Whistlin' Dixie (Tempered Steel Book 1) (9 page)

Mac came around the driver side and got in. The sooner he got rid of Miss Flashy Pants, the better. He felt like a deer being stalked by a wolf all evening, but short of being downright rude and possibly losing a chance at funding the marina project, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He managed to fend off her hands and her less than subtle propositions. When it become clear that he wasn’t interested, she had the gall to try and use the project as leverage. When that only produced an expression of disbelief from him, she had subsided into her fit of sulks, drinking steadily throughout their dinner and continuing to pass him slight innuendos.

And the clincher of it all was he still didn’t know whether her father was going to fund the project.
Contract or no contract, I should have let Chance handle this one. No doubt about it.
Mac glanced at his now sleeping client. Her red lips were open slightly. He wiped his own with the back of his hand in an attempt to rid himself of her lipstick.

Talk about bad timing.
He had almost made it to the car when Christina had turned in his arms and pressed her greedy lips to his. He’d endured the sloppy kiss while at the same time tried to extricate himself from an embarrassing situation. He had pulled back as soon as possible. But it had been too late.

He had spotted the diminutive woman as he lifted his head. Peering over Christina’s shoulder, his blood ran cold as he noted the light blonde hair visible under the other street lamp. The woman’s face had been in shadow for only a second, then with a slight movement forward, the streetlights had bathed her features in perfect light. Dread washed over him as he murmured her name. Her wounded expression had made him wince. Dixie had obviously seen everything and drawn her own conclusions. He had started to follow her to explain, then Christina had groaned, and he had been forced to help her into his truck.

“As soon as I get rid of you, woman, Dixie and I are gonna talk. She is going to believe me,” he murmured as he gunned the engine and roared into the night, heading for Christina’s hotel.

Jamie said Dixie had a volatile temper and he remembered vividly her explosion in his office. It had led to their first passionate embrace. Well, her anger was worth the effort if the outcome would be another example of the recently released passion she had found his arms. Mac smiled to himself. They would fight, but then they would make up and everything would be just fine. He could hardly wait to get started.

Jamie looked up from the book he was reading as Dixie walked into the house. One look at her face and he was taking her in his arms. “What happened? Are you hurt? Was there an accident?” While he was questioning her he was running his hands up and down her arms checking for broken bones.

Dixie pushed out of his arms. “No, nothing like that. I just want to lie down. I’m sorry about dinner. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Fix yourself something, okay?” 

She walked through the house like a zombie, closing her door softly in his face.                     

Once inside her bedroom, the tears spilled over once again as she flung herself on the bed and cried her heart out.                         

She heard a pounding on the front door. “Dixie, open up. I know you’re in there. Let me explain,” Mac said forcefully as he continued to knock.

“Dammit, Dixie, open up. I’m not leaving here until you talk to me. I’ll make so much noise the neighbors will call the police. Do you hear me Dixie?” he roared.

She heard Jamie open the door. “I don’t know what you did, but you better fix it. She’s in her room crying her eyes out,” he groused.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Jamie, but your sister misunderstood a situation she found me in tonight and I’m here to clarify it. Now get out of the way.”

“You gave me the benefit of the doubt, so, I will do the same for you. I suggest you both calm down a little. My sister has a horrible temper and between the two of you, I feel like the house is gonna explode. Take some advice from a person who knows. Let her rant and rave until it’s out of her system, and then explain things to her. Otherwise, you’ll just be wasting your breath.”

Dixie heard Mac just on the other side of the bedroom door. She wanted to run and hide. She needed to lick her wounds and come to grips with what a fool she had been to trust Mac and his kisses. She didn’t want to listen to reason. She was hurting too badly and nothing he could say or do would erase the picture indelibly printed on her mind of him in the arms of another woman.

So when Mac knocked softly on the door minutes later, she turned a deaf ear to his plea. “Dixie, please let me in. I want to explain what you saw,” Mac whispered.

Oh my God! Did he think she was blind? Or just plain stupid? Or so deeply enamored of him that she was gonna let this stand?

“I saw what I saw. I took biology. I know all about sexual reproduction. Please leave.” She was privately amazed she was able to carry on any kind of conversation with the two timing jerk. She congratulated herself on how collected she’d been, considering her temper was threatening to erupt again.

Knocking again a little more forcefully, he pleaded. “Dixie baby, please open up. You didn’t see what you thought you saw. Please. Just let me explain.”

“I may be young, but I’m not stupid. And I am most certainly not blind,” she snapped at him from the other side of the door.
The man was unbelievable.

