Exquisite Acquisitions

Ten

Macy sat in Riley McCay’s small, tidy kitchen, the only room in the tiny house that looked kept and clean. Two rooms off the parlor were boarded up from the recent fire, and every so often a draft of hot air would bring the scent of charred wood into the room.

“I apologize again, miss, for scaring you the other night. I swear to the almighty, I didn’t know anyone was staying at the place. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

The man looked sincerely contrite, and Macy saw Carter’s younger image on Riley’s weathered and beat-up-by-life face. He was graying at the temples and wrinkled from excessive abuse to his body, but Macy held hope for him. And suddenly she understood Carter’s frustration and anger with his father. His dad was the one person Carter couldn’t save.

“Mr. McCay, I’ve accepted your apology. But you should have spoken with Carter and tried to reason with him instead of breaking into the inn.”

He gestured with a wave of his hand. “I wasn’t planning on breaking in. I know a secret way onto the property, and I take me a visit every so often. Then it started storming real hard. I got mad as hell being locked out of that place and all. It should have been mine in the first place, but my son decided to get bullheaded. Damn it.”

He worked himself up in anger, and Macy sat back in her chair, uneasy. Rocky sat at attention by her side, and she laid her hand on his back, stroking him gently.

“I’d like to help you, Mr. McCay, but you can’t go sneaking onto Carter’s property anymore. And you can’t take Rocky again, either.”

“I didn’t take him. He followed me home.”

“Mr. McCay,” Macy said with a stern but soft voice. “I told you about my father’s drinking problem. I’ve heard all the excuses and all the lies. You can’t fool me. You took Rocky. You have to promise me you won’t do that again.”

Head down, he shrugged his shoulders. “I miss the ole boy.”

“You miss Carter.”

His eyes flashed. He began to shake his head in denial, but Macy looked straight at him, refusing to let him get away with anything but the truth.

Riley backed down and sat in silence.

Macy reached across the table and laid her hand gently on his arm. “If you want to see Rocky or your son, all you have to do is call Carter.”

“That boy doesn’t want to see me.”

“He would, if you started acting like his father. Maybe you could-”

A car pulled up and Macy lifted her head to peer out the window. It wasn’t Henry or Bill Fargo. Darn. It was Carter, and he wasn’t out for an afternoon stroll. He bounded out of the car and barged straight into the house through the unlocked door. His eyes blazed hot fury when he saw her sitting at the kitchen table with his father. His voice tight, he spoke through gritted teeth. “Macy, damn it. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Riley rose from his seat, unbending his body to stand as tall as Carter. “Now, boy. Don’t you go talking to Macy that way.”

Carter ignored his father. He glanced at Rocky by Macy’s side and his jaw twitched. Normally, the dog would have raced over to him, tail wagging, sniffing at his boots. But Carter’s sharp tone kept the dog frozen in place. “I’m asking you, Macy. What are you doing here?”

“I’m having a glass of tea with your father.” She tipped her chin.

Carter glanced at the empty table and arched a brow. “Really? Are you acting it out? Because I don’t see any tea.”

“I was just about to get the pitcher out,” Riley said. “Why don’t you sit down a spell?”

Carter looked at his father as if he’d sprouted wings. “For tea?” He kept his anger in check long enough to say, “I don’t think so.”

Riley frowned and took his seat, folding his arms. “Fine with me,” he said stubbornly.

Carter focused on Macy again. “How’d you get here?”

Mara had driven her across town under slight protest until Macy had explained it was all in her plan to get Carter and Riley speaking again. It turned out that Mara was an old softy at heart, so she’d agreed for both the men’s sakes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” His face burned with recrimination.

Macy sucked in a breath. She wouldn’t let him bully her, though she had a sinking feeling her idea was going down faster than a pinpricked balloon. She looked straight at him and shook her head.

Carter stared at her a long time. Then he blinked once as if banking his anger. “Let’s go.”

Macy rose from her seat, fearful she’d gotten in over her head. She’d never seen Carter behave so hurtfully. She braced her hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward to make her point. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, Carter. I’m staying to have iced tea with Riley.”

Something flashed in his eyes. “Fine. You stay if that’s what you want. Rocky comes home with me.”

“He’s my dog.” Riley’s voice rose in indignation.

Carter clenched his jaw, his impatience almost tangible. “You lost your right to him, Dad. You almost got him killed. I can’t prove that you took him, but I know you did. Don’t ever do it again.”

