Summer of Two Wishes (20 page)

It was ten o’clock on a hot, muggy Sunday morning when Finn knocked on Laru’s door. He propped one arm against the jamb and leaned into it, expecting a fight. Yeah, he’d taken off for a couple of days, but he’d called in and let his mom chew on him. He knew Macy had tried to get hold of him, too, but he’d needed to take care of a few things.

It was good that he’d gone. He’d cooled off, had a better perspective.

Laru opened the door a moment later. Of all of Macy’s relatives, Laru was definitely his favorite. He loved her free spirit and live-and-let-live attitude. She stared at him for a moment, then threw her arms around his neck. “Finn Lockhart! What a sight for sore eyes!” she cried. “Lord, it’s good to see you.” She suddenly reared back, clutching his arms, and stared into his face, ignoring Milo, who raced out the front door and tried to put his paws around Finn’s neck.

“Wait a minute,” Laru said, and stepped back. “Did you call first?”

Finn knew what she was going to do and managed to get his boot in the door before she shut it. “Do I need to call?” he asked, holding the door open with one arm, scratching Milo’s ears with the other. “Come on, Laru. Let me in. I need to talk to her.”

Laru didn’t speak. He could almost hear the cogs in her head cranking as she mulled it over. “Come on now, Laru,” he said carefully, as if he were coaxing a dog out from under a porch. “We go way back, you and me.”

She grinned. “You look great, Finneus Lockhart. You really do.”

“You look pretty damn good yourself, Laru. You wouldn’t be changing the subject, would you?”

“Finn, stop! Macy’s got a lot on her mind and she’s a little miffed, to be honest.”

“I only want to ask her a couple of things. I’ll be nice, I promise. No trouble.” Milo barked. “Now see? That’s Milo’s vote for me. Come on, Laru—for old times’ sake.”

She sighed. Milo’s tail was banging against a big potted plant. “Let me go tell her—”

“Let me.” He smiled. “Sit, boy,” he said to Milo, and the dog sat instantly.

“I’m as bad as that damn dog,” Laru said, and opened the door. “I never could resist you, you old ranch hand.” She threw her arms around his neck again, hugging him tightly.

“Thanks, Laru,” he said. “Which way to Macy?”

“In the guest room. You know where it is.”

He looked down at Milo and held his hand out, palm facing the dog. “Stay,” he said firmly, and the dog stayed.

Someone—Laru, she figured—lifted the comforter off her leg, and Macy, in the fog of sleep, reflexively kicked out.

“Ouch,” a male voice said.

Macy’s eyes flew open. She pushed herself up on her elbows and stuck her head out of the comforter, looking back at the head of the bed.

“You scared me,” Finn said. “A person’s head is usually on the pillow.”

Macy quickly scrambled to her knees. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Are you okay?”

Finn smiled. “I’m fine. Mom told you, right?”

“The only thing she would tell me is that you were alive, basically. What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“I came here to talk to you.” He gestured to the bed. “Do you realize you are sleeping upside down?”

“Laru let you in?” Macy said, her heart still pounding. Maybe next time Laru would allow a marching band in to wake her up—it would be no less startling. She dragged the comforter around her—Laru liked to keep the house at sub-zero temperatures—and looked at Finn again. “Where have you been, Finn? I was so worried.”

Finn didn’t answer right away. Macy was sleeping in an old camisole and some boy-short panties that barely covered her butt. One of the spaghetti straps of her camisole had slid down her arm and the fabric over her breast was gaping. She realized what Finn was seeing and grabbed up the comforter.

“No,” he said quickly, throwing up a hand. “Leave it.”

Macy did not let go of the comforter, but neither did she lift it to cover her. “Could you maybe have called?”

“I could have. I’m sorry I didn’t. But I needed to do a couple of things on my own.” He gave her body a sultry smile. “Mmm-mm,” he said with a shake of his head as his gaze skated over her bare legs. “I’ll say one thing for you, baby—you sure do make a man want.”

Finn looked at her as if he wanted to devour her, and while the effect was terribly sexy, she blushed.

He lifted his gaze to her breasts. “I’ve got a proposition for you,” he said to them before meeting her gaze.

She sincerely hoped it was the sort of proposition he was making with his eyes. “Oh, yeah?”

“Come with me for the day,” he said. “I need your help.”

Macy unthinkingly dropped the comforter. Anything. Anything he needed. What was it about him that could beckon her at will?

