he’d had on
during the workday. He had let his stubble grow out longer in the previous
week. It wasn’t quite a full beard, but definitely more than a shadow. He wore
the same clothes he’d been riding in: blue jeans and a white tee. His back was
to her.
“Whatever you came up here for,” he called angrily, “I don’t
have it. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said with an exaggerated
exhalation. “Glad we got that part out of the way.”
“Go away, Mackenna,” he said wearily with a sigh.
“Are you trying to scare me with your attitude?” she asked
evenly. “If you are, you can stop wasting your time. I spent six hours with a
grizzly. I hate to tell you, but he takes the cake.”
“I’m not trying to scare you,” he bit back. “I’m trying to
tell you that I don’t want you here.”
She sat down beside him, crossing her legs like his. “Well,
that’s just too damn bad,” she said, “cause I’m not going anywhere until you
tell me what’s going on with you.”
“I hope you brought a blanket,” he said. “It gets cold here
in the middle of the night.”
“I remember,” she reminded him. “But If I’m here that long
I’ll steal yours. So, see? It’s in your best interest to tell me what’s up so I
can leave.”
“It’s none of your business,” he growled. “Just leave it.”
Here, she faltered. “You’re right. It’s not my business, but
it’s really bothering me how much you’ve changed.”
He said nothing, just continued to watch the sunset out of
the window. The last golden rays exploded in shafts of brilliant light shooting
up from behind Mortimer Peak. Mackenna didn’t want to force him to reveal
anything he wasn’t comfortable with, but she couldn’t stand this cold, harsh
distance between them. She’d been racking her brain for weeks to determine when
he had changed. She decided to test her theory.
“Alora is a strong woman,” she stated.
“She’s fragile,” he returned stiffly. “She’s far weaker than
she realizes, and too pigheaded to listen to reason.”
“Aah,” she drawled. “So, that’s where you get it from.”
He rose swiftly with an impatient huff.
“Brent,” she called after him as he began pacing. “Come on,
it was a joke.” She stood, facing him. “Look, I get it. You feel guilty that
you are not with your mom, helping her out, but why does that mean that you
have to act like a jerk around here?”
He stopped abruptly and glared at her.
“Mackenna, you don’t get anything. It’s not about missing my mom. It’s about taking care of her. She’s
got no one but me to look out for her.”
“That’s not true,” Mackenna interrupted his flow. “She has
Emma and a whole host of friends in the McCrae family.”
“One family of friends and a live-in nurse,” he said dryly.
“This should make her life happy and me happy for abandoning her to it?”
“How many people does a person need to be happy?” she asked,
and when he didn’t answer right away she spoke with more sympathy. “Even if you
could fill every moment of your mom’s life with love and laughter, it’s not
going to make her walk again.”
“So, the answer is to not try to make her happy?” he said,
dripping with disdain.
“No, Brent,” she said firmly. “Don’t twist my words.”
“What’s your point then?” he snapped.
“My point is that you are trying to heal something that
can’t be healed,” she returned heatedly. “You can labor away for the rest of
your life but you’ve already set yourself up for failure.”
Brent turned his back on her, balling his fists against a
rising anger. When he finally spoke the words ground out of his mouth in a low
snarl.
“Mackenna, I know you came here to help, but you have no
idea what you’re talking about, and all you’re doing is pissing me off. Go
away. Go back to your horses and your jokes and your freedom and leave me alone.”
She sighed with a
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