Читать книгу A Husband For The Holidays - Ami Weaver - Страница 10

Chapter Four

Darcy walked into Java, the local coffee shop, with her laptop bag on her shoulder. Internet at the farm was slow and spotty at best. She needed to check in at work, and this was the best way to do it. She stepped up to the counter, smiled at the barista she didn’t recognize and ordered a latte. Then she settled in at a table by the window and booted up her computer.

She frowned at the sheer number of emails. It’d been only a few days since she left, and there were nearly a hundred of them. Many of them from her team on the Grant project. Her phone didn’t work reliably up here, either. Apparently the farm was in a technological dead zone. With a sigh, she opened the first one, called her assistant and expected to be putting out fires.

So she didn’t see Mack until he was right across from her. She looked up and her heart caught. She didn’t hear what her assistant said and had to ask her to repeat. She pulled her computer closer, opening a space on the other side of the table, and gave him a nod. God only knew what this would do to gossip.

When she managed to hang up, he arched an eyebrow. “Problems?”

“I’ve got it under control,” she said, and gave a sharp little laugh. “They take credit for the good stuff, but as soon as things turn into a flaming pile of poo they bail and blame me.”

“Why do you put up with it?”

The question stopped her hand in midlift of her now cool latte. Why did she? “I don’t know. It’s just the way it is.”

Mack shook his head. “Sounds as if you need a new team.”

She set her cup down. “I’ve got it under control,” she repeated. She wasn’t sure why her temper was sparking. Why he’d touched a nerve with a simple observation. “I’ve worked very hard to get where I am. I’m not going to quit.”

“No?” His voice was deadly soft. “Isn’t that what you do?”

Her gaze snapped to his, but his was carefully blank. Temper surged, and she welcomed its heat because his words left her cold. “No. I don’t. I didn’t.”

“Sure you did. You never gave us a chance, Darcy.”

Darcy’s jaw nearly hit the table. “This is not the place for this conversation.” She snapped the laptop closed, hands shaking with fury. “In fact, there’s no place for this conversation because that would imply we had something to talk about.”

“Easy,” he said softly. “We’re being watched.”

Of course they were. She bit back a sharp retort and slid the laptop into her bag. She offered him a stiff smile. “Enjoy your coffee.”

She stood and spun around. Her bag caught on the chair and sent it toppling to the floor. Every head turned, but Mack was off his chair before she could move. He picked up the chair and slid a hand under her elbow. “I’m sorry,” he said in her ear as he guided her to the door. She just shook her head, because any words she had for him weren’t fit for anyone to overhear. Outside she yanked her arm away and walked as fast as she could in the opposite direction of where he was. Which, she realized after about twenty steam-fueled steps, was away from her car. Which sat in front of the coffee shop. Where Mack stood.

She stopped, shut her eyes, then pivoted. He had his hands in his pockets. He tipped his head toward her car.

She lifted her chin and walked back. When she got close enough to kick him—which was awfully tempting—he caught her arm. “Darcy. I’m sorry.”

She looked him in the eye and saw the remorse there. “It’s too late, Mack. Sorry isn’t enough.”

She got in her car and managed to get onto the street with tears burning in her eyes. Oh, no, sorry wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough. And she knew that from years of being sorry for how things ended with their marriage. From knowing she could never go back and fix it. Go back and handle it differently, right down to deciding to turn left instead of right.

To save the baby he’d wanted so desperately. When she hadn’t been ready to be a mother. She’d barely been ready to be a wife. But she’d gotten pregnant and he’d insisted they marry.

As always, when it came to Mack, she’d been unable to say no.

A sob escaped her and she swiped at her eyes. He had every right to be angry—but she wasn’t that young woman anymore. She hadn’t been since she lost their baby. She’d grown up in those awful hours after the accident that had fractured their marriage. She hadn’t needed him to take care of her. She’d just needed him to be there for her. And he hadn’t been able to understand the difference.

He hadn’t been wrong. She had quit. She’d run away because it was easier than facing everyone else’s pain when she could barely tolerate her own.

So no, he hadn’t been wrong.