“I hate to tell you to get dressed,” he said, taking her in. “I like what I’m seeing. I like it a lot,” he added, and shoved his hands in his back pockets, almost as if to keep from touching her. “But we’ve got something to do, so get dressed. And wear something comfortable.”

She stepped toward him, lifted up on her toes, and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I am so happy to see you, Finn. You have no idea.”

One corner of Finn’s mouth tipped up; he put his hand on her waist. She could see the desire in his eyes, could feel it rising up in her. Finn groaned softly. “Get dressed before I chew that top off you,” he said, and bent his head, touching his lips to the small patch of skin at her temple.

The sensation shimmered through Macy. She dropped the comforter as desire thrummed between them. “I ought to have your hide for disappearing like that.”

“You can have my hide and more,” he murmured, and skimmed her lips with his.

It was a sweet, tender kiss, but it seared her like a branding iron.

She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure as she sank back onto her heels. Finn’s hands cupped her face and tilted it up to his to kiss her. He shifted into her, his body touching hers, and his warmth and her relief that he was all right combined to send Macy’s heart falling and tumbling, back to the place they’d been before she’d discovered she was pregnant.

He moved to her neck as his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer, so that her breasts were pressed against his chest and his erection pressed against her. She sank into him. She wanted to pull him onto her bed, pull the comforter over them, and sink even deeper into the desire that was filling her up. She wanted as much intimacy with him as she could before she had to tell him the truth. She might have done it, too, had nausea not begun to swirl in her belly. She swallowed it down and said breathlessly, “Bathroom,” and put her hands between them, pushing him lightly. “Have to.”

Finn lifted his head. His eyes were burning with desire, stark and untapped. But he stroked her temple again, then her hair. “God, I missed you,” he said. He dropped his hand. “Wear your hair down. I like it down.”

She smiled. Macy had never been able to resist Finn Lockhart, especially when he talked to her like that. Her helplessness where he was concerned allowed her to forget, if only for a few hours, that she was carrying Wyatt’s baby.

Finn elected to wait outside because he couldn’t trust himself not to have his way with Macy on Laru’s fancy sheets. He sat on the split rail fence that lined the drive beneath the shade of an old live oak. Milo lay at his feet, acting a little like he was afraid Finn would take off without him. In addition to Milo, Jesse Wheeler was keeping him company. “Dude,” Jesse had said when he’d wandered outside and had seen Finn leaning up against the railing. “Welcome back.”

They chatted for a bit, Jesse telling him he’d heard some wild stories about his time in Afghanistan and Finn admitting he’d been to hell and back. But it made him uncomfortable, and he turned the conversation back to Jesse. “So what is up with you?” he asked, nodding to Laru’s house.

Jesse grinned. “Some folks think I’ve gone off the reservation here, but I’m having a great time with Laru. It won’t last forever, but it’s good for both of us now.” He began to tell Finn how he’d ended up at Laru’s, and while Finn was certain it was an interesting story, he hardly heard a word Jesse said. He was thinking of that kiss in Macy’s room. It had lit a furnace in him that was burning out of control. He was finding it damn near impossible to be respectful of the issues they had.

He was never so thankful as he was when she finally came walking out of the house, a tote bag slung over her shoulder. She had on a big sun hat, but she’d left her hair down and it was skimming her bare shoulders. She was wearing a skimpy little top that rode a little high, revealing her belly button, and a pair of shorts that came down to her knees. She also wore a pair of land-to-water sandals. Her legs, slender, shapely, and tanned, were almost as much fun to look at as her backside, a view of which she was giving Finn and Jesse as she leaned over the back of his truck to put the massive tote bag in the bed.

She turned around, put her hands on her hips, and stared at the two of them. “Jesse, what are you going on about now?”

“Just filling him in on what he’s missed,” Jesse said.

Macy’s eyes narrowed.

“About
me,
Macy-cakes,” Jesse cheerfully clarified. “I’ll let you tell him your own dark secrets.” He pushed away from the fence. “You two have fun.”

As Jesse strolled back to the house, Finn looked at Macy. She instantly threw her hands up. “Don’t ask me,” she said. “I was as surprised as anyone to find him here. Now are you going to tell me where you’ve been?” she demanded, folding her arms.

Finn smiled and walked to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door. “Get in, Fancy Face, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Macy grinned at him, adjusted her hat, and climbed into the pickup truck. Milo hopped in, too, eliciting a cry of alarm from Macy when he walked over her and settled into the middle.

