Summer of Two Wishes (5 page)

“She needs to file for a divorce from Lockhart. When the divorce is granted, your marriage is automatically made valid. Basically, it’s up to her.”

“What about property?” Wyatt asked.

“If the property belonged to her before your marriage, it’s hers. If the property was Lockhart’s, and she inherited it because of his death, it’s still his. If she sold it, he’s still entitled to the value of it. If I were you, I wouldn’t buy or sell any personal property until this is worked out.”

The news left Wyatt reeling. This was a nightmare—not only was his business buying and selling land, including land he bought and then flipped for a profit, he was counting on the sale of the Lockhart land to help fund his resort. Not to mention a portion of the Lockhart land was to be used in the resort footprint—they were going to put condos up on the southern end of the ranchland.

Macy
. He flipped his phone open and dialed Macy’s number, expecting it to roll to voice mail. He tossed the papers on his desk as he waited for the phone to connect.

“Hello?”

Wyatt started at the sound of Macy’s voice. “Macy!” he said, relieved and elated and…and
relieved.
“Where have you been, sweetheart? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for two days.”

“I know, Wyatt, I’m sorry. I just haven’t had a moment.” She sounded exhausted. Her voice was flat, the life gone out of it.

“Are you okay?”

“Me?” She sounded surprised. “I’m fine. I’m just…I’m tired. We’ve had to do this round of interviews and press briefings, and it’s been really hard. The whole world is looking at us through a microscope.”

“Yeah, it’s all over the news,” he said. “How…” He wanted to ask, he desperately wanted to ask, but he couldn’t seem to make himself say the words.

Macy knew him too well, apparently, because she said softly, “He’s fine. He’s tired, too. And he’s overwhelmed. We all are.”

“How did he take the news?” Wyatt asked.

There was a pause so long he could have driven cattle through it. Wyatt heard the catch in her voice and the little gasp for air and realized she was crying. “Not well. I’m sure he’s confused and hurt, but he’ll hardly talk at all. He keeps looking at me like I stabbed him in the heart,” she said through a rush of tears. “I feel awful, Wyatt! I
did
stab him in the heart! I might as well have picked up a knife! That’s what kept him going—he thought he was coming home to…to
us
. I don’t know what to do!”

Wyatt anxiously shoved a hand through his hair. If he could, he would have reached through that phone to hold her. “This is why I wanted to come with you, sweetheart. I knew this would be too hard for you.”

“What was I supposed to do, show up to greet my long-lost husband with my new husband? How could I do that to him, Wyatt? Or
you
, for that matter? No, I definitely had to do this on my own.”

“Come home,” he said, his pulse starting to thump in his neck. “Come home now, don’t wait. His folks are there, right? And his brother? Maybe they can—”

“No, no, the army won’t let us,” she cut him off. “They are concerned about how everything looks, and there are all these people and officials who want to welcome him home. He’s a
hero.
”

“I’m coming to Washington, then. I am not going to let you go through this alone.”

“You can’t come to Washington!” she cried. “That would make everything so much worse!”

“Worse?”
he responded angrily. “I’m your husband, Macy!”

“Think about it, Wyatt! The press would be all over it. It’s not a good idea. Please stay there.”

“How am I supposed to—look, Macy, Finn’s got a lot of issues he’s going to have to face. You can’t be held prisoner for three years and not bring back some problems. But you don’t need to face them for him.
He
needs to face them. You…you need to come home and you and I will face whatever the fallout is from this together. That’s what husbands and wives do, they face hardship together.”

“Are you kidding?” she asked with uncharacteristic ire. “I’m not going to let him twist in the wind after all he’s been through! Can you imagine being held by the Taliban all this time? Do you know they kept him chained?”

Yes, he knew; he’d heard it all just like the rest of the free world. “Macy, darlin’, listen to me,” Wyatt said, feeling control slip through his fingers, feeling his heart dangling on a very thin string. “I know he’s been through a rough time—I can’t even begin to imagine how rough it has been for him, and he’s a stronger man than I am for having survived it. But the fact remains that you are married to
me
now, and he’s going to have to accept that.”

