MacKenzie Fire(9)

A door bangs open and a holler comes from somewhere on the porch. “Ian Michael Angus MacKenzie, what on earth are you doing?!”

Ian’s hand freezes in mid snow-shoving.

I spit out the mouth of snow I have and blink through the water that’s melted onto my lids. Ian’s expression is classic. Busted. Tilting my head back I can see Maeve standing at the top of the stairs. I smile past my frozen lips.

“Uhhh, hey, Ma,” he says nervously. “What’re you doing out here?”

She puts her hands on her hips, her open sleeveless down jacket flying up on both sides like moth wings. “Apparently I’m bearing witness to an assault and battery on our house guest by a savage moron whose rear end is about to become reacquainted with the business end of my kitchen spatula!”

I start giggling and singing at the same time. “You’re in trouble, you’re in trouble …”

He grabs one more handful of snow and stuffs it in my face. “It was worth it,” he whispers in my ear before standing up. He gets onto his feet with a grace I didn’t think possible with all this slippery stuff around. He heads towards his truck while he answers.

“I’m outta here, Ma. Gotta get some feed. You can beat my ass later.”

“You bet your sweet bippy I will, too. Savage beast of a boy.” She doesn’t sound all that mad anymore. More like she’s just made a promise she intends to keep.

I’m afraid to attempt getting up so I stay on my back, using the pause in the drama to clear my face of all the snow and water. My hands are pretty much frozen solid at this point.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” Maeve mutters as she walks gingerly down the stairs. “I cannot believe what I just witnessed. He’s gone completely off the range. He used to be such a gentle soul.”

I burst out laughing at that load of poo, and when she looks at me, confused, with her bun all lopsided and her superwoman vest cape flying out behind her, I can’t help it; the hysteria takes over. I’m ready to pee my pants by the time Andie comes out to see what’s going on.

“What’s she doing on the ground?” she asks.

Maeve stands there with her hand on her chest, shaking her head slowly at me. “I’m not exactly sure. Call Boog for me on the radio so we can get her up.”

“No, no, I’m good,” I say, embarrassed about the idea of some big hairy beast of a man coming to my rescue. I’ve only seen him once, but that was enough. He reminds me of a deranged wookie.

I crawl over to the stairs and use the railing to get up. Once under the protection of the porch roof and the salted ground, I can stand. I take a deep breath in and out, happy to be alive and invigorated beyond reason. It’s like I just ran a 5k or something.

“What are you wearing?” asks Andie, staring down at my feet.

I tilt one up so she can admire the embroidery. It’s only a little stained from the water. “Vintage cowgirl awesome. You like?”

She smiles. “Yes, I like. But the bottoms are way too slick for ice and snow. Come on inside. I’ve got some other boots you can use while you’re here.”

“But I like these,” I whine as I follow her in. Not only are they gorgeous, but they make Ian fall and roll all over the snow with me. These babies were worth every stinkin’ penny.

“I don’t want you to die while you’re here, so wear these.” Andie reaches into a closet and pulls out the butt-ugliest boots I have ever seen in my entire life. It would be bad enough that they look like they’re made for someone with a serious case of cankles, but they’re camouflage too. The word heinous doesn’t even cover their description.

“You cannot be serious.” I gesture towards them and then my body. “What is it about me that says dress me like a Duck Dynasty chick?”

Her gaze slowly moves over my body, starting at my soggy wet knees, sliding over my water-stained leather jacket, and ending up at my hair. She grimaces. “Um … yeah. May want to take a look in the mirror, sweetie pie.”

My eyes widen and I dash into the hallway bathroom.

The image that stands before me is my worst nightmare come true. “Oh … my … GOD!” I cannot believe what I’m looking at. This cannot be real. Is this a trick mirror from a funhouse?

My mascara has somehow made its way down to my upper lip. It’s like I’m sporting a Hitler mustache or mini-snatch on my face or something. My hair is matted to my head and the highlights that before looked like perfect sun-kissed glory now look like someone painted my head with mud. “Oh my Tiny baby Jesus.” I lean in for a closer look and then quickly lean waaaay back. No one should have to see a close-up of this disaster.

Andie steps into the doorway so I can see her reflection in the mirror. “Welcome to the country, city girl.”

I jut my chin out and swipe the mascara off my cheeks with a tissue from the box on the counter. For some reason I find it really annoying that my best friend has melded into this life so well and I’m having a hard time even looking human after just five steps in the snow. “I can hang. I’m adaptable.” I hate that she’s done so well here and I literally can’t even stand on my own two feet once I walk out the door. I always thought I was tougher than this.

She pats me on the shoulder. “Sure you are, sweetie. Sure you are. I’m going to go make you a hot cup of tea.”