The idea of Ian being putty in my hands when to everyone else he’s a pigheaded jerk has enough appeal that I’m starting to think about his Wranglers again and seeing them in a pile on the floor. It’s that bad-boy syndrome thing again. Argh, I totally hate my hormones sometimes.
“What was that like when Ginny made a move on you?” The question just pops out of my mouth without any warning, but now that it’s out there, I’m curious enough to hear the answer that I don’t correct myself and withdraw the question.
“Awful. Terrible.” Mack’s hands squeeze the steering wheel so hard his veins pop out. “One of the worst days of my life, actually.”
“Why?” It’s kind of fascinating how worked up he is over it, even after all this time. Most guys are flattered when a girl goes for it, even if it is inappropriate … sometimes more so when it is.
“Because it was so wrong. I knew as soon as it happened that it would destroy my brother. And I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t even see it coming. I keep thinking maybe I should have, and if I had, I could have stopped it.”
That answer annoys me. “So essentially it’s your fault that Ian’s life is destroyed.” More of this enabler stuff. No wonder Ian’s so messed up.
Mack takes a while to answer. “No, not exactly.” He looks at me, his expression serious and possibly tortured. “Haven’t you ever made a huge mistake in judgment, not seen something coming to be able to stop it, and lived to regret it? Seen someone’s life changed, irreparably changed, and known that you had a hand in it?”
I think on that for a while before I answer. “No, I haven’t. But I can imagine that it would suck.”
He nods, back to looking at the road. “Yeah. It sucks, that’s a fact.”
I’m so confused. I wanted to be over Ian and not caring about his life, but now Mack has me thinking about him again, wondering about how the course of events in Mack’s word altered Ian’s life so drastically. Little things became big things and what was wrong became both right and then wrong at the same time. No wonder Ian doesn’t know up from down or in from out. I’d be dizzy too if I were him. There’s not just enabling going on here. There’s guilt and blame and … love.
I look at Mack and my heart kind of melts over how upset he is. He really loves his brother a lot. It makes me wish I had a big brother like him.
“You’re a good guy, Mack. I’m glad you and Andie found each other.”
“I thank God every day that he put her in my path.”
I laugh. “Even though you got doused with a cocktail?”
He laughs with me. “Yeah, even though. I still have that shirt, you know. Haven’t washed it.”
“I don’t know whether to find that charming or disturbing.”
“Andie says it’s charming.”
“She would.” I say that as if I’m insulting her, but really I’m just jealous. Every girl should have a guy like Mack saving their dirty shirts for the memories they hold.
The truck goes silent until we’re nearly back at the ranch.
“So when do we start the plan?” Mack asks as we pass through the archway leading into the ranch property.
“What plan?”
“The plan to get Ian back on track.”
My heart skips a beat as I imagine my role in that whole scenario. “Whenever you want, I guess. I’m not going to be a part of it. I’m leaving in less than two weeks.”
Mack slows to a stop and puts the truck in Park. He looks at me, leaving the engine running. “It won’t work without you, Candice.”
I pause, my hand on the door ready to open it. “Why not?”
“Because. You’re the only girl he’s had any interest in since he was thirteen years old, and he needs a reason to change. You could be that reason. I think he needs you.”
My jaw drops open. Is this really Mack sitting next to me or has some alien who’s watched too many soap operas from the eighties invaded his body?
“I have to go,” I say, opening the door and sliding down to the snow. I only slip a little when my feet hit the ground, but since I’ve learned to hang onto doors and seats until I have a steady grip I’m okay. My jeans stay dry.
“Think about it!” Mack yells as I slam the door shut.
I trot across the ground, anxious to put some distance between us. There’s no way I can respond intelligently to his ideas because my head is just a giant tornado inside.
Around and around the thoughts and emotions go, getting all tangled together. Could I help Ian without falling in love with him? And if I did fall in love with him, could I leave him behind and go back to my old life? I’m afraid the answer to both questions is no, so as I mount the stairs to my temporary room, I try to think of another way I can help him move on while not destroying myself in the process.
Chapter Thirty-Two
SUNDAY MORNING DAWNS BRIGHT AND ass-biting cold. My brilliant plan to open my bedroom window to check the temperature results in me getting frozen nostril hairs before I’m even out of my pajamas. I layer myself in half the clothes I brought from Florida just trying to keep my nipples from breaking off, before heading downstairs.
“Where are you off to so early?” Maeve asks me as I walk into the kitchen, my boots making clomping noises on the wood floor.
“Breakfast with Tate Montgomery.” I grin big, trying not to reveal the fact that I’m on a very specific mission to fix Andie’s life. “Can I borrow one of the trucks outside?”
Maeve’s smile slips a little. “I could get Ian to drive you into town if you’d like.”
I heard him come in several hours after me last night, but I haven’t seen him since he started wrestling all over the floor, nor do I want to. I’m not ready to face him and my confused feelings yet. I have to get this business about Andie taken care of first. One disaster at a time.
“No, that’s okay,” I say. “I know he’s busy.”
“He said to tell you that he’d meet you in the barn when you get up, to feed the calf.”