“Am I?” she asked tearfully. “Honestly, Wyatt, I don’t know that I am married to you. Not legally, anyway. And there are all these questions.”

“What questions? Who is asking the questions?” he demanded angrily. If Jillian was stirring the pot—after Jillian’s initial legal assessment, which she had freely shared with anyone who would listen, Wyatt had told her to please leave it to him, that he’d handle it, and had immediately called Jack.

“No one,” Macy said. “I mean, I guess it’s me. I have questions.”

Wyatt’s heart was beating as if he’d just run through fire. “I told you I’d handle it, Macy. It’s not anything you need to worry about now. You need to come home
now
. When you get home, we will straighten out whatever needs to be straightened out. But you need to come home.”

“Wyatt, please try to understand. We—oh, wait a minute, I’m getting another call.”

“Macy!” Wyatt shouted into the phone. “Macy, wait—do you know how much I love you?” he asked in a desperate bid to keep her on the line a moment longer, to make her understand him. “Do you understand how much you mean to me?”

“Yes, yes, of course!” she responded impatiently. “And I love you, too, Wyatt, you know I do, but I can’t talk about this right now!”

“Mac—”

“I have to go! I’ll call you later,” she said.

The line went dead. Wyatt reared back and gaped at his cell phone. He glanced up, stared blankly out the window at the cows gathered around the little pond, then hurled his cell phone at the wall.

Daisy’s Saddle-brew Coffee Shop was at the north end of the town square, just a few blocks from Wyatt’s office. It was a cute little place with a store for knickknacks and objets d’art up front, and coffee and pastries in back. Linda Gail went there every day promptly at half past eleven on her bank run to meet her posse, all of whom worked nearby.

They were engaged in a lively debate when she walked in. Reena worked for a CPA. She was a free spirit and had styled her hair into dreadlocks. She was pointing her finger at Anne, a fifty-something grandmother and receptionist, who routinely talked as if she had perhaps ten years left on this earth. That annoyed Linda Gail, but she had learned to tune out Anne’s litany of health complaints. The third woman, Cathy, a mother of four and a dental hygienist, always looked exhausted, but she was the most cheerful person Linda Gail had ever known. Linda Gail had three kids, and that was plenty. If Davis hadn’t had the snip done after their daughter was born, Linda Gail would have killed him. She really would have.

Samantha Delaney was working the counter when Linda Gail ordered her usual caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream. Linda Gail had always felt a little sorry for Samantha. She’d moved to Texas shortly before her husband was deployed to Iraq, and not quite two months later he was killed in action. Samantha had stayed on in Cedar Springs—something about her mother having a new boyfriend back in Indiana, and Samantha feeling more comfortable here. Linda Gail couldn’t imagine being without a mother to lean on, but at least Samantha had Macy. The two young women had met in a survivors support group and had become thick as thieves…until Macy married Wyatt. Samantha seemed to have been a little lost since then.

“Did the news crews move out?” Linda Gail asked Samantha.

“Yes. One of them said they’d probably be back when the hero came home.”

“Oh great,” Linda Gail said with a roll of her eyes.

“They’re good for business,” Sam said with a shrug.

“I suppose they are,” Linda Gail agreed for the sake of being agreeable. She picked up her coffee and sauntered over to the table. “I could hear you old hens outside,” she said to her friends as she fit herself onto a chair. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“We’re debating who your boss’s wife is going to end up with,” Anne said. “Or
should
end up with.”

“So?” Cathy asked excitedly as Linda Gail sipped from her drink. “Who is she going to choose, do you know?”

“How would I know?” Linda Gail asked, and licked the cream from her straw. “It’s not like I’ve talked to her.”

“She has to choose her original husband,” Reena said. “There is no other answer.”

