Summer of Two Wishes

by Julia London

  “You already lost some of your best years, man,” Deon had said. “And you gonna lose more of your life waiting for her to figure out if you’re her man or not? She-it.”

  Deon had a point. Finn had been back in Texas a little more than three weeks. He recognized it was not an easy situation for Macy, but she needed to make her decision and stand by it, for all their sakes.

  “Ease up, Macy. Give him some slack,” Finn said.

  She snorted. “Slack or no slack, Barney is not going to change direction or speed,” she said laughingly. At that moment, Barney walked under a tree. “Oh!” she cried, bending down to avoid being hit by a limb and grabbing onto her big floppy hat at the same moment. “And I think he is determined to kill me!”

  “He smells water.”

  “I hope so, for his sake,” Macy said. “It’s really too hot for a beat-up old horse. He’s staggering along, it’s so hot.”

  “He’s limping because he had a hoof problem. But we’re almost to the river.”

  They crested a small rise, and below it was the abandoned grove of pecan trees that Luke had told him about. “We’re almost there,” he said to Macy. He’d no sooner had the words out when Fred picked up his pace. He smelled water, too.

  Finn let him canter down to the water’s edge. Barney was slower; Finn had already dismounted under the row of old pecans and caught Barney’s bridle as the horse crowded in beside Fred. He helped Macy get down—pulled her down, really—before Barney waded into the shallow edge of river. Macy stumbled a little when Finn let her go. “Ouch,” she said, grimacing. “Ouch, ouch, ouch. My legs feel like jelly.”

  Finn smiled and tossed the backpack onto a rotting picnic table. Milo, who had disappeared some fifty yards back, reappeared once more, swimming downstream, then going round in a big circle before climbing up on the bank, shaking off, and diving back in again.

  “Nice spot,” Finn said.

  “It’s gorgeous!” Macy exclaimed, and removed her hat to wipe her forehead. “It reminds me of the creek that runs through Two Wishes.” She smiled brightly. “Do you remember that place?”

  “I remember.” It was just a small little clearing on the creek’s edge, and in the fall, the leaves of the burr oak would fall, blanketing it. Finn loved that little place—he swore some of the best fishing in Cedar County was to be had in that spot.

  How many lazy Sunday afternoons had they spent there, Macy reading under a tree, Finn fishing? They didn’t talk—they didn’t need to. They just existed, as comfortable with one another as they were in their own skin. Finn had never felt that way about another person in his life. He doubted he ever would again.

  Macy walked down to the water’s edge as he pulled out the things he’d brought along for a picnic lunch. She scolded Milo when Milo swam out and sprayed her, then scampered back to the cover of the pecan trees.

  Finn smiled to himself and glanced at what he’d laid out. He wasn’t much of a gourmet. He’d brought some apples for the horses, some ready-made sandwiches he’d picked up at a little deli on the square in Cedar Springs, and, because he knew Macy as well as he did, some bottled water and a couple of gourmet brownies.

  “Hungry?” he asked her.

  “Starving,” she said as she wandered over to survey the spread.

  “It’s nothing fancy, but it ought to tide us over,” he said, and handed her a sandwich.

  She grinned at him, her smile as bright and beautiful as a summer morning. She grabbed the offered sandwich out of his hand and settled on top of the picnic table beneath the shade of the pecan tree. A steady breeze made it comfortably warm.

  Finn took apples down to Fred and Barney, scattering them on the grass. For Milo, Finn had some jerky. He returned to the picnic table, picked up a sandwich, and opened the wax paper. It was halved; he took one half and munched as he looked out over the scenery.

  “This is really a treat, Finn. Thank you,” Macy said before taking a bite from the second half of her sandwich. “I needed to get out and just…breathe,” she said with a sigh.

  He idly glanced at her. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were hungry,” he teased her.

  “Are you going to eat that?” she asked, pointing to his second half.

  Finn laughed. “Doesn’t Laru feed you?”

