When it hits me.
Mack’s instructions before he rode off.
‘Don’t go until I get back….’
It’s as if he’s growling the words in my ear as I let out a gasp of realization.
How dumb am I? He told me not to leave…so what the hell am I doing? Getting on a plane just because someone rushed me to it?
The relief washes over me, and I politely smile at the guy holding the boarding gate ribbon open, so I can get through before turning on my heel.
If Mack wants me to wait. Then I’ll wait.
I can’t leave him, and I won’t. No matter what happens. He said I’m his and he’s mine. How could I forget it?
So, I wait.
And I wait some more.
A million things swimming through my mind once I miss my flight, knowing I really am stuck here now.
And how does Mack know I haven’t left for good?
How will he even know where and when to find me?
It all swims around in my mind until I feel sick.
Doubting myself all over again as I slump down into a plastic chair, wincing and then smiling when I feel every bit of my insides reminding me who was there last night.
The airport seems empty now. All the flights for the day are gone, and once the sun dips low in the sky, I can’t help wondering if I’m just making a bigger fool of myself.
Heading for the exit, almost shaking my head for even listening to my mom, I wonder again how Mack would find me.
If he’s even looking.
But something in me makes me stop. And right as I’m about to leave through the huge glass sliding doors, I feel a familiar tingle in my belly.
That magic feeling I had before I even saw the man.
I turn slowly, feeling the thick thread of something tugging at me playfully. Like an invisible line joined to something pulling me back in. Rescuing me from water that’s too deep.
Mack’s frame casts a long shadow that reaches mine. And feeling my eyes mist up for the right reasons this time, I let out a cry of relief.
Running into his arms as he takes sure and strong steps. Scooping me up again and holding me so tight I can only rasp his name.
“Oh, Mack!” I sniff. “I thought…I wasn’t…,” I babble, not sure what to think or say anymore.
But Mack doesn’t say a word.
He only presses his mouth over mine. Long and hard. His hands gripping me like a man who knows what he wants and he’s not going to let it go.
Not for anything.
Picking my bags up with one hand and carrying me all the way out with the other.
I know I should’ve just listened to him the first time.
But I’ll never leave him again. Not ever. Not even for a minute.
“C’mon, cowgirl,” he drawls, finally saying something once he’s helped me into his truck. “Let’s get you home where you belong,” he rasps, smiling.
Looking as relieved as I know I feel now.
“Oh, mare and foal are going to be fine,” he adds, already answering my question before I even ask it.
“That’s great news,” I smile, feeling the tears of relief still warm on my cheeks.
“Let’s go home,” I echo back to him. “Where we both belong.”
EPILOGUE
THREE WEEKS LATER
Mack
“I know it’s your kitchen, Mrs. Corbett. But I’d just like to prepare something special of my own. For Tina,” I smile down at her.
Thumbing the little box she gave me earlier, making sure it’s still snug in my pocket.
“And what’s wrong with my cooking?” she retorts with feigned offense as I pretend to shoo her away, but really, it’s the closest thing to a hug she’d allow.
She pauses in the door long enough to squeeze my arm, winking at me.
“I’m just sorry Bo and Emily aren’t around. Seeing you two so happy would make them pleased as punch!” she exclaims, a streak of silver at the corner of one eye.
“I’ll scoot, don’t worry. But just mind how ye go with me pans!” she warns me before disappearing into the dim light of the old homestead.
It’s two weeks tonight since Tina and I… Since we….
It’s an anniversary of sorts, and I’m making the effort to do what I probably should’ve done on our first date, if that’s what you’d call it.
I’ve laid out the family silver in the dining room, and Mrs. C’s been good enough to help unpack some of the old lace tablecloths and napkins.
As well as helping me unearth something extra special I never knew about.
The candles are lit and there’s a crackling fire. Nobody else for miles around, so tonight’s all about Tina.
I’ve made our meal, Tina’s favorite.
Spaghetti. And it’s almost ready to serve. But somehow, even the sight of food isn’t doing much for me.
My guts filled with nerves.
The good kind.
Stirring the pot of meat sauce, I don’t hear her come into the kitchen. But feeling Tina’s arms wrap around my waist makes me jump, which is not something I’m in the habit of doing.