by Ami Weaver
She wouldn’t be wrong, exactly.
It had been a small kiss. A peck, really. But, oh, it—and the look in his eyes—had shot straight to her heart.
She managed a smile for her aunt’s sake. “Just tired.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Marla folded the towel precisely and put it on the counter. “Darcy. What happened today?”
Darcy shut her eyes. She didn’t want to relive it. If she’d been able to control the reaction, as she had the few times she was hit with it before, none of this would have happened. Of course, Mack hadn’t been within touching distance. “I had a weak moment.”
Marla sat down at the table, and the squeak of a second chair being nudged out was a clear hint that she wanted Darcy to have a seat, too. So she did, reluctantly. “Honey, this has been a shock for you. I’m not sure how much you’ve dealt with since you’ve been gone.” She held up a hand as Darcy opened her mouth to deny it. “Please. Listen. Okay?” Darcy clamped her mouth shut and nodded. “Okay. You left but you never dealt with the pain. You suffered two incredibly hard losses in a short time. You wouldn’t talk about it when we asked you. You kept insisting you were fine. And you were so very young to boot. You’ve thrown yourself into your new life, but reinventing yourself isn’t any good if the foundation you’ve based it on isn’t strong.”
Tears pricked Darcy’s eyes, but she folded her hands tightly in front of her on the table, not wanting to give in to the weakness. Again. Marla’s gnarled hand found hers, closing tight over her own. Darcy focused on her aunt’s neatly trimmed nails to try to keep the tears at bay.
“Honey. You are strong. You are one of the strongest people I know, and as stubborn as your uncle. You went through hell and back and it’s okay to grieve. It’s not weak. It’s necessary.”
Darcy shut her eyes. She appreciated this, she did, but Marla didn’t know the whole story. No one did.
“Talk to Mack,” Marla said gently. “You don’t have to reconcile, but you do have some stuff to put behind you.”
Darcy managed a smile. “I appreciate your concern. It has been a shock.” That was the absolute truth. Seeing Mack had sent her off-kilter in so many ways. Knowing he was buying the farm had been the least of it. “But there’s not much to say, Aunt Marla. It was a long time ago. I don’t see what it would change.”
Marla sat back and Darcy caught the look of disappointment that passed over her face. She swallowed hard. It was so important that she keep all this locked down. She’d worked so hard to get it to that point. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she let it all out now.
* * *
The next night, she went upstairs to her room, but she wasn’t sleepy, despite her restless nights and busy days. She looked out the window to see the snow had stopped. The moon was shining on the snow, gilding the trees with silver. It was still fairly early, only eight thirty.
She went back downstairs and outside. She needed more shampoo, so she’d run to Jim’s to grab some. It’d get her out of her head and off the farm for a little bit.
Win-win.
She drove into town and parked in the half-empty parking lot of the grocery store. Inside, she got her shampoo but stopped dead when she saw who was in line in front of her.
Mack.
Knowing she couldn’t turn and slip away once he spotted her, she lifted her chin and got in line.
“Evening,” he said, and offered her a smile.
Her breath caught. The laugh lines that fanned out from his eyes added character and were surprisingly sexy. “Hi,” she managed to return in a normal voice. Then, because she couldn’t stand there and look at him, she dropped her attention to the items he’d put on the belt, including a garish box with a toucan on it.
“Kids’ cereal?” A giggle escaped her. “Still?”
He looked sheepish. “Hey. I like them.”
“I know.” Now her gaze caught his and the weight of a shared past blanketed them for a heartbeat. For once, it wasn’t fringed with pain. She swallowed hard.
“How are you tonight?” The cashier’s chirpy voice cut through the moment and Darcy looked away, heart pounding, as Mack turned to address the young woman.
She kept her gaze fixed on the colorful box of cereal. Because then she wasn’t looking at how those jeans hugged his perfect rear. If she didn’t look, she didn’t have to acknowledge how badly she wanted to slide her hands over it.
If she didn’t acknowledge it, she could pretend everything was normal. That somehow she wasn’t losing her tenuous grip on normal.
Oh, who was she kidding? He turned so his profile was to her and she couldn’t help looking. He had a small scar on his jaw. That was new. Her fingers itched to touch it, to feel the roughness of the slight growth on his face. He turned to look at her then, and her face turned hot.
“See you, Darcy.”
She managed a smile. “Bye.”
He walked away, pushing his cart with his couple of grocery bags, and she could still see the box of cereal. It was bittersweet to know some things never changed.
She paid for her own purchase and walked out.
“Darce.”
She jumped at his voice. “Mack. What are you doing?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He nodded to the Town Line Diner across the street. “Want to grab coffee? I’d like to make up for the other day.”
Oh, yes, more than anything. Which was why, when she opened her mouth, she fully intended to say no. “Sure.”
Blame it on the darn cereal. He looked so relieved, she couldn’t berate herself for her weakness. “Great. Let me just put these in the truck. I’ll meet you over there.”
“Okay.” Darcy walked to her car, the butterflies in her midsection going full flutter. What had she done? This wasn’t a good idea.
