Read The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie Online
Authors: Bonnie K. Winn
The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie (16 page)
“You were part of the process,” he reminded her.
“So I was.”
A small silence fell between them, brimming with awareness. The music slowed, causing a subtle shifting that brought couples closer together on the dance floor. Eyes met as bodies melded.
The silk of Brynn’s dress swirled between her and Matt. As did the complicated tangle of their relationship. Smiles held resolutely in place, they turned around the dance floor, the ache of what could be resonating between them. The truth of what couldn’t be, a silent chaperon—one that refused to relinquish its grasp, or ease the longing between them.
Chapter Eleven
B
rynn entered the dining room warily, not certain she was prepared to face anyone over breakfast. Emotionally drained, she’d slept in but the restless slumber had only exhausted her more.
rynn entered the dining room warily, not certain she was prepared to face anyone over breakfast. Emotionally drained, she’d slept in but the restless slumber had only exhausted her more.
She’d considered losing herself in drawing her strip, but she couldn’t begin the day with Stephanie’s unerring sense of self. Especially since her own sense of self was blurring more each day.
To her relief, the dining room was nearly empty. Only Miranda sat at the table usually occupied by the family.
“Good morning,” Brynn greeted her, reaching for a mug, practically inhaling the brew. “I think I need a caffeine transfusion.”
Miranda laughed, looking completely rested. And something else. “Perhaps a coffee IV drip would do.”
Brynn searched her expression, wondering just what was different. “Any news about Gregory?”
Miranda shook her head. “No, but Matt’s been on the phone with the State Department for hours.”
Brynn tipped her head, studying Miranda. “You look awfully chipper after a late night.”
“Hmm.”
Now Brynn was certain something was up. Miranda was never this succinct. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s something different about you today.”
Miranda smiled into her coffee. “Funny. You’ve known me for two months and you can tell. But Frank and Ruth didn’t have a clue.”
“Then I’m right! What...” Her eyes narrowed as some of the caffeine crawled through her system and made contact. “Does this have something to do with the handsome man I saw you dancing with?”
A definite glow transfused Miranda’s features, even though she tried to make her voice sound innocent. “Edward?”
“I wasn’t introduced. Does he live in town? Or is he a guest?”
“A first-timer,” Miranda mused. “He heard about our Octoberfest from friends and decided to come this year.”
“Are his friends staying, too?”
“No. Funny thing. They all made reservations, then had to cancel at the last minute, but Edward decided to come anyway.”
“I’m guessing he’s single, then,” Brynn offered.
“Widowed. Ten years now.”
“Oh.” That was hardly a statement she could whoop over, even though it meant he was available. And apparently interested in Miranda.
“He’s nice,” Miranda said simply.
“There’s a lot to be said for nice,” Brynn offered, hoping this meant a romance was in the air.
Miranda shook her head. “Don’t make more of this than it is. He’s simply a guest. Perhaps a lonely one, but still just a guest. He needs someone to talk to. That’s usually what people seem to miss the most when they’re alone.”
Brynn guessed Miranda was an expert on the subject, but suspected she should navigate this field carefully. “Where’s he from?”
“California. At least, that’s where he lives now. But he isn’t too happy living there. Things have changed a lot in the last decade.”
“Is he thinking about joining the exodus from California?”
Miranda ran her fingers across the rim of her mug. “He didn’t say.”
Brynn wondered what he
had
said. “What sort of business is he in?”
had
said. “What sort of business is he in?”
“He’s retired now, but he owned a public-relations firm. He said he got a buyout offer too lucrative to refuse, so he sold. But I have the feeling he misses it.”
“He’s quite handsome,” Brynn commented, searching for the other woman’s reaction.
“I suppose so.” Miranda glanced up and saw the disbelieving look on Brynn’s face. “Okay, yes, I noticed he’s handsome. But as I said, he’s simply a guest. I enjoyed talking to him.” Her fingers drew a circle on the linen tablecloth. “Very much. But that’s all there is to it. You’re young and you see romance and stars everywhere.” A flicker of sadness touched her expression. “But I learned the hard way that’s not true.”
“He’s not Neil,” Brynn said gently.