“
You are the most infuriating bit of baggage I have ever encountered
.
If I didn’t care for you so much, I’d leave right now and never look back.”

“You call that caring?! I call it a line of crap! The only thing you cared about begins with an “F” and ends with me losing my virginity
!” Oh, God! Had she really just shouted that?

Pounding on the door with his fist, he shouted, “Dixie Harris, you open the door this minute, or I’ll break it down!”

“Then I’ll just have you arrested for breaking and entering. Sort of ironic, don’t you think?” she countered sweetly. She felt like crying the Mississippi River because he broke her heart, but she was not going to let that arrogant pain-in-the-ass know just how much she was hurting. She had her pride!

“Fine. Just fine. I should’ve known better than to get involved with a little girl, anyhow. Maybe, in a few years, when you grow up and if you have apologized nicely, I might just take you back! And bring a damn soapbox to stand on. My neck’s getting sore from looking down at you!” he snarled. After giving the closed-door another good pounding, he stomped out of the house, slamming the front door.

“Oooooh!” Dixie’s eyes narrowed to mere slits and her hands balled into fists as Mac’s last remark registered with the banging of the screen door. It was like pouring gasoline on a bonfire. She was out of her bedroom and on the front porch in seconds. Heedless of the people walking down the street, she advanced like a mad woman across the yard, screaming. “Apologize to you? When pigs fly, you Mississippi River rat. I wasn’t the one caught fornicating in the parking lot of the local pizza parlor. Hell will freeze over before I apologize.”

Mac saw her coming out on the front porch, and he started toward her, but the smugness left his face, however, with each shouted word. By the time she was finished with her tirade, Mac’s eyes were tempered steel and his face was set granite. “Well, the Devil better get ready for a heat wave, baby, because I feel the same way.”

He hopped in his truck and with a squeal of tires, he was gone.

“On the whole, I think that went pretty well,” Jamie commented as he walked up behind her to watch the disappearing headlights.

“Oh shut up,” she snarled and fled back to her room, weeping once again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Weeks went by and days grew warmer. Mac did as he promised and picked Jamie up in the mornings and dropped him off in the evenings, but Dixie made sure she wasn’t around. She knew she was being stubborn, but every time she thought about calling Mac, the picture of him in the arms of another woman intruded, and she felt the pain of betrayal as a fierce fire in her heart.

Her curiosity about the mysterious vandal who continued to plague the construction company was a good excuse to pump Jamie for information about Mac, though. He was more than happy to discuss anything about the Coalsons, including their concerns that the vandal would increase his mischief by targeting not only Coalson Construction, but also the Coalson farm and orchard. People came from all around the area and across the river to pick apples, strawberries and peaches, to sample the hometown recipes and play the many old-fashioned games that made the Coalson family orchard one of the best in the area. The family thought it would also be the perfect place for a vandal to strike.

“Hey, Dix,” Jamie enthused. “Did I tell you, Mac’s mother, Ginny, hit upon the idea to open a general store on the premises. Last year, the men converted an old apple barn into a store. It has knickknacks, specialty candies, and country crafts with the antiques common to the pioneer period. She’s even got handmade quilts decorating the walls alongside the antique farming machinery. An old-fashioned soda fountain and dessert bar is going to be located upstairs in the hayloft. But right now, it’s housing the offices for a security team. We should go sometime.”

Dixie got up the nerve to visit the orchard after school the next day, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mac, or maybe even talk to his family. Unfortunately, the orchard was closed for the season as the professional looking gentleman in the Security T-shirt informed her. Peering at the upstairs windows of the old farm house, she pictured Mac as a teen climbing down the nearby trees and out of the house.
No doubt meeting some girl as he kept another patiently waiting for his call.
And that made her think she was fooling herself if she believed Mac would be patiently waiting for her. He wouldn’t have any problem replacing her; hell, they were probably lined up and panting. Cursing her hot temper yet again, she turned the car around and headed home.

As she headed down the drive, she noticed Hank Coalson in the far field, his arm around his wife, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. Her eyes misted. They were such a loving couple. And great parents. They had brought up seven boys, teaching them by example to be responsible adults. Although all the brothers dated frequently, according to the town gossip, none of them had a special woman in his life. And a few still lived at home, although technically, they lived in the bunkhouse.

Memories of her grandfather and their happy little family came to mind, and tears fell as she recalled his loving guidance. She was homesick. That was all. Maybe it was time to think about moving back.

