Shine Not Burn(49)

“A ride? As in on a horse?”

“Unless you prefer a four-wheeler.” She piled up dishes next to the sink.

“I don’t even know what that is, but wheels sound better than horse legs to me.”

“We prefer the horses, actually. They don’t cost any gas money so they’re better for the wallet and the environment. And they can go just about anywhere. Some of the places I’m sure Mack would want to show you are impossible to get to any way other than on horseback.” She looked at me and winked. “You’ll miss half the fun not being on a horse.”

“I’d probably get killed if I tried to ride a horse.” The idea was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I’d always been fascinated by the beasts but never considered they’d be a part of my life. As far as I was concerned, horses were for movies and weird rodeo channels on TV.

“You’ve never ridden before?” she asked, sounding like she wouldn’t believe me if I said yes.

“I was close enough to touch one once.”

“I’m sensing a story here. What happened?”

I ran my finger along the edge of the counter and got lost in the memory of being in a barn at a summer camp when I was ten. “I remember thinking how beautiful he was. Huge. Proud or something. The person I was with told me to pet him on the nose. When I finally worked up the nerve to do it and reached my hand out, he lifted his head up in one big jerk and whinnied so loud I peed my pants.”

Maeve burst out in musical laughter. “Oh, Andie, that’s priceless. How old were you?”

“Nine or ten. Old enough to remember with distinct clarity the humiliation of having peed my pants at an age where a girl isn’t supposed to do that anymore.” I pulled my hand off the counter and put it behind me awkwardly. I felt like the girl with wet pants all over again.

She patted my arm with a soapy hand. “Not to worry. Mack would never let a mean old horse cause you to lose your water. You’ll be as safe as a bug in a rug with him there.” She handed me a wet dish. “Would you mind drying this off for me?” She gestured with her chin to a towel on the nearby counter.

I took the plate from her, frowning at it. “Don’t you have dishwashers in Oregon?”

“Sure, they have them all over, but we’re simple folk out here. I don’t mind doing things by hand. I find it relaxing.”

I rubbed the towel on the plate until it squeaked. Noticing my reflection in the white surface, I smiled. There was something to be said about doing a routine, basic task in the company of someone you enjoyed talking to. It was almost relaxing or meditative. Maeve had an easy way about her that made me feel like I could just be myself standing next to her here in this kitchen. Glancing at her profile, I wondered if she would totally hate me if I told her what Mack and I had done in Las Vegas. It made me sad to think that she might, which was silly because I’d be gone in just a day or two and then I’d never see her or Angus again. Or Mack.

My stomach clenched uncomfortably. Why did the thought of never seeing him again bring actual, physical pain? I should have been breathing a sigh of relief over it. No way would Bradley be okay with me being here, let alone spending time with a guy like Mack. My fiancé wasn’t stupid. He’d sense something was up right away. It was all part of his killer instinct … he could smell underlying emotion in others like a shark could smell a drop of blood in the water. It’s what made him such a successful lawyer; he always got to the bottom of things, even when the people he was up against did everything they could to keep them secret.

My guts churned with the realization that the chances of me keeping this whole mess from Bradley were very, very slim. I wondered if his feelings for me were strong enough to forgive me. I wondered how much I really cared, too, and that worried me more than anything else.

“In the cupboard over there, on your right,” Maeve said without looking up from her task.

I put the plate away, leaving the door open since another one was about to join it.

We stood in the kitchen doing dishes in companionable silence for another five minutes before the next comment floated out there in the air between us.

“So tell me about this research you’re doing, Andie.”

I glanced at her, but the expression on her face showed nothing but curiosity and dedication to the task of washing. She’d moved onto the serving dishes and silverware.

“Well, I was doing some research and I ran across … something that told me I might be related to a MacKenzie, so I thought I’d come out here and see if it was true.” My fingers trembled with the stress of giving her half-truths. She didn’t deserve to be lied to. She’d done nothing wrong.

“What kind of research was it, exactly?”

I decided a little more truth was in order. It was the only way I could keep on speaking; the lies were getting caught in my throat. “Well, actually, I’m getting married.”

She stopped scrubbing the pot she had in the sink before her and waited for my next words.

“I was applying for the marriage license and there was this document the courthouse came up with, so I decided before I got married, I’d come out and see what it was all about.” My heart rate had picked up, causing me to breathe faster. Any minute I was going to start sounding like I’d just run a mile if I didn’t get a hold of myself. Calm down, idiot!