“Why is there no other answer?” Anne demanded. “They buried him and she fell in love with another man. Who is to say the second one is not the right one for her? Everyone assumed the first one was her only true love, but I happen to believe a woman can have many true loves.”

“Why, because you’ve had three?” Reena asked with a snort.

“So what if I have?” Anne said defensively.

“Whether Linda Gail’s boss is the right one or not, Macy married him, and she can’t just toss him out like an old pair of tennis shoes,” Cathy said with an affirmative nod.

“What about the soldier?” Reena asked. “He was a
prisoner
of
war
for three years. Doesn’t he deserve to come back to the life he had?”

“What about her life?” Anne said. “It’s not like we’re talking about a dog.”

“There’s a dog, too,” Linda Gail said. “Milo. It was Finn’s, but now it belongs to Macy and Wyatt.”

“How’s Wyatt doing, anyway?” Cathy asked, trying to seem sympathetic instead of completely titillated by what had become the biggest scandal in town since the ex-mayor’s affair.

Linda Gail drank thirstily before speaking. She liked drawing out the drama. She lowered her cup and looked around at her three friends. “This is not to leave this table, understood?”

They all nodded eagerly.

“He’s a basket case.”

“Really?”
Cathy asked, and the three of them leaned forward, anxious to hear the details.

“He’s not sleeping, he’s not eating. Yesterday, he almost forgot a closing. He never forgets a closing. And today, he forgot that he read an environmental report just yesterday.”

“Wow,” Reena said.

“Has he said anything?” Anne asked.

“Not a damn word,” Linda Gail said. “But I know this—he loves her. I’ve known Wyatt for a long time, and Lord, he has been through some women. But he’s never loved anyone like he loves Macy Clark.”

“He’s a good-looking man,” Anne said, as if that excused the way he used to cat around town. “Love that black hair and blue eyes combination.”

“Yes, but did you see
Finn
?” Cathy whispered. “Oh my
God
,” she said, putting a hand over her heart.

“Stop it, you guys,” Reena said. “This is heartbreaking, and Wyatt is going to get the short end of this stick, I just know it.”

“Well, if he does, I know who will be waiting in the wings,” Linda Gail said casually.

“Who?” Reena demanded.

“Caroline Spalding.”

The other women gasped in perfect unison. Linda Gail nodded. Caroline Spalding was Cedar Springs’s most notorious divorcée. She was very regal, blonde, and wealthy, and like a lot of rich folks, lived in the Hill Country. It was a short drive to Austin, but close to home, and the views were beautiful.

As if that weren’t enough, Caroline was a true barracuda. She was dangerous because she didn’t come across as one—she quietly pursued men, married or not. “It’s true,” Linda Gail said. “She’s called twice since the news broke because she suddenly needs help with a land deal.”

“She’s barking up the wrong tree,” Anne said irritably. “Wyatt and Macy love each other. He’s not going anywhere.”

“But she loved Finn Lockhart first,” Reena reminded them all. “And you should have seen the way Finn looked at her on the
Today
show. It’s obvious that he loves her something awful.”

“Imagine, having two handsome men want you,” Cathy said with a sigh. “I’d be happy if Jerry just wanted me on Saturday night.”

They laughed. But as the talk moved to just how hot Matt Lauer was on a scale of one to ten, Linda Gail couldn’t help but worry about Wyatt. In spite of his gruffness, Linda Gail was fond of him. He was like a little brother to her, and she knew that he loved Macy more than the air he breathed. Wyatt wasn’t the easiest guy to get to know, and he didn’t have a lot of close friends. He was gruff to the point of being rude sometimes, and God, he was a driven man. But there was something about Macy that softened him.

If this deal didn’t go his way, Linda Gail worried what it would do to him.

If one more person asked Macy what she was going to do, she could not be responsible for their safety.

