A Husband for the Holidays (Made For Matrimony 1) (13 page)

She could step right in and Darcy could—what? Leave? And do what? Ross wouldn’t give Mally Darcy’s job, of course. Not right away. But Ross would move on, fill her position.

Darcy put the thoughts aside. No point in going there when it wasn’t going to happen. She’d worked long and hard to get where she was and she wasn’t going to throw it all over for—what? Definitely not for something she couldn’t even define. That was reckless. And stupid. And so very un-Darcylike.

“Darcy. How are you?”

She looked up at the friendly voice to see Cheryl. “Hi, Cheryl.” She pulled her papers and laptop over so the other woman could sit if she wanted to.

Cheryl hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you’re working.”

Darcy closed the laptop and gestured for her to sit down. “I’m completely sure. I could use a break anyway. I’m sorry we haven’t been able to get together yet. How are you?”

Cheryl smiled. “Good. Busy. Decided to treat myself to a latte today since we got word that we’re being considered as adoptive parents for a teenage mother’s baby.”

Darcy’s heart stuttered. “Wow, Cheryl, that’s wonderful. When will you know?”

“Soon. She’s about seven months along. She’s a good girl, got in a tough situation and wants to give her baby the best life she can. It’s not a done deal, but I hope...” She trailed off and took a sip of the latte.

Darcy reached over and touched her hand. “I hope so, too, Cheryl.”

“There’s something I’ve been wondering,” Cheryl said quietly, her hands closed around her cup. She leveled her gaze at Darcy. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye? And why did you cut off all contact with me?”

Darcy sucked in a breath. There was pain in her old friend’s voice, but no censure. She slid her laptop in her bag to give herself a second to regroup. Then she folded her arms on the table and looked right at Cheryl. “I’m not really sure. It hurt too much to be here, and everything was a reminder of what—of what I’d lost. I was just trying to move forward and I know I did a bad job of it.” She’d rejected Cheryl’s support, everyone’s support. How stupid she’d been. “I was just so lost, I guess. In the grief. I’m so sorry I cut you off.”

Cheryl nodded. “I figured that was what happened, but I needed to hear it for sure. I would have been there. I wanted to be there, Darce. A lot of people did.”

So she was learning. All the bitterness she’d carried like a shield was withering away. She’d erected the shield as a defense to keep herself in, not to protect herself from people who cared. But that was exactly what had ended up happening.

“I wish you’d let me in,” Cheryl said quietly now. “And I wish I’d tried harder to reach you. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t try as hard as I could have.”

Darcy’s head came up sharply. “What? No, Cheryl, that’s not what happened. You were there. That’s all you needed to do, was to
be there
. And you were. I was the one who didn’t know how to handle it. Or how to let anyone help me handle it. I just wanted it all to go away.”

Cheryl cocked her head. “Did it?”

“No,” Darcy admitted now. “Not really. I got good at kind of locking it away. Until I came back here.”

A small smile ghosted across Cheryl’s mouth. “I bet. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“Olivia’s middle name is Darcy.”

Darcy’s breath jammed in her throat. Cheryl couldn’t have surprised her more if she’d hit Darcy with a hammer. “You—really? Oh,” she said, and the word kind of fell from her lips. “Cheryl—”

“Yes, really.” Cheryl’s smile was looking decidedly damp around the edges, which was okay because Darcy knew hers was, too. “I just wanted you to know.”

The lump in Darcy’s throat was almost too big to breathe around. She reached for Cheryl’s hand and held on tight, a connection she wished she’d accepted when it was offered all those years ago. “Thank you, Cheryl.”

Chapter Thirteen

M
ack showed up late at the tree farm. He looked a little ragged, and despite her best intentions to stay away, she went up to him. He gave her a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Concerned, she touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Yeah. No. Rough day.”

Which told her nothing, since she could already see that. “We can get by without you tonight if you need to go home, Mack. Don’t feel you need to stay.”

He dropped his hand. “Thanks, but I need to stay.”

