Read The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie Online
Authors: Bonnie K. Winn
The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie (17 page)
In quiet accord, they got in line for the tram. Heart thudding, Brynn tried to act as though being touched by an exciting man was an everyday occurrence—even though that man was the brother of her supposed husband. The complications of it made her head throb.
Then they were on the tram, the alpine terrain dropping away beneath them. As the view unfolded, Brynn sucked in her breath. Although she’d seen the area, she hadn’t viewed it from this vantage point.
“It’s magnificent,” she breathed, forgetting her nervousness.
Matt’s eyes weren’t on the breathtaking expanse of mountains. “Yes, it is.”
Her heart thudded dangerously in its caged barrier. For an insane moment, Brynn wanted to confess everything, to plead for his understanding. But then her very surroundings struck her. He believed in permanence, family, the honest tradition of the land. Brynn could imagine his face if she told him the truth.
Feet dangling in the open air, Brynn opted to enjoy the ride, the company...and the interlude. Miranda was right. They wouldn’t last forever.
Chapter Twelve
M
att studied the contractor’s proposal, loan information from three banks, prospectus folders from potential investors, and his accounting firm’s cost projections. No matter which way he sliced it, there would be no expansion without heavily mortgaging Eagle Point.
att studied the contractor’s proposal, loan information from three banks, prospectus folders from potential investors, and his accounting firm’s cost projections. No matter which way he sliced it, there would be no expansion without heavily mortgaging Eagle Point.
Suppose he did and revenues fell, or his father needed additional expensive surgery? At one point the possibility of a heart transplant had been discussed. Since their insurance carrier still termed the operation experimental, should Frank need a transplant, it would be costly. And ready cash had to be available.
It was a crushing decision, one that could buoy Eagle Point permanently, or send it into a downward spiral they might never recover from.
And in the midst of the papers he studied was a brief fax—one that outlined the latest round of discussions regarding Gregory’s release. Between all the double-talk and posturing was the barest scrap of truth. They knew no more now than a month ago. Matt had really believed he had made progress on this last trip to Washington. Apparently, it had been a pretense intended to mollify the family. However, Matt was feeling anything but mollified these days.
Matt had already made nearly a dozen calls that morning, hoping to uncover more information. And each call had been a dead end. His college friend in the State Department had squeezed every possibility, cashed in every favor, and sidestepped regulations to cull each new piece of information. And still nothing.
In his gut, Matt believed that Gregory would be all right. But logic told him the longer his brother was held, the slimmer his chances were.
Glancing out the huge picture window that dominated his office, Matt remembered earlier times—days when he and Gregory had shared every path; walking side by side through school, sharing childhood hopes, dreams and fears.
Only thirteen months apart, he and Gregory had been like twins, each knowing the other’s thoughts. And the sixth sense and intuition of their formative years was still strong. Strong enough that Matt believed he would know instantly if something had happened to Gregory. Something that would keep him from returning...permanently.
But that sixth sense hadn’t kicked in. At least not negatively. But as time had passed, Matt wondered if his intuitive connection to Gregory had faded.
As adults, they no longer shared a single vision. Even when they were teenagers that vision had splintered, sending them in different directions. Gregory had been driven toward an Ivy League education rather than a state university as Matt had chosen.
After college Gregory hadn’t come home, instead parlaying his Harvard degree and the contacts he’d made there into an astounding corporate springboard. Matt knew Gregory hadn’t chosen to live in Salt Lake in order to remain close to the family. Rather, through astute networking, he’d landed a plum job at one of the richest, fastest-growing firms in the country. The fact that their western office was located in Salt Lake had been a coincidence. Gregory would have preferred living in New York City, but as long as his career continued to climb, he would have moved anywhere. Rooted in the land, Matt couldn’t understand his brother’s disdain and it had pushed them in opposite directions.
Had those directions been so far apart that he and Gregory were no longer closely linked? No longer sharing an intuitive spirit?
Matt didn’t want to think so. He hated to even acknowledge the possibility. But there it was. Glaring at him. Mocking him. Questioning him.
