Page 24 of One Summer Day (Prosperity Ranch 1)

“No.” Her voice was quiet, almost still.

Taking out a water bottle, he closed the fridge before turning around.

She was watching him.

Holt opened the water bottle and drank half of it down. “You’re up late.”

“It’s my only alone time from Ruby,” she said. “Normally, I work on my jewelry, but I’m pretty tired—although for some reason, I can’t sleep.”

Holt leaned against the counter. Sitting at the kitchen table, even across from her, would be too close.

“You’ve had a big day,” he said. “Might take a while to get your mind to shut off.”

Macie nodded but didn’t respond.

Holt finished off the water bottle, then slipped it into the trash beneath the sink.

Macie suddenly stood from the table, and for a half second, he expected her to say goodnight, then leave. Instead, she walked toward him and stopped next to the sink.

Folding her arms, she faced him. “What was Knox like growing up? I mean, this ranch is amazing. Your parents are hardworking folks. Your family says grace, the men clean up after dinner, your dad is a sweetheart to Ruby, your mom runs herself ragged caring for everyone else when she’s battling cancer—” She bit off her words abruptly.

Tears tracked down her cheeks, and everything in Holt’s body propelled him forward to take her in his arms. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t allow himself to react, or he didn’t think he’d be able to let her go. Besides, Holt couldn’t read what was going on between Macie and Knox. And he didn’t think he could ask. Maybe he didn’t want to know the truth. Were Macie’s tears because she missed Knox?

Holt exhaled, then said in a quiet voice, “Knox was a live wire right from the beginning. As far back as I can remember, he was a daredevil, always with something to prove. Got him a lot of attention, and the more attention he drew, the crazier the stunts.”

Macie nodded and wiped at the tears on her face.

“It seemed that all through elementary school, he was grounded more times than he wasn’t,” Holt continued. “By the time my sisters were born, my mom was busier than ever, and watching over Knox and Lane became my responsibility for the most part.”

Macie bit her lip. “That doesn’t seem fair to you. You were a kid, too.”

Holt shrugged. “Comes with the territory of being the oldest kid of a large family.”

“I wouldn’t know much about that,” she said. “It was just me and my mom as long as I can remember.”

“What was she like?” Holt asked, curious, and wanting to steer their conversation away from Knox.

“She was really creative,” Macie said. “She ran a tailoring business in our house. I remember I’d go to bed and she’d be up sewing, and when I’d wake up for school, sometimes she’d still be sewing. I don’t know how she did it all. Of course, it wasn’t until she got cancer that I fully appreciated everything she did for me.”

“That’s how it is for most of us,” Holt said. “We don’t appreciate what we have until it’s gone.”

Macie’s eyes flitted over his face, then away. “I don’t want to live like that. Not anymore. I want to savor what’s right in front of me. Not go chasing after the stuff that doesn’t matter, you know?”

In other words, not do what Knox had done. And was currently still doing. Is that what she meant? Or was she regretting her divorce?

Her eyes were back on Holt, and it was both disconcerting and only made him more curious about her. “You’re a great mom, Macie.”

She turned away then, and he was pretty sure another tear slid down her cheek. He didn’t mean to make her sad, or whatever she was feeling. But again, he couldn’t exactly comfort her.

“It’s been really hard,” she whispered. “So, so hard. Yet, amazing and exhilarating, too. I never thought I could love another person so much.” She released a slow breath. “She’s everything to me.”

Holt’s body wasn’t listening to his brain. He lifted his hand and moved the hair that had fallen over her shoulder. He brushed it back, then let his hand rest on her shoulder for the briefest of moments.

“Ruby’s lucky to have you,” he said in a low voice.

She closed her eyes, and he slid his hand away. Then, because guilt had reared its head, he stepped back.

“Goodnight, Macie,” he said before walking out of the kitchen. He didn’t wait for her answer. And maybe she didn’t reply. He’d never know.

---