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Authors: Barbara McMahon

Tags: #romance, #family, #contemporary romance, #rancher

Bluebells on the Hill (19 page)

BOOK: Bluebells on the Hill
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'Oh, Mandy, girl. You're so soft and pretty,'
Mac whispered against her ear as his mouth feathered kisses along
her cheek, to her throat, down her neck.

She smiled dreamily at his words, eager for
his mouth to return to hers.

The shrill, strident ring of the telephone
shattered the afternoon stillness.

'What the hell is that?' Mac growled,
startled. He pulled away abruptly.

'My phone. I just got it today.' She sat up.
'I guess I should answer it.'

'Yes, I guess you should. Did you have to get
the model with the loudest ring?'

Amanda smiled and lithely rose, moving
quickly into the kitchen. The ring was harsh in the drowsy
afternoon. Could she adjust the loudness?

'Hello?'

'Hi, Mandy, Dave here.'

'Hi.'

'Your furniture left a few days ago. Should
arrive in Timber later this week. They have your address, and
directions, but don't know you have a phone, so don't wander off or
they might dump everything in the front yard.'

'I'll stay close. Thanks for checking for me,
Dave.'

'No problem. I'll talk to you soon.'

Amanda replaced the receiver and turned,
eager to rejoin Mac. He was standing in the doorway, an inscrutable
expression on his face. Gone was the tender look she had seen in
his eyes only moments ago. He had already re-buttoned his shirt and
tucked it back into his jeans.

'Do yourself up. Someone's coming.'

Amanda's eyes widened. She quickly moved to
refasten her jeans and shirt. She could hear the gravel in the
driveway crunching. Who was it? John-Michael? She moved to see. Mac
remained squarely in the doorway, blocking her way.

'Another time, hmm, Mandy?' he said gently,
reaching down to lightly brush against her lips.

'I hope so,' she said frankly, giving a small
smile against her disappointment. It had been a heady time; still
the phone had been a lifesaver if she was really having another
visitor now.

A soft knock.

Amanda opened the door to Elizabeth
Burke.

'Good afternoon, Mandy. How are you?'

'Hi, Miss Burke, come on in. Your nephew’s
here.'

'I know, I saw the truck. Hi, Mac.'

'Aunt Elizabeth. Did you worry I wouldn't
pass on your invitation.?'

'Don't be silly, dear boy.'

Amanda hid a smile, darting a quick glance at
the 'dear boy'. A less likely looking boy Amanda couldn't
imagine.

"No, I decided to discuss part of the program
for the festival with Mandy prior to the meeting.'

'That's my cue to leave, then. I'll see you
Mandy. Tuesday, if not before.'

'Thank you. And ... thanks for stopping by
today.'

'My pleasure.' His eyes on her mouth.

She licked her lips as he passed to leave,
disappointment flooding through her. It had been wonderful; she was
sorry he was leaving.

Elizabeth Burke sat primly on one of the
dining chairs, nodding to her nephew as he left.

'I wanted to get this cleared up, my dear. I
hope I'm not coming at an inopportune time.'

'Not at all. Would you like some lemonade?'
She remembered asking Mac the same thing only a short time ago.

'Not today, thank you, Now, did your group
agree to come, too, to sing in the festival?'

'Yes, they’ll arrive that morning. I think I
heard you say the entertainment wouldn't start until after noon. Is
that right?'

'Yes, around two. usually. That gives
everyone time to eat and be finished so they can then devote full
attention to the performance. After the show, there are games, then
a huge barbecue and fireworks after dark. A local high school group
will play music at dusk for those who want to dance. We make do for
that, but always try for a more professional group or troupe for
the main feature. I do hope you will be able to handle it.'

Elizabeth frowned and added fretfully, 'I do
wish Mac would come, or at least permit John-Michael to attend.
They both miss such good events each year.' She shook her head.
'Well it can't be helped. Now, we need about an hour's
entertainment; is that too long?'

Amanda smiled. 'No problem. We’ve played
large audiences before and usually do fine. I sing country songs,
did you know that?'