Since he wasn’t going to confide in her—why would he?—she nodded. “Your call. Let me know if you change your mind, though.”

He said nothing as she walked away. Then—

“Darcy.”

She stopped and turned. “Yes?”

He drew in a shaky breath. “It was an abuse case. Worst one I’ve seen yet. Dog beaten within an inch of his life and left out to die in the cold. He was frozen to the ground. I don’t know if he’ll survive, or if he’ll ever be able to go to a new home.” His voice was low, and the pain in his words fell heavily on her heart. Horror and anger fired there, too, that someone would treat an animal that way. Any living being.

She walked back toward him. “Oh, Mack. Do they know who did it?”

He shook his head. “No. Not yet. I hope they find the son of a bitch. Because it’s more than the dog, Darce. What if this guy’s doing this to his family? There’s something wrong with a person who can hurt an animal this way.”

She gave up and wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his chest. His jacket was cold under her cheek. He wrapped his around her, too, and they stood there, by the side of his truck, Darcy feeling his warm breath on her hair. This was what they should have had. This was one of those moments that was out of time, from a life she didn’t live but could have.

“He’s got you,” she said finally as she stepped back and looked up to meet his eyes. “And we’ll hope the person who did this gets found soon.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I see a lot in my job. A lot of broken animals, sick ones, too. But almost never something like this. I don’t know how he survived as long as he did. I really don’t. So I’ll cut out early tonight, if it looks like things are under control, to go check on him. Jennifer’s with him now.”

“It’s a Wednesday,” Darcy said. “Our slowest day. It’ll be fine, whenever you’re ready to head out.”

They walked to the barn in silence and he gave her hand a quick squeeze before heading the opposite way. Warmth fizzled through her, a little burst of surprise and happiness. He’d never touched her like that in public. She didn’t know if anyone had seen.

She kept an eye on him through the evening, and he did leave early. That night, after she’d closed everything down and chatted with her aunt and uncle, she went up to her room and called Mack to check on the dog. She felt a little bit like a teenager as she lay flopped on her back across the bed, knees up. She almost wished for the days when there was a long phone cord to wrap around her finger.

“Hello?”

His voice was just as sexy over the phone as it was in person. Despite the reason for her call, her lady parts gave a little shimmy. She cleared her throat. “Hi. It’s Darcy.”

He gave what sounded like a pained chuckle. “I know. Everything okay out there?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to see how the dog is. If he’s—well, if he’s okay.”

Mack sighed. “He’s not okay, but he’s holding. At this point, that’s about all I can expect. Still touch-and-go. If he makes it through the night, his chances will be better.”

“Poor guy,” she said quietly.

“Yeah. I’m going to check him every hour until five, then I’ll go home and catch a few hours of sleep while Jenn checks him.”

“So you’re staying at the clinic?” She knew Jennifer lived above the clinic. Maybe he stayed with her. And it was completely none of her business. Still, an odd twist slipped through her chest.

There was a rustling, as though he was moving around. “Yeah. I keep a cot here. I’ll sleep in my office. Grabbed a pillow and blanket from home. I don’t have to do it too often.”

“That’s good,” she said.

There was a pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They were just quiet. Together.

“Darcy?”

“Yeah?” Why was she whispering?

“Thanks for calling.”

“You’re welcome.”

She disconnected the call and stared up at the dark ceiling, feeling all kinds of fluttery and weird. Truth was, she could have waited until tomorrow to find out about the dog. She’d been concerned, yes, and saddened. But she’d wanted to check on Mack, too, and this had been a convenient excuse.

She rolled over and put the phone on the bedside table. She already missed his voice. Missed him. How sad was that?

* * *

“Two weeks until Christmas Eve,” Joe announced at breakfast. “This upcoming Saturday will be almost as busy as the day after Thanksgiving. I’m going to meet with you and Mack to discuss a game plan.”

Darcy spooned up more oatmeal. She had no idea what her aunt put in it, but it was good. It didn’t matter if she didn’t need the meeting. Uncle Joe did. “When?”