My heart pretty much gets a crack in it at that little statement, but I keep up the strong front. I’m not abandoning my cow baby or allowing her to starve. I know Ian’s there for her. And I’ll pick up where we left off when I return from breakfast.
“I’ll just text him and tell him to start without me. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
Maeve shuffles over in slippers to her purse. “Okay, that’s fine by me. Here. You can take the smaller S-10 out there. The green one.”
I take the keys from her and give her a hug, trying to express the fact that I mean her family no harm without words. “Thanks, Maeve. Can I get you anything while I’m in town?”
“No, that’s all right, dear. I have to go in later for several things myself, so I’ll wait.”
“Okee dokee. Tell Andie when she’s up that I’ll be home in time for lunch.”
“Will do. Mack stopped by and said they had a long night, so I don’t expect her up much before then.”
“Okay, good. That works out perfectly. See ya.”
I leave the house, relieved that I don’t need to stop in and see Andie just yet. I’m anxious to hold Sarah again and get her imprinting on me, but I have this not-a-date to keep, and I have a feeling I’m going to get a lot of good intel from Tate. He definitely knows something. Maybe I’ll come back with everything already worked out for her and we can celebrate over some tea and backwoods cappuccino.
The Chevy is pretty easy to drive, even though the back end of it likes to fishtail around sometimes. I make it into town in forty-five minutes, which puts me exactly ten minutes late for breakfast.
Walking into the steamy diner, I scan the room. It’s packed, but there’s no Tate anywhere that I can see.
“Meeting someone?” asks a girl to my left. I recognize her voice immediately.
“Hello, Hannah Banana,” I say, my tone full of sugary sweetness. I really just want to squeeze her until her silly head pops off, certain she’s the root of a lot of Andie’s problems.
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She loses her smile. “It’s just Hannah.”
I ignore her and scan the room once more. “I’m supposed to meet Tate Montgomery here but I’m a little late.”
She cocks her hip, a coffee pot dangling from her hand. “He was here, but he left.”
“Dammit.” I bite my lip, wishing I had his number or a way to get in touch with him. Now what am I supposed to do? Buy another gun? More boots? I scratch at the stitches on my arm, trying to ease the itch that’s settled in. I wince when I accidentally bump the stitches. Damn mountain lions, ruining my perfectly unblemished arm skin.
“I could call him for ya,” Hannah says. She’s smiling way too much for me to feel comfortable.
“Okaaay…” I want to ask what’s the catch, but she pretty much fills me in on that particular catch when she whips out her phone, presses some buttons and starts talking.
“Hey, Tate? Yeah, it’s me, Hannah. Your date’s here waiting for ya. Does Ian know you’re meeting her here?”
Total troublemaker. Her next call is probably going to be to Ian telling him exactly what I’m doing and who I’m doing it with. I got the impression last night that he’s not much of a fan of Tate, and who knows what Hannah’s ultimate motivation is.
She pauses and then looks up at me. “You going to wait for him?”
I nod.
“Yeah, she’ll wait.” She winks at me. “Okay, I’ll tell her. See ya.” She hangs up and points to the counter at the far end of the restaurant, just to the right of the fry-cook window. “Have a seat, he’ll be here in two seconds.”
Making my way from the front door to the farthest seat in the entire place reminds me of a recurring nightmare I have, where everyone in the room stares at me and says nothing. There must be fifty people in here and apparently nothing they were talking about before I got here is as interesting as I am.
Yes. It’s true. I am a human silencer. No one speaks when I draw near, but unlike my nightmare, I am wearing pants, so the sensation isn’t as horrible today as it is when I’m sleeping.
When I sit down on the stool, it starts to tip to the right and then stops. I’m stuck at a thirty degree angle. Whenever I try to straighten it out, it makes a horrible squeaking noise and then flops to the other side.
Squeeeak … bonk! Squeeaak … bonk!
Hannah puts an empty coffee mug down in front of me. “Regular or decaf?”
“How about a new chair?” I get up to look underneath the seat. What I see immediately makes me wish I hadn’t bothered. Talk about nasty dirty. Surely they’ve heard of bubonic plague in Baker City?
I get back up on the seat and try to smile as I tip sharply to the right, but it’s kind of difficult considering the hairy gray goop just under my butt. I put my hands on the sides of the chair cushion to help me balance, but I keep my fingers pointed at the ground so they don’t accidentally touch any of the plague germs underneath me.
Squeeeak … bonk!
I hope this seat really is covered in genuine vinyl and not some other more porous material.
“Can’t get you a new seat, sorry. Got a full house, as you can see.” She sighs, like I’m annoying her. “So? Regular or decaf?”
The door opens and bells jangle. Turning around, I see Tate standing in the entrance, taking his hat from his head. Several people call out to him and he nods or waves as he makes his way towards me, his hat poised in front of him near his waist.
He’s even better looking in the full light of day than he was at night, which I’m pretty sure violates some very important laws of optical physics. At this point I’m starting to question whether there are any ugly cowboys out here in Oregon.
“You made it,” he says, grinning as he approaches.
“Sorry I was late. I’ve never driven in snow before.”
Squeeeeak … bonk!
