Page 21 of Mack

He had a feeling he wasn’t going anywhere.

Chapter Four

Sunday morning Mack entered the barn before the sun was fully up, the air inside still and cold, smelling of hay and horses. He hadn’t slept well. Every time he’d closed his eyes he’d seen them. Mallory in her kitchen doorway. T.J. patting the cushion beside him without looking up.

He went to the tack room, lifted his saddle, and carried it to Slate’s stall. The horse pressed his nose against the rails and snorted.

“Yeah, I know it’s early.” Mack set the saddle over the rail and began getting him ready. “I need to clear my head.”

Slate tossed his head.

“It’s a woman.” He smoothed the saddle blanket across the horse’s back. “Her little boy too.” He shook his head slowly. “They’re something.”

The horse stood patient and still, which Mack had always appreciated about him.

He led Slate out of the barn and mounted, nudging him forward into the cool morning air. The sky was pale gray at the edges, the mountains just beginning to catch the first light, and the frost on the grass crunched under the horse’s hooves as they crossed the yard and headed for the north pasture, letting Slate set the pace at first, an easy walk while the horse warmed up, while Mack let his mind go where it wanted.

It went straight to Mallory.

He’d known women who were beautiful. He’d known women who were smart, capable, and worth knowing. Ariana had been all those things, right up until she wasn’t. But there was something about Mallory Nichols that was different and he was having trouble putting his finger on exactly what it was.

It wasn’t just how she looked, though that was its own problem. It was the way she ran her shop with quiet competence, the same way she sang like the room didn’t exist, the way she’d blurted out that she had a three-year-old son like she was bracing for a blow. That last one had stayed with him. The set of her shoulders when she’d said it, waiting.

Someone had taught her to wait for the worst, and he knew who. It didn’t take much to figure it out.

He nudged Slate into a trot, then a canter, the cold air sharp in his lungs. The mountains were turning gold at their peaks now, the sky shifting from gray to pale blue above him, and he leaned forward in the saddle and let the horse run.

This was what he needed. The ground moving under him, the wind, the wide-open space of it. No walls, no ceiling, nothing to close in on him.

He rode the fence line of the north pasture until Slate’s breathing told him it was time to slow, then pulled him back to a walk and turned toward home.

By the time the barn came into view his head was clearer. Not empty, he didn’t think that was possible anymore, but clearer.

He was going to take this slowly. She needed that and honestly so did he. He wasn’t going to push, wasn’t going to crowd her, wasn’t going to be anything other than exactly what he was and let her decide what to do with it.

But he was going to show up, without pressure, and he figured that was a start.

After cooling Slate down and getting him settled with fresh water and feed, Mack headed back to the house. He stomped the frost off his boots on the porch and pushed inside, the warmth of the kitchen meeting him at the door.

He started the coffee, leaned against the counter while it brewed, and looked out the window at the mountains. The sun was up properly now, the peaks sharp and bright against a sky that had turned a clean deep blue. Days like this reminded him why people stayed in Montana. Days like this made it hard to argue with his parents for holding onto the place.

He poured a cup, wrapped both hands around it, and wandered to the table. Lifting the cup, he blew on the coffee, then sipped it wondering what he could get into today.

Mack wasn’t sure if Mallory opened the shop on Sundays. He hadn’t thought to ask. But he was going to head to the diner for breakfast, and he had to drive past her shop anyway.

****

“Mama!” T.J. came running into the kitchen, both dinosaurs tucked under his arms. He wrapped himself around her legs and stared up at her. She smiled and crouched down to hug him.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Uh huh. I’m hungry.”

“Of course you are. What do you want?”

“Cocoa Puffs.”

“Alright. Up you go.” She lifted him into his chair and scooted it to the table, then set Rex and the Brontosaurus on the chair beside him where they apparently lived now.