The last person—a perky, tiny little Tinkerbell from CBS—had asked with an affected smile, and it had taken all of Macy’s strength to keep from telling the woman to mind her own business. Why couldn’t people just rejoice in Finn’s being alive and coming home? Why couldn’t the big news story be his miraculous survival? That was all Macy could think about when she looked at him. The reality of it was sinking in a little deeper each moment. It was incredible he was
here
.

She started each interview grinning with glee, hardly able to contain her joy. But then some journalist would deflate her with intrusive questions about her second marriage. How could anyone think the decision she faced was one that could be made with the glare of TV lights in her face? Didn’t everyone understand that she was teetering on the edge of a chasm that had just opened up in her life, and there was nothing to guide her away from the edge?

She just wanted to celebrate Finn. She would deal with the rest of it later.

Macy hoped the scrutiny would end when they left D.C., and it did for the few hours it took to fly back to Austin. The army had supplied them with a plane and everyone sought a little space after so much time in close company; they’d scattered. Finn was the last to board. He walked past Macy to the back of the plane and sat with his brother Brodie for the flight home.

Macy was expecting that. Since the moment she’d told him she’d remarried, he hadn’t really spoken to her except on camera. He’d been so stunned and angry that she’d called Brodie and retreated to Emma’s room, waiting for Brodie to call her back.

Only Brodie didn’t call her back. Finn didn’t want to see her. Macy had hoped that once he’d had time to relax, she could talk to him. But that hadn’t happened.

When they arrived in Austin, they were greeted by the local media, more of Finn’s family, including his older brother Luke; Nancy Keller, the mayor of Cedar Springs; and other government officials. They were ushered into a reception hosted by the Friends of Fort Hood, all arranged by Major Sanderson.

Exhausted, Macy stood to one side, listening to Finn’s garrison leader, Colonel Deavers, tell Finn that he should get an agent to field the requests for interviews and book and movie deals. “It’s a miraculous story,” the colonel said.

“Yes, sir,” Finn said.

Colonel Deavers looked at Macy. “It must have come as quite a shock to you, Mrs. Lockhart.”

“It was an answer to my prayers,” she said, and smiled at Finn. He looked down.

“There will be a lot to sort out,” the colonel opined.

Macy smiled and nodded that yes, there would be things to sort out, more than the colonel could possibly know. Life was moving at lightning speed, and Macy was no closer to knowing what to do than she had been the afternoon she’d been reunited with Finn. Oh, but her heart had swelled at the sight of him, her body had responded instantly to his touch. She had believed, in those few feverish moments in the hotel room, that her path was clear, and the path led to Finn.

But then Wyatt’s anguish had crept into her consciousness, and she recalled his devastation when she told him Finn was alive and the heartache in his voice over the phone, and Macy had realized that there was no clear path.

She loved two men
. She loved them differently, but she loved them both nonetheless, and it left her incapable of making a decision. Or eating or sleeping, for that matter. She was paralyzed.

“I suspect they will want your story, too, Mrs. Lockhart,” Colonel Deavers added with a smile.

Clark
. Her last name was Clark.

“We’ll talk about it,” Finn said, and put his hand possessively on the small of Macy’s back. “Will you excuse us, sir? I need to get Macy something to eat.”

“Of course,” the colonel said, and gestured toward the buffet.

Macy didn’t want food—the scent of something on the buffet was making her nauseous as it was. “I’m not hungry,” she said as Finn led her away from the officer.

“Me either,” he said.

He led her off to the side, to a dark corner near the buffet. He gave her a faint, sad smile, and Macy felt a tug of deep longing. “Just think, a few more minutes of this and you can finally go home.”

“Yes, but not exactly the home I was hoping for,” he said. “I’d like to talk a minute, Macy. We haven’t had much of a chance.”

“No, we haven’t. And there is so much I want to say.” That she was sorry, so very sorry. That she still loved him, had never stopped loving him.

Finn put his back to the crowd and wearily ran a hand over his hair. It was lighter now, a sandy brown with streaks of blond. He was leaner, and harder, too. The shadow of a beard covered his chin and jaw. Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of his copper-brown eyes that hadn’t been there before, and Macy realized he’d aged more than the three years he’d been held captive.

