by Holt,Debra
Whatever it was, she dragged her focus away from the man beside her and locked it firmly onto the couple now standing at the altar. If she had somewhere to move her hand to, she would have—if she could have extricated it from his without a scene. Trace made no move to release it, so they sat side by side, linked not only by their hands, but by a deeper bond forged in shared memories and heartache.
The ceremony was filled with solemnity and humor, joy and tears. Good tears, and Macy wasn’t immune to them, either. A time or two she used her free hand to hastily brush away moisture from her eyes. Jeb looked a bit uncomfortable in the fancy suit Clairee had bought for him. She looked beautiful in a beige lace and chiffon top and long skirt, still managing to be a blushing, happy bride … again … after fifty years. Macy envied them. They had faced their storms and trials and still managed to stay together and in love. They were the blessed ones.
The ceremony was soon over, and the congregation filed out row by row, heading to the Civic Center across the street for the reception and dance. When it was their turn, Macy stood and was able to retrieve her hand at last.
“Ladies, after you.” Travis stood at the end of the pew and nodded for them to go ahead of him and Trace.
“Wasn’t Clairee beautiful? I loved her outfit.” Annie walked beside Macy up the aisle and out of the church. “I need to go to the car and get the present to take to the reception.”
“I’ll walk you over there,” Travis spoke up. “I’ve got a couple of pies in the cooler box in the truck that Mrs. Kelso baked for the occasion.”
“I had to park across from Walt’s store. Where are you parked?” Annie asked.
“I’m at the side of his building.” He turned to Macy and Trace. “We’ll catch up with you two at the Civic Center. You can find us a good table.” The brother and sister walked away without giving either of them a chance to reply. If Macy didn’t know better, she would have sworn she saw a slight wink pass between the two. But Annie was her friend and wouldn’t do such a thing. Would she?
“Trace, it’s good to see you again. I enjoyed sharing that pie and coffee last week,” Pastor Robert said as the two men shook hands outside the church. “Thanks again for agreeing to join the mentoring program for our youth. I’ve already had some requests for you. Seems some of our guys have their sights set on being rodeo cowboys.”
“Well, I’m glad to do it for you. I’ll be in touch early in the week to set up a schedule.”
Pastor Robert gave a wide smile to Macy and a quick hug around the shoulders. “This young lady has been doing much the same thing with some of our girls in the church. You two might combine forces sometime.”
She and Trace both nodded and smiled and continued down the steps. They’d just ignore that suggestion. Together they headed toward the Civic Center.
“So Pastor Robert roped you into his pet mentoring project, too?” Macy laughed. “I had no idea you’d be interested in doing volunteer work.”
Trace tossed a glance at her. “Why not? You think I shouldn’t do it? That I’ll taint them with my wild cowboy ways?”
Macy shot him a look. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant. I’m just surprised that you’ll have time, what with the building of your house and all.”
He shrugged. “You make time each week to do all those errands for your ladies around town. I can find the time to help out in my way. But I had no idea you had work here at the church in your busy schedule too.”
“Oh, it’s just a couple of hours a week, teaching basic horsemanship to a handful of girls who don’t have a lot of opportunity to learn about horses and such. It’s really fun for me, and it helps in getting the horses a workout too. Everyone benefits.”
“I have to say I’m impressed with how widely known your training abilities have become. I’ve heard good things from so many of the area ranchers. You have a barn full of clients and a waiting list. Can’t get much better than that.”
His words were genuine, and they brought a glow inside her that he had noticed her hard work and what she had done with her life.
Here and there, people spoke to them, and they nodded or made necessary replies. Macy was much too aware of the man beside her in the dark suit, polished boots, and cream Stetson. She was glad she had splurged and purchased a new outfit for the occasion. The sleeveless, black shantung dress had a square-cut neckline and fitted waist. Its flared skirt hit just above her knees. Strappy, black, high-heeled sandals completed the outfit. Annie had helped with her hair, catching it up on top of her head and leaving wispy tendrils to complement her cheeks and long neck in a sexy styling. Macy’s grandmother’s pearl studs were her only jewelry.
The touch of Trace’s hand to her back as they walked sent tingles down her spine that pooled deep within her and made her vitally aware of him. It was a bittersweet thrill, one that reminded her how extra-special she used to feel to be at his side … to be Trace’s girl.
Almost as soon as they stepped inside the Civic Center, Emily caught Macy’s eye. She waved a hand, motioning them in her direction. “Monty and I have a table if you two want to join us.”
“Annie and Travis are with us.”
“That’s perfect. We have room for them, too.”
Macy was glad to have them there to act as a buffer between her and Trace while they waited on the other couple. When Annie and Travis did appear, the three men left the table to collect drinks for all of them. Trace seemed to be doing his best to keep things light and easy, and Macy was grateful for that. Slowly, she felt herself relax and begin to enjoy the evening’s festivities.
“I have to hand it to you. You certainly know how to throw a party,” Macy teased Jeb a while later as she and the groom moved around the dance floor in an easy two-step.