What was he doing coveting his brother’s wife? Feeling like the bad half of Cain and Abel, Matt finally understood one of the things that drove wedges into families. It was something he’d despised and had assumed would never happen to the MacKenzies.
Even if he said and did nothing, allowing Gregory and Brynn to continue on without any detours, the wedge would be there. Growing deeper and wider. He knew he couldn’t watch the two of them without wishing Brynn was his.
Voices rose in the corridor. With ski season approaching, the entire staff was in full gear as preparations got under way. Even from the insulated privacy of his office he could hear the increased hustle.
Yet he was restless.
It was one thing to study documents and papers from the insular security of his office. It was another to make the decision while standing on the very land he risked.
Grabbing his keys from the desk, Matt unhooked his leather jacket from the coat-tree and headed outside. He easily spotted his truck in the parking lot and headed in that direction. As he neared the vehicle, he slowed his steps. Curved hips and long, slim, denim-clad legs were bent over the bed of his truck—distinctive legs that could belong to no one but Brynn, especially since her dog and cat were on the ground at her feet.
He approached quietly. “While I appreciate the view, I can’t help wondering what you’re doing.”
Lancelot growled, then relaxed, his tail wagging. Startled, Brynn swung the upper part of her body up, her head twisting around to stare at him. “Hi,” she offered awkwardly.
“Hi, yourself. Can I help you with something?”
“Bossy decided to go exploring. He’s in the back of your truck and he doesn’t want to come out.”
“He’s an unlikely hitchhiker,” Matt replied. “And with his mouth he’s liable to get us both in trouble.”
“You were going somewhere?” she questioned. “Of course, why else would you be in the parking lot?” She leaned back into the bed of the truck, affording him quite a view. Lancelot stretched up on his short hind legs, clearly wanting to help.
Although Matt could have watched Brynn all day, he didn’t think his hormones could take it. Walking around to the cab, he opened the door, then reached inside to slide open the air vent in the rear windshield. “If you can get him to jump through here, it’ll be easier to catch him.”
Brynn narrowed the space the bird was roaming in, forcing him toward the back of the bed. With a squawk, Bossy flew toward the open vent. Pleased, Brynn jumped down from the back of the truck and rushed toward the cab. As she opened the door, Lancelot ran between her legs, jumping into the cab, as well. As Brynn climbed into the cab, Snookems meowed plaintively.
Standing outside, Matt leaned his forehead briefly against the roof of the truck. Then he lowered his head and spoke through the partially opened window, knowing instinctively that he had wanted to seek her out; that it would be easier to make the decision about the resort while she was standing at his side. “Put the cat inside, too, and they can all go for a ride.”
“Really?” Brynn asked uncertainly. “They’re a handful.”
“I could use some company.” Matt glanced at the mini menagerie with skepticism. “They weren’t quite what I had in mind, but there’s plenty of room where we’re going.”
Brynn scooped up Snookems, then tried to settle all her animals down. Lancelot agreeably curled up on her feet. Snookems chose her lap and Bossy continued to stare at Matt in challenge.
“Sorry about Bossy,” she explained. “He’s...well...bossy.”
“So I see,” Matt muttered, starting the truck and putting it in gear.
“Drop dead!” the bird ordered.
Matt resisted a comeback, instead quickly pulling out of the parking lot, ignoring Bossy’s continued insults. Knowing the route he wanted to take, Matt quickly maneuvered the back roads of the resort, heading upward. While snow already covered the upper peaks and mountaintops, he knew of one grassy knoll that wouldn’t yet be blotted out by early snow. The grass would be yellow, the aspens nearly bare, but he would be able to walk the land, feel the crunch of the earth beneath his boots.
It wouldn’t be long now before the major storms started dumping on the mountains. It had begun snowing in September at the highest points, but now the weather would soon blanket the entire mountainside, even dipping into the valleys.
Brynn seemed to sense his mood, quietly petting her animals, stroking the nearly blind cat until she purred contentedly. Even Bossy quieted, although the bird kept his gaze fiercely on Matt.
The four-by-four competently climbed the last dirt road up to the meadow. Although he knew the landscape well, Matt stared at the magnificent backdrop, knowing he couldn’t bear to lose this land.
