Читать книгу Marriage On The Cards: Marry Me, Mackenzie! / A Proposal Worth Millions / Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband? - Susan Carlisle - Страница 13

Chapter Six

“Here...” Hope slipped a blue-and-yellow rubber-band bracelet off her wrist and handed it to him. “I made this for you.”

“Hey...thanks.” Dylan slipped it over his hand onto his wrist. He held it out for Hope to see. “Does it look good on me?”

Hope nodded. “It’s a friendship bracelet.”

It took the child of the group to ease the tension, but it took the mom in the group to get things moving along.

“Come on...” Mackenzie squeezed Hope’s shoulder. “Let’s get back to work. Aggie would have a fit if she saw us all standing around getting nothing done.”

The three of them put their nervous energy into finishing Hope’s chore together. And it turned out that having a common goal to accomplish eased the tension between them. Of course, it wasn’t perfect and there were some odd lulls in conversation. And Dylan caught Hope in the act of studying him when she thought it was safe. Dylan understood her fascination, because he had to resist the urge to stare at his daughter. Mackenzie, on the other hand, made no bones about blatantly watching the two of them interact. But by the time all of the feed buckets were washed and drying in the sun, the tension between them had slowly given way to a more relaxed, fun vibe.

“What next?” Dylan unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. His shirt was soaked, his boots were already caked with mud, and it made him feel less out of place than when he had arrived.

“Now we have to put all the feed buckets back into the stalls.” Hope grabbed some buckets. “Carry as many as you can so we can get done quicker. Then, I get to ride Gypsy.”

“Her favorite horse,” Mackenzie explained.

Dylan grabbed as many buckets as his fingers could hold. “Lead the way, boss.”

His words made Hope laugh, spontaneously and loudly. She smiled at him again, this time without the nervousness. Hope’s smile, Dylan decided, was a million-dollar smile. It was addictive. He wanted to see it again and again.

“While you guys do this, I’m going to help Aggie in the office,” Mackenzie said. She looked at Hope specifically. “Is that okay?”

When Hope gave a small nod to her mom, Dylan felt as if he had managed to accomplish something pretty major: Hope felt comfortable enough with him to spend time alone. One by one, Hope introduced Dylan formally to the horses and it was obvious that Hope had a special connection with each and every one of them. The horses, some of whom pinned their ears back and gnashed their teeth at him, all came to Hope for some love and attention. It made him feel proud that, at such a young age, she had a special way with these horses. They weren’t pretty. They weren’t young. But she loved them just the same. In that, she took directly after kindhearted Mackenzie.

“This is Cinnamon.” Hope rubbed her hand lovingly over the mare’s face. “She’s a sweet girl. Aren’t you, Cinnamon? When you work with her, make sure you only approach her from her left side, because she’s missing her right eye. See?”

Dylan nodded. There was a deep indent where the mare’s eye should have been.

“If you walk up to her on her right side, she might get spooked and accidentally knock you over. But she wouldn’t mean to hurt you.”

After putting the feed bucket in her stall, Hope kissed Cinnamon affectionately on the nose.

“I’ve saved the best for last,” Hope said excitedly. “This...is Gypsy.”

The word Gypsy was said with flair, as if Hope were introducing the most amazing horse in the history of the equine. Dylan read the large plaque on Gypsy’s stall: Warning! This horse will bite! Dylan then took a step back from the gate. Hope wrapped her arms around the mare’s neck and hugged.

“What’s with the sign?” Dylan asked.

“Oh,” Hope said nonchalantly. “She’s just looking for food, is all. That’s why Aggie won’t let us carry treats in our pockets. And we can only give them treats in their buckets, never by hand.

“Isn’t she great?” Hope rubbed the space between Gypsy’s sad brown eyes.

Gypsy was a spindly-legged barrel-bellied mare with giant, fuzzy donkey ears, a dull brown coat and an unusually long, bony face. Even in the best of times, Dylan knew that Gypsy had never been a prize.

Wanting to be diplomatic on his first day hanging out with his daughter, Dylan said the only noncommittal thing he could say, “If you like her then I like her.”

“I knew you’d like her, too.” Hope nodded happily.