Carter changed his tone when he crouched down and called to Rocky. “C’mon, boy.”

Rocky got up and ambled toward him. The poor dog looked confused, but once he reached Carter he was lavished with a few loving pats on the head and all was peachy in dog world.

Carter strode to the door and then turned to Macy. A shiver ran up her spine from the cold, unyielding look he cast her. “I’ll send a car for you in an hour.” He glanced at the threadbare kitchen, the masked filth in the other rooms along with the broken furniture. Then on a deep frustrated sigh, he walked out taking Rocky with him.

Macy watched him get in the car and pull away. She slammed her eyes shut and was hit with a hard dose of reality.

She hadn’t helped matters. She’d probably just made things worse.

Carter was nowhere around when she returned to the house. Soft, late-evening light cast her bedroom in relaxing hues, and the hot, humid air had finally cooled down a bit with the help of the air-conditioning, but Macy wasn’t feeling calm or comforted at the moment. She still believed that Carter’s relationship with his father could be saved, but she might have gone about trying to fix it in the wrong way. Judging by the look she’d witnessed in his eyes when he’d walked out of Riley’s house, Carter thought of her as a traitor.

He was the last person she’d ever want to betray. Macy had his best interests at heart, but she may have overstepped boundaries in trying to help.

“You blew it, Macy,” she said to herself.

She should have taken Bill Fargo’s advice.

Consider the consequences.

Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be feeling so miserable right now.

She glanced at the large manila envelope sitting on the top of the dresser and let out a quiet groan. She’d been deliberately ignoring it since the darn thing had arrived. She should open it, she really should. But going over more legal mumbo jumbo didn’t appeal to her at the moment. It reminded her too much of losing her mother and the financial mess she’d been in. It reminded her too much that she didn’t really belong at Wild River. She wanted to pretend a little longer that she did.

She sank down on her bed, feeling lonely and heartsick and not at all ready to face the night by herself. When her cell phone rang, Macy snapped her head up and looked toward her purse sitting on her nightstand. Only a handful of people knew her number. She rose from the bed, grabbing her phone from the deep recesses of her handbag, and before the third ring, peeked at the screen. She smiled when she saw the call was from Avery. She was just the friend she needed to talk to tonight.

“Hi, Av,” she said. Her shoulders relaxed. Tension oozed out of her the second she heard Avery’s voice on the other end of the receiver.

“Hello, Macy.”

“Oh boy, how’d you know I needed a friend right now?”

“I guess because I need one, too. We must be on the same wavelength.”

“Usually that’s a good thing,” Macy said. “But, it doesn’t sound like you’re too happy right now. What’s the matter?”

“I’m a little upset. It’s nothing too drastic, but there’s this persistent man-”

“Already, it sounds interesting,” Macy said. Avery had led a sheltered life. She could use a little excitement, whereas Macy had the opposite problem. Her life was anything but boring. “Go on.”

“No, no. It’s not anything like that. He’s an art expert and quite smooth, if you ask me, and he’s been calling, trying to persuade me to sell my father’s impressionist art collection.”

“Really. Who is he?” Macy asked.

“His name is Marcus Price. He’s from Waverly’s.”

“Oh, wow. I’ve met him. Ann Richardson introduced me to him during our negotiations for my mother’s auction. He’s pretty dreamy looking, if you like tall, confident men with attitude.”

“I’ve spoken with him once,” Avery said. “To tell him no thank you, but he keeps calling. I’m dodging his calls and emails.”

“Would you ever consider selling, Avery?”

“No. I won’t even think about it. That collection is the only thing I have left of my father. He was the only one in my family that showed me any love. I adore those paintings because they were his. He nurtured them and added to the collection year after year. I can’t…I truly can’t part with them.”

Macy had the impression that Forrest Cullen hadn’t been the kind of father that Avery needed. He’d been distant at best, though he loved her and now, her dear friend was clinging to his memory with an art collection that her father had treasured.

“Well, if you’re adamant about it,” Macy advised, “why not meet with Marcus Price one time to give him your answer in person? Trust me, you’ll appreciate his good looks. And you can make your position crystal clear to him.”

Avery hesitated then released a deep sigh that carried over the receiver. “Maybe, I will. Thanks for listening. So, tell me, what’s happening over there with your Wild River cowboy?”

