Ami Weaver – A Husband For The Holidays (страница 3)
Marla nodded. “We’ve focused on the trees, not that fence out by the road. We couldn’t do it all, although—” She stopped, and Darcy could have sworn guilt crossed her aunt’s face.
“Although what?”
Her aunt gave her head a quick shake. “Nothing. We’ve done what we can. Now it’s time to turn it over to someone else.” She nodded at Darcy’s bags. “Why not take those up to your room, honey? It’s all fresh for you. We’ll eat shortly. I hope you’re hungry.”
Her stomach chose that moment to unleash a rolling growl. Her aunt cocked an eyebrow. Darcy gave a little laugh. “Guess that’s your answer.” She’d been too much of a wreck about coming back to Holden’s Crossing to do much more than nibble on a protein bar in the car.
“Good thing, too. We’ve got a lot of food and I don’t want your uncle to eat it all. Here, let me help you.” Marla picked up one of her bags and Darcy grabbed the last two.
As she followed her aunt to the stairs, she noted the decor hadn’t changed much, either. Clean, same plaid couch from when she’d left, same curtains. A large blue spruce stood in front of the big window, lit with hundreds of lights and covered in ornaments. A fire crackled on the hearth, which made the whole place seem homey and cozy.
Sadness gave a little twist under her heart. She’d miss this house when they sold it.
Marla set the small duffel on the bed. “I know it was hard for you to come. I just want you to know how much we appreciate it. And I wish—I wish you hadn’t thought you couldn’t come home.”
Caught, Darcy sank down on the bed. “You know why I couldn’t.”
Marla held her gaze and Darcy saw understanding and compassion there. “I know why you thought you couldn’t. There’s a difference.”
Darcy dropped her gaze to the quilt and ran her hand over it, the slightly puckered fabric cool under her hand. Leaving gave both of them a chance to start over after the divorce. “Not to me.”
“I know that, too. Your dad would be proud of you for coming back. So.” She headed for the door. “Come down when you’re done. Dinner’ll be ready soon. Then we’ve got work to do.”
Darcy stayed on the bed, hearing the stairs creak as her aunt went downstairs. She took a deep, shaky breath.
The memories weren’t going to go away. In fact, being here pretty much ensured she’d be assaulted by them at every turn. So she’d deal.
Determined, she stood up and unzipped the nearest bag. She wasn’t that naive young woman anymore. She’d been to hell and back. She’d lost her baby and her marriage. There was nothing the Lawless family could dish out she couldn’t take.
But she did need to make things right. So she’d apologize to Mack, make him see her intention had never been to cause him any more pain. Maybe then she could forgive herself.
Maybe.
* * *
Two hours later, at the kitchen table, her stomach full of Marla’s excellent roast, she smiled at her aunt and uncle. “Thank you. That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.” And tomorrow was Thanksgiving. Two excellent home-cooked meals in a row. Amazing.
They exchanged glances, and then her uncle spoke, his face serious. “Darcy, there’s something we need to tell you.”
Worry rose so fast she thought she’d choke. “Are you okay, Uncle Joe?”
He patted her arm. “Yes. Oh, yes, Darce, it’s not me. It’s—well, it’s just that Mack has been working here.”
That couldn’t be right. She clearly had her ex on the brain, because she thought she’d heard her uncle say he was working here. At the farm. Which wasn’t possible. Why would Mack be out here? He was a vet. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
He met her gaze. “Mack’s been helping me.”
The air whooshed out of her lungs. She hadn’t misheard.
Marla laid her hand on Darcy’s arm. “He’s young and strong. He’s been out here for years helping. I know this must be upsetting for you.”
She looked away, betrayal humming in her veins.
Her aunt made a distressed little noise. “Oh, Darcy.”
Joe cleared his throat. “One more thing. He’s on his way here.”
Her gaze snapped to his, panic coiling in her belly. “What?”
Marla looked at her with concern. “He’s been out here every night for the past couple of weeks. I know this is a shock—”
“You couldn’t have given me a little more warning?” Oh dear, was that a squeak of hysteria in her voice?
