by Holt,Debra
But all that mattered now was that Trace would be okay. She wouldn’t ask for anything else ever. Please be listening, God. I really need You to hear me right now. Trace has tried so hard, and he has changed. I didn’t want to see it, but he has. Even if he doesn’t ever speak to me again, I can be okay with that. Just let him be all right. Please.
A little more than an hour after Trace’s arrival in the ER, a doctor and nurse came through the doorway and moved to stand in the circle of friends in the waiting room. A hush settled everyone in their spots.
“Well, I can tell you that he’ll live.”
A general and almost unified sigh went up from the group at the words. A load had suddenly shifted its weight from the room.
“That horse did quite a tap dance on him. Why he doesn’t have more than a few cuts and some damaged ribs, I have no idea. Guess there was a guardian angel sitting on his shoulder. A few days of rest and then easing back into his routine—and that doesn’t include getting on any broncs—and he’ll be his same old self again.”
“Is he awake?” Annie spoke up.
“Yes, that’s why I waited to come out here. He was unconscious when he came in, so we ran some tests on him … checked out his head and other things. He came to a little while ago and is responding to questions. I’ll let his family go in and see him, and then we’ll make sure he gets some sound sleep tonight. The rest of you can check in on him tomorrow.”
Travis stood and shook the man’s hand. He motioned for Annie, and they headed toward the doorway. Then they stopped. Travis turned around and looked in Macy’s direction. He nodded at her. “Come on, Macy.”
She didn’t want to argue with him, but she felt it wasn’t her place to be joining them. Annie sensed her hesitation and smiled at her, holding out her hand. Slowly, Macy took it and allowed herself to be drawn along. They hadn’t transferred Trace to a room yet, so they found him in the third triage room on the right. Actually, they heard him first.
“Those were perfectly good boots you cut off. You know how much they cost me in Las Vegas? Where are the rest of my clothes and my hat?”
“Put a lid on it, little brother,” Travis said, stepping into the room first. “These people were doing their job in saving your worthless hide. You can get another pair of boots anytime.”
“That’s right,” Annie piped up, moving to stand next to his bed. “As a member of the medical profession, I can speak for them when I say you need to shut up and do as you’re told for once.”
“I don’t need the two of you in here trying to boss me around. And you aren’t a medical doctor, little sister. All I need are my clothes and to get out of here.”
Macy hung back near the doorway. Once she’d heard his voice, those darn tears had welled into her eyes again and a knot had formed in her throat. The relief of knowing he was going to be okay— Thanks, God. I owe You one. And you too, Gram. She had a sudden feeling that her grandmother might be the guardian angel looking over Trace.
“You’ve got three of us ready to hog-tie you to that bed, little brother, so settle down.”
“Three? Who’s the third?” Trace moved his head a bit on his pillow, and Annie and Travis shifted their attention to where Macy stood, the battered black hat still clasped against her chest.
Trace blinked a time or two, whether from the meds or at the unexpected sight before him. He fell silent. Travis looked from his brother to Macy and back again to Trace. “You mind what you say. I don’t need these two females shedding any more tears over you.”
A muscle worked in the cowboy’s jaw. A hint of the devil surfaced in the depths of his gaze that remained on Macy. “Shoot. Macy’s only shedding a tear because that bronc didn’t do a better job of knocking some sense into me and I’m still here.”
His unfeeling words were the last straw for her in a very long, emotional night. Anger replaced the knot in her throat. She took determined steps toward the bed, only marginally aware of Annie and Travis moving aside. In fact, they moved all the way around her and out the door, leaving their brother on his own to face what she was about to deliver.
“You know something? You’re right. I’m sorry that horse didn’t knock some sense into you because it would be the only sense you’ve ever had in that pea-sized brain of yours … ever. You scared your sister and your brother and everyone else in this town who cares about you to death tonight, but that doesn’t even register in that oversized ego of yours, does it? All you’ve ever cared about is what you want and when you want it and no one else ever mattered. Well, here’s your stupid hat”—she launched the hat at his head, uncaring that he was a patient in a hospital bed—“and you won’t see me wasting any more tears over your sorry carcass, ever again.”
The people outside the room had only enough time to take hurried steps back as the flaming-mad woman sailed through the swinging doors and down the hallway.
Late July was hotter than blazes. The last seven days of triple-digit heat had broken every record. Macy had pushed her chores to very early, jump-starting the day by rising at four in the morning. She tried to get all the chores and ranch work done before the midafternoon heat could suck the life out of the day. She picked back up early each evening, working with the horses when slightly cooler breezes returned.
Except for today. Today she was helping Annie unpack boxes in her new home. Annie’s worldly possessions had arrived in the back of a moving van. The furniture had been placed and everything else unloaded into the Victorian house on Skylark Lane, but that left a myriad of boxes to empty. Both girls were dressed in cutoff denim shorts, Annie in a sleeveless cotton blouse and Macy in a yellow tank top. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail that kept it out of her face and allowed some breeze to cool her neck.