It felt just like old times, Finn thought as he walked around the front of the truck to the driver’s side.

Macy said there was something about the smell of an old pickup that made her nostalgic. Finn smiled and nodded like he knew what she meant, but privately, he thought maybe the stress was getting to her—he didn’t find anything nostalgic about the scent of leather, animal, and man mixed together.

However, the scent of her perfume was nostalgic and pretty damn arousing.

“So where did you go, Finneus?” she insisted as he pulled onto the highway, and gave him a playful tap on the shoulder.

“Up near Dallas-Fort Worth.”

“Dallas-Fort Worth! What for?”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to see if I could get my horses back.”

Macy gasped and twisted in her seat to look at him. “
Did
you? Please tell me you got them back!”

She looked so hopeful that he wished he could tell her that, but shook his head. “After Bill Gaines bought them from you, he split them up. He sold Fritter to a ranch in Montana. They’re entering him in competitions. I’m not sure where Bosco ended up, but I think Oklahoma.”

Macy’s face fell. “But he said…he said he wouldn’t split them up,” she said, clearly bewildered.

“I’m sure Bill Gaines said whatever he needed to say to get them. He’s wanted my horses for a long time.”

“What about Fannie?” she asked morosely.

“Well, now, he had the sense to keep Fannie,” Finn said with a smile. “The good news is that I found the old girl and I got to see her. But he’s not selling.”

Macy slumped against the serape-covered seat back.

“It’s not all bad news,” Finn assured her. “I found something else.”

She gave him a wry smile, as if she expected him to say that he’d found a pair of favored boots or something equally insignificant. “What?”

Finn grinned. “José Banda.”

Macy squealed with delight. “José! How is he? What is he doing? Is he okay?”

Finn laughed. He reached across Milo and squeezed her shoulder. “He damn near had a heart attack when he saw me, but he’s okay now. And he’s coming back to work with me as soon as I am on my feet.”

“That’s fantastic! I can’t wait to see him. But Finn…just like that, without telling anyone, you decided to go up to Dallas-Fort Worth?”

“I guess a little like that,” he admitted, and told Macy about his abrupt departure. He told her about his uncertainty when he didn’t hear from her, which made her flinch. He told her about the argument with Brodie, about taking off with no real purpose but then deciding to find his horses. He told her about finding José, and teared up a little when he related how the old man had fallen to his knees with a prayer of thanks to the Virgin Mary for the miracle of Finn’s survival.

Finn did not tell Macy about the night he left the Gaines ranch and stayed in a Motel 8 on the highway, or the dream of a missile blowing Nasir to bits. He didn’t tell her about drinking well past the point of coherence, or how he woke up sick with José leaning over him, scolding him in Spanish. He didn’t tell her how shamed he’d been, or how frightened he was because he didn’t remember much of anything or even recognize himself anymore.

He didn’t tell her that the next day he’d pulled the mangled piece of paper Brodie had given him from his pocket and called the number scribbled on it. He’d come back to Austin and met with Dr. Rock, and after just one meeting, Finn had felt a little bit of hope.

He was also making new plans about where to go from here. But he wanted Macy with him. He wanted Macy’s partnership, her love, her smile to start his day, and he didn’t know how to get that across but to show her.

Macy listened with rapt attention as he talked, pushing Milo’s snout from her face from time to time when the dog was feeling affectionate. “Wow,” she said when he’d told her all that he would. She shook her head and looked out the window a moment. “I’m so sorry,” she said, so low that he almost didn’t hear her. “God, Finn, I wish I could go back. I wish I could take back the decisions I made after you supposedly died.”

Finn hoped she meant Wyatt, but it was a pointless hope. “I guess Granddaddy was right,” he said. “No such thing as a single wish, because once you wish it, another one is born. Every wish is really two wishes.”

“I guess,” she said, and hid her face in Milo’s neck. A moment later she looked up and forced a smile. “Where are we going?”

“Almost there,” he said.

Finn pulled into a drive that wound around some live oak trees and ended in the parking lot of a very large and very brown corrugated-metal building. Two glass doors marked the entrance and a sign above them read
LOCKHART VETERINARY AND ANIMAL HOSPITAL
. Macy had heard Luke had moved south to be closer to rural areas that needed veterinary services for large animals. Luke specialized in ranch animals.