But to hear it from him tore her up inside.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Darcy had managed to put the whole thing behind her. Mostly. Now she stood behind the cash register—an old one, nothing electric about it—and smiled at the young couple paying for the tree. They were probably a little older than she and Mack had been, but her heart tugged all the same. Had she ever been that young and in love?

She watched as the husband dropped a kiss on the woman’s temple. Oh, yes. She had been. But she’d been uneasy in her marriage and Mack had been so confident. This couple didn’t look unbalanced like that.

“This is our first tree together,” the woman said, beaming at her husband, who gave her an indulgent smile, then left to talk to Mack, who had the tree. Darcy forced her gaze to stick to the woman in front of her.

“Congratulations,” she said a little too cheerfully. “How long have you been married?”

“Eight months.” The woman pulled out a check and when she stooped to write it Darcy saw the rounding of her stomach. She saw herself at the same time, the same place and the world tilted. In spite of her best efforts, her gaze shot to Mack, who had his back to her. This is how we could have been, should have been.

“Are you all right?” The woman frowned, tore off the check and held it out. “You look awfully pale.”

Darcy forced a smile back on her face as she took the piece of paper. “Headaches. They come on fast.”

The other woman’s face cleared. “I’m sorry. Hope you feel better. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” Darcy echoed and watched as she walked to her husband, who slipped a protective arm around her and dropped another kiss on her head. She tilted her chin up to him, love shining on her face.

Longing and sorrow swamped her, hard and fast, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, willing it all away. She’d been so good at not feeling anything for these past few years, and now one happy couple had undone all that hard work.

“Darce.” Mack’s voice, laced with concern. How had he seen? Where had he come from? She looked up at him, but his face was suspiciously blurry. She blinked.

“I need some air,” she said. “Can you watch the register for me?”

Then she bolted.

* * *

Mack stood there, stunned as Darcy darted across the barn and into the back. Then he went after her, calling out to another employee to take the register. To hell with this not being his place. Something in her eyes tugged at him and he knew he was helpless to resist. Plus, he owed her after earlier, in the coffee shop.

When he came in the back room, Marla looked at him, then pointed at the door. “I’ll get the front.”

“Thanks,” he said, and went outside.

The cold air hit him with a blast, after the warmth of the back room. She stood by the tree line, her back to him. He saw the defensiveness of her posture, her arms wrapped around herself, her head down.

The fierce need to draw her in, rest his chin on her head, to just hold her, nearly overwhelmed him. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead as he came up beside her. “What’s going on? Did that woman upset you?”

Had she been thinking what he had? Seeing them as a young married couple? Wondering how their marriage had disintegrated so fast?

She went even stiffer than before, if that was possible. “Mack, why are you out here?”

“I don’t know.” It was God’s honest truth. He came around to the front of her, but she wouldn’t look up. “Darcy. Did she?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. She was very nice. Excited for their first Christmas together.” Her voice cracked slightly. She cleared her throat. “I’ve just got a headache.”

A headache. Right. And he’d just grown a third arm. “Okay. Can I get you anything?” Why had he thought she’d maybe confide? That maybe they’d seen the same thing and had the same regrets? Why would she tell him?

She lifted her gaze then, and the pain in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees. “There’s nothing you can do.”

If that was the truth, then what the hell? He cupped her chin in his hand, saw her eyes widen. “I saw it, too. I felt it, too. Lie to me, but not yourself.” His voice was rough in his throat. “Don’t think this is easy on me, Darce. It’s not.” Then because he couldn’t not, he bent forward and planted a soft kiss on her cold lips, lingering for a heartbeat, before he pulled away. Now there was surprise in her eyes, and that was better than pain. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, then turned to go back inside.

Because if he didn’t, he’d kiss her again. For real. And once they started down that path, there’d be no going back.

* * *

“You going to turn the water off, dear?” Amusement filled Marla’s voice as Darcy blinked, then yanked the handle down. Mack kissed me. That was a shock after the little scene in the coffee shop earlier. Marla hadn’t asked any questions, and that led Darcy to believe Marla thought something had happened with her and Mack.

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.