Far above, trickles of crystal-clear water slowly turned to torrents that rushed down the cliffsides. And Matt knew that once he left the truck he could see the falls that water created, plunging down the mountainside, then crashing through a narrow box canyon. It had been a spot he and Gregory had claimed as their own hole-in-the-wall outlaw hideaway as kids. But Gregory had quickly outgrown childish games...and dreams.
After parking, Matt turned to Brynn. “This is where we get out.”
“The end of the road. Literally.” She glanced around the secluded area as Lancelot and Snookems wandered through the grass, sniffing. Bossy hopped behind them as though marshaling his charges. “We could be the only people in the world up here.”
He studied her in surprise. “That’s how it usually makes me feel. That’s why I like it.”
“You running away from someone in particular?” she asked, swallowing a premonition as she spoke.
Matt searched her eyes, but knew he couldn’t confront that problem right now. “More a something than a someone.” Tucking his hands in his back pockets he walked toward the edge of the meadow.
Brynn followed him. “Problem?”
“I have to decide whether to commit to the entire expansion project.”
Puzzled, she cocked her head. “I thought you were already committed to that.”
“In theory, absolutely. But I have a lot of things to consider. We’ll be tying up all of our liquid assets and Dad might need more surgery. Expensive surgery.”
“Can’t you set aside funds for that?” she asked. “Ones that aren’t figured into the business accounts, ones that can’t be touched if anything goes wrong?”
“A medical trust?” Matt asked, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it himself.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure about the terminology, but money that’s legally separate.”
“It might work,” he replied slowly.
“You don’t sound as though that’s all that’s worrying you.”
“Do you know why this is called Cache Valley?” he asked, not directly answering her.
“No.”
“Back when it was first discovered, the only people who lived here besides the Indians were mountain men. It was the land of the Shoshoni and the explorers—Jim Bridger and the other scouts who came after him. It was too cold and desolate for families to think about settling here.” Matt stared across the wide chasm of the cliff. “In the late 1820s, 1830, it was the era of the Rocky Mountain Fur Trade. And this area was the crossroads and camping ground for almost every mountain man that ever fought, trapped and traded in the Rocky Mountains.” Matt gestured toward the unforgiving land. “It was a rugged life for rugged men. They valued the area because they thought it was a good place to ‘cache’ or hide their furs and supplies.”
“Cache Valley,” she murmured. “It fits.”
“But Gallagher MacKenzie saw more than cold and isolation. It was 1830 and he stood here—in this meadow—looked across that mountain and knew it wouldn’t always be a hideaway.”
“He had vision,” she guessed.
“Incredible vision. It’s prime real estate now, but then...” Matt shook his head at the thought. “He staked a claim when others passed it by, eager to get to California and the land of milk and honey. Farther than you can see, it’s MacKenzie land—and has been for eight generations, almost nine.”
A faraway expression lit Matt’s eyes as he continued. “I told you once it didn’t come without a price. It was a harsh place to raise a family. And when the first MacKenzie to think about turning it into a resort took his life savings and built the original ski lift by the dell, everyone thought he was crazy. But he took the risk, defied the odds.” Matt laughed at the memory—the story told to him since he’d been old enough to sit at his grandfather’s knee. “Who would pay to come up a mountain and then slide halfway down?”
“But they came,” she said softly.
“Yes, they came and Eagle Point was born. Even though Gallagher MacKenzie didn’t predict skiing, instinctively he recognized the value of the land.” Matt gazed into the distance. “Eagle Point has the same appeal Telluride does—it’s far enough away from civilization for people to feel they’ve left it behind.”
“But most people won’t recognize that as an asset,” she murmured.
“No.” And most people didn’t have her astute grasp. “When times have been bad, the family’s been faced with parceling off some of the land but they never have. Even during the Depression they hung on when other places gave up and sold out. And during good times when it would have been easier to live comfortably from the profits, the money was reinvested into Eagle Point, always improving it, making it better, ensuring the future of the coming generations.”
“Which is why it’s so successful today.”
“The original lodge is the main core of Eagle Point but it’s more than six times its initial size.”
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