Warrior at Willow Lake (8 page)

“Maci’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?” Just the mention of her name caused a rush of warmth through Hunter’s veins.

“She’s been good to Ali…to us.” Ryder nodded. “She’s pretty special.”

Rory continued to squall, his tiny cries piercing the moonlight. Ryder swayed absently, and then began to hum a lullaby.

“You’re a natural.” Hunter laughed. “Who’d have thought?”

“And you?”

“Mulling things over. I’m not so sure about the kid—or the wife—part.”

Since the afternoon in the nursery, he’d given both a lot of thought. After a few weeks of feeling as though he were moving forward, he found himself in a rut—and mired in the darkness—once again. The song of Maci’s violin drifted, and he imagined the scent of her perfume. Both brought the stark reality of the situation—he cared deeply for Maci. But if he failed to leave the past where it belonged—firmly in the past—where would it lead?

“Who do you think you’re fooling?” It was Ryder’s turn to laugh. “I think you’re the only one who hasn’t figured out just how in love you are with Maci. But you will…eventually.”

“I…” Hunter meant to deny the assertion, but reached for Rory instead. Ryder had known him long enough to detect anything outside of the truth. No sense trying to shovel Ryder something else. Time with Maci had changed him, made him long for things he’d never even considered. But Hunter wasn’t yet ready to share his feelings concerning Maci with anyone—at least not officially. “Do you want me to take him for a while?”

“Thanks.” Ryder lifted Rory from the carrier and handed him over. “I hear the violin. Maci’s started up again. Why don’t we head that way? Rory likes the music. Maybe it will work its magic.”

Hunter turned, cradling Rory to his chest as they started back toward the inn. “Does it ever scare you, holding someone so tiny?”

“Only when he needs a diaper change.”

“Seriously.” Rory was warm, his damp hair scented like musky leaves. A tiny thumb went to his mouth as he began to suckle. “It’s a huge responsibility.”

“Yes, sometimes it scares me. I haven’t enjoyed a decent night’s sleep in over a month. I don’t watch TV nearly as much, and sometimes I leave for work with spit-up on my shirt. But I wouldn’t go back to a life without my son for all the clean shirts in the world. Ali and me…we’re on this journey together, and it’s deepened our love for one another in ways I never could have imagined. Having Rory has changed everything—but in a good way. I have to be a better man now—hold a higher standard. It’s not just about me anymore. I like that.”

“I could do without the spit-up…” Hunter laughed. “But I think your son likes me. He’s already stopped crying.”

“He knows his Uncle Hunter.”

“Uncle?”

“We always were like brothers, weren’t we?” Ryder grinned. “Why should that change now? If anything ever happens to me, I need you to keep an eye on Ali, to help her, OK?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know.” Hunter nodded. “You have a son now…a family.”

A place to belong…forever.

The song of the violin drew him like a beacon along the path, making everything clear. Hunter tucked Rory in closer as he quickened his pace back toward the inn…and Maci.

****

Maci paused the bow in its glide across the violin’s strings as Hunter entered the great room of the inn through French doors opened wide along the back deck. He cradled Rory in his arms, one huge hand splayed protectively over the baby’s tiny head.

His gaze found hers and he smiled, an intimate gesture meant for her alone. Maci’s pulse stammered and for the slightest moment, a hush came over the room. Then she nodded slightly and resumed her serenade as the crowd of guests settled back in Adirondack chairs that Ali had strategically placed along the deck rail.

The night was gorgeous. A breeze kissed Maci’s cheeks, bringing with it the scent of changing leaves that signaled the waning days of summer. Soon autumn would rush in, bringing with it cooler temperatures and a festive air. Bullfrogs sang to one another along the shores of the lake while moonlight glazed the willows beyond in milky shadows.

Hunter settled against the rail as Ali approached. She handed him a baby bottle, smiling, and then left again to replenish a tray of finger sandwiches. Maci drank everything in as, mindlessly, she coasted through Beethoven’s
Romance No.2 in G major
. When Hunter pressed the bottle to Rory’s puckered mouth, his lips moving in what she was sure were gentle and coaxing words, her heart ripped in two.