Finn got out of the truck; Milo leapt out after him and went racing around the corner. “What’s going on?” Macy asked as she stepped out. “Are you going to work with Luke?”

“Nope.” He smiled, took her by the elbow, steered her to the entrance, and ushered her into ice-cold refrigerated air. At the counter, a woman in scrubs patterned with playful cartoon dogs took them back to the pens where Luke was working. The clinic was one wide central corridor lined with livestock pens.

They walked past two pigs, which stuck their snouts between the rungs of the gate and sniffed at them. There was a cow, chewing her cud, which hardly seemed to notice them at all. One pen held what looked and sounded like an entire herd of bleating goats. The other pens held horses. The woman pointed to Luke, who was in the last stall with a horse.

A teenager working with Luke held the horse’s halter. The horse snorted and tried to jerk his head free of the young man’s hold, but Luke quickly injected something into the horse’s flank from an enormous syringe. “Steady, now,” he said to the horse. “Steady.” When he finished, he rubbed the area he’d injected.

The horse, and a smaller horse in an adjacent stall, looked emaciated to Macy. Their ribs were visible, their coats dull, and patches of bare skin could be seen on the smaller one. Finn reached through the gate and stroked the nose of the smaller one.

“Hey!” Luke said, noticing them as he stood up. “You made it.” He walked out of the stall and paused to kiss Macy’s cheek like he used to do before Finn had gone away, just like nothing had changed.

“Hi, Luke,” Macy said warmly. “What a great clinic!”

“Been open a year,” he said proudly. He glanced over his shoulder at the young man in the stall. “Okay, J.J., I think we got her done. You want to feed those ornery pigs?”

“Do I have to?” the young man asked as he came out of the stall, but he was grinning. He nodded politely at Macy as he walked past.

Luke was wearing knee-high rubber boots and a rubber apron over jeans. He smiled happily. “Good. Okay, Finneus,” he said, looking at his brother. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

“Yep,” Finn said, still stroking the smaller horse’s nose.

“All right, then. These two are doing a lot better than they look, and they could definitely use the exercise.”

What did he mean, they could use the exercise? Macy looked at Finn, then at Luke, but as usual, the two were focused on the horses.

“What’s up with the guy who had them?” Finn asked.

“He’s in jail,” Luke said firmly. “I heard his bail was set at one hundred thousand dollars, so I’m hoping that will keep him there for a while. After that, who knows?”

“What guy?” Macy asked.

“Some jerk from down around Bandera,” Luke explained, indicating the horses with his head. “They were neglected by an ass down there who was starving them to death. He’d put them out to pasture in a field that had been grazed down to dirt. No water, no feed. Probably would have succeeded in killing them if a couple hadn’t gotten lost looking for their daughter’s house and spotted them. I know the sheriff down there, and he brought the horses up here. I’ve had them a couple of weeks now.”

Macy stared at the horses. It was inconceivable to her that someone could deliberately harm an animal. How heartless must one be to starve defenseless horses?
“Why?”
she asked simply.

“I don’t know,” Luke said. “Ignorance. Cruelty. I wish I knew.” He looked at the horses fondly, clearly attached to them. The larger one put his head over the gate and nudged Luke before leaning down to a bucket. “They’re doing great now,” he said, and held up a pair of apples to the larger horse. “I don’t know if they’d make good cutters, but they’d make someone a good horse.”

“I can see that,” Finn agreed. He took the apple Luke offered and fed it to the smaller horse.

“Don’t laugh, but I call them Fred and Barney,” Luke said. He glanced at Finn. “I’ve got all the tack you need right there,” he added, nodding to a wall in the back where saddles, bridles, bits, reins, and all necessary accoutrements were kept. “Take it easy and don’t run them. They can trot or canter, but it would be best to let them meander. They’ll let you know when they’re tired and ready to head on in.”

“Wait…what are we doing here?” Macy asked, looking at Finn.

Luke winked at Macy. “You have a good afternoon, Macy,” he said. “I’ll see you later.” He walked away.

Macy whirled around to Finn. “What is he talking about? Are you going to ride them somewhere?”

“Not me,” Finn said. “Us.” At that, he started toward the tack wall.

“Oh no,” Macy said. “No, no, no, Finn.”