It was just coffee. Maybe a chance to smooth things over.
She sat in her car and waited until he got in his truck, then followed him to the diner. This was why Uncle Joe’s suggestion she buy the tree farm was ridiculous. She couldn’t imagine running into Mack all over the place. She’d never be able to breathe fully here.
Coward.
Well, yes. Yes, she was. She parked next to him, grabbed her purse and took a deep breath.
She got out of the car and walked in next to him, unable to suppress the little shiver of awareness when his arm brushed hers. Even through the thickness of their coats, she swore she could feel his heat. Neither of them spoke.
Unsettled, she followed him wordlessly to a booth in the corner. She remembered coming here as a teenager with her friends. It smelled the same, of coffee and bacon and burgers. She slipped her jacket off and tried not to look at him.
Which, as it turned out, was easier said than done.
The waitress, perky and young, came over. “Hi, Dr. Lawless. What can I get you?” Darcy swore the young woman batted her eyes at him.
“Hi, Michelle. I’ll just have coffee. Darce?” He shifted his smile from the waitress to her. She resisted the urge to bat her eyes, as well.
The waitress shifted her attention to Darcy and took her in. If she hadn’t been already on the edge, she’d have found it amusing to be viewed this way by a girl who couldn’t be more than twenty to Mack’s thirty-two. Clearly she didn’t know the story of Darcy and Mack. If she did, Darcy was willing to bet she’d find her coffee in her lap. “Same. Thanks.”
Michelle pocketed her pad and headed off, a definite swing to her hips. Darcy looked back at Mack, whose gaze was on her, not the girl, and raised an eyebrow. “Still charming the ladies?”
“All but one, it seems,” he said, and his tone was serious.
She dropped her gaze and toyed with her silverware. He didn’t waste time getting to the point. “Why do you think charming her would work?” She meant to keep her tone light
and failed.
“I don’t. But nothing else does.” The frankness of his words caught her. She sat back and regarded him with slightly narrowed eyes.
“What do you want, Mack?” It seemed best to just ask. Maybe they could just clear the air and move on.
He met her gaze as the waitress returned with the coffeepot. Darcy said nothing as she filled both cups, then reached for two creams when she left. “Nice to know some things don’t change.”
She emptied both in her cup. “Like what?”
“You’ve always taken your coffee the same way.”
The reference to the past, which lately hovered too close to the surface, brought her up short. “I’ve changed a lot, Mack.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” She sipped the hot liquid, welcomed the burn. “I’ve been gone a long time.”
“I know that, too.” Now his gaze was steady on hers. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
She shook her head. “No, not really. Nothing will change what happened and how it was handled. I will say I’m sorry.” Damn it, now there were tears burning in her eyes. “I’m so sorry for how it all went down. But it’s not all my fault.”
He leaned forward. “You left, Darce. Just left.”
“No, Mack. You let me go.”
Chapter Five
He stared at her. “It was what you wanted.”
No, it hadn’t been. What she’d wanted was for him to want her—to want their marriage—enough to fight for her. Make her stay. Want her for more than just her role as mother of their child.
He hadn’t. He’d just granted the divorce, no questions asked.
He’d never actually asked her why she’d left.
She pushed her cup aside. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”
Mack examined her, this woman who’d once been his wife. He’d so wanted to do right by her, but when it had come down to it, he’d failed her. Failed their baby. It wasn’t any less bitter a revelation now than it had been then. He thought of when she’d bolted at the sight of the happy young couple. Clearly, it all mattered to her, too, even if he couldn’t get her to admit it.
“It does matter.” When she stared at him he cleared his throat. “It matters to me.”
He saw regret and pain in her brown eyes. She dropped her gaze. “It was what I wanted.”
Even as her words pierced him, he wondered if they were true. But this wasn’t the place to push it. He reached over and took her hand, feeling its coldness in his own, but it did nothing to diminish the heat he felt when he touched her. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too.” For all of it, even the way he’d sprung his plans for the farm on her.
She looked at their linked hands, then gave a nod. “Well, then. Friends?”
He squeezed her fingers before releasing her. “Friends.” He didn’t think this was settled, not by a long shot. But he’d take these first steps for what they were—a start. At least she wasn’t running away in tears.
“So. Tell me about your practice,” she invited, and he ran with the topic change, grateful for the chance to just be with her.
Nearly an hour later, he looked at his watch. Time to go back to the clinic. “I’ve got to go,” he said, truly regretful. “I’ve got a patient to check on.”
She looked at her phone, and seemed surprised at the time. “Wow. I didn’t realize it was this late. Okay.”
They paid the bill and walked out into the cold night. A light snow had moved in and it sparkled in the parking lot lights. Not wanting the evening to end, he turned to her. “Come with me?”
She blinked up at him, snow caught on her lashes. “Excuse me?”
“Do you want to see the clinic?”
He held his breath, not wanting to admit how important this was to him, as she clearly wrestled with the question. “Okay.”
Relief flooded him, along with something else he couldn’t name. “It’s not far. Follow me.”