  “Yes,” Macy said with a smile, “but not enough.” She polished off the last of her sandwich and gazed out over the river. “I can’t remember the last time I was out in the country,” Macy said. “I miss it.”

  Finn wondered what she and Wyatt did on lazy Sunday afternoons. “What’s kept you from being in the country?”

  “Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “I guess I’ve been really busy—or was—with Project Lifeline. And, you know….”

  “What do you mean was?” he asked curiously.

  “Oh,” she said, flicking her wrist. “The committee seems to think that if I continued to work on the big fund-raiser, any media attention we get would be because of me—well, us, really—and it turns the attention from the cause.”

  Finn frowned. “I thought you founded that organization.”

  “I did.”

  “That’s not right,” he said.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said. “They’re probably right. Mom told me that reporters keep calling, wanting my side of the story.”

  Damn reporters were like dogs with a bone. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her into his side, and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t want the attention, either.”

  “I missed you so much, Finn,” Macy said softly. “I know I’ve told you that, but you will never know just how much I missed you.”

  Surprised, Finn cocked his head to look in her face.

  She smiled and pushed her hair aside. “I keep saying it, but I really do wish we could go back in time and start all over.”

  “There have been many times that I wish I’d never joined up.”

  “No, I don’t mean that,” she said. “I wish you hadn’t, but you know that. I mean…I wish I could go back to the moment Lieutenant Colonel Freeman told me you were alive. I was so shocked, and astounded, and so happy. I couldn’t really think straight. But now that some time has passed, I think…” Her voice trailed off and she looked at the river. “I wish I would have done things differently.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “Like what?” she asked, her eyes skating over his face.

  “Well, I wouldn’t have put so many hopes on two slender shoulders, for one.”

  Macy colored. “I deserved that, I guess.”

  “I’m not blaming you, Macy,” he said. “It wasn’t fair. You’re not alone in wishing you’d done things differently. I’m feeling a little better about how things worked out, and I’ve decided a few things. I wanted to tell you before I told anyone else.”

  “What’s that?”

  He took her hand in his. “I can’t start up a training ranch again,” he said. “I don’t have the money and it would take me years to get a couple of horses trained well enough to turn out to competition or training.”

  Macy instantly squeezed her eyes shut, as if that news pained her. “I’m so sorry, Finn—”

  “I’m not telling you this so you can apologize again, Macy. What’s done is done and there’s no point in looking back. And I think I’ve got a better idea.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him hopefully.

  “See those two horses?” he asked, pointing at Fred and Barney. “They’ve been treated badly and now they’ve got no place to go. Their survival depends on some unknown rancher or outfit who doesn’t mind that they aren’t working horses anymore, just a money drain. They need food, they need care, they need space to roam and graze. That’s a lot to ask for nothing in return.”

  “I don’t understand,” Macy said, looking at the horses.

  “It’s an unfortunate fact that there are abused animals in this world. I’d like to turn the ranch into a large-animal rescue operation.”


  Her eyes widened with surprised. “Really? How?”

  “It would take some doing,” Finn admitted. “I’d have to raise money to get feed and supplies, and then I’d have to let people know there is a place they can bring large animals. Luke said he’d do the veterinary services. I wouldn’t be able to pay him much in the beginning, but he’s fine with that. I’d need to build a new barn and renovate the house so there’s a real office.”

  “But how would you pay for something like that?”

  “Donations and grants. Selling the animals I can rehabilitate. I thought I might be able to get some contracts with local governments who seize animals like Fred and Barney and need a place to put them. They could recoup the costs through court fines.”

  A smile slowly spread across Macy’s face. “Finn…that’s a wonderful idea,” she said breathlessly. “It’s so noble and so—”

  “It’s not so noble,” he said. “I just want a place misfits can go, myself included.”

  “You’re not a misfit!”