“This is all Clairee’s doing. This shindig was her idea. If I had my way, we’d have gone down to Galveston for some fishing. But I guess this is okay. She said she’d not make me go through all this again for another twenty-five years at least.” The grin split his face and broadened his trademark silver handlebar mustache. “She deserves it though,” he relented. “When we said our vows the first time around, we eloped across the border. Couldn’t understand much of what the old padre who married us said, but it must have took, since we managed to make it for the last fifty years.”
Macy grinned in return. “I’m glad it did. I’m so happy for you both. You’re looking good, too. Guess it’s all of Clairee’s care.”
“Care? That woman can be as tough as any drill sergeant when she sets her mind to it. I can’t get away with anything.”
Macy shook her head. She was trying to ignore the fact Trace was also on the dance floor with Clairee. She’d been somewhat surprised that the man who’d seldom sat out any dance when she’d last known him hadn’t been on the dance floor much at all that evening. He had danced with his sister and with Emily, and now he was dancing with Clairee. The rest of the time, he’d been conversing with the other men at the table or visiting with different groups of people around the room. She tried not to pay too much attention because a couple of times, she’d found her glance caught and held by those Cartwright green eyes, and she’d had to apologize to her partner for missing a step or two.
She made it back to their table as the band began the first strains of the next song. Annie jumped up and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the dance floor again. “The first ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe’ of the evening! We can’t sit this one out. It’s tradition!”
Macy laughed at Annie’s insistence. It was true. “Cotton-Eyed Joe” was one dance they never sat through. Emily and Monty joined them. Macy slid her arm around Annie’s waist and turned with a grin to slide her other around Emily. Except Emily hadn’t moved in next to her. Trace returned her grin with one of his and then their line of six people was complete. There was no time to hesitate as they moved into the fast dance steps. It was all the more difficult for Macy to concentrate on the steps while being jostled into Trace’s side so much.
His arm held her steady, and as memories of line dancing with this group and the fun they’d had came back, she let herself go with the flow.
As the last beats of the piece died away, the line of dancers collapsed against each other, laughing and trying to catch their breaths. Monty and Emily stepped away into the next dance as the band moved right into a smooth waltz. Annie and Travis headed for liquid refreshment. After only a brief hesitation, Trace pulled Macy into his arms, and they moved off to the flow of the music.
Trace was a great dancer. He’d always been a natural at it and made his partners look good, too. He had broadened Macy’s experience beyond the simple line version she knew from school or rodeo dances. She remembered his patience and how he never seemed to mind taking his time with her. She had felt special being held in his arms. This made concentration more than a little difficult with his closeness. It hadn’t been long before it seemed they had danced together forever. Even now, her steps followed his almost without effort or thinking. Macy had forgotten how much she enjoyed gliding around a dance floor in his arms. Don’t overthink … just enjoy for once.
“Those two really look happy today. I’m glad they were able to have this celebration,” Trace spoke up. “Jeb seems to be doing great after his hospital stay.”
“Clairee will make certain he continues to follow doctor’s orders. She told him she expects another party on their seventy-fifth,” Macy replied with a light laugh. “I hope they make it. They deserve it.”
“Weddings are happy occasions. I couldn’t help notice you were a bit sad at times during the ceremony.” He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Maybe shed a tear or two—”
“I wasn’t sad!” She went on the defensive, her chin raised. “Weddings bring tears of happiness for the couple.”
“Oh. Well, I couldn’t help but think it had to be at least a little difficult for you to be there … at a wedding … in the church where we would have gotten married. I know I found myself thinking about that during the ceremony. Thinking about how things might have been—how they should have been.”
His admission surprised Macy. “Really? I didn’t think that would bother you.”
His laugh expressed more regret than humor. “Then you’ll be really shocked to know that I’ve thought of that day many times over the years. Never more so than sitting there, beside you, this afternoon.”
“Why are you talking about this now?” She searched his face, but his eyes were on some distant point across the floor. “What good does it do?”
“I don’t know that it does any good at all. Except it was a time in my life that I’m ashamed of—one I wish I could take back.”
Great. There it was. He regretted that whole time? Macy’s heart splintered a little more at Trace’s words, but she was determined not to let him see. She struggled to keep her voice steady as she responded. “Well, I’m sure you’re more relieved than ashamed. You escaped with your freedom intact. You didn’t have to bear the brunt of the pity from the people in town or the stigma of being the poor, jilted bride, left at the altar.”
Trace’s gaze narrowed on her. “Relieved?” His own tone was husky. “There’s no relief from the ache I feel inside when I’m reminded each day and night of what I lost when I left you. If I could go back in time, I would not have left. I would’ve walked that aisle with you and been a happy man. But I can’t turn back the clock. What I can do though is ask for your forgiveness and hope you’ll find it in your heart to trust me again.”
“You know, I think I’ve had enough dancing. It’s late and—” But Trace grabbed hold of her hand and led her toward the exit. He seemed intent on letting nothing and no one stop them, ignoring people who motioned for them to join them or tried to speak with him. Macy didn’t want a scene in front of everyone, so she followed.