Finn ignored her. Macy panicked. She wasn’t much of a rider. Granted, Finn had done his best to teach her, and she’d managed to do okay on Fannie and Bosco—but only when Finn was with her. She’d tried to ride Fritter once and he’d thrown her. “He knows you’re quaking in your boots, baby,” Finn had said unhelpfully that afternoon as he’d helped her up. “Let’s get back up and—”

“No!” Macy had cried. “I won’t go near that beast!”

“Hey, don’t hurt his feelings,” Finn had said and had helped her up, then made her get back on the horse.

Just the memory of it sent her into a panic. “Finn—I can’t ride these horses.”

“Sure you can,” he said with cheerful confidence, and hoisted a saddle onto his shoulder, a saddle pad on top of that. “Piece of cake.”

“No, it’s not a piece of cake, it’s more like…like bad chili,” she pleaded with him as he stepped inside the stall. “I mean, if you want to ride, that’s great! I could do something here. Maybe sweep the stall,” she said, then looked down at the stall and wrinkled her nose. “Luke could use the help, right?”

“He sure could and that is exactly what we’re doing. We’re helping Luke.”

“Ohmigod,” Macy moaned heavenward.

Finn laughed as he stepped into the stall with the smaller horse. “You’ll be fine,” he said, and stroked the horse’s neck a moment before he put the saddle pad on the horse’s back. “And I’ll be with you.” He gave her a reassuring smile as he ducked under Fred or Barney’s neck and walked around to the other side to straighten out the pad.

“Finn,” she said a little frantically as she hopped up onto the bottom rung of the gate so she could see him. “You know I’m hopeless. On top of that, the last time I was on a horse was a long time ago—”

“Too long.”

“Yes, yes, too long! These poor horses have been abused. I don’t want to make it worse.”

Finn walked around the horse again, pausing at the gate to touch his fingertips to her face and look her square in the eye. “Think of it this way—you’re giving Barney the freedom he wants, and nothing tastes sweeter to man or horse than that. He’ll be easy for you.”

“Wait—how do you know which one is Barney and who decided I get him? I might want Fred. Did you think of that?” she asked petulantly, sensing the argument was a lost cause.

“I don’t know,” Finn said with a bit of a shrug as he picked up the bit and bridle. He glanced up, a mischievous grin on his face. “You seem like a Barney kind of girl to me.”

“I do not!” she cried, pretending to be affronted. They continued to argue whether or not she was a Barney or a Fred girl while Finn saddled up the pair of horses and Macy hung over the top railing of the gate, complaining about her clothing, her footwear, the fact that there was no place to ride around nearby.

She watched Finn as he worked—she’d forgotten just how natural this was for him. Neither horse seemed skittish. He knew how to press back when they questioned him, where to stroke them to soothe them. In only minutes, he had them both ready to ride, and Macy had to admit, both horses looked eager to be out of the stalls and the small adjoining paddock.

Finn led the big one out and tethered him. He then fetched the smaller horse, which he told Macy had to be Barney. “Didn’t you ever watch
The Flintstones?
” he asked. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He returned a few minutes later with a backpack.

“What’s that?” Macy asked.

“I had forgotten how nosy you are.”

“Some people call it nosy, others call it inquisitive.”

Finn grinned, a lovely, warm smile that creased his cheeks. “Come on over here, girl,” he said, and stroked Barney’s neck. “Barney wants out of here before the sun goes down. And I haven’t been on the back of a good horse in a long time—Dad’s old nag doesn’t count. I think I might come out of my skin if I don’t get on one soon.”

The reminder of his captivity trumped Macy’s fear of horses and with a sigh of resignation, she walked to where he stood. Barney turned his head, looking at her with one enormous brown eye, sizing her up. “Man,” she said, defeated. “He knows, Finn. He knows I can’t ride.”

Finn stepped up behind her, put his hands on her waist, and tenderly kissed the back of her neck. “Baby…
trust
me.”

Finn Lockhart could talk her into anything. She imagined he could talk her into jumping off a cliff if he wanted. Even now, she was the lemming, going along by putting her foot in the stirrup and allowing him to lift her up onto Barney’s back. She landed with a cry of surprise. Finn laughed and patted her thigh before he handed her the reins. “Remember the cardinal rule?”

“No crying.”

“That’s my girl!” he exclaimed and, grinning, walked to the other horse. As Macy watched him fluidly swing himself up, she realized that she’d seen Finn laugh more today than she had in all the time he’d been home. This was his element, the place he belonged. This was what made him happy.