  “Yeah, I am, Macy,” he said. “I’ve never been the most outgoing cowboy; you know that. Now, I’m the guy who survived the Taliban. That’s all anyone wants from me, but I don’t want to talk about it; I want to forget it. I desperately want to forget it, and it makes me shy away from people even more than normal. The truth is, I don’t know how I fit in anymore, and horses like these two don’t fit in anymore, and there are other animals that don’t fit in either, like old steers and big cats some of these rich idiots bought when they were cute little cubs and then can’t handle when they grow up.”

  “You’re not a misfit, Finn. You’re a wonderful, thoughtful man, and this is a perfect idea,” Macy said. “I will give you every dime I have left from the death gratuity and life insurance.”

  “I don’t want that money,” Finn said.

  “Yes! Yes, it’s yours, and you have to have it, and—”

  “Macy,” he said, putting his hand on her knee. “I don’t want the money. I want you. That’s all I want. I can’t do this without you. I need you. I love you as much as I ever did and I’ll carry you with me, always. But you have to know that I’m not going to spend any more time trying to convince you that you should be with me. It’s time for you to fish or cut bait.” He turned toward her, putting his hand to her neck. “So I’m going to ask you once more—will you come build a new life with me on the ranch?”

  Macy’s eyes filled with tears. She gasped, almost as if the question had caused her physical pain.

  Finn’s heart sank like a rock. His hand fell from her neck and he stood up.

  “Wait!” Macy cried, reaching for his arm. “Can’t you see how badly I want to be with you, Finn? To be only yours, to go back to what I believe was a perfect love?” she cried, gesturing grandly. “That’s what we had, you know. We had a perfect love. I love you with all my heart, and I haven’t been able to think about anything but you.”

  “Then what is it? Is it Wyatt? Honest to God, Macy, I’ll go with you when you tell him. I won’t let him touch you or—”

  “Wyatt would never hurt me, Finn. And it’s not that. Okay it is that, because I love Wyatt, too, but I don’t want to hurt him, and—”

  “We’ve been through this already, baby. Somebody is going to get hurt. That’s just a fact you have to face.”

  Macy buried her face in her hands. “My God, how did I ever get here?” She abruptly stood up from the picnic table and turned away from him, threw her floppy hat on the table, and stood with her hands on the small of her back. “This is so hard,” she said solemnly. “The mud just seems to get thicker and thicker, and I feel like it’s pulling me under—”

  “Tell me what it is, Macy,” Finn demanded. “Tell me whatever the hell it is and I promise you, I will fix it. But you have to tell me, because I am moving on from here, today, and either you’re going with me—today—or you’re going back to him. You have to decide.”

  She opened her mouth to speak. Closed it.

  “Macy,” he said, his voice warning and pleading at the same time, his heart lurching.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said quietly.

  33

  Macy hadn’t meant to tell Finn precisely that way, but when she finally said it out loud, she realized there was really no good way to tell him.

  He was as stunned as she thought he would be, but the one thing she had not anticipated was that he might, for one slender moment, believe it was his. She saw the confusion in his eyes, in that awkward moment that he must have been counting back to the day they’d made love in the back of his pickup truck. “No, Finn—it’s Wyatt’s,” she said softly.

  He took an unsteady step backward, as if she’d just punched him. His gaze dropped to her stomach. Macy had never seen such plain heartache on a man before and it made her feel a little unsteady. She sank onto the bench of the picnic table, dismayed by her weakness.

  “Have you told him?” Finn asked hoarsely.

  Macy shook her head. “I just went to the doctor and I couldn’t get hold of him.”

  “How far along are you?”

  Macy heard in that—or perhaps read into it—the question of when she’d last been with Wyatt. “Six weeks.” Six weeks, an entire lifetime from where she was now. Six weeks ago, she and Wyatt were trying to conceive a child, talking about names and schools, and what their kid would be when he or she grew up.

  “Does anyone know?” Finn asked.