In between stuffing envelopes for the upcoming fundraiser, Mackenzie periodically checked on Hope and Dylan by poking her head around the corner. She didn’t feel good about spying, but she had to check on Hope. And she was glad she did. If she hadn’t spied on them, she would have missed a hallmark moment: the expression on her daughter’s face when she introduced Dylan to Gypsy. Hope was beaming at him. She knew all of her daughter’s many expressions by heart. That one? It was only reserved for those that Hope really liked. For Mackenzie, bearing witness to this moment confirmed for her that bringing Dylan into Hope’s life was the right thing to do. It didn’t nullify her fears for what a future with Dylan in it would mean for her, but for Hope? Her trepidation was erased just like words being wiped away on a whiteboard.

“Done!” Hope attached Gypsy’s clean feed bucket to the hook in the stall and then exited the stall.

“Nice work.” Dylan held up his hand.

Hope high-fived him. “Do you want to help me get Gypsy’s tack?”

“Of course I do. I cleared my entire Sunday just for you.”

“You did?”

Dylan nodded. He’d managed to win another smile from Hope. He was on a winning streak and felt like hugging her. But he didn’t.

“That’s cool,” Hope said.

Hope grabbed the bridle, girth and saddle pad, while Dylan hoisted the heavy Western saddle onto his hip. With two of them working, they made quick work of grooming Gypsy before tacking her up. By the end of it, Dylan felt proud of the fact that he’d managed to get the job done without being on the losing end of Gypsy’s teeth.

“You can ride, too, you know,” his daughter said as she walked Gypsy down the breezeway.

“That’s okay...I’d rather watch you,” he said. He hadn’t been on a horse since high school.

Mackenzie heard her daughter’s voice in the breezeway and she met them at the barn entrance. There was a moment when she had a front-row seat to Hope and Dylan walking together, side by side, as if they had known each other all their lives. They had the same swing in their walk, these two. The same way of holding their shoulders, the same easygoing, couldn’t-possibly-ignore-it kind of smile.

“Hey, Mom!” Hope greeted Mackenzie enthusiastically. “I was just telling Dylan all about the riding school I want to open up after college.”

“I didn’t even know they made ten-year-olds like this.” Dylan smiled at them.

“Sometimes I don’t believe that she’s ten.” Mackenzie handed Hope a bottle of water. “Hydration, sunscreen and helmet, please.”

Mackenzie raised her eyebrows at Dylan over Hope’s head. Dylan smiled at her and gave her the “okay” symbol.

“Sunscreen.” Mackenzie exchanged the water bottle for the sunscreen bottle.

Hope put sunscreen on her arms and her face. She handed the sunscreen bottle back to Mackenzie along with Gypsy’s reins.

“I’ll be right back.” Hope jogged over to the tack room to grab a helmet.

“How’s it going?” Mackenzie asked quietly.

“Good,” Dylan said. “Really good...”

“I was hoping that the two of you would...you know...figure each other out if I gave you some space.”

“I think we did okay,” Dylan said. “She’s an incredible kid, Mackenzie. I mean...my God. So smart.”

“Straight As,” Mackenzie said with pride. “Even when she was at her worst with the chemo.”

“I like her.” Dylan’s thoughts became words.

Mackenzie wasn’t a crier. But when Dylan quietly said that he liked Hope, she felt like weeping with relief.

“Well...” Mackenzie turned her head away from him until she could put a halt to the waterworks. “I can tell that she’s already crazy about you.”

“Yeah? Do you think so?” Dylan was temporarily distracted by how the sunlight was reflecting on Mackenzie’s face. It looked dewy and flushed and pretty. Her lips, lips that he’d never really noticed before, were naturally pink and plump. Kissable lips.

“I do.” Mackenzie nodded. “I do.”

Mackenzie liked how disheveled Dylan looked now. Gone was the catalog model posed in a barn. Part of his shirt was untucked, his jeans were dirty and the once-pristine boots were caked with mud and manure. He was sweaty and grimy and she liked him like that.

Irritated with her own musings about Dylan’s masculine appeal, she decided to razz him the way she did when they were kids. “I bet your manicurist is going to have a heck of a time cleaning your nails.”

Dylan checked his nails. “Yeah...you’re probably right.”

“I was just kidding! Don’t tell me you really do have a manicurist, Dylan!”

“In my line of business, being well groomed is a matter of survival.”

“Oh, dear Lord...” Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve actually seen the day when Dylan Axel willingly submitted to a manicure. What happened to the guy who used to love to have grease up to his elbows?”

“Hey...there’s nothing wrong with a guy taking care of himself. In fact...ow!” Dylan swung his head around quick. “She bit me!”