Surprise etched itself in Miranda’s eyes and upraised brows. “How did you know about Neil?”
Embarrassed, Brynn met her eyes. “The trunk you sent to my room. There was a journal in it.” Miranda’s eyes widened further. “I didn’t read it,” Brynn rushed to assure her. “Not that I wasn’t tempted, but when I started to put it back, a picture fell out.”
“Neil,” Miranda confirmed.
Brynn nodded.
“Nonetheless, I’m no starstruck girl,” Miranda insisted.
“Perhaps that’s better. You’re wiser now.”
“I notice you didn’t say older,” Miranda retorted with a trace of her normal humor.
“That’s relative. If you and someone you meet—perhaps even Edward—share common interests and concerns, don’t you think you’ll recognize that better now?”
“Possibly,” Miranda admitted in a grudging tone.
Brynn thought of her own daydreams about Gregory, fantasies that no longer seemed real. Dreams that were increasingly difficult to get in touch with. Dreams that had carried her through lonely times, empty times, bringing her life a dimension it lacked. Dreams that had brought her to create a wedding album and inherit a ready-made family. Dreams that were being replaced with a flesh-and-blood man. A solid man who personified the land he loved. A man who made her laugh. A man who made her want. A man very unlike the one she’d pined for, had thought she wanted.
“Brynn. Brynn,” Miranda repeated, covering her hand. “I think Scotty may already have beamed you up.”
Brynn flushed. “I tend to get lost in my daydreams.”
“Sometimes they’re a nice place to go.”
“And sometimes it’s nice to have company,” Brynn replied gently. “If you seize the moment.”
“Are you suggesting I have a vacation interlude?” Miranda asked, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
“Not exactly,” Brynn hedged. “Just because he’s a guest doesn’t mean it has to end when his visit does.”
Miranda’s lips tightened. “In my experience, that’s the way it works.”
Brynn wondered if she could be referring to Neil. Had his family been one of several that Frank had told her about? Families that used to stay entire summers at Eagle Point? And had Neil failed to return for the Harvest Ball? A poignant, sad image rose in Brynn’s mind. If so, no wonder Miranda was so afraid to trust.
“Have I lost you to the extraterrestrial regions again?” Miranda questioned, a smile in her eyes.
“Afraid so. I’m really quite hopeless about my daydreams.” Brynn fought for courage. She wasn’t accustomed to giving anyone advice. “Miranda, have you thought about getting to know Edward? Enjoying the time he does have here? Leaving the door open to other possibilities?”
“Aha! You
are
suggesting an interlude!” While Brynn tried to protest, Miranda waved her explanations aside. “Don’ worry. I’d been entertaining the idea myself. He’ll be here for a week. And knowing that going in, I’ll be prepared.”
are
suggesting an interlude!” While Brynn tried to protest, Miranda waved her explanations aside. “Don’ worry. I’d been entertaining the idea myself. He’ll be here for a week. And knowing that going in, I’ll be prepared.”
Brynn stared helplessly at the older woman who deserved so much more. But could she argue? Based on what? Her vas experience with men? Less than half-a-dozen words into tha argument would show her own woeful ignorance.
Miranda pushed her chair back. “As they say, time’s a wasting. Don’t worry, I’m going into this with my eyes open You said it yourself. I’m wiser now.”
Brynn watched her leave with mixed feelings. While she wanted Miranda to explore this possibility, she also didn’t wan her to get hurt. Because although Miranda was wiser, she was also vulnerable. And this time she might not recover.
BRYNN GLANCED AROUND at the riot of noise, confusion, and the unmistakable air of a party. Octoberfest was in full swing Self-consciously, she fingered the full skirt, equally aware o the low neckline of her peasant blouse. Everyone else won their costumes easily, but Brynn couldn’t shed her innate lad of confidence that casually.
Still, she loved the excitement. Townspeople had arrived be fore dawn, filling the stalls they’d already set up with all kind of food, desserts and crafts. And of course the beer tasting arena was a focal point of the festival.
Grilled German bratwurst, knockwurst, and weisswurs tinged the air, making her mouth water. Having seen sauer kraut, hot potato salad, and knödel, Brynn knew she would burst trying them all.