“Tonight. He’ll come to the house when he gets here. We’ll have it here, in the kitchen.”

“I’ll have pie,” Marla broke in with a smile.

“Sounds good.” If it hadn’t been the last season, it would have been a different sort of meeting. Darcy wanted to ask why they’d never branched out into more sales, why they hadn’t expanded the tours, why more promotion hadn’t been done. Yes, some of that cost money, but they’d have earned it all back and then some. But she wasn’t going to ask now. It was too late.

The farm had two weeks left. Then, after the new year, it’d be turned over to Mack and his brother to bulldoze. Appetite gone, she slid her chair back to carry her bowl to the sink. For all Mack still tugged at her heart, he was taking away the one thing that had always been a constant in her life. She needed to remember that.

* * *

“I’m so sad this place is closing,” one woman said to Darcy later that evening after the meeting with Uncle Joe. “I’ve come out here since I was a little girl. Now I bring my kids. We look forward to it every year.” The kids in question looked to be around five and nine, and happily sucking on the mini–candy canes Darcy had given them from her stash by the register.

“Me, too. We all are. But my aunt and uncle are going to retire. A tree farm is a lot of work.” She’d said the same thing many times over the past couple weeks. But now she added, “It’s been a wonderful experience, being a part of all these Christmases for all of these years.”

The woman handed over the cash for the tree. “So much better than grabbing a tree at a big box store,” she agreed. “I wish your aunt and uncle all the best in their retirement. Maybe they’ll get lucky and find someone to take it over.”

Darcy couldn’t bring herself to say it’d been sold and would be parceled off into home lots. “Maybe,” she said noncommittally, and smiled as she gave the woman her change.

As she watched them go, Wendy came up to her. “I heard her. Tough, isn’t it?”

Darcy sighed. “She’s not the only one. I’ve heard some variation of that several times each week. Some people aren’t invested, you know? They’ll just get a tree and move on. For others, it’s a tradition. I never realized or appreciated how much that matters.”

How shameful was that? She’d grown up in a business that catered to people’s traditions and she’d still missed the point. Until now.

When it was too late.

Wendy nodded. “It is hard. I’ve made the same wreaths for a decade for the same people. I know who likes a little more spruce, and who to give the most juniper berries to. Who likes a bigger bow, who prefers flatter. I love to see their faces light up when they come pick them up. It’s all part of the package of tradition. I’ll miss it.” She held out her hands and gave a little laugh. “I won’t miss being stabbed fifty times a day by needles, though. Or getting pitch on my clothes.”

Darcy smiled and shook her head ruefully. “No. I guess not.”

Wendy went outside to check the wreaths and grave blankets—Darcy had sold a few—and it was quiet for a moment in the barn.

Until Mack walked in.

She’d asked him earlier about the dog, whom he’d named Fraser. He’d made it through the night. Mack was cautiously optimistic he’d pull through physically. Emotionally, he couldn’t say.

She gave him a little smile. “Hey. Staying warm?”

He walked over and snitched a candy cane from her bowl. “Yep.”

She frowned at him and teased, “Hey. Those are for paying customers only.”

He arched an eyebrow and the look in his eyes went hot. Oh, my. An answering heat tugged low in her belly. “What’s your price?”

Her mind went unhelpfully blank. “Um, well.”

“How about I suggest one?” He moved behind the register and the plastic wrapper of the candy cane crinkled loudly as he put his hands on her shoulders. She licked her lips and could say nothing as he lowered his mouth to hers. “This okay?” he whispered, so close but still too far. In response, she pressed her mouth to his.

“Oops,” Wendy’s voice, and laughter, carried through the little cocoon that had woven around them. “Sorry to interrupt you kids.”

He made a hungry sound in his throat and she pulled away, breathing hard, feeling her face flame. He pressed his lips to her forehead and gave a little chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, not seeing anything humorous in the way her body revved and ached for his. For him. Plus, Wendy had caught them, even if she had stepped back out of the room.

