Sophie Pembroke – Marriage On The Cards: Marry Me, Mackenzie! / A Proposal Worth Millions / Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband? (страница 14)

“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.