As she headed home, her cell phone rang, and she took note of the number, reminding herself to return the call once she got home. Her heart had done a little leap, just a tiny skip, in the hopes that maybe it was Mac calling her.
Surely to goodness all of this heartache would end soon.
She walked in the house, dumped her purse on the recliner and poured herself a glass of white wine. That’s when she spotted the note Jamie had left.

Hey Sis,

Decided to catch a movie with some of the guys in town. Don’t wait up.

Looking around the empty house, Dixie decided she needed to get out. Sitting here pining for Mac wasn’t going to ease her heartache any time soon. She remembered the phone call from earlier and hit the voicemail.

“Hey Dixie, it’s Jane. I was wondering if you’d be interested in attending an aerobics class with me tonight. I don’t want to go by myself.” Jane Hartley was the first person to welcome Dixie into town and had given her the idea about applying for the kindergarten teaching position. She was a friend. But still…

“Yuck! The last thing I want to do is run around to ear shattering music while a maniacal Barbie doll tells me to work it harder, work it faster,” she mumbled back to the phone as she hit Jane’s number. “Hey Jane! I’m not so sure I’m ready for the whole leotard thing. Can’t I just meet you after for a drink?”

“Please come! I’ve promised one of the mothers that I would attend her sessions and I can’t back down. I’ll look like a total wimp. It won’t be so bad,” Jane wheedled.

Dixie sighed. “Oh all right, even though the last thing I want to do is exercise. Well, maybe the second to last. The last thing I want to do is stay home and think about Mac.”

“Absolutely! It’s time to get up and get moving! On to bigger and better men!” Jane cheered.

“I won’t leave this house until you promise not to go all crazy cheerleader on me,” Dixie threatened.

Jane laughed. “I promise for tonight. But anything goes starting tomorrow!”

Dixie groaned then hung up. An hour later, she was wiping sweat off her brow and thinking about Mac anyway.

Panting to the count of eight as she struggled with a seemingly unending series of stomach crunches, she mumbled to Jane. “The only reason we count to eight is because she probably can’t count any higher.” She was in a bad mood and this definitely wasn’t helping. The instructor continued to count effortlessly. The beautiful, long-legged brunette wasn’t even out of breath and barely sweating.
Of course, Barbie dolls don’t sweat. She was probably exactly Mac’s type.

“I hate to break it to you, Dix, but not only can she count, she’s a professor at Principia College. An economics professor.” Jane groaned as she got to her feet for cool down. “And worse than that, before you came on the scene, she had been dating Mac.”

Oh, that’s just peachy.
Dixie frowned at her friend. “You couldn’t tell me that sooner?”

Tall, thin, graceful and smart.
How do I compete with that? Not that I’m trying. She can have him. Was she the one with him that night?
Dixie reached for her toes as tears blurred her eyes. She wasn’t going to think about it, but she couldn’t help studying the instructor with new eyes.

You are a masochist, Dixie Harris. You like pain. Otherwise, you would have left as soon as you found out who she was. Better yet, you should have never come here in the first place. Shoulda, woulda, coulda, but didn’t. It’s the story of your life
!

After class, Dixie hurried to gather her things and leave, hoping the instructor wouldn’t notice, but no hope there. She detached herself from the group and walked over to Dixie. “Hello,” she held out her hand. “I’m glad you could join us tonight. I’m Clarisse Van Dorn.”

Dixie took the proffered hand, noting the long, perfectly manicured fingers and soft skin. Nothing at all like her short fingers and blunt, polish-free nails. “I’m Dixie Harris.”

Clarisse smiled. “I know. You’re the woman who has Mac jumping through hoops.”

Dixie turned red. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. Mac and I are merely acquaintances. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Dixie made to go, but Clarisse blocked her path.

“Don’t worry. Mac and I were nothing more than a casual relationship at best. I think it’s great he’s found someone he truly cares for.”

“He hasn’t, I mean, I’m not,” Dixie stammered.

Clarisse chuckled. “Don’t give up now, girl. Mac’s a hard headed man. He needs someone to stand up to him when he gets out of line. He also needs someone to teach him to laugh. And I bet you’re just the gal to do it.”

“Well thanks for the advice, but I am afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree. We’ve never even been on a date,” Dixie admitted with a shrug.

“So? My husband ran over my dog. That’s how we met. We married three weeks later.” A shadow passed over her eyes. “I still miss him every day and it’s been five years.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?” Dixie murmured in sympathy. She couldn’t help but touch the woman’s hand in comfort.

“He was killed in a plane crash in San Diego.” Clarisse shook her head and changed the subject with a smile. “Anyway, I want to see you at the next session.”

