Finally she dropped the microphone beside her legs, turning to Dave for a quick moment, then back to then audience.
'Two more and we'll call it quits.'
Groans and protests arose from the townsfolk. She raised a hand.
'One of them is the most recent one I wrote here.'
She licked her lips nervously, again looked at Dave, grinning at her.
'Remember,' she said for him alone, 'when this one is done, go right into Sing the Mountain Down. Don't pause at all.'
'They'll love it,' he encouraged.
She took a breath, waiting for the music's cue.
Her strong, clear alto rose over the crowd, filling every corner of the field with the sweet harmony, the words sung simply, clearly and from her heart.
'She didn't need the mike,' one listener said afterward.
'Beautiful, strong voice, lovely song,' said another.
'Did you see his face?' asked a third. 'I watched him, you know, I saw it.'
Amanda's voice carried conviction as her voice swelled for the chorus, her eyes only for Mac now,
'... I love a rancher ... I love a rancher ...'
Mac stared back at her, too far away for Amanda to see him clearly, to see how he was taking her song. She noticed John-Michael looked at his dad, with a grin as big as his face, but Mac steadfastly stared at Amanda.
.. And glory be, glory be, ... the rancher loves me...'
People turned to look at Mac, neighbor nudging neighbor as the word spread. Grins appeared on faces, attention split between the singer and Mac Mackenzie.
'Look at his eyes.' A neighbor nudged a friend.
'The song is about Mac Mackenzie.'
'The song's right, too, he looks as if he adores her,' the friend replied.
Again and again the chorus rang out, filling the fairground of Timber, California, filling the people's minds and hearts with delight.
'... I love a rancher ... and glory be, the rancher loves me ...'
The audience went wild. Stood as they clapped and whistled and cheered. On and on the thunderous ovation continued. Amanda blinked her eyes, trying to clear them of the tears that blurred her vision, smiling tremulously at the people. She turned to Dave, with a questioning look; why no lead into the next song? He just smiled and shrugged. No point, who would hear with the noise the audience was making?
Amanda turned back to the crowd. She could no longer see Mac, nor others she knew, just a sea of happy, applauding fans. She bowed again and again, happy they liked her song. How had Mac liked it? That was the real question.
As soon as the tumult died a little, Dave started up the music. Sing the Mountain Down had hit the top of the charts, was still very popular and soon she was well into it. Into it and finished. At last, the show was over.
Again and again she bowed her thanks for their applause, motioning to the band, to Dave. Smiling, waving. Finally, for the last time. Then she turned and walked quickly back to the rear of the stage, stumbled down the steps, right into Mac's arms.
'I said I was a fool,' he murmured, gathering her in and lowering his head.
The touch of his mouth drove all conscious thought from Amanda's head. She clasped him tightly and returned his kisses, hungry for them. Longing and desire rising. Wishing the moment could go on and on, only the two of them, together again at last. His mouth warm and exciting, his hands molding her against him.
'Was that a proposal up there?' he asked, when he at last raised his head.
'Please, I'm an engaged lady, I don't make proposals.' She smiled up at him, love shining from her eyes, oblivious to all going on around them.
'It was quite a song. You have a beautiful way with words, sweetheart.'
'Like, I love you?'
Um, just like that.' He lowered his head again to her waiting lips.
'Excuse us, but you're blocking the way.' Dave stood on the bottom step, Sam and Joe close behind.
'Oh, sorry. Dave, Sam, Joe, this is Mac!' Amanda turned around, smiling in her happiness, linking her arm in his and introducing him.
'We've sort of met,' Dave said, hesitantly offering a hand.
‘Yes.' Mac took it. 'But with a misconception; I thought you were her biker lover.'
Amanda giggled. That was something else to be cleared up. She had forgotten Mac was still in the dark about a lot of things.
'Biker!' Dave sputtered, outrage evident in his face. Sam kindly bumped him along before he could explode.
'Glad to meet the rancher. How did you like her song?'
Joe also shook his hand, as did Phil and Marc, now joining them.
'I liked the song. I expect most of the town liked it.' he said drily. 'I wasn't expecting anything like it. I've never had a song written to me before.' He turned and glanced warmly at Amanda's upturned face. 'I liked it very much,' he repeated.
'We thought it was good, too.'
Mac turned back to the band. 'I reckon I'll be seeing a lot of you all, if I throw my lot in with this baggage,' Mac said, drawing her close to him.
'Right on,' Dave said, still annoyed at being thought a biker. 'But from what Mandy has lined up, not until Thanksgiving.'
One or two other people were coming around the stage, more behind them.
'I'll look forward to it,' Mac said hastily, his eye on the group approaching. To Amanda he spoke, turning her towards the truck. 'I have a few things I want cleared up, are you finished? Can we leave?'
'Yes, let's go. See you later,' she called over her shoulder. 'Enjoy the picnic.'
In only moments, they were pulling out of the parking lot, leaving the crowds behind, just the two of them heading for the ranch.
'I'm sorry you found out the way you did,' Amanda began diffidently. 'I don't blame you a bit for being so angry. I wanted to tell you earlier in the summer, but never found the right time. Then the rest happened so fast, your proposal, John-Michael's interruption, then the news about Evie.'
'How is she, by the way,' Mac interrupted.
'Oh, she’s coming along fine. Complete recovery expected. She's Dave's wife, you know. I'm very fond of her.'
'No, I didn't know Dave was married. In fact, I know very little about you other than you are headstrong and stubborn and fill my days with joy,' Mac replied.
