Mac's Law

by Sarah McCarty

  “You have a wild streak in you, Jessie; that scares the hell out of me.”

  “I like to have fun, Mac, but I don’t do anything without consulting my brain first.”

  “You made that point very effectively this evening.”

  “I’m glad.” Jessie took two steps back, feeling his arms slip regretfully away from her. “I hope you’ll remember that in the days to come.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good, because, Mac?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m moving into town.”

  “What?” He snapped up straight, all nostalgia gone.

  Jessie had expected just such a reaction. That’s why she’d moved away, but it was still hard to say this.

  “What in hell for?”

  “I’m leaving because while I think tonight might have opened your eyes to the problem, I’m not fool enough to believe it’s a cure.”

  “So you’re running out?”

  “No. I’m giving you space.”

  “I think you’re going overboard.”

  “Uh-huh. Look me in the eye, Mac.”

  “I’m looking.” Technically, that wasn’t true. He was doing an in-depth study of the general area, but she wouldn’t call it direct contact.

  “Now,” she said, letting the discrepancy pass. “I want you to think how much you love me and tell me you don’t see an image of your mom as you last saw her.”

  He was a long time answering, reinforcing her conviction that she was doing the right thing despite his next words.

  “I can get a hold on it Jessie, now that I know what’s driving me.”

  She folded her arms around her waist, needing an anchor, knowing it couldn’t be him right now. “I’m counting on it. That’s why I’m leaving.”

  “I hope you understand that doesn’t make a bit of sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense to me.”

  He leaned his shoulder against the fence and crossed his arms over his chest. “Would you be in the mood to explain it to me?”

  “I might.” She wished she could maintain the same confident pose while confessing this, but she couldn’t, so she concentrated on her cast, her finger tracing the signatures there. “I have my weaknesses, too. And you’re one.” She risked a quick glance up and caught a slight smile tilting his lips. “I have a tendency to think I can fix anything if I try hard enough.” She shrugged, feeling the helplessness, burying the doubts. “I can’t fix this for you, Mac. This battle is yours alone. If I stayed here, I’d make excuses for you, allow you to seduce me away from reality, and just,” she shrugged, “generally screw things up trying to make things easier for you.”

  His finger under her chin forced her gaze to his. There was a world of love and compassion in his eyes. “But you’d still be unhappy?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d still feel trapped?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed wiping a tear from her cheek with a brush of his thumb. “Then I guess maybe you’re doing the right thing.”

  “I hope so.”

  He laughed, a hoarse sound that combined humor with love, misery with hope. “Don’t go shilly-shallying with determination now, honey girl. Not unless you want me to succumb to my instincts and kiss you until you can’t imagine any life but one with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  He hugged her tight. “But not the way things are now?”

  “No.”

  “Then pack your bags.”

  She looked up into his eyes, loving him so much for his understanding. “I already did.”

  He flicked the end of her nose with his finger. “Not taking any chances, huh?”

  “Plain mush when it comes to you.” She swallowed. Hard. Fresh tears burned her eyes. “Thanks for making it easy for me.”

  He wiped a tear off her cheek. The tenderness in the gesture almost undermined her resolve. “Just keep in mind I’ll be making it just as easy for you to come back.”

  “As I said, I’m counting on it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  She wanted to ask him the same question but she bit her tongue. Whatever Mac did, he had to do it himself. “Bull has offered me a job running the Bar and Grill. He said he and his wife have always wanted to take a second honeymoon. If I want a job, I’ve got one covering for them.”

  “And after that?”

  She bit her lip, but replied honestly. “I don’t know. I’ll just wait and see what happens.”

  Between them lay the unspoken hope that she would be back at the ranch. Jessie never appreciated anything more than she appreciated the fact that Mac didn’t throw out promises they both knew he might not be able to keep.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tonight.”

  “So soon?”

  They’d already gone over the reasons why, so she didn’t drag them out again. Damn, it was so hard to walk away when he stood before her, tall and strong, looking capable of winning any battle, but she had to, because if she hung around, he’d never work up to the fight. She wiped at the tears seeping down her cheeks, forgetting about her cast and scraping her cheek in the process.

  “Ah, honey, don’t cry. I’ll get this thing under control in no time. Heck, after tonight, it’s probably just a formality.”

  “It’d better be,” she warned half jokingly. The kiss she aimed at his mouth landed on his chin. “I love you, Mac Hollister.” Dropping to the ground, she dashed for the house, a deep, yawning void opening up inside, growing wider with every step.

  * * * * *

  For a mere formality, it was taking a long time, Jessie thought, six weeks later, as she stood in front of the grill at Bull’s Bar and Grill. She sighed and flipped the burgers she was frying. Reaching into the bowl beside the cook surface, she pinched up a bit of her special spice and sprinkled it over the top of two of the burgers.