'Oh, my dear, that will be splendid! It's
very popular in Timber. The rock music doesn't seem too much in
demand these days, except for some of the teenagers. Now, if you
need anything, loudspeakers, costumes, whatever, do make a list for
the committee. We’ll do our best to get what you need.'

Briefly Amanda thought of their traveling bus
loaded with a dozen or more costume changes and thousands of
dollars worth of electrical equipment.

'We have all we need,' she replied. 'We'll
just need access to a power source.'

'Of course. A large audience won't worry
you?' Miss Burke looked concerned.

'No, we have played before large groups
before.' Audiences larger than the entire town of Timber.

Elizabeth nodded, satisfied. 'Well, I guess
that covers it. If you want to set up your equipment early, the
stage should be finished by ten or so. It's portable, you know, and
we erect it each year for the festival.' She rose. 'I look forward
to our meeting on Tuesday. You'll have a chance to meet the others
working on the festival and we’ll get an overview of the entire set
of activities so we can see how the day will go.'

'I look forward to it, too. I'll see you next
week.'

As Elizabeth backed her car out, Amanda again
marveled at the way the entertainment was set for such an important
event in the little town's social calendar. No audition, no
contract, just a fond great-aunt's acceptance of a high-school
boy's evaluation of a new neighbor. How did they know she really
could sing? That she was any good? That she could be counted on? It
certainly was a different way of handling a gig than most she
experienced.

On the other hand, she never had question
John-Michael on how long he'd known who she was. Maybe he'd known
before suggesting her to his aunt.

Turning from the door when Miss Burke left,
Amanda's eyes alighted on the cushions, now stacked neatly against
the wall. How far would things have gone had the phone not rung,
Elizabeth not come by? Amanda questioned if she would have drawn
back or not. She hugged herself with loneliness, wishing Mac were
still here. It seemed a long time until Tuesday.

***

Mac sounded the horn Tuesday morning. It was
not necessary; Amanda had been watching for him for over half an
hour. She opened her door even as the horn still echoed, running
lightly down the shallow stairs and climbing into the truck. Her
hair was again pulled back, the tinted glasses in place. Her jeans
were new and still dark blue, the cotton top informal but not too
casual.

'Good morning,' she said brightly. She gave
him a warm smile, not letting the disappointment she had felt the
last few days show. She had not seen nor spoken to Mac since he
left after Elizabeth's unexpected arrival. She had waited each day,
but nothing from Mac Mackenzie. He knew she had a phone, but no
calls.

'Morning,' he replied, setting the truck in
motion. He did not speak again and the ride continued in silence.
Mac finally broke it only when Elizabeth's home came into view.

'I'll pick you up in a couple of hours. That
should be enough time.'

'Fine. Thanks.' Amanda got out as soon as he
had stopped the truck, slamming the door and going to the house
without a backward glance. Blow hot, blow cold. What made the man
tick? She was upset he continued to be so difficult to get to know.
And she wanted to so much.

Elizabeth Burke had the meeting well
organized. All points she wanted covered were listed out on papers
she gave everyone. She was firm in keeping the discussion firmly on
one point at a time. The concessions committee reported its area
under control, with plenty of Cokes, beer, hot dogs, hamburgers and
chips being brought in for the townsfolk who didn't want to bring
their own food to the festivities. Ron Haversham was in charge of
games. He reported them well in hand: horseshoe setups would be
ready by ten; volley-ball nets up then as well. Softball was
scheduled for after the singing event.

Amanda reported that she had a band that
would be coming for the festival and would be

bringing their own equipment. She gave a
list of songs she thought she’d sing, leaving several slots open to
be filled that day with songs that were her special trademark. No
sense, if they didn't require it, in letting them all know who she
was. Time enough later. But she felt more confident now and, if the
exposure came early, it wouldn't matter so much. There was mild
speculation about the band but, when the crafts committee spoke,
the interest faded. A large number of townspeople were bringing
handicrafts to sell at the festival and booths would be set up
early to catch the first arrivals.

Elizabeth distributed a list of participants,
schedule of events and contact phone numbers. Everyone dutifully
added Amanda's number when she informed them she now had a
phone.