He was great with children…a natural. Every time she saw him hold Rory, she knew it to be true. But she had to face facts—Hunter might love other people’s children but he’d never want a family of his own. He’d told her so that day in the nursery. Since then he’d avoided the subject. She had to respect his wishes.

Once, she’d been perfectly content to throw herself into her job and the symphony orchestra—to live a solitary life—but all that had changed when she met Hunter…and with Rory’s birth. She’d tasted, through Ryder and Ali, a life that was rich and fulfilling, one filled with laughter and love. In some ways, it had ruined her. Now, she could never settle for less.

She thought of the necklace Hunter had given her. It swayed as she worked through the piece, the bow caressing strings. She thought of his kisses, tender and sweet, that ignited emotions so powerful she wondered how she survived them.

She loved him—that much was certain.

But was it fair to stay with him—to ask for his love in return, when their differences provided little hope for a future together?

Tears marred Maci’s vision and she sniffled through the piece. Finishing, she placed the violin in its stand, nodded slightly as the crowd clapped appreciatively, and turned away to rush from the room before Hunter noticed her tears.

9

Hunter parked his pickup outside the concert hall and killed the ignition. The lot was illuminated by security lights—part of the security plan recently implemented by the city council. People skittered about, climbing the steps and entering through grand double-doors that led to the concert hall. The chill of fall whispered through the air and leaves, dried and lifeless, scratched the pavement as they scattered and danced.

Hunter rested his hands on the steering wheel and sat for a moment, sighing and wondering how everything had become such a train wreck. For a full two weeks, since she’d played for guests at the inn, Maci had expertly avoided him—failed to return every one of his calls. No matter how hard he tried to talk to her, she closed up like a vault.

She’d fled the inn that night without so much as a goodbye. She’d even left her violin sitting in its stand; Ali had returned it a few days later. He couldn’t fathom what had gotten into her. No calls…no texts…nothing.

So he’d bought a ticket to the concert. If she wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to her. He’d been patient long enough, and the patience was killing him.

Worse yet, veiled beneath the bite of anger sat the truth—he missed her.

And he didn’t even know what he’d done to set her off. But tonight he’d find out. He deserved at least some explanation.

Jaws clenched, he slipped from the cab, the concert ticket clutched in his hand. Music drifted from the hall as the orchestra played through their warm-up. Mingled among the cacophony of sound he listened for Maci and heard the captivating melody of the violins section.

He’d come to a fork in the road…one that demanded attention. He knew which way to turn. But the question remained—would Maci walk the same path or careen away…down a different road?

Hunter picked up the pace, crossing the lot to moonlit steps. Inside, he’d find his answer.

****

Maci adjusted the bodice of her gown and reached for her violin as the director gave a two-minute warning. As the soloist, she was dressed differently from the others—white satin instead of the standard-issue black rayon skirt and silk blouse. Hot stage lights—and the titter of nerves—caused perspiration to dampen the nape of her neck. The concert hall was packed for the first night of the Fall Concert Series.

“Gonna be hard to concentrate tonight.” Marianne, the youngest violinist at barely twenty-one, tossed back teased blonde hair. “Get a look at that guy in the front row, center. Isn’t he a load of eye candy?”

Maci peeked through the curtain, gasped.

Hunter.

“You’d better get seated.” Maci shooed Marianne from the curtain. “We’re about to go on.”

“Maybe I’ll find him after the concert…” She winked and ran a hand through her hair. “Looks like he’s alone.”

Yes, he was alone. Maci wondered what he was thinking, coming here.

Maci’s hands trembled as she settled into position at the front of the pit. When the curtain opened she’d be slightly stage right, in full view of the crowd—and Hunter. She prayed her heart could withstand seeing him again without shattering into a million pieces.

She missed him.

But she couldn’t risk speaking to him. It would only hurt more. She’d finish the concert and make a quick exit through the rear wing, where she’d parked her car. He wouldn’t even know she was gone.

The conductor raised his baton and a hush came over the concert hall. With a flick of his wrist, the concert began. For the next sixty minutes, Maci let the world go as she became blissfully lost in the music.