Macy wasted no time launching into an explanation of the latest events of her life, including her misguided attempt to help bring Carter close to his father. “I’m sure I’m not Carter’s favorite person right now. And, Av, he’s been so good to me while I’ve been here. We’ve…gotten closer.” Macy paused. The image of his stone-cold expression when he’d walked in and spotted her at his father’s place flashed in her mind. He’d seen it as a betrayal, plain and simple. “I might have ruined everything.”

“Maybe not. Why not talk it out with him?”

“Carter is pretty stubborn. I don’t think talking is going to work. Not this time. And he’s told me before…uh-” Macy cringed as she revealed the truth to her friend “-that it’s none of my business.”

“Then apologize to him. If he’s a good man, he’ll accept it.”

Macy couldn’t apologize to Carter. She still felt she was right. Carter shouldn’t give up on his father. But she was afraid that, by pressing her point, she’d destroyed their budding relationship. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something, Av.”

After she bid her friend goodbye, Macy sat on her bed, deep in thought. Her frank conversation with Avery made her realize how deeply she cared about Carter. Aside from finding him sexy and gorgeous, she liked him. More than she’d liked any other man who had come before him. While living at Wild River, she’d managed to keep her emotions on an even keel. Barely. Because she didn’t really believe in love anymore and because Carter McCay owned the Love Curse Diamond. He’d already fallen victim to the bad fortune that ring symbolized, and Macy would be a fool to think a relationship with Carter would turn out any differently.

While her heart said other things, her mind steadied those thoughts with practicality. She wanted to be on good terms with Carter during her time here. She wanted to finish the project she’d started and see it through to the end. She didn’t want an argument about Carter’s father to taint her days here at Wild River.

She was going to fix that.

Soon.

The pool was cool and refreshing against Carter’s skin as his arms sliced through the water with even, steady strokes. Moonlight reflected on the water’s edge. He took a deep breath and ducked his head, swimming with finesse and efficiency. He’d mastered the technique from swims in Wild River as a young boy. Back then, it was all for fun, a way a poor boy had to enjoy himself on a hot summer day. He and his friends would jump off tree branches that overhung the rushing river. They’d yell and holler and hoot with laughter, sometimes egging each other on, sometimes daring each other.

Nowadays, swimming wasn’t so much recreational as it was a means to an end. He swam laps to burn off excess energy. He swam laps when he needed to clear his head for business. And he swam laps to simmer down his rising temperature.

Carter’s temper had skyrocketed this afternoon when he’d found out Rocky had disappeared. After speaking with Fargo, Carter had gone straight to his father’s house, certain the dog would be there. And he’d been right, but he hadn’t expected to find Macy there. That had come as a complete surprise. If Fargo knew Macy was there, he’d given him no indication.

Macy wasn’t held hostage on the ranch-she could go wherever she wanted-but butting in to his personal affairs was another matter, and she’d crossed a line today. He was angrier at her than he was at his father. Why in hell was that? And why in heaven’s name did he feel so damn betrayed?

Macy had good intentions, he reminded himself. But his anger didn’t ebb. Instead his strokes became more deliberate, more intense as he cut through the water.

After a good thirty minutes in the pool, Carter climbed the steps and got out. Water dripped from his body as he reached for a towel on the chaise longue. The midnight air was cool against his heated body, his pulse beating hard from the vigorous swim. He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist then headed inside the house.

Macy should be asleep by now, he thought. It didn’t stop him from pausing behind her bedroom door. He sighed heavy and shook his head. He wasn’t ready to forgive her. He wasn’t even close. Part of him hadn’t wanted her getting involved in his dealings with his drunken father, and another part of him hadn’t wanted Macy to see how shabbily he’d grown up. Shame and humiliation were difficult things to overcome. Even though Carter had become successful and wealthy, that house and that man represented a scarred and painful childhood. He hadn’t wanted Macy to witness that. To see how pathetic his young life had been.

He forced himself to move on, to take the steps that led to his own bedroom. Once inside, he showered and put on his boxer briefs. Climbing into bed, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Maybe, by the grace of all things holy, there would be a taped-delay baseball game on.

Five minutes later, a soft knocking sounded on his door. He clicked off the television, rose and went to the door. When he opened it, Macy stood before him in a tight spandex skirt and a sheer white tank top. It was sexier than a thousand-dollar silk negligee. His heart pounded and raw desire bolted through his system. He took a swallow and looked into her gleaming violet eyes. They glistened with so much emotion, he couldn’t turn away.

He offered his hand, palm up, letting her make the choice. “It’s just about sex tonight, Hollywood. I’m still madder than hell at you.”