“Move,” Chet said, and while his tone was gruff, his eyes were gentle.
“Excuse me?” she shot back.
“Move,” he repeated, then cracked a smile. “Don’t give yourself a hernia because I’m an ass.”
He had a good point there, and she stepped aside, allowing him to lift out the first bale. He carried it to the gate, and she opened the latch and let him through to the feeder. She followed. It didn’t take long for him to fill the feeder with the two bales, and when he was done, they arranged the hay so that the cows could reach it more easily. After they finished, he studied her, uncertainty swimming in those gray eyes.
“Look,” he said quietly.
“Never mind,” she said with a brisk shake of her head. She didn’t need any more reassurances—they weren’t working, anyway.
“Hey.” His tone grew firmer. “Mack, I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I’m sorry. My feelings aren’t your problem, and I should have reined all that in last night.”
When she looked up at him, she found his gaze still fixed intently on her. He was truly sorry—she could see that much. But he was taking a lot for granted about that kiss—namely that she’d never experienced another one like it. Of course, she hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point here.
“It’s okay, Chet,” she said with a small smile. “I’m a grown woman. It isn’t like I’ve never been kissed before.”
Chet’s face broke into a grin and he shook his head. “Touché.”
They walked together back to the gate as the cows came closer to check out their new source of food. Chet pulled the gate open and motioned Mackenzie through first.
“So we’re friends still?” he asked, closing it behind him and securing the clasp.
“Of course.” She swept a hand through her hair, dragging it back over her shoulders.
He paused for a moment, then squinted as if trying to decide something.
“Then what would you think of getting out tonight?” he asked. “As friends, of course. The fair is in town, and it might be nice to let loose for a few hours. Andy’s coming, too, just in case you don’t want to hang out with me alone all evening.”
Mackenzie raised her eyebrows and considered. It would be nice to get away from it all for a few hours. As much as she was enjoying working Granny’s land, she could feel the exhaustion setting in, too.
“Sure,” she agreed. “That would be nice.”
The three of them hanging out again—it was almost a relief after that kiss. She wasn’t sure that she’d trust herself wandering through fairgrounds with Chet in the dusk, but adding Andy into the mix brought it all back into innocent fun.
“Great.” Chet smiled ruefully and headed for the truck. “Because there’s been a wildfire of gossip about us, and we should probably clear some of that up.”
“By being seen out together at the fair?” she asked, baffled.
“You bet.” He hauled open the truck door. “What better way to prove that there’s nothing to talk about?”
Chapter Nine
That evening, Chet and Andy pulled up in front of Mackenzie’s house in Chet’s slightly beat-up old Chevy. It had seen better days, but the truck was still reliable and it drove like an old friend. Chet was driving and Andy sat in the passenger seat. Andy had put more care than usual in his appearance, his shirt open at the neck and a large titanium-cased watch falling outside his sleeve. He’d made good money in Billings, and it showed in his dress. Chet, on the other hand, wore his good jeans—the ones he wore to church—and a clean blue button-up shirt and his good cowboy hat. He was clean, shaven and smelling appropriate. The rest of his good looks, he was born with.
Mack waved from the front window and a minute later came out the door. He tried not to look too closely at her formfitting jeans as she turned to lock the door, and when she turned back toward them, a pink embroidered blouse draped down just far enough to expose the curve of her collarbone. That long hair hung loose and free down her shoulders, the wind ruffling it, and she had to pull it away from her face as she approached the truck. It had been a long time since he’d stared at Mackenzie like that. She was still stunning, and he was still feeling more than he should be.
“Get in the back, Andy.”
Andy narrowed his eyes at his brother, but he got out and held the door for Mackenzie as she climbed up into the truck, and Chet didn’t miss the direction of his brother’s appreciative gaze as she did so. When she reached for the door to close it, he opened the back door and hopped up.
“Hi, guys,” Mack said as she tugged at her seat belt. “Sorry to dethrone you, Andy.”
“Hey, anything for a lady,” Andy said with a laugh that irritated Chet just a little.
They weren’t supposed to be competing for her, but Chet couldn’t help that twinge of competition inside him. Mackenzie smelled good—that mixture of shampoo and something floral that Chet had always associated with her. She brushed some dried dirt off the side of her jeans.
“I gave Chocolate Truffle one last bottle before I left,” she said with a small shrug.
He couldn’t quite explain how his heart did an extra thump at that. Mack had never been very country, but she seemed to have figured out the priorities, at least. Animals first. Clean jeans second. Chet put the truck into gear and pulled away from the house, tires crunching against gravel as he headed up the drive toward the dirt road.
“I think I took you to this fair on our first date, didn’t I?” Andy said from the backseat as Chet eased onto the dirt road.
Chet was tempted to say something smart-alecky, but he kept it to himself. The fair used to be a favorite spot for his brother to take girls he dated. Mackenzie turned, her golden hair shining in the evening sunlight that spilled through the windshield, and looked at Andy quizzically.
“No, you took me there just before we broke up. What happened that night, anyway?”