And she’d been eyeing the dessert stalls with equal interest Richly spiced pfeffernusse cookies, strudel made of the flakies layers of dough, and a multitude of other pastries begged to be tasted.
A Swiss band played, and children ran among the many games, shrieking and carefree in the lofty alpine meadow. The MacKenzies were determined to keep the celebration festive even though they still didn’t have any definite news about Gregory. His briefcase had turned up at the local police station near the point of his capture, and the family was determined to see that as a good sign.
Strolling among the festival crowd, Brynn spotted Miranda and Edward West, her gentleman friend. Both were laughing, relaxed, and clearly having fun. As she watched, Edward placed a casual arm around Miranda’s waist. Brynn held her breath, but Miranda accepted the gesture, turning to him with a smile. Silently Brynn cheered them on, hoping Miranda could find a bit of happiness.
Although tempted to track her friend’s movements, Brynn caved in to her better sense and walked the other way, weaving among the stalls, stopping to admire handmade lace tablecloths and exquisite porcelain dolls. Then her attention was caught by a display of cuckoo clocks. Delighted by the variety of the charming timepieces, she examined several before reluctantly moving on.
As she turned from the booth, she spotted Matt. True to Miranda’s predictions he was dressed in traditional lederhosen. Strong, tanned, muscular legs filled the leather suspender-held shorts. Brynn’s mouth dried at the sight—especially since he was in charge of the old-fashioned game where contestants used a sledgehammer to slam down a marker, sending it speeding upward to ring the bell and measure the intensity of the swing.
His sleeves were rolled up, his muscles rippling as he demonstrated the sport, encouraging others to join in. Feasting on the sight, Brynn was content to watch, absorb, and appreciate.
Laughing with one of his neighbors, he turned toward her. Pretending interest in the exhibit of hand-carved pipes, she tried to look as though she hadn’t been watching him. When Brynn met his gaze, she waved casually, or at least she hoped she did.
Stealing a glance at him, she saw him turn over the game to one of the lodge employees. A few moments later, he was at her side.
“Nice pipes,” he commented. “Thinking of taking up smoking?”
Brynn tried to think of a sensible answer—any answer—and failed. “They’re very interesting.”
“Uh-huh. Have you ridden the tram yet?”
“No. I didn’t realize that was part of the Octoberfest.”
“Last chance before ski season,” he replied. “You game?”
Having told him she’d fearlessly ridden in a hot-air balloon, she could hardly confess that the tram made her nervous. Instead she steadied her smile. “Sure. Why not?”
“Let’s grab something to take along and we can eat at the top.”
Her stomach roiled, but she kept her smile in place. “Okay.”
Together they picked out a wurst fest of sausages, cheeses, hard rolls and some wicked-looking desserts. One of his employees discreetly stowed their choices in a wicker basket.
As Matt tugged her toward the stalls of local brewers, Brynn tried to ignore the ripple of reaction his touch created. In moments, she was surrounded by a mountain of confusing choices. The vendor’s discussion on hops, malts, and grains blurred and Brynn didn’t know what to pick.
“Try more than one,” Matt encouraged, pointing out the small tasting cups. “They have the beer on tap.”
Gamely, she accepted the first glass, sipping through the huge head on the small tumbler. When she took the cup away, she saw a growing smile on Matt’s face.
Reaching close, he wiped away the foamy white mustache decorating her upper lip.
As she swallowed the knot in her throat, Brynn tried to remember to smile, despite the play of long, strong fingers that stroked her upper lip, inciting a riot of other suggestions. When neither of them moved, Brynn blinked, then tried to think of something casual and witty to say.
Instead her words emerged as a croak. “I think I’ve tried enough.”
“You have?”
“Uh...yes.” She struggled to answer, his touch rendering her brain inoperable. “I’ll take the first one.”
“Of what?” he asked, his hands still dangerously close to her mouth.
“What what?” she questioned, her mind refusing to cooperate.
“The beer,” the vendor bellowed. “Did you like it, miss?”
She jerked backward as though stung. “Yes. Very much. Could I have that kind, please?”
While the vendor retrieved a bottle from the icy barrel, Matt plucked a second bottle from the display, adding it to their basket.
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