Three years
. Three years and nine months since he’d left Texas, to be exact. Macy had heard the tale of his capture, his captivity and his daring escape along with everyone else. Yet she wanted to hear more, to hear all of it, to know exactly what he’d endured in those three years and nine months. But remarkably, those questions seemed small when compared to the big question that sat like an elephant between them: Where did they go from here?

Finn touched her hand. “You okay?”

That was so like Finn to worry about her when he was the one who was being dragged through the wringer. She smiled. “I feel like I’ve won the lottery. How about you?”

“I’m glad it’s almost over.” He glanced back at the people gathered in the room, then looked at her again. His gaze moved over her face and flicked to her chest. There was a distant sort of hunger in his eyes, and it stirred a familiar fever in her. “I want to thank you. You’ve been great the last couple of days,” he said. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Liar,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “I’ve barely strung a coherent sentence together. You are the one who’s been great.” He’d been charming when he needed to be and at ease throughout, squeezing her hand when he felt the small tremors in her and pulling her up when she wanted to sink. On those occasions when he was interviewed alone, she marveled at how strong and how relaxed he looked, whereas she’d found the attention excruciatingly painful.

“I’m serious,” he said, and casually freed a strand of her hair from her collar. “It’s not so tough for me. All I had to do was say it was great to be home. They were putting the hard questions to you.”

“Impossible questions,” she muttered, and averted her gaze a moment, her mind full of complicated thoughts. “It was hard to find the right words to respond with. It’s even harder finding the right words to say all I want to say to you.”

Finn’s jaw flinched. “You seemed to find the right words.”

“No, I mean…I didn’t tell you how sorry I am for everything, for what you’ve been through, for what you came home to. And how indescribably happy I am that this is real, that you are really here. Who would have dreamed this could happen?”

“I did. I dreamed something like this could happen every day.”

He said it in a way that suggested he thought she should have, too, and guilt stabbed Macy—she hadn’t dreamed hard enough or long enough. “I wish I could have dreamed it,” she said softly, “but I never could seem to stop having nightmares about how you must have suffered when you died.”

Pain skimmed his features, but Finn’s expression quickly shuttered again. Macy suddenly realized that was what she had been seeing these last two days—he’d been hiding behind a mask.

“I wanted to let you know that I am going to stay at Mom and Dad’s for a few days,” he said. “Brodie says there’s not much at the ranch to go back to. He says the house is empty and the cattle and horses are gone. Dogs, too.”

His voice was cool, and Macy couldn’t blame him. It was just something else he’d thought he’d be coming home to. The horses had not only been his business, they’d been part of his family. He loved them; he had a gift for connecting with animals, especially horses.

When Macy had first met Finn, he’d lived alone with the stray dogs he took in on the three hundred acres of the Two Wishes Ranch. He and a grizzled Mexican named José Banda trained cutting horses. Cutting horses had once been used to cull sick cows from herds of cattle, but now they were used mostly in competitions to separate calves from herds. Macy hadn’t known any of this, of course, until Finn had taught her. And she’d learned that a good cutting horse could sell for thousands of dollars.

José had taught Finn everything he knew about training horses, and the two of them became known as some of the best trainers in the southwest, their services in high demand. They’d kept about three dozen cattle on the ranch for training purposes, and two high school kids had worked half days with them, learning the business.

But training a horse took time, and money was slow to come in. When they’d first married, Macy had just graduated from college and had secured a position as a social worker with a nonprofit agency that mentored kids in the foster care system. Her salary was laughably low, but she loved the work. She’d been good at it, and her caseload grew. It eventually got so big that she spent more time driving around central Texas than she did mentoring. It seemed like the only thing she managed was a quick check on the welfare of the kids on her list—there was no time for anything else. She didn’t feel like she was helping anyone but the oil companies.