Chet glanced in the rearview mirror and caught Andy’s frozen smile. Mackenzie shifted her attention to Chet next, and he winced. Andy was embarrassed about his teenage shenanigans. Maturity had changed him, and as far as Chet knew, Andy had been faithful to the women in his life ever since. But Mack was staring at Chet now.
“Ask Andy,” he said. It wasn’t his sin to reveal.
“I’m serious, Andy,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “What happened? Everything was perfect, and then you just disappeared on me. Thank God Chet found me and brought me home, but it always bothered me.”
“I—uh—” Andy laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t even remember.”
Chet remembered the episode clearly, even if his brother was having some selective amnesia. Andy had met up with the girl who would be his next girlfriend, and she’d asked him to go do something with her. That was when Chet had gotten that slightly tense phone call from his brother asking him to do him just one favor... Andy had been starting with someone new, with a little overlap.
“The thing is,” Chet said, his words measured and low, “if a guy really cares, he’s there. No way around it.”
Andy’s face hardened into a look of anger in the rearview, and Chet ignored it. It was the truth. Andy might have recognized what a great catch Mack was, but he hadn’t loved her—not the way he should have. When a guy fell for a girl, he didn’t get sidetracked with someone else, and he didn’t pawn her off on his brother.
Andy had asked Chet to pick up Mack from the fair and to cover for him. Chet had done that. In fact, he’d been eager to go and get her, but he’d been reluctant about the covering part. He could still remember the confused look on her face when he found her by the Ferris wheel. Mackenzie had been tearstained and upset, and he could tell she sensed something was wrong. She cared more for Andy than he did for her—it had to hurt. Appreciating a woman’s worth and falling in love with her could come at the same time, but they didn’t always. It was possible for a man to see exactly how wonderful a woman was and still not be in love. And Andy hadn’t been.
“Y
ou saying I didn’t care?” Andy snapped.
“It was almost a decade ago,” Chet replied, eyeing his brother with a direct glance in the mirror. “Let it go.”
The truth was, ten years ago, they had been kids still. They’d been playing with emotions that were new to all of them, but time had changed them all. Ten years ago, they were all full of potential and their whole lives were ahead of them, and now they were solidly set on their life paths. A crush on a seventeen-year-old girl wasn’t the same thing as realizing that you were falling hard for a grown woman. This wasn’t about fantasy or potential; it was about reality and choices. Mack might have been exciting back then, but right now she occupied a deeper place in his heart. He truly liked the woman she’d grown into. He liked how hard she worked, her determination to run a ranch she knew little about. And she was eerily wise, able to see beyond his words to his emotions boiling beneath. That was something he knew better than to take for granted. Most women complained about his reluctance to open up, but Mack seemed to get beyond that without much effort on her part. She knew her mind, and she didn’t get derailed by anyone else’s opinions, either. Mackenzie Vaughn had matured into an amazing woman. The man who won her heart would be lucky for a lifetime, but her heart was carefully protected.
“Well, you were a sweetheart to drive out and pick me up,” Mack said, smiling in Chet’s direction. “It was late, and I was a teary mess. I’m sure that was the last place you wanted to be.”
She was dead wrong there. He’d been the tiniest bit glad to see his brother’s interest in Mackenzie waning, and when he’d driven out there to pick her up, he’d been both irritated at his brother for being a moron and a little excited at the chance of being alone with her. The whole ride back she’d tried to hold back her tears, and he hadn’t blamed her. When they finally got back and he’d dropped her off in front of her grandmother’s house, she’d told him she wasn’t ready to be alone yet and asked if he wanted to talk. That night, he had wrapped his arms around her for the first time and held her close while she sniffled into his shirt. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged him away.
“Nah,” he said with a shrug. “It was fine.”
“Do you remember how we sat outside Granny’s barn that night and talked and talked? I was so mad at Andy, and you weren’t ready to go home...” Mack paused. “I think you told me about treating foot-and-mouth disease or something.”
Chet laughed out loud. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
He hadn’t been exactly smooth at the ripe old age of nineteen, and he’d been desperate to keep her there with him. He’d had to say something, and he couldn’t say what had been uppermost in his mind—that he was a better choice than his brother, that he’d never leave her out there standing by herself next to a Ferris wheel, and that if he had the chance that night, he wanted to kiss her. The chance hadn’t come—or maybe he hadn’t had the deftness to make it happen. Regardless, he’d eventually walked her back to her grandmother’s house and she’d disappeared inside, and Chet had lain awake that night, remembering how she’d felt when she’d cried in his arms.
“Always the gentleman,” Mack said with a smile, and Chet wasn’t sure he liked that easy sound to her voice when she said those words. He might have been a gentleman—he might still be a gentleman—but that didn’t cancel out the fact that he was also a man. Just because he knew how to treat a woman right didn’t mean he was castrated—he’d made that clear enough in the barn the other night.
They were approaching the town of Hope now, and he slowed to the speed limit as they cut through. The fairgrounds were just on the other side of town, and in the distance he could see the very tips of some of the rides.
Being with Mack at the fair would have been perfect if it weren’t for his brother along for the ride, but then, it was probably better to have Andy around. Andy lent a bit of reality to the situation, a living and breathing reminder of why Chet had to step carefully.