  “Laru and Jesse. They guessed, because I’ve been sick and…and hungry,” she said.

  Finn nodded. Clenched his jaw. Turned toward the river and pushed a hand through his hair. She could see his shoulders rise with a deep breath, then slowly lower again.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again,” she said, her voice breaking. She’d thought a lot about it, had imagined him smiling sadly, agreeing it was probably best they parted ways. She’d imagined him getting in his truck and driving away, but perhaps riding away, as he would surely do at any moment, was more fitting. “It feels like everything is stacked against us,” she said sadly. “I don’t know what to say, other than I am sorrier than you will ever know,” she said, putting her hands on her belly. “Those words must sound so meaningless to you by now, but I am truly sorry.”

  “I don’t care,” Finn said, his back still to her.

  Macy grimaced with the pain those words caused her. “I don’t blame you,” she murmured.

  “No, you misunderstand.” He turned toward her. “I don’t care that it’s Wyatt’s baby. I still want you, Macy, the baby and all.”

  Stunned, Macy gaped at him. She had imagined every different scenario, but never this one. “You can’t mean that.”

  “I do. I don’t care,” he said again. “That baby may as well be mine, because it doesn’t change the way I feel about you one bit. I love you. I want to be with you, Macy. And if you have a baby, I’ll love the baby, too. The only thing that matters to me is that I have you and that we’re together—baby and all.”

  “Do you honestly mean that?” she asked. “Don’t you want to think about it?”

  “I don’t need to think about it. I won’t be the first man in America to welcome a child into his life that isn’t his. So are you coming with me, Macy?”

  “Ohmigod,” Macy said. “I never dreamed…”

  “That’s because you didn’t spend three years chained to a wall,” he said. “If you had, you might have dreamed about the impossible. That baby is just another part of you that I will love—”

  “Finn!” she cried. She threw herself at him, almost afraid if she didn’t, he’d take it all back and this dream would disappear. She locked her arms around his shoulders, her face in his neck. Finn held her tightly. “What about Wyatt?” he asked.

  “I know, I know. It’s so heartless to tell him I’m pregnant but leaving him. But I can’t deny what’s in my heart. It would be crueler to remain married when I want to be with you.”

  Finn reared back a
little to look at her. “Then you’re coming with me?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes, yes…” Macy kissed him hard.

  “Macy…”

  The whisper of her name riled Macy’s blood as Finn drew her to his mouth, his body.

  She was flying and falling at once and clung to his waist, her leg wedged between his, pressed against him, wanting to be possessed by him as much as he wanted to possess her. Finn cupped her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb while he pressed back against her. After all the uncertainty and confusion, she was buoyed by his unconditional desire for her. If she could, she would have disappeared into him altogether, but Finn lifted his head, gazed into her eyes, and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “You and me, baby. We were destined for each other long before we knew it.”

  Macy nodded. “You and me,” she whispered.

  Finn kissed her again, so thoroughly that she somehow found herself flat on her back on an old, rotting picnic table, beneath a canopy of pecan trees, on the banks of a river, under a summer sky so blue that it almost looked painted. And as Finn showed her just how much he wanted her, Macy fell harder and flew higher than she’d ever done in her life.

  When they floated back to earth, they spent the afternoon talking about the changes they’d make to the ranch, dreaming of a new house, a new barn, and the animals they’d have. Macy convinced Finn that the best use of the life insurance money she’d received was to put it toward the rescue ranch. But when Milo was roused from his nap beneath the picnic table and the horses began to snort and neigh at them, they reluctantly returned to Luke’s clinic.

  Later, when they turned into Laru’s drive, Finn parked the truck and looked at the limestone house, then at Macy. “You can’t go on living here forever. I can’t go on living at Mom’s. Let’s rent a place in town until we can make Two Wishes inhabitable.”

  Macy had a fleeting thought of the house in Arbolago Hills and of all the things Wyatt had given her. Right now, those things felt easy to give up.