A lump caught in her throat at the unexpected compliment.
'Oh, Mac, I've missed you so much.'
'I've missed you, too. God, I thought the time would never pass. Each night seemed five years long. Then to drive in this morning and see that bus.' He drew in a ragged breath. 'John-Michael told me who you really were. He knew, but hadn't said anything.'
'I should have told you before, but with one thing and another, I just didn't. I'm sorry you found out that way this morning.'
'We didn't communicate well when you were gone. I thought you didn't come back because you didn't want to.'
'I had to help with Evie. I wanted to write, then thought I should tell you personally about things ... I missed you so much,' she said, placing a consoling hand on his hard thigh.
'Tell me about you,' he said, reaching out to squeeze her hand lying on his leg.
So Amanda did, all about the incognito summer, about Dave and Evie and baby Annie.
'And so I wrote the song. I could never seem to just come out and tell you,' she finished.
He pulled into the driveway and stopped, turning to her.
'But, Mandy love, I especially want you to say whatever you like to me. For you to feel safe and secure in our life together, to be at ease always with me. I made mistakes in my first marriage. I don't plan to repeat them this go round. If I live to be a hundred-and-three, I want you there with me, singing your songs, panning for gold, whatever it is you want.'
'I want to be with you,' she said softy. 'I love you, Mac.'
'I love you, sweetheart.' He took her in his arms, kissing her deeply as a man long deprived, his mouth warm and exciting, evoking the responses Amanda remembered all so well. Eagerly she
returned his kiss, her mouth a soft inviting sweetness to him, her hands relearning him. Slowly she trailed fingers down the strong column of his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. His skin was warm and taut.
He left her mouth to trail kisses along her neck, to her cheeks.
'What about Sally Sutherland?' she asked abruptly.
Mac drew back just a little. 'Sally? What about Sally?'
He was totally at a loss.
'Well, she was very possessive at your aunt's dinner party, and then sat near you today and all...' Amanda vaguely trailed off. 'I thought perhaps you had something...'
'I fell in love with a hot-tempered brat the day I kissed her and she doused me with icy water. I have never loved Sally, nor given her two thoughts since falling in love with you.'
'That's when?' She laughed. 'But I had no idea!'
'Well, no,' he replied rather sheepishly. 'I, er, had to break down my own reservations first. But that's why I arranged for the option. I thought I could tie up the land for the future and be able to stop trying to get you to leave. That was the last thing I wanted by that time.'
'Oh, darling, and I never knew. I thought to give you the land for a wedding present.'
'You did? Thanks, but I don't seem to have the same urgency for it now. I'd rather have you.'
'Oh, well, it will just be in the family. You were a long time in overcoming your own reservations.'
He pulled her against him again. 'Yes, but once gone, there was only you. Here I thought I was going to have to reform a hippie wife and find instead a leading star in my life.'
'You don't mind too much, do you? she asked anxiously. 'I am planning to settle down. My engagements won't be too extensive.'
'As long as you always come back to me, I can spare you to the rest of the world a few times a year, I guess.'
'I love you John Mackenzie.'
'And I love you, Mandy Smith.'
His mouth was warm and exciting and she arched against him, wondering if they'd ever be close enough to satisfy her, to feel the hard length of him against her again, to find fulfillment of the promise of his touch.
Releasing her at long last, he sat back, started the truck, reversing out to the highway.
'Are we going back to the picnic?' Amanda asked in surprise.
"No, Nevada. We can get there in only a couple of hours.'
‘Nevada, whatever for?' She had thought they would go to her cabin or his home. Be alone for a while, catch up on things.
'Two reasons, one, they have twenty-four-hour marriage chapels with no waiting, and two, a motel where the phone won't ring, nor kids interrupt, nor aunts drop by. Dave said you're committed until Thanksgiving. Doesn't give us much time to get started on a honeymoon.'
Amanda gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Oh, Mac, I’d love to. But what about the band? Your aunt? John-Michael?’
‘We’ll tell them when we get back,’ he said.
She smiled and reached out to touch him. ‘I’ll always remember this. And don’t get me wrong, I want to marry you as fast as we can. But my mama would skin me alive if she wasn’t at my wedding. My cousins would never get over it. And you need your son there. Really.’
The truck slowed, and he eased to the side of the road. Traffic was non-existent. He looked at her. ‘I want you so much.’
She undid her seat belt and moved across the seat to be as close to him as she could get. ‘I want you, too. Today, tomorrow, forever. We have family who will rejoice in our happiness. We can’t deprive them of sharing in our joy.’
He kissed her and then brushed his fingers against her cheek. ‘When you’re right, you’re right. So how soon can we get everyone together?’
Amanda laughed. ‘Just as soon as we can. Let’s go tell them all.’
Mac turned the truck around.
She sat back to enjoy the ride, to enjoy whatever life brought from this day forward.
‘... Glory be, glory be, the rancher loves me.'
About the Author
Barbara McMahon is an award-winning, best selling author of more than eighty novels. Known for warm family type stories, she enjoys capturing the first stage of a relationship and showing how despite obstacles thrown in their way, a man and a woman can find true love and lasting happiness.
Her books have been translated into 23 different languages and sold in more than 50 foreign countries.
For more than twenty-five years she's made her home in Northern California, the last seventeen in the rural county of Amador—in the heart of the Mother Lode, California's gold rush country.
Watch for Crazy About You, coming in September, 2011.
Visit Barbara at : www.barbaramcmahon.com
or on Facebook at AuthorBarbaraMcMahon
Bluebells on the Hill Page 17