“I don’t know.” He released her and stepped back. “We’re just like a couple of teenagers sometimes.”

She closed her eyes. “We’re at work. This is a family place. When you and I kiss...” She trailed off.

There was a predatory light in his eyes now. “When you and I kiss, what?” he prompted.

She lifted her chin. “It gets out of control, okay? And this isn’t the place for that.” There. She’d said it.

He caught her chin. “You’re right. It’s not. Come to my place after we’re done here.”

He was completely serious. A thrill shivered down her spine. “I don’t know.”

He leaned down and gave her another quick kiss, and filched another candy cane. “The offer stands,” he said, and sauntered out as another family made their way in. He sent her a wink over their heads and Darcy wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or scream.

Or risk going over to his place. She knew exactly what was being offered there. But she wasn’t sure she could spend the time with him and walk away whole when it was time for her to go.

* * *

Darcy went home afterward, gave her report to her uncle and headed upstairs to shower. As she stood under the steaming water, she wrestled with herself over Mack’s invitation. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go. She did. It was that she was afraid she was getting in too deep already.

Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore. It was going to hurt when she left either way. This time, though, she could control it. And maybe minimize the regrets.

She turned off the water and toweled off quickly. In the steamy mirror she couldn’t see the jagged scar on her abdomen, but she was aware it was there. Mack hadn’t been put off by it. In her two sexual encounters in the seven years since her marriage ended, the room had been dark and it had been only one time. Each.

She dressed and dried her hair, combing it into place and securing it with a clip. A little mascara and she was good to go. She took a deep breath. From the time, she knew Uncle Joe and Aunt Marla would have retired to their room. She tossed a few necessities into a small bag she pulled from the closet and headed out before she lost her nerve.

Except Marla was in the kitchen.

Darcy froze, feeling for all the world like a teenager caught sneaking out when Marla’s gaze fell to the bag, then up to Darcy’s face. She surprised Darcy by laughing.

“Don’t look so guilty, honey. No one here is surprised to see this rekindle with you and Mack.” Then she sobered. “Is it serious, Darcy?”

Darcy sank down in the chair across from her and let her bag slide to the floor at her feet. “I don’t know, Aunt Marla. There are so many reasons why it can’t be, and yet...” She left the words unsaid.

“And yet it is anyway,” Marla finished softly. Darcy could only nod. “Tell me again why you are fighting this?”

“You mean other than the fact that my life is in Chicago?” Was that her only reason?

Marla nodded. “Where’s your heart?” She held up a hand before Darcy could speak, not that she had any answer for that question. “You don’t have to tell
me
. You have to be honest with yourself. Go to him. Take some of that pie. And don’t come home until morning.”

Darcy was pretty sure her face was as red as the flaming red teakettle on the stove. “Yes, ma’am.”

Marla drew her in for a hug when they both stood up. “We just want you happy, honey. That’s all.”

* * *

Mack had half expected Darcy not to show up. As it got later, and he looked at the damn clock every two minutes, he tried to convince himself he didn’t care.

It wasn’t true.

He’d checked on Fraser, who looked to be out of immediate danger but not out of the woods by a long shot. Jenn would check on him a couple more times before morning.

Another look at the clock. The cat sat on the back of the couch and cracked one eye halfway open when Mack leaned forward to check the time on his phone. Again. In case it was different than the time on the wall clock.

It wasn’t.

He sat back with a
thump
, which finally dislodged the cat, who stomped over his lap on her way to the floor, where she sauntered off with a baleful flick of her tail.

This was stupid. He stared at the game on TV, not even caring what the score was, and usually he was glued to his alma mater’s basketball games.

It didn’t mean anything if she didn’t come. It meant she didn’t come and that was that. He was a big boy and could handle it. He knew she was wavering on the edge and so was he. Just because things had been good in the past didn’t mean they’d be good now and all that. After all, they’d never dealt with the things in the past.