“We didn’t want to upset you,” Marla said simply. “We thought it would be best not to tell you. We talked about it at length, trying to decide how to handle it. Things were so hard for you after the divorce.”
She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her quickly frazzling nerves. Or course they meant well; she didn’t doubt that. They were only trying to protect her. Mack, at least, wouldn’t be blindsided. Chase would have taken care of that before Darcy got back in her car at the gas station.
“When will he be here?” Amazing, her voice sounded almost calm. Thank God.
Joe glanced at the wall clock. “He’s usually here by six thirty. Please understand, Darcy. I know we should have said something before now, but...” He trailed off and looked helplessly at his wife.
She jumped in seamlessly. “But we weren’t sure how you’d react. It was hard enough for you to come back as it is. I’m sorry.”
Darcy managed a laugh. “I’ve been over Mack Lawless for years now. If he helps you out, that’s great. I’ve got no problem with it at all.”
That wasn’t entirely true. But she chose to believe it was because they hadn’t told her.
It had nothing to do with maybe not being over him.
“Well,” Marla said as she stood up and began to stack dishes. “I’m going to take care of these and then I’ll join you in the barn. Darcy, if you’d rather not go out there tonight, we’d understand.”
“No. I’ll be fine.” She hoped like crazy it was true. She couldn’t let her aunt and uncle know how rattled she was.
Marla wouldn’t hear of Darcy helping her clean up, which was probably a good thing, as her hands hadn’t stopped shaking since they’d told her about Mack, so she got into her down jacket and boots and followed her uncle down the snowy path to the barn. Any other time, she would have found the quiet and the falling snow peaceful. Right now, she found herself too keyed up to enjoy it.
“Finances are a little tight around here, as I’m sure you noticed when you drove up,” her uncle said finally. “Mack offered to help out. He won’t accept any pay. Likes the work, he says.”
Her heart tugged. That sounded like the Mack she’d known and loved.
“It’s okay, Uncle Joe.”
He took her hand for the rest of the brief walk and she was grateful for the simple touch. In the workshop, he introduced her to his employees, then said, “We’ll be in and out. You remember how to make a wreath?”
In spite of her nerves, she smiled. “I can do it in my sleep, Uncle Joe.”
He gave her a quick hug. “Stay strong, honey.” He headed outside with his crew and left her alone.
She took a moment to inhale the sharp scent of pine. Some things never changed, and this room was one of them, thankfully. Long scarred tables, open shelves with wire, twine, cutters, pinecones and different colors and styles of ribbon along with boxes of assorted decorations. She admired a finished wreath. It was beautiful—spruce and juniper, with berries, pinecones and a big gold ribbon.
Forcing herself not to watch the clock and failing—just how much longer till six thirty anyway?—she kept busy by gathering supplies for and starting a wreath. Her aunt walked in five minutes before Mack was due to arrive.
“I thought maybe it’d be best if I were here,” she said, and Darcy gave her a tremulous smile. “I see you haven’t lost your bow-tying skills.”
Her aunt kept up a steady chatter, not seeming to expect Darcy to reply, which was good because she had one ear tuned for an approaching engine. When she finally heard it, she took a deep breath.
Marla gave her a sympathetic look. “Relax, honey. It’ll be okay.”
But Darcy barely heard her as the barn door rolled open and Mack’s familiar, long-legged form stepped through. Her breath caught.
He hadn’t changed. If anything, he’d gotten even better looking, even in old jeans, boots and a down vest, with a Michigan State ball cap. His brown hair was a little longer, curling slightly at the nape of his neck. He’d always hated the curl, worn it short. Somehow the new style was a sign of how much she’d missed.
His gaze landed on her and he gave her a cool nod. “Darcy. Nice to see you.”
It’d been seven years since she heard her name on his lips in that delicious deep voice of his. Longer still since he’d said it with affection, love or passion. Pain and regret hit her like a tidal wave. She’d botched things so badly. She swallowed hard. “Mack.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.