“It would have been nice if you could have moved in November or January,” Macy teased, ripping open another box and lifting out the wadded newspapers padding the contents. Annie was working on her own box across the hall in the dining room. They called back and forth to each other, their words echoing in the high-ceilinged rooms. Annie had hooked her phone to a small, rechargeable speaker in the kitchen, and soft country music filtered through the slight breeze coming in at the tall, open windows.
“It would have been nice if the electric company hadn’t gotten the dates wrong and scheduled the electric to be turned on tomorrow instead of yesterday. Then we could have the AC cranked up while we did this.”
“True, that would be helpful, too. Hey, where do you want all your medical books to go? Do they stay here in the den, or are you taking them over to the office?” Macy called back.
Annie left her box and padded on bare feet across the hallway to where Macy was digging inside a big box. “Let me see.” She looked at the contents. “These need to go to the office. Close the box back up, and I’ll have Travis stop by and take it for me in a day or so.”
“That’s one more down. Only a few dozen more to go. How did you accumulate so much stuff? Where did you have all of these things in that apartment?”
Annie shook her head, looking at the stack of boxes still untouched. “It was a townhouse with three spare bedrooms, but I still have no idea. Of course, some of these things are Christmas decorations and the like. They’ll go to the attic. It would be nice if we had more help, but with Travis busy with the ranch and Trace still being on doctor’s orders to take things slow …” Annie’s voice trailed off. She had broached the forbidden subject, mentioned the name to never be uttered again. She darted a quick and apologetic look at her friend.
Macy shook her head. Enough was enough. She stopped and put her hands on her hips, using one shoulder to catch a little rivulet of sweat as it coursed down the side of her jaw. “Look, stop with the eggshell routine. It’s been almost three weeks since I had my meltdown in front of half the town. Trace is your brother, and it isn’t like his name won’t come up in our conversations now and then. So stop acting like a scared jackrabbit or something if you happen to mention him. I’ve
gotten past it all, and everyone else needs to move on too.”
“That’s a relief,” Annie replied, a smile lighting her face. “And it wasn’t half the town, only a small portion of it. And those people all understand and aren’t out there gossiping about it. Besides, it was exactly what Trace deserved. I told him so myself, and so did Travis. He’s kept a low profile since then and makes certain he thinks before he speaks. That is, when he does speak. He’s a grumpy bear, what with the house and all.”
Macy looked at Annie. “House? What’s wrong with the house?” She shouldn’t care, and she shouldn’t have asked.
Annie apparently didn’t notice anything wrong in the question as she responded easily. “It’s hard for him to get around right now, and when he tries to do too much, he finds out the hard way that his doctor was right. He needs to stay in low gear with those injured ribs and ease back into normal. Of course, normal for Trace is faster than most people. He tried to drive himself out to the house site and check on the workers a couple of days ago. He managed to do it. Then the pain kicked in, and we had to pry him out of his truck when he got back to the ranch. It also didn’t help that Travis read him the riot act when he got done.”
“I imagine it’s hard for him. He was never one to let things get ahead of him. He needs to learn to sit a spell and watch the grass grow.”
“Actually, he has slowed quite a bit, and he does seem to be thinking about things a lot more than he normally does. I know something’s been on his mind lately besides the house. And he did ask me about you a few days back.”
Macy threw her friend a glance and saw the hint of shrewd calculation. “You might want to tread lightly right about now.”
“Sorry,” Annie replied, although it lacked sincerity. “It was really nothing, I suppose. He wanted to know if you’d set the wedding date. You know—yours and Mike’s. Seems he was still under the assumption that you were engaged. Guess so much happened right after he was hurt that no one got around to telling him you didn’t accept that ring.”
Macy kept control of her thoughts. She had worked hard to be able to do that each day that had passed since her explosion at the hospital. “I see.” She turned back to the box on the table.
“I might as well confess that I told him you didn’t say yes. He wanted to know why not. I didn’t know what to say, so I told him that was your business and not his. I wasn’t his favorite person the rest of the day for that one. It didn’t hurt my feelings any.”
Annie took a step closer as she set the smaller box in her hands on the table. “You know, being your best friend and all, I should be hurt that you didn’t confide in me that you were considering getting engaged. I was as shocked as anyone else when I saw you and Mike in the middle of that proposal. I mean, I’d heard rumors, but you never said anything.”
There was no censure in her voice, and Macy felt grateful. She turned a contrite expression on Annie. “I’m sorry for all that. It was difficult … you being Trace’s sister and my best friend, too. I wanted to call you at least a dozen times and talk to you about it. I was so confused.”
Annie gave her a reassuring smile. “What happened? Why did you refuse Mike’s proposal?”
Macy looked down at the books in front of her, gathering her thoughts. “Actually, I was going to accept him. I had fooled myself into believing that being ‘in like’ with a good man is as good a beginning as being in love with the wrong one. Only I realized that it wasn’t fair to him, and I couldn’t go through with it. It was the best for both of us. That’s really all there was to that.” It was time for a change of subject. “How about we start on your kitchen stuff next?”
Annie knew when she had pushed far enough. “I have a better idea. How about we take a break and go down to the drugstore and get a couple of cold, frosted root beers. I haven’t had one in ages, and it would help this heat.”