My chair tips to the other side and I grab both the counter and his arm to keep from falling off. “Damn chair’s busted too. I guess today’s not my day.”
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t far away.” He looks out over the room as he steadies me at my hip with a big, strong hand. “Hannah, you got any other seats?”
“For you, Tate? Any day. Just hold on a sec and I’ll go get rid of someone for ya.”
I turn back to find Hannah winking at him.
Ugh. I really just want to slap her right now, even knowing she’s rescuing me from this wonky, effed-up carousel chair that she took way too much pleasure in offering to me.
Two minutes later, Tate and I are sitting in a booth facing each other, and I’m trying to act natural. It’s hard when I know he likes me but I’m only there to pump him for information. It feels dishonest and makes me nervous as a result. Yes, he’s cute, but the fact is, he isn’t Ian. I’ve only got eyes for the one guy I can’t really have.
“Tell me you’re not one of those girls who doesn’t eat real food,” he says, smiling in a teasing way.
“No, that’s not me. I’m getting a waffle and some bacon.”
He smiles bigger and looks down at the menu. “That’s what I’m talking about. We’ll get two of each and I’ll have some eggs also, I think.”
After Hannah takes our order, he leans back against his seat and rests his arms across the back of it on either side. “Go ahead, then. I know you just came here to interrogate me.”
I grimace, totally busted. He’s way smarter than I expected him to be for as good-looking as he is. “That sounds terrible.”
He waves me off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I know my place now. Ian squared me up. Just tell me what you want to know, and I’ll see what I can tell you or find out for you.”
I ignore the Ian-squaring-him-up comment in favor of the open book he’s offering me. Andie first, Ian later.
“Okay, so what are the rumors about Andie? Why doesn’t she have any friends here?”
He reaches up and spins his knife around on the top of the table, staring at it as it goes around. “I suppose it could be a combination of things.”
“Like …?”
“Well, maybe the circumstances of her being here to start with.” He stops the knife spinning and then starts it again in the opposite direction.
“Which are …?”
He shrugs, still not looking at me. “Mack leaving the bachelor party to be with her, and then Ginny jumping to the wrong conclusions and her and Mack …”
“Her and Mack? You mean her and her. Mack had nothing to do with it.”
Tate shrugs. “Believe what you want. Some say he did, some say he didn’t.” He looks up at me.
I’m instantly enraged. “How dare they!”
When he doesn’t jump to agreeing with me, I notch down my righteous indignation. “What do you think? Do you think he asked for it?”
He shrugs again. “Probably not. I haven’t thought that much about it, to be honest. I could care less what the MacKenzies do or don’t do.”
“But knowing Mack as I assume you do, is he the type to go after his brother’s fiancée?”
Tate shakes his head. “Nope. Not that I can see.”
“Good. But I know that’s kind of past history, so what does that have to do with Andie now?”
Tate glances over at Hannah before he answers. “I’m not sure you’d understand this coming from a big city like you do, but here, things are kind of different.”
I lean in closer and lower my voice. “How are they different? Explain it to me.”
He leans in too. “For example, people get ideas in their heads about other people, and even when things aren’t going according to plan, they have a hard time accepting it.”
“Give me something specific.” I’m keeping Hannah in my sights using my peripheral vision. If she tries to come over and interrupt us I’m going to have to cause a distraction or something. Maybe I’ll throw something across the room. That should work. I could probably bury one of these butter knives in the wall if I had to.
“Take Ginny, for example. She??
?s one of those girls who had it in her head that Ian was hers, lock, stock and barrel, from the time they were kids. But he was never that into it.”
“How do you know that?” It’s like everyone but Ian and Ginny knew that Ian wasn’t in love with her. I guess that’s not too unbelievable, though. I’ve seen it enough times with my own friends. It happened with Andie and her ridiculous boyfriends all the time. She could never see what total d-bags they were, even when it was pointed out in very plain English, like me saying the more obvious things like Hey, Andie, a guy who buys you plastic surgery gift certificates for Valentine’s Day is a total dirtbag. Bradley was nearly the cause of the end of our friendship. Thank God Mack came along when he did…
“How did I know?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. You could just see it. Everyone could see it, not just me. Whenever she was around he would just kind of disappear. I mean, he was there, but not there. Know what I mean? Like a ghost. The ghost of Ian MacKenzie.”
“Yes, I think so.” It sounds very much like what Ian was trying to describe to me himself, how he was always in the background with Ginny out in front.
“But did that stop her?” Tate asks. “No. It just made her more determined. Kind of like Hannah is with Mack.”
I look over at her and see her sending nervous glances our way.
“Tell me,” I urge him. “All of it.”
He shrugs. “I’m sure you know it. She had her hooks in Mack from the start. He never gave her the time of day, really. I mean, he was polite and all, but never encouraging. Hannah figured he was hers, and since he never dated anyone around town, people thought she had a right to believe that. She moved into his place sometime after he came back from Vegas and lots of people just assumed they were a couple.”
“They weren’t. He was just being nice.”
“That’s what he says. It’s not what she says.”
I glare at him and then Hannah. “She’s a lying little bitch is what she is.” If I had lasers in my eyes, she’d be smoke right now.