The parking lot for the fairgrounds wasn’t big enough, so the extra vehicles flowed over into an empty field beside it, a stretch of pickup trucks, SUVs and cars from town. A few RVs were parked at the far end of the lot—possibly for the carnies working the fair. Chet pulled into a grassy space and turned off the engine. He came around the side of the vehicle next to Mackenzie, drinking in that distant popcorn scent of the fair.
“You bought me deep-fried pickles.”
Mack’s voice was close and low, and he looked over at her in surprise. “Pardon?”
“Back then,” she said. “You bought me those battered deep-fried pickle slices, remember? And we ate them together on the drive back.”
That was right. Every time it looked as though she’d give in to those tears, he’d nudged the box closer to her and said, These are better than Andy. She’d smiled at his little joke, and he’d felt like a hero.
“Yeah, I’d forgotten about that,” he said. “I’ll get you more tonight,” he said with a grin. “And whatever other junk food you’ll eat. Tonight is on me.”
* * *
THE FAIR HADN’T changed much in the past ten years. The lowering sun was close to setting, sending rays out from behind the rides and tents. The sounds of games and attention grabbers jangled discordantly, and through it all the scent of popcorn and deep-fried everything permeated the air. The ground was dusty and dry, and as the three of them stepped onto the fairgrounds, Mackenzie put her hands into her pockets.
“It’s the same,” she said.
“It’s only been ten years,” Chet replied with a quick laugh. “Takes longer than that to change anything around here.”
Mackenzie had to admit to the wisdom in his words, but it applied to more than traveling carnivals and local businesses. Too much had stayed the same around here, so much so that standing at the fair with the Granger brothers was so familiar that it hurt.
“Hey, Andy!” a man called out. He wore a cowboy hat and had a thumb hooked in a belt loop.
“Dwight!” Andy grinned in the other man’s direction and sauntered over, leaving Mackenzie and Chet to themselves. Obviously, the two men knew each other well, because there was a lot of laughing and backslapping.
“Who’s that?” Mackenzie asked.
“Friend from high school.” Chet glanced at his brother again. “We might as well go take a look around. Andy will be a bit.”
Mack nodded, and they moved off toward the blinking lights of the games and attractions, Chet feeling solid and comforting next to her. It was tempting to slip her hand into his, but she knew better. It hadn’t been like this the last time she’d seen Chet at the fair. That had been a dismal night and he’d been protective and sweet. As she walked next to Chet now, the atmosphere was charged with something deeper, something she wished she could explore a little bit, but that didn’t mean that it would last. This was the kind of evening to enjoy, tuck away into her memory and appreciate it for what it was: a nice night with a good man.
“Do you want a deep-fried pickle?” Chet asked.
The smell of oil and batter floated to them over a warm breeze, and while the sky was growing duskier, the lights around them seemed to brighten.
“Sure.” She grinned up at him. “Are they still as good?”
Better than Andy. That was how he’d described them, hadn’t he? It still amused her.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
The little hut didn’t have a lineup, and Chet stepped up to order, peeling a couple of bills off a roll from his pocket. He was strong, confident. Would things have turned out differently if she’d dated Chet instead of Andy back then? It was hard to tell. Ten years had changed her as well as Chet, and she wouldn’t trade in her college degree or life experience, either. It was bittersweet, because standing here in the fragrant air of the county fair, she knew what she had to do. She just didn’t want to do it. Hope had moved on without her, no matter how much Chet protested to the contrary, and she had moved on, too.
When the food was ready, Chet passed
her a cardboard container and a handful of tartar-sauce packets. It smelled amazing and burned her hand a little through the bottom of the box. When he’d gotten his food, too, they made their way to some picnic tables. Chet stayed close, his well-muscled arm brushing hers as they took their seats.
“Here’s to old times,” she said, tapping her plastic fork against his in a makeshift toast.
A shadow seemed to pass over his gaze and he shrugged. “Sure.”
Maybe those summer months weren’t as pleasant a memory for him, if he’d spent them hiding his feelings for her. If she had to face it, they weren’t high times for her, either. Her father had left the family, and she’d had her heart broken by her first love. She’d wasted a lot of tears on Andy, and she’d wasted a lot of time trying to piece together and make sense of that failed romance, too. So maybe “back in the day” wasn’t all rose tinted after all, but there was something about the most painful times that made the sweet moments within them all the sweeter.
Hope wasn’t going to be her home, after all. She could feel it. She wasn’t sure how she’d sort out the details, but there was no way she could run this ranch. She’d also never really fit into the town, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to put the next ten years of her life into trying to make herself fit. A home was supposed to be a safe place to fall, not a town where she’d always be the outsider, especially when she had a city that she knew like the back of her hand, a place where she could melt into the crowd with relative ease. A woman shouldn’t have to fight to fit in. But there was one thing she needed to clear up before she left, one last loose end she wanted to tie up. She needed to clarify what had actually happened when she and Andy broke up. It might not matter in the grander scheme of things, but it mattered to her. Her father broke her trust at an impressionable age, and the feeling in her gut then was too similar to the one she felt when she thought about the whole Andy situation. She deserved a few straight answers.
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