“What?”

Dylan glared at the mare accusingly. “You bit me!”

“Where’d she get you?” Mackenzie looked him over. “I don’t see any teeth marks.”

“That’s because she didn’t bite me on the arm.” Dylan scowled at the mare. “Did you, you glue factory reject?”

Hope interrupted their conversation when she returned with a helmet. “What happened?”

“Nothing worth talking about. Here, kiddo.” Mackenzie handed Hope the reins. “Why don’t you get started and we’ll be right behind you, okay.”

“Okay. Come on, Gyps!” Hope led Gypsy to the riding arena.

When Hope was out of earshot, Mackenzie said, “She bit you on the butt, didn’t she?”

“Let’s put it this way...” Dylan said sourly. “It’s going to be a long painful drive back to the city.”

“Wait here.” Mackenzie tried very hard to stifle her smile but failed. “I’ll be right back”

Mackenzie returned with Aggie in tow.

“All right.” Aggie held a first-aid kit in her hand. “Where’d she getcha? I swear that mare gets meaner every year...”

Mackenzie blurted out, “She bit him in the butt.”

“Once a tattletale...” Dylan muttered.

“I’m not a bit surprised,” Aggie said. “That’s one of her favorite spots... She’s gotten me on the fleshy part a couple of times. Do you want me to take a look? See if she broke the skin?”

“No, thank you!” Dylan stepped back.

“Oh, come on, Dylan...” Mackenzie teased him. “Don’t be such a baby. Let Aggie take a look.”

“Thank you,” Dylan said to Aggie, then to Mackenzie, “But no.”

“Suit yourself. But I suggest you grow eyeballs in the back of your head so you can see for yourself if she broke the skin.” Aggie handed him the first-aid kit and headed back to the office. “And remember...you volunteered at your own risk.”

“Which way to the bathroom?” Dylan asked Mackenzie.

“This way.” Mackenzie smirked.

“I suppose you think this is funny...?”

“Not at all.”

“Liar!” Dylan smiled at her. “What happened to the girl who used to have a little integrity, huh?”

“Here’s the bathroom.” Mackenzie pointed. “Light switch on the left.”

Dylan went into the bathroom and examined his backside by turning his back to the mirror and straining his neck to look over his shoulder.

“Damn if she didn’t break the skin.” Dylan ripped open a packet containing an alcohol wipe. He dabbed the wound and then closed his eyes when the alcohol hit it. “And that smarts...”

“How’s it going in there?” Mackenzie called through the door.

“She got me good.” Dylan tossed the used wipe into the trash.

“Make sure you put some ointment on it and a Band-Aid.”

“I’m not a contortionist, Mackenzie.” Dylan pulled up his underwear carefully.

After a pause, Mackenzie asked, “Do you want me to do it?”

“It’s fine.”

“If you don’t put something on it, won’t it hurt worse when you drive home?”

“I’ll manage.” Dylan pulled up his jeans.

Mackenzie knocked on the door. “Why don’t you let me help you?”

Not waiting for his response, Mackenzie turned the doorknob. “I’m coming in.”

Dylan tried to lock the door but the lock failed.

“That lock’s been broken for about a year now.” Mackenzie leaned her hand against the doorjamb. “Will you stop pretending to be a prude and let me help you?”

“Really? You just open the door and waltz right in? What if I had been in the middle of something?”

“I could see your boots near the sink, okay? Now, quit whining and turn around.”

“Mackenzie...” Dylan said. “The bite is on my ass.”

“So? Do you think that I haven’t seen your butt before? Give me a break! You and my brother and all of your stupid friends mooned everyone in the neighborhood! Remember?”

“Oh, yeah...I forgot about that.”

“What did you idiots used to call yourselves again?”

“The Moonshine Gang.”

“I’m sorry...” Mackenzie cupped her ear. “I didn’t quite catch that?”

“The Moonshine Gang,” Dylan said loudly.

“Thank you. I rest my case. Now, turn around, drop trou, then hand me the ointment. Please.”

Grudgingly, Dylan turned around and dropped his jeans just enough to expose the wound.

“She got you, all right.” Mackenzie squeezed some ointment onto the wound. “Hand me one of the big, square Band-Aids, will you?”

Mackenzie ripped open the package with her teeth.

“What’s going on back there?” Dylan asked impatiently.