Trace slowed his steps and pulled them both to a stop at a bench under a towering oak on the park-like grounds of the building, away from the noise inside. Twinkle lights strung among the branches of the smaller trees and the three-quarter moon above combined to make a romantic setting, but Macy was determined to be immune.
“Why are we out here? There’s nothing more to say between us, Trace. No matter how much you talk it to death, you can’t change the past. There’s no going back.”
“I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to talk about the past. I want to move on, to get past the pain.” His hands on her elbows drew her to him until the heat from his body brought every nerve ending alive with its warmth. His gaze moved across her face. “I want—I need your forgiveness.”
“Why is it so important to you? What difference could it make?”
“If you can forgive me, then hopefully you can believe in me again, and we can begin to rebuild the trust between us. You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten the good times we shared. There are a lot of memories we share that weren’t bad.”
Her gaze couldn’t resist the hypnotic pull of his. Slowly, she shook her head. Macy couldn’t deny his words. “Yes, there were some good memories. But time has a way of playing tricks on a person’s mind. Maybe I can’t tell if they were truly good or if I wanted them to be that way. Guess that doesn’t make sense.”
“It does. There were times on the road, a memory would come to mind and I would find myself thinking the same thing … had I only imagined it had been that way? But then, I found there were truths I couldn’t doubt … I hadn’t imagined them.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the way your laughter could take a bad moment and turn it into sunshine in an instant. The way you never let me get too full of myself, yet you always were my biggest fan whether I came up a winner or stayed down in the arena dirt, empty-handed. Or the way you felt in my arms and made me feel ten feet tall because I had your heart. Those are only a few of the truths that never changed in my mind. They drew me back here. That and the need to do this one more time.”
His hand slid around her neck and brought her toward him as he lowered his head to lay claim to lips that were slightly parted in surprised anticipation. Ten years since she’d last been in his arms and felt his kisses. Ten years since her heart had been awake and every sense aware. Yet with just one touch from Trace, Macy came alive again, realizing she had only fooled herself. Her heart had simply been in hibernation—going through the motions of living, thinking she had moved on and left him in the past. How wrong could a girl be?
Her body responded and her arms encircled his neck as they had done so many times before. This had been coming as sure as the sun rose each day … a collision course neither could avoid. Disaster was written all over it. Why couldn’t she stop herself? Trace’s touch had always been the same for her—like a lit match touched to dry kindling, an instantaneous combustion always consumed them.
But Trace pulled back without warning. “This wasn’t how I planned for this discussion to go this evening. I didn’t want to push things. I shouldn’t have done—”
The words were a dousing of cold water to her senses and a knife to her heart. Practically the same words he had begun his goodbye letter to her with ten years before. She pushed herself out of his arms as a frigid hollowness engulfed her body where his touch had been. She had misread his intentions. Time couldn’t be turned backward, no matter how much her heart ached for it to be the way it had been once upon a time. But she had to protect her world … the one that did not include a maverick cowboy.
“No, you shouldn’t have … and neither should I. It was a big mistake, and I want no part of the past or your apologies. All the talk about forgiveness and trust is just that—talk. You may have everyone else fooled with your nice gestures and talk about being home where you belong, but not me. Never again. And one place you do not belong is on my ranch or anywhere near me with your words and kisses reminding me of a really horrible time in my life. You stay away from now on.” Macy was shaking by the time she finished. The words had flown from her, fueled by anger and hurt from yet another rejection.
Trace reached for her arm. She jerked it from his grasp as if his hand had stung her.
“Macy, please, we need to talk. Let me take you home where we can talk in private. We can’t leave it like this.”
“Go someplace private … with you? You have an exaggerated view of your charms, cowboy. You think you’ll sweet-talk me into seeing things your way? That might have been the way when I was younger and naive, but not now. Find someone else to fall for your smooth lines. I’ve heard everything I intend to hear from you. We’re done. I may have to live in the same town with you, but I don’t have to like it.”
This time, he didn’t stop her when she turned and walked quickly away, intent on finding Annie and getting far away from him. It was hard to hold her dignity intact when her vision was blurred by the sudden influx of moisture in her eyes, but she would do it or die.
Silly little fool. The words echoed through her mind with every step she took.
Chapter 9
Trace tossed the hammer into the metal toolbox with a muttered curse. He’d hoped being out at his house and pounding nails into the wood would help him work out his frustration and make him feel better. It wasn’t working. Disgust filled his being—disgust at his inability to concentrate on his work, disgust that he wasn’t able to move on and get past Macy Donovan, just plain disgust in everything. He’d let her walk away from him that night after their kiss. Maybe he shouldn’t have.
Memories of that kiss were keeping him awake at night and frustrating him during the daylight hours. He’d meant to be gentle and take things one step at a time. However, when he’d touched her, all sane thought and reason had gone out the window. A deep hunger had risen within him, a longing that only she could satisfy. A soft whimper from her had sent his pulse spiking off the charts. Thankfully, he’d remembered where they were. It had taken all his willpower to pull back. Her reaction to the kiss had caught him off guard. He’d evidently read things all wrong.