  “Hey Jess, why don’t you put a bit of that seasoning on mine, too?”

  “You got it, Henry,” she called over her shoulder as she zapped the last burger, waited a minute, placed a slice of cheese on one and then removed all three from the grill to the waiting, prepped plates.

  “Did you want a pickle with that today, Henry?”

  “Nah, I’ll pass.” She turned and slid the plates down the counter. Henry and his cronies each stuck out a hand at the appropriate moment, stopping their lunch before it could pass on by. It seemed she’d done this enough in the last weeks that it was a well-orchestrated play. A sad smile mustered its way from deep inside. She was going to miss this town.

  “Mac will come around.”

  Jessie forced more cheer into her smile. “I know, Henry.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “It’s just that he’s going to have to go a bit further after this week.”

  Henry sighed as if her problems were his own. “Bull can’t afford to pay you anymore?”

  “This isn’t the busiest time of year.”

  “Maybe you could find a job somewhere else…?”

  She shook her head.

  Henry shoved a French fry into his barbecued beans. “Nah. I guess you couldn’t.”

  He looked so woebegone, Jessie found herself in the position of having to cheer him up. “Hey, I can always come visit.”

  He lifted his eyes from his plate and the sadness in their depths was based on understanding. “But you won’t, will you?”

  She sighed. It seemed everyone in the restaurant stopped chewing in order to hear her answer. “No.”

  “Because it will hurt too much.”

  “Yes.”

  Henry thumped the ketchup bottle on the bottom so hard the contents gushed all over his plate. “Damn.”

  “Let me fix you another.”

  He pushed his plate out of her reach. “No thanks. I’m not hungry anyway.”

  Henry was always hungry. Jessie was touched that he’d forgo a meal in honor of her misery, but not enough to let a slight to Mac go unremarked. “Don’t you give up on him.”


  “Why not? It isn’t as if he’s kept in touch. You could be dead for all the attention he’s paid.”

  Jessie laughed at the absurdity of that. “C’mon, Henry. This is Round the Bend. I bet Mac is as aware of my movements as I am of his.” She shot him a reproachful glance. “Or did you think I assumed your reports only went one-way?”

  The older man had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t think too hard on it either way.”

  “So…?”

  “So what?”

  “So why is getting information suddenly like pulling teeth?” she asked as she grabbed a soapy cloth and started wiping down the counter. “Is Mac back from wherever it is he disappeared to?”

  Henry picked up a French fry and started drawing faces in the mess in his plate. “No.”

  She scrubbed harder at the counter as if through that alone she could release the frustration inside. “Damn.”

  “Maybe it is time you got out of here.”

  “What?” Jessie looked up at Henry’s friend Cole, not understanding his reference.

  He nodded in the direction of the towel in her hand. “The way you’re rubbing at that counter brings Bull to mind.”

  Jessie tossed the towel in the sink and threw her hands up in surrender. “Heaven forbid!” She turned as a commotion in the street caught her attention. And held it.

  Two horses raced up the street, a dust storm kicking up in their wake. On top of the horses two men perched, wild whoops heralding their approach. One of those riders looked familiar. There was no mistaking the long black hair flowing out behind him. She squinted to be sure. “Is that Zach?”

  “Sure looks like him,” Bull said, coming out of the back where he’d been doing books. “You don’t suppose he finally came to his senses and quit that damned dancing, do you?”

  Jessie frowned, concentrating on the second man. “I don’t think that’s likely. Coulton said he’s the hit of the show.” She held her breath, because the second man looked familiar too. Dearly so, and she was afraid of hoping after six weeks of disappointment.

  “Is that Mac riding with that crazy fool?” Cole asked. “What the hell is he dressed up like an Indian for? And what’s that stuff on his face?”

  Jessie caught the edge of the counter for support. Speculation ran rampant around the bar, but she didn’t participate. Couldn’t even care less, because it was Mac. He was finally here and those were laugh lines peeking through the crazy blue makeup surrounding his eyes. Zach dismounted and opened the double doors of the bar.

  “You don’t suppose he plans on…” Henry stopped to hoot with laughter and slap his thigh. “Hot damn! Clear a path, folks. That boy’s coming on in!”

  And he was. Horse and all plunged up the steps and into the restaurant. People scattered right and left, dragging tables and chairs with them, alternately laughing and shouting encouragement. Mac knocked his head on the top of the door. He swore, rubbed the spot, but he kept on coming. Straight to the counter behind which Jessie was standing. And with every step, the lines around his eyes deepened.

  An answering laughter blossomed deep inside Jessie. “Hi, Mac.”

  “Nice woman.”

  She smiled, recognizing her cue. “Thank you.”

