Mistletoe Twins. Lois Richer
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I blew my last job. But I’m not sure I’m ready to settle down yet.”
“You had to be responsible when you were flying, Mac,” she reminded. Something in his expression altered. Was it her reminder about flying? “Anyway, you just said the Double M has a capable ranch manager in Gabe Webber. He knows as much about ranching as your dad. Can’t you leave most of the routine stuff up to him? Isn’t that why ranchers have hired men?”
“I guess. You make it sound like I don’t even really need to be there.” Her bestie didn’t look at her, so Adele knew there was something else.
“Talk to me, Mac.”
“You’ve changed since you left The Haven, Delly.” Those gorgeous eyes of his seemed sad. “You’ve matured. I’m not sure I have. Not enough.”
“Why do you say that?” Surprised to see Mac fiddle with a napkin, she pressed him. “How have I matured? Do I look old?” Her glance in the kitchen mirror produced a laugh from Mac.
“No! But you’re more focused, more determined than before. Your plan took a hit with your breakup, but you haven’t given up. You’re going after a new dream. I don’t even have a dream.” His grin was wry.
“So dream one.”
“I wish I could. It’s just—flying is like living life on the edge,” he mused aloud, struggling to give words to his feelings. “If things get too boring or too staid I might regret taking on the Double M, or worse, make a mess of it, which will then make my parents ashamed of me.”
“Like that would ever happen. They’re so proud of you,” she praised. “And don’t think I have all the answers or any cast-in-stone plans. All I know is I can’t give up my motherhood dream.” Confused by Mac’s now-glowering look she asked, “Tell me about flying your jets. What was it like?”
Immediately his slouch disappeared. His backbone straightened and his shoulders came to attention. His turquoise eyes sparkled with excitement, as if someone had switched on a light inside him.
“Oh, Delly, it’s amazing. There’s such freedom—nothing’s scripted. You have to think fast and improvise to survive. When I’m soaring through the clouds I feel like I can handle anything. And then I land.” Just as suddenly the light in him was snuffed out. “I guess I’m addicted to that adrenaline rush.”
“You don’t think you’ll find that on the Double M?” Oh, Lord, how can I help him?
“Maybe I could.” He didn’t sound convinced. “If I hadn’t lost my hand or injured my leg.”
“Did you feel a thrill like that when you lived here before?” she wondered aloud.
“Sometimes. Mostly at the rodeo or when I was breaking a very stubborn horse.” Mac’s troubled face sent a pang through her. “Remember how if I got restless I took off to the mountains. If I needed excitement, I’d hike the badlands. Or ski the backcountry. Or climb where tourists never go.”
All very risky activities, Adele mentally noted. Was he running to or away from something?
“I don’t have those options anymore,” he muttered.
“Mac, you can still ski—”
“I don’t want to go to Marmot Basin and stand in line while people gawk at me as I struggle to figure out how to manipulate myself on and off the chair lift with one hand,” he interrupted bluntly, his face dark. “I don’t want to have to always have someone with me to watch out for me when I white-water raft or climb a rock face. If you want the truth, Delly, if I can’t have what I had, I just want to hide.” His shoulders slumped. “Maybe the ranch is the best place to do that.”
Shocked by the despair in his words and voice, Adele was at a loss. It was no use telling her pal that he’d figure it out or find something else to give him the same high. This was Mac. He’d always gotten his high from life lived on the edge, and now he felt he couldn’t.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t dump my frustrations on you.” His hand covered hers and his gorgeous smile flashed, hiding the loss she’d seen revealed in his eyes mere moments earlier. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”
“Stop it, Mac.” She jerked her hand from under his and rose, facing him as annoyance surged through her. “Stop pretending everything’s fine. I can take your honesty. I can’t take your fake acceptance of what life has handed you.”
To her complete exasperation he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded, hands on hips.
“You and your honesty.” Mac shook his head. “Spicy, tart, yet sweet and always, always that blunt demand for honesty. You’re the only one who has never let me get away with anything, do you know that, Delly?”
Adele didn’t know what to say.
“Remember the night I was going to go hot-rodding and you made me pull over so you could get out?”
“Yes.” Adele mostly remembered how maddened she’d been.
“You were always the voice of reason,” he said softly, studying her face. “I used to hear your voice sometimes when I was flying.”
“No doubt right before you were about to try some silly stunt.” She shuddered at the fleeting thought of her world without Mac.
“Sometimes.” He looked at his damaged arm. When he spoke next his voice was very quiet, almost as if he were talking to himself. “When I was going down the last time, I could almost hear you chewing me out for—”
“For what?” she nudged, curious to hear. But Mac’s face froze. He jerked to his feet.
“I need to get home. I should at least feed my own horses now that I’m back, not leave it to Dad.”
“Mac?” Adele waited until he was looking at her. “May I say something?” She smiled at his slow nod. “You can still do an awful lot, even take chances again, if you must. But maybe now you need to think ahead a bit more, plan it out. Set your goal, calculate the risk and decide if the payoff is big enough.”
“Ah, but spur-of-the-moment is half the fun, Delly.” His grin returned, as if the old Mac was back, but she knew it was a pretense. Unfortunately he left before she could think of a suitable comeback.
Adele began setting the table, her thoughts in a turmoil. The man was used to riding a roller coaster through life. He’d always thrived on action and if it wasn’t there, he’d created it. But Mac was bright, capable and adept at finding unconventional solutions to problems. She didn’t think that had changed.
What had changed was Mac’s fearlessness. The old Mac would never have cared if someone was watching him or not. He would have charged ahead and done what he wanted, gotten his thrill.
“I’m his friend, so somehow I have to help him see that ranching isn’t a dead end, that there’s still plenty of opportunity to live an exciting life on the Double M. But how do I do that, Lord?” she asked aloud. Past images of Mac with his precious miniature horses filled her mind. “Maybe I’ll start with them.”
Francie and Franklyn rushed into the room, raving about their story.
“It was about horses, huh?” Okay, God, I’m taking that as Your nudge. “How’d you like to go visit Mac on his ranch tomorrow? Maybe he’ll show you his horses. They’re just your size.”
Entranced by the prospect, the twins accepted the paper and crayons she offered and sat down on the window seat to draw pictures for Mac. When Jake arrived with the cabbage, the kids told him about their planned trip to the ranch.
“You’re really good at keeping them busy,” he said to Adele. “A born mom.”
“Hardly.” After Jake left, Adele put the finishing touches on the meal, but his words replayed