She got in her SUV and followed him to the clinic. He had managed to get the Christmas lights up as well as the garland, and they were lit now—on a timer to go off at eleven, along with all the other businesses along Main Street. Darcy parked across the street and stood there, looking.
He came up next to her, closer than he knew he should. “What do you see?”
She gestured at the street. “It’s so cheery. Especially in the snow. When I think of Christmas, this is the scene I picture. I’ve missed it.”
He nearly pointed out she could have come back at any time—in fact, she’d never had to leave—but he didn’t want to ruin their new truce. “It is charming.” He swept his hand out. “Shall we?”
She gave a little giggle and stepped off the curb. God, how he’d missed her laugh. There hadn’t been much laughter after they got married. Then the accident had happened only six months in.
Pushing that thought away, he unlocked the door and reset the alarm. She stepped in behind him, noting the neatness of the waiting room. A Christmas tree stood in one corner, tags hanging off it. “What’s this?”
“A wish tree. For the humane society. Things like cat litter, dog food, towels and blankets, that kind of thing. People take a tag, drop off the items and one of us runs it out there.”
Oh, yes, this was the man she’d so loved. “What a great idea.” When he went in front of her, she took a tag off the tree. “Dry cat food,” it read. She slipped it in her purse.
The waiting area had a hard floor, comfy chairs, a few magazines on a table. A bulletin board held pictures of lots of animals and their owners. Another framed picture said “Get to know Dr. Lawless” and had pictures of him and his pets. “This is sweet.”
He glanced up from the chart he was looking over. “Oh. Well, people like to see my pets.”
“How many?” she asked as she followed him back through a door.
“Two dogs, two cats,” he said. “Sometimes more if I’m fostering somebody. Minnie is in here.”
She heard the muffled barking behind another door and raised an eyebrow.
“Those are the boarders, or those that are recovering from less intense surgeries. In here I keep those who need a more relaxed environment. Trauma patients or riskier surgeries.”
“And who’s Minnie?” She followed him into the room, where a little beagle lay on a doggie bed. She thumped her tail when they walked up.
“Minnie was hit by a car. The guy who hit her brought her in. She was— It was touch-and-go. She needs more pain meds.”
Darcy stared at the liquid brown eyes, so full of pain yet joy to see them. “Oh, what a sweet girl. Who’s her owner?”
“We don’t know yet. No collar, no tags, no microchip.” He opened the cage door and murmured in a low voice to the dog while Darcy stood back, out of the way, watching. There was a little yelp as he gave her a shot. Then he rubbed her head as she dozed off. “Here. You can pet her while she falls asleep.”
Darcy stepped forward and rubbed the dog’s head. Minnie tried to give her a little lick. “Oh, you poor sweet girl. You don’t know who she belongs to?”
“No.” His tone was grim.
A shudder ran through Darcy. “Abandoned?”
His face was grim. “Happens more than you’d care to know. Foreclosure, need to move, can’t take care of the pets. Sometimes they just leave them in the house and walk away. Sometimes they just drop them off somewhere thinking, hey, it’s an animal, it can fend for itself. They can’t.” Anger laced his voice. “I understand not being able to feed them. But I wish—I wish people would bring them to a shelter rather than just abandon them.”
She touched his wrist with her free hand, thought of the wish tree in the lobby. “That’s so sad. They’ve got you as an advocate, though. That counts as something.”
He moved
up next to her, and in the dim light she saw the weight of this on him. The grimness on his face was reflected in his tone. “It’s not enough. It will never be enough. However.” He reached in, his arm brushing hers, his hand touching hers as he rubbed the now sleeping Minnie’s head. “We do what we can.”
She looked up at him as he looked back down at her. The heat from the proximity of their bodies drowned out everything else. He was so close she could lay her head on his chest. If she angled her body slightly, she could fit against him, see if it was still as perfect as it had been all those years ago. His hand slid over hers on Minnie’s head, and the rough warmth of his palm sent sparks across her skin. He withdrew both their hands together, and his hot gaze dropped to her mouth.
Minnie whimpered in her sleep and Darcy stepped back, her breath shaky, as he shifted his attention to the dog. She cleared her throat. “Will she be okay?” Her words were a little breathy.
“I hope so. So far so good.” She heard the roughness of his voice and closed her eyes. This attraction wasn’t welcome, yet she couldn’t control her reaction to him any more than she could stop breathing.
He latched the cage and made a note in the chart. She stepped a little farther back. “Do you have to come back and check on her later?”
He shook his head. “Jennifer will check on her later tonight. There’s an apartment upstairs. She lives there and usually when we have a case like this takes the middle of the night shift.”
“Oh. Well. That’s handy,” she murmured, trying to ignore the completely irrational spurt of jealousy at the casual mention of the other woman. Stupid, and totally unwarranted.
“Yeah, it works well.” He tipped his head toward the door. “I’ve done what I need to here. You ready?”
She followed him back out, noting the quiet with which he shut the door behind him. She nodded toward the other door. “Do they need to be taken out?”
“No, that’s all been taken care of for the evening,” he said, and set Minnie’s chart on the front desk.