Finn convinced Macy he needed her at home. She had a better head for numbers and bookkeeping than he did, so Macy quit her job and stayed home to keep the books. Unfortunately, that didn’t take very long. She ended up spending a lot of time hanging around Finn, watching him work.

Finn had acquired three cutters of his own, which he entered in competitions for a little extra money. Those horses had been with Finn longer than Macy had, longer than any of the stray dogs he’d taken in. It had killed Macy to sell the cutters, but there was nothing to be done for it. Even if she could have afforded their upkeep, she couldn’t care for them by herself.

When he’d left her to join the army, Finn had told Macy the ranch would take care of itself. For a few months, it had. But then the officers had come and told her Finn had been killed. And then the cattle got sick. The veterinary bills were high, even with Finn’s brother Luke providing the service and Macy paying only for the medicine. A big chunk of the death gratuity provided by the army had gone to pay bills and taxes. Macy had also received life insurance for Finn from the government, but her mother had been frantic that she would spend it all on the ranch and had made her put a chunk of it in mutual funds for her future. That was a great idea, but the market had taken a nosedive since then, and she’d lost about thirty percent of it. The two high school kids graduated, and then it was just Macy and José, and…and she couldn’t do it.

One day, under a hard Texas sun, Macy told José of her decision to shut down the cutting horse business. She’d given him six months pay as severance. She never knew if it was the heat or the news that made his eyes water, but José had said little more than “
Gracias
,” and had packed up his beat-up, boxy, old red pickup. She’d heard he’d gone on to a
vaquero
job south of Dallas-Fort Worth.

Macy looked at Finn now with all of that running through her mind and said, “I am so sorry.”

“I understand,” Finn said, but his jaw was clenched. “It was too much for you.”

“It
was
hard, Finn. It was a lot harder than I ever thought it could be. The cattle had to be fed in winter, and that year we had a drought, so we had to buy a whole lot more feed than usual, and the horses needed to be watered, and then the cattle got a respiratory disease…” Her voice trailed off. It had all started one night when she’d heard an awful howling outside. She went out and discovered one of the dogs—a big dog they called Tank, who easily weighed one hundred pounds. He’d eaten something or been bit, she didn’t know, but he was in distress. He was too heavy for her to lift, and Macy had cried and cried waiting for Luke to come. The dog had died with his head in Macy’s lap before Luke could get there.

A few weeks later when the first calf got sick, she’d felt completely helpless.

“Your dad and Brodie and Luke tried to help out when they could,” she said quietly. “But they have their own lives and Luke was opening the clinic, and Brodie had started a new job, and they couldn’t come around as often as I needed them, and then some of the cows got sick and we had to destroy some. The ranch was bleeding money and I couldn’t seem to stop it.”

“No need to explain,” Finn said.

“No, I
need
to explain,” she insisted, desperate to justify a decision that had seemed so right at the time. “I know better than anyone how much the cutters meant to you. It killed me to do it, you have no idea. I felt like I was abandoning a part of
you
.”

He snorted and glanced impatiently over his shoulder. “You mean the part of me you could remember?”

“What?”

Finn looked up; his eyes were flashing with…anger? Disappointment? “Just going back to what you said, Macy. You said I started to disappear from your memory. My hands, my feet…So when did I disappear completely? When you sold my horses?”

“That…that is
so
not fair,” Macy said, her voice low. “You are misconstruing what I said. You
never
disappeared, Finn, not for a moment. You were always in my thoughts and in my heart,” she said, pressing her hand against his heart.

He covered her hand with his, squeezed it. “Until Wyatt Clark showed up, anyway,” he said.

She pulled her hand from beneath his. “Please don’t do that. You cannot begin to understand how deeply I mourned you and how ecstatically happy I am that you are alive.” But as the words left her mouth, she realized how hollow they must sound. “Losing you hurt worse than anything I have ever felt. People would ask,
How are you coping, Macy?
and I’d say fine. But I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t coping. And I didn’t tell anyone because words couldn’t describe the pain I was feeling.”