that same hand, kissing it gently.

  Now, now he would tell her he was staying, Brynn thought, and instruct the driver to retrieve his bags. But as she watched, Edward briefly touched Miranda’s face before turning away and climbing into the van.

  Brynn gripped her mug so tightly the coffee sloshed. How could Edward leave? He and Miranda had taken to one another from the moment they’d met. Sure that he was the one who would reverse the Harvest Ball curse for Miranda, Brynn knew she’d built Miranda up to believe it, too.

  Brynn watched Miranda as she lifted her hand in a wave. As the van drove off, Miranda took a few steps forward, her hand faltering, then finally dropping to her side. As the vehicle navigated the winding driveway and then finally disappeared down the road, Miranda still watched.

  Without the chatter of the departing guests, it was painfully silent. Still, Miranda stood, unmoving in the solitary quiet.

  Brynn quashed her urge to rush downstairs, suspecting that Miranda wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion.

  Had it only been a few days since she’d celebrated her newfound confidence? And what had she done with that confidence? Given bad advice to Miranda, causing her to get hurt. Brynn wanted to kick herself. What made her think she could go from a life of daydreams to dispensing romantic counseling?