'The festival should be a resounding success
this year, and we can all be proud of our contributions.' Elizabeth
closed the meeting. 'I will be in touch with each of you as the
need arises, but see no call for another joint meeting.'

Amanda looked for a clock. They had been less
than the two hours Mac had estimated. Not that it mattered, she
could easily wait out front, it was a pleasant day. When she left
with the rest of the committee, however, she was surprised to see
the gray truck parked across the road, in the shade.

Though her heart gave a leap of delight to
see him, Amanda tried to school her features to remain as impassive
as Mac's. With a small shock, Amanda realized she loved this
bitter, disapproving man. She wanted to spend time with him, bring
a little happiness to him if he would let her. To show him that
another one cared for him, for his well being, and happiness. To
share her time with him. With a rush of affection, she saw he was
watching her cross the road, his eyes following her, his manner and
actions speaking louder to her than his words ever had. She smiled
as she climbed into the pick-up.

'Meeting done?' he asked, starting the
engine.

'Sure is, the festival plans are in full
swing now. It sounds like fun. According to Elizabeth, everyone
will be there.' Amanda looked at him as he kept his eyes on the
road. 'Are you and John-Michael coming? Can I have a ride?'

Mac shot her a quick look, deep lines of
disapproval etched in his face.

'We don't go.'

'Why not?' Dangerous ground.

"We don't go to the festival.'

'Well, come this year. I won't always be at
them, this may be my only time. You can hear me sing.'

Amanda noticed how his hands tightened on the
wheel, till the knuckles were white. His jaw was clenched, his
mouth tight.

She sighed and turned to look out the window.
Were the memories still so painful for him? Could he not let the
past go? What chance would she ever have against the errant Liza
Mackenzie?

As the driveway drew near, Mac seemed to
relax a little. 'Want to come up for lunch?' he asked.

Surprised, Amanda agreed.

'It is so incredibly beautiful up here,' she
said when they reached Mac's place. 'There is a sense of peace and
serenity you don't find in many places.'

'I know.' He looked at her a long moment,
then led the way into the house.

'Come into the kitchen.' He walked through,
Amanda following.

The modern kitchen was surrounded by large
windows giving access to the view. The far end of the room was the
dining area, with large, sliding glass doors leading to the
deck.

Amanda kept silent, afraid if she said more
about the view he would think she was gushing.

'Roast beef okay?'

Mac was drawing things from the
refrigerator.

'Fine.' She moved to stand by him, helping a
little as they made the sandwiches; he got the soft drinks.

They ate at the table, talking desultorily at
first. When hunger had been satisfied, Amanda asked him about the
town of Timber, how it came to be, how long his family had been
residents. He spoke of the difficulties raising a kid on his own.
She asked questions about growing up in Timber and then found
herself being asked similar ones when the topic moved on to her
growing up in Colorado.

They skirted some issues, Mac's marriage,
Amanda's career. Yet she still felt they were communicating, were
drawing closer. Or was it only wishful thinking on her part?
Perhaps one day soon they could trust each other enough to discuss
even the delicate issues they avoided this day.

Amanda realized they were spending the
greater part of the afternoon still at the table, that Mac probably
had work to attend to, but she wasn't going to bring it up and end
the pleasant exchange. It wasn't often they could meet and talk
without setting off sparks.

The conversation veered to her house, Amanda
mentioning that her furniture had arrived and she would be painting
the walls to spruce up the place some more.

'It’ll be a big job, though, so I'm putting
it off a little.' She smiled.

'I remember when the rooms in this house were
painted five years ago. It's a big job, but all walls need
repainting sooner or later.'

'Yes, I guess. I haven't seen all of your
house. May I?' Amanda asked. The living room she had seen, now the
kitchen. She knew John-Michael's bedroom was off the living room,
but the rest?

'Sure. This is the kitchen.' Mac rose and led
the way back into the living room. Opening John-Michael's door, he
stood aside so Amanda could see the room. John-Michael had posters
over most of the walls: rock stars, the one of the WWE’s Raw
champs, one of Evel Knievel's daring jumps. It was remarkably tidy
for a teenager's room, she thought.

BOOK: Bluebells on the Hill
2.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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