Dixie groaned. “I don’t know. I’m not sure my, er, ego can take it. “

“You’re a lot stronger than you look. Not many people, man or woman, would have the guts to stand up to Mac Coalson and call him a fornicating Mississippi River rat.”

Dixie turned beet red and Clarice gave her a small nod. “Honey, it’s a small community and you weren’t exactly whispering. Now don’t get all upset. You’ve given this place something to talk about besides the flood damage. Rumor has it there’s even a wager going on down at Montana Max’s saloon as to who’s going to give in and apologize first. I think I’ll bet on Mac. And when he does, honey, you make him grovel. It’ll keep them in line for years.” With a wink and a wave, she was gone.

Dixie sat down hard on a nearby bench. People were wagering on her love life. Was nothing private in this town?

The next evening Dixie was clearing away the dinner dishes when Jamie suggested a drive along the bluffs. “There’s this neat house that Mac and his brothers built. It’s just a few miles from his place. The people backed out of the deal when the vandalism started. Mac’s kinda worried about it since it’s still unoccupied. It’s got to be a prime target for the vandal. Anyway, I thought if you are serious about settling down here, maybe we could look into it.”

By a house near Mac?
Just the other day she was wondering if it was really the smart thing to do to stay in this town. She wasn’t sure she could even stand the emotional pain of being in the same place with him.
But to live near him?
That would be insanity. Nevertheless, she allowed Jamie to drive her up the bluffs into the woods beyond.

As they crested a hill, she could just make out a roofline in the distance. Wildflowers graced the sides of the gravel driveway leading up to the most beautiful log home Dixie had ever seen. Sensing her enthusiasm, Jamie stopped the car and they hopped out.

The house itself was a two-story log structure situated on a beautiful lot. In the distance you could catch glimpses of the river below. But unlike large city subdivisions, the lots in this wooded area were sold on ten acre tracts, so each home had lots of privacy.

The spectacular flora and fauna of the woods provided a beautiful backdrop to the home. The large front porch spanned the entire front of the house with small tables and rockers scattered about, perfect for relaxing on a warm summer evening. As she rounded the back of the house, she noticed the back wall to be made entirely of windows with the deck separating the two stories.

The house reminded her of Grandpa Harris’s cabin, and she felt the pang of homesickness wash over her once again. How she wished he was here to hold her and help her through this horrible problem. “This is beautiful, Jamie. I can’t believe no one wants to buy this. Let’s talk to the bank in the morning. I want this house.” She turned to Jamie with a smile on her face and the most enthusiasm she had felt in weeks.

Jamie reddened at his faux pas and hastened to explain. “Um, this isn’t the house for sale, Dixie. This is Mac’s house. I just wanted to stop in here first to show you how cool it was. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to mislead you,” he finished softly.

Dixie closed her eyes and hung her head. It just wasn’t fair. Not only did another woman have the man of her dreams, he lived in the house of her dreams. Slowly, she made her way back to the car, and Jamie silently drove back into town, the vacant house forgotten.

That night she dreamed of Mac in his house and his children with laughing gray eyes and coal black hair. She tossed and turned until she admitted to herself that she was, indeed, in love with that house and the dreams that it offered.
Almost as fast as I fell in love with the owner.
No matter what he had done, she was still in love with Mac. Love had sneaked up on her, just like Grandpa Harris had said it would - only it wasn’t the most wonderful feeling in the world. Grandpa had lied.

It hurt.

She glanced at the phone, willing it to ring, wondering how she could have fallen in love so quickly, especially with a man who obviously didn’t feel the same way about her. He hadn’t even cared enough to call and admit he was wrong.

Well at least he hadn’t cared enough to continue to call after I hung up on in the first five times. Apparently a man of Mac’s character can only take so much rejection.

Who’s side are you on, anyway?

I’m for whichever side will allow me a decent night’s sleep. Now, pick up that phone and call him. Let him explain. Apologize and be happy. You get your man, your house, and your dreams and I get some sleep!

What if he doesn’t want me anymore? I’m a lot to take. I’ve got a horrible temper. What if I’ve pushed him into another woman’s arms?

What if you didn’t? What if he’s just as miserable as you are? Would you rather spend the rest of your life crying yourself to sleep over what might have been?

Dixie cringed at that statement. An endless life of pain because she was scared of being rejected? Was it better to cry at night but cling to that bit of hope - or to face it head on and deal with the consequences?

All right. I’ll call him in the morning.

Why don’t you call him now?