****

“In a hurry?” Hunter rounded the sedan as Maci inserted her key into the lock.

“Hunter!” The keys slipped from her hand as she stumbled, her heart pounding like a bass drum. “You frightened me.”

“Sorry.” He bent to retrieve the keys. “You should be more careful. I could be a stranger…someone looking to hurt you.”

“You
have
hurt me.” The words slipped out, and immediately she wished she could take them back.

“Whatever I’ve done, it certainly wasn’t intentional.” He tucked her keys into his pocket. “I would never hurt you on purpose, Maci. You have to believe that.”

“I…do…and I didn’t mean to say that.” She dipped her head, unable to face the disappointment that shadowed his eyes. “I didn’t say you did anything intentional. It just…is what it is.”

“You’re talking in riddles.” He raked a hand through his hair. “And you haven’t returned any of my calls. I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

“It’s late and I’m tired. I have to get home.” She held out her hand. “Please give me my keys.”

“No.”

“What?” His tone—rigid and sharp—took her by surprise. “Why?”

“You’re being stubborn.” His gaze speared hers. “Well, I can be stubborn, too.”

“That’s sure to get us somewhere.”

“We both have issues. We won’t get anywhere until we acknowledge them, and face them. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, I say things I don’t mean…things I regret. And you…well, you have a tendency to run from conflict.”

“Are you on the clock?” The words stung, because she knew they were true.

“No. Take a walk with me, Maci.” He took her violin, opened the trunk and set it inside. “Whatever’s going on here, we need to talk about it.”

“There’s no
we
, Hunter.”

“Oh?” He slammed the trunk. “Excuse me if I missed a chapter, but last time I checked there was a
we
.”

“How can there be when you don’t want a future…when you’re afraid to have a family—to fall in love?” Her voice rose and her heels clacked as she paced the pavement. A breeze nipped at her bare shoulders, causing her to shiver.

“Is that what this is about, Maci? Is it the reason you’ve avoided me for two solid weeks? He shook his head, his jaw tight. “We had one conversation on the subject of kids…of a family and that makes you an expert on how I feel—what I feel? You should have talked to me…
we
should have talked through this. It’s the only way to solve what we’re facing.”

“And what if it can’t be solved? What if we’re just too different to work through this?”

“What if we’re not?” He turned, but not before she saw pain from the bite of her words in his deep, brown eyes. “What if there is a solution?”

“Wait. I wanted to talk to you. It’s just…” She was suddenly ashamed as words she’d told him only weeks ago echoed in her ears.

“I love you. I’m not going to run.”

But she’d done just that. Suddenly she realized that perhaps she should take a look in the mirror. Was she scared, too?

“Just what?”

“Just that you’re right. I do have a tendency to run. I’m not proud of it.” Tears spilled over to slip down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Hunter. I’m done running. I don’t want to run from you…from what I feel for you. It’s so much, so full, and I just don’t know what to do with it. I love you.”

“Oh, Maci.” He turned back and took a step toward her, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “Yes, I’m afraid to lose someone again. That much is true. But I’m not afraid to love…because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“You have?”

“Yes.” He leaned in for a kiss, but she lifted her hands and splayed them to his chest. “What do you
want
from me, Hunter?” The words were raw with emotion. “What does that
mean
?”

“It means I want you.
All
of you.” He took her hands in his, warming them with his gentle touch. “I want us…forever. When I saw Ryder with Ali and Rory, I knew it could happen for me—for us—despite the past and our differences...our fears. They gave me hope, and now I want it all.”

“All?”

“Yes.” He drew her close, kissing her gently before cradling her head to his shoulder. “I want to jumbo size it…
all
of it. I want the picket fence, the dog, the van…a child.”

“And a wife?”

“Only if that wife is you.”

“You’d spend your life—
share
your life—with a shrink?”

“A music therapist…a very talented and compassionate music therapist.” His lips urged hers to respond, and he sighed when she wrapped her arms around his neck. “And I can’t imagine spending another moment of my life
without
you. Being apart from you these past few weeks—not seeing you or hearing your voice—has made me crazy. I have missed you more than I could ever have imagined.”