“Finally, you have a brilliant idea. Last one to the car is a rotten egg.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were seated on a couple of red swivel stools in front of the long counter of the soda fountain. “How many times do you think we’ve sat here like this?” Annie asked, taking another draw on her straw.
“At least a thousand or so.” Macy grinned as she twisted on her stool.
“I’m glad some things never change.” Annie smiled. “I hope they never do away with this soda fountain. So many new pharmacies have done that. It’s part of what makes Cartwright’s Crossing a special place to live.”
“I totally agree. It’s nice to hang on to good memories and a part of the past that will never change.”
“Yeah, but change will always happen … hopefully for the good most of the time.”
“This sounds like a deep discussion. Thought you were busy unpacking?”
Macy choked on the root beer she had just taken from her frosted mug. Trace was behind her. So much for avoiding him. Trace had to have seen them sitting at the counter and decided to speak to them, even though he could have avoided them altogether. So why didn’t he? She felt Annie’s understanding glance before she swiveled to look at her brother.
“We’ve been very busy. But we deserved a break from the boxes and the heat. What are you doing here?”
“I came in to get my meds refilled. Travis dropped me off while he’s over at the tax office.”
Then they all looked at each other in silence. Macy’s hopes that he would take the hint and leave were dashed soon enough. The stool next to her squeaked as it swiveled, and a familiar scent of cologne drifted her way. She looked away as he slid into the spot next to her. Why hadn’t he taken the open stool on the other side of his sister? She was going to have to speak to him now—no more avoiding the inevitable. She took another sip of her drink.
The waitress came over for his order. “I’ll have what these two ladies are having.”
Annie looked at her brother oddly. “You don’t like root beer.”
“I’m game to give it another try,” he returned, ignoring her attempts to warn him off. “You could help your brother out if you wanted to be a good doctor and all.”
“How would I do that?”
“If you could take the scrip back to the pharmacy window, that would be a big help to me. I’m a bit worn out having made it this far from the office across the street.”
Annie hesitated, sending a brief look at Macy. Macy gave a slight nod at her friend. “Okay. Behave while I’m gone.” Annie took the piece of paper he handed her and walked away.
The waitress set a frosted mug in front of him and left. Since they were the only two at the counter, the silence was a bit awkward. Macy waited while he took a sip of the drink.
“That’s not bad,” he pronounced, then took another sip. “Not bad at all for a hot day.”
Since Macy had pretty well exhausted everything she had to say to him when they were last together at the hospital, she left it to him to direct any words at that point.
“I didn’t get a chance to say thanks at the hospital … for keeping my hat safe for me. I appreciate it. It’s my lucky hat.”
Macy kept her eyes on her glass. “Evidently not lucky enough that night. And you’re welcome,” she added.
“It was my own stupidity that put me in the dirt. The hat couldn’t have helped that. My mind wasn’t on the back of the horse.”
Here comes the blame. She mustered enough confidence to bring her eyes to meet those waiting patiently on her. He looks so tired. That sudden realization almost made her pause and she had to jerk her mind back to the subject at hand. How he did or did not look would be kept out of the conversation. “If you didn’t have your mind on the ride that night, then you shouldn’t have gotten on the back of the bronc to begin with. That was your fault and not mine or anyone else’s.”
His eyes narrowed on her words. “Why would it have been your fault?”
The question stymied her. “Because … well, if you were upset or thinking about something you shouldn’t have been thinking about ri
ght before … then you shouldn’t have ridden.” This was ridiculous. Just say what you mean. “You saw something that was none of your business, and if it bothered you in any way, then that’s what I meant. Mike and I were having a private conversation that was no one’s business but ours.” There. She had said her piece. She turned back to her drink.
“I see. I am sorry I interrupted your tender moment. Although I guess it wasn’t too tender since you turned the poor guy down.”
She rounded on him, the sudden swell of anger almost choking her last swallow. “How dare you make light of something like that? Mike Ross is a good, kind, decent man—someone a woman could certainly count on to show up, to keep the trust … and not run away.” She’d had enough. Sliding off the stool, she didn’t wait to hear anything else the man had to say. Annie could catch up with her later. Macy didn’t look back. She was done doing that.
“That dappled gray is one fine-looking animal. He’s got all the right moves and a heck of a lot of speed,” Jeb observed, leaning both arms on top of the fence, watching as Macy cantered the animal once more around the enclosure, then drew him up, and dismounted a few feet away.
She ran a gloved hand along the animal’s neck. “Yes, he has the makings of a fine barrel horse. He’ll work well for the Bartlett girl. Together they can make an unbeatable pair.”
“You have a gift for picking the right horse for the right person.”
“Thanks. How’s Clairee? Does she know you’re out here angling for your old job back?”
“Now where did you get an idea like that?” Jeb had the decency to at least look like he took exception to such a silly notion. They both knew it was a waste of energy and his dubious acting skills. “The doc released me to continue with regular things. Clairee knew I was headed out this way. Besides, I already have a part-time job to keep me busy.”