  “Me great warrior.”

  “I can tell that from your coup feathers attached to…” She peered around the horse’s neck, “…your arm.”

  He ran his eyes from the top of her head on down. He took so long with his perusal, goose bumps sprang up along Jessie’s arm and the bystanders started catcalling advice. “Damned nice woman.”

  She reached behind her and untied her apron. “If this is some sort of Western pickup, I’ve got to tell you, I’m…” Her eyes did just as thorough a perusal of his bare shoulders and chest as she tossed the apron on the counter, “definitely interested.”

  Mac’s teeth were very white against the black makeup he’d smeared around his mouth. He scooted back on the horse’s hindquarters and held out a hand, “Come, woman.”

  Jessie debated the barricade of the counter for a moment, but then Bull’s hands around her waist took care of the matter. “Up you go.”

  Her “Thank you” went unnoticed as the grill’s patrons and the small crowd outside cheered when her hand met Mac’s and he pulled her sideways onto the saddle in front of him. She immediately wrapped her hands around his waist and snuggled close to his chest. He reeked of greasepaint and horse. She didn’t think she’d ever smelled anything as welcome in her entire life.

  As he backed the horse around, he dropped a kiss onto her head and stated clearly, “You my woman now.”

  She was, but there was something she wanted to know before she admitted it. She looked up into his laughing blue eyes and demanded, “What in hell took you so long?”

  The cheer that had been dying down took off on wings of laughter as those closest to the door heard what she’d said and passed it down the line.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What in hell took me so long?” Mac asked as he stood in the master bath of his house, scrubbing the last of the greasepaint off with cold cream. “Your man does his romantic best to sweep you off your feet, and that’s how you respond?” His right eyebrow kicked up in the manner she loved, bringing a smile to her lips. “Not‘I love you’, not even ‘at last’. Just, ‘what in hell took you so long’?”

  Jessie leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb and smiled up at him. He wasn’t angry. Tired, yes. Relieved, yes. Anxious, yes. Her gaze dipped to his groin where his cock bulged—and maybe a bit horny. But he wasn’t angry. “It was what I most wanted to know.”

  Mac tossed the towel he’d been using on the toilet lid and peered into the mirror while asking, “Did I get all that gunk off?”

  “Mostly.” She took the step necessary to touch a finger to the corner of his mouth. “You don’t look so fierce anymore.”

  He slid his arms around her waist and leaned back, bringing her hips into his. Her braid fell over his arm, as he wrapped it around his wrist, tugging her head back further. “I don’t, huh?”

  A tiny frisson of anticipation skittered along her nerves. He had that look in his eye—the one that said he knew something she didn’t. The one he always had when he took over and gave her the hottest times. She snuggled the ridge of his cock into the crease of her thighs. “Nope.”

  The laughter took Mac by surprise. Almost as much as the overwhelming surge of tenderness that accompanied it. “You’ve been sorely missed around here, Jessie girl.”

  Her response of “Good” sounded off, and her gaze avoided his. He tipped her chin up. Shadows flitted in her eyes. Kissing each lid closed, he dropped another kiss, just for the hell of it, on her nose, and then backed her out of the bathroom. She kept her eyes closed, probably thinking she hid her uncertainty from him, yet trusting him to steer her safely. He pulled her chest a little tighter to his. Damn, he loved her. Her eyes popped open as soon as the back of her knees hit the bed.

  “You weren’t thinking of sidetracking me, were you?”

  He placed his fingers on her shoulders and gave her an easy push, toppling her onto the mattress. She lay there, a smile on her face and a question in her big green eyes. Hopeful.

  “Nope. When I get serious about that bed, you’ll know, and it won’t be anything as trivial as a side trip.” He sat beside her, running his fingers along the soft curve of her cheek. “I was just planning on getting more comfortable.”

  She shifted up onto her elbows, and narrowed her eyes. “This talk isn’t going to be a formality, is it?” There was a wealth of suspicion in her voice as she pointed out, “’Cause your definition of formality stretches into forever.”

  Mac laughed and braced himself on his elbow beside her, cupping her chin in his hand. “I’m humbly sorry for taking so long to get my head screwed on straight.” He shifted. When she lost her balance, he pulled her into his arms, snuggling her cheek into his shoulder. “That’s bett
er.”

  She didn’t move, just lay there, soft and trusting against him. When he looked down her eyes were closed and her face had an expression of intense concentration. She opened her eyes and lifted her left hand to touch his jaw.

  “I missed you.” The aching sadness in her voice tore at him. Catching her hand in his, he pressed it hard against his cheek. “I missed you too, honey girl. Every damned minute of every damned day.”

  He ran his thumb over her fingers and frowned. Something was definitely missing.