“I’m baking a cake...what do you think’s going on?” Mackenzie pulled the Band-Aid out of the packet and tossed the empty wrapper into the trash.

“Voilà!” Mackenzie quickly applied the Band-Aid. “Done!”

Mackenzie left the bathroom while Dylan straightened his clothes.

“You’re welcome,” Mackenzie said when he joined her.

“You should be apologizing to me for barging into the bathroom like that,” Dylan countered with feigned indignation.

“You should be apologizing for having a manicurist!” Mackenzie retorted.

Dylan stuck out his hand. “Call it even?”

“Fine. Even.” Mackenzie shook Dylan’s hand. “Come on...let’s go watch Hope ride.”

They walked out to the riding arena and both of them leaned up against the fence. Dylan watched Hope canter Gypsy. “She’s got a great seat for riding.”

“She definitely doesn’t get that from me. I’ve always been a little afraid of horses.”

“No. That she gets from me.”

Mackenzie glanced at Dylan. They had known each other in another lifetime, when they were just kids. But there was something comfortable in their silences when it was just the two of them. That something was familiar, unrehearsed, effortless and impossible to fake. There was a shared history; they came from the same neighborhood. There was a common thread of values that transcended the years they had spent apart.

When Dylan spoke, it was in a lowered voice and for her ears only. “I know you told me that Hope has leukemia. But it doesn’t seem possible. Just look at her. She’s...perfect. She acts like a typical kid.”

“She’s been in remission for two years, so she’s gained weight. And even though it’s different and that bothers her, her hair finally grew back. But we aren’t out of the woods yet. When she was diagnosed, she was put in the high-risk category, which means she has a greater risk of the cancer coming back.”

“You know, when you told me about Hope, about her diagnosis, I’ve really tried to educate myself about her type of leukemia.”

“ALL...”

“Right...” Dylan nodded. “But I still don’t know what any of it means for Hope.”

“What do you mean?”

Dylan turned his body toward her. “Is she going to be okay or not?”

Mackenzie looked at her daughter, so happy to be riding Gypsy again. “I don’t know, Dylan. There’s no guarantee. Her prognosis is good, but until we hit the three-year mark without a relapse, I’m not going to feel like we’re out of the woods yet. She takes daily doses of medication, she goes in for regular testing and she still takes chemo. And let me tell you, when she does have chemo, she’s not the same kid. She can’t get out bed, she’s sick to her stomach, I can hardly get her to eat.” Mackenzie watched her daughter. “That’s why she pushes herself so hard in between...”

“Because she knows what she’s in for...”

“Exactly.” Mackenzie smiled and waved at Hope, who cantered in a circle directly in front of them.

“She never mentioned it to me.” Dylan rested his foot on the bottom of the fence. “I sort of thought she would.”

“She doesn’t like to talk about it much anymore, and I try to respect that. All she wants is to be a normal kid. Who can blame her? No kid should have to go through this...”

Dylan wasn’t certain what had changed inside him. But something had. A switch had been flipped, an indelible mark had been made, and there wasn’t any going back. When he had awakened this morning, he hadn’t been a father...and perhaps he really wasn’t still. But he wanted to be. He saw it now just as plainly as if it had been written across the cloudless blue sky...he had a chance to do better for Hope. He had a choice...he could reject the legacy left to him by his biological father and embrace the lessons he had learned from Uncle Bill. And it took Hope, sweet, honest, tenderhearted Hope, to make him see the light. Hope slowed Gypsy to a jog and then an animated walk. Gypsy’s neck was drenched with sweat, her mouth dripping foam from engaging with the bit.

Cheeks flushed red, eyes bright with joy, Hope patted Gypsy enthusiastically on the neck. “Good girl, Gypsy! I’m going to take her for a walk to cool her down before I rinse her off.” Hope dropped her feet out of the stirrups and let them dangle loose.

“I’ll grab the gate for you,” Mackenzie said.

Hope guided Gypsy through the arena gate and headed to an open field; Mackenzie and Dylan walked slowly back toward the barn.

“Have you told Jordan yet that I’m Hope’s father?” Dylan asked in a low, private voice.

“No.” She had led her family to believe that her college boyfriend was Hope’s father. Only her father and brother knew the truth. It was hard to come clean on a lie, especially one as big as this one.

“I haven’t told Ian yet, either.” Dylan slipped his sunglasses back on. “I’ll call him and see if we can get together with them tonight. We may as well tell them together.”