Weeks went by and days grew warmer. Mac did as he promised and picked Jamie up in the mornings and dropped him off in the evenings, but Dixie made sure she wasn’t around. She knew she was being stubborn, but every time she thought about calling Mac, the picture of him in the arms of another woman intruded, and she felt the pain of betrayal as a fierce fire in her heart.
Her curiosity about the mysterious vandal who continued to plague the construction company was a good excuse to pump Jamie for information about Mac, though. He was more than happy to discuss anything about the Coalsons, including their concerns that the vandal would increase his mischief by targeting not only Coalson Construction, but also the Coalson farm and orchard. People came from all around the area and across the river to pick apples, strawberries and peaches, to sample the hometown recipes and play the many old-fashioned games that made the Coalson family orchard one of the best in the area. The family thought it would also be the perfect place for a vandal to strike.
“Hey, Dix,” Jamie enthused. “Did I tell you Mac’s mother, Ginny, hit upon the idea to open a general store on the premises. Last year, the men converted an old apple barn into a store. It has knickknacks, specialty candies, and country crafts with the antiques common to the pioneer period. She’s even got handmade quilts decorating the walls alongside the antique farming machinery. An old-fashioned soda fountain and dessert bar is going to be located upstairs in the hayloft. But right now, it’s housing the offices for a security team. We should go sometime.”
She murmured in the affirmative but silently wished he would change the subject.
Dixie got up the nerve to visit the orchard after school the next day, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mac, or maybe even talk to his family. Unfortunately, the orchard was closed for the season as the professional looking gentleman in the Security T-shirt informed her. Peering at the upstairs windows of the old farm house, she pictured Mac as a teen climbing down the nearby trees and out of the house. No doubt meeting some girl as he kept another patiently waiting for his call. And that made her think she was fooling herself if she believed Mac would be patiently waiting for her. He wouldn’t have any problem replacing her; hell, they were probably lined up and panting. Cursing her hot temper yet again, she turned the car around and headed home.
As she headed down the drive, she noticed Hank Coalson in the far field, his arm around his wife, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. Her eyes misted. They were such a loving couple, and great parents, too. They had brought up seven boys, teaching them by example to be responsible adults. Although all the brothers dated frequently, according to the town gossip, none of them had a special woman in his life. And a few still lived at home, although technically, they lived in the bunkhouse.
Memories of her grandfather and their happy little family came to mind, and tears fell as she recalled his loving guidance. She was homesick. That was all. Maybe it was time to think about moving back.
As she headed home, her cell phone rang, and she took note of the number, reminding herself to return the call once she got home. Her heart had done a little leap, just a tiny skip, in the hopes that maybe it was Mac calling her. Surely to goodness all of this heartache would end soon. She walked in the house, dumped her purse on the recliner and poured herself a glass of white wine. That’s when she spotted the note Jamie had left.
Hey Sis,
Decided to catch a movie with some of the guys in town. Don’t wait up.
Looking around the empty house, Dixie decided she needed to get out. Sitting here pining for Mac wasn’t going to ease her heartache any time soon. She remembered the phone call from earlier and hit the voicemail.
“Hey Dixie, it’s Jane. I was wondering if you’d be interested in attending an aerobics class with me tonight. I don’t want to go by myself.” Jane Hartley was the first person to welcome Dixie into town and had given her the idea about applying for the kindergarten teaching position. She was a friend. But still…
“Yuck! The last thing I want to do is run around to ear shattering music while a maniacal Barbie doll tells me to work it harder, work it faster,” she mumbled back to the phone as she hit Jane’s number. “Hey Jane! I’m not so sure I’m ready for the whole leotard thing. Can’t I just meet you after for a drink?”
“Please come! I’ve promised one of the mothers that I would attend her sessions and I can’t back down. I’ll look like a total wimp. It won’t be so bad,” Jane wheedled.
Dixie sighed. “Oh all right, even though the last thing I want to do is exercise. Well, maybe the second to last. The last thing I want to do is stay home and think about Mac.”
“Absolutely! It’s time to get up and get moving! On to bigger and better men!” Jane cheered.
“I won’t leave this house until you promise not to go all crazy cheerleader on me,” Dixie threatened.
Jane laughed. “I promise for tonight. But anything goes starting tomorrow!”
Dixie groaned then hung up. An hour later, she was wiping sweat off her brow and thinking about Mac anyway.
Panting to the count of eight as she struggled with a seemingly unending series of stomach crunches, she mumbled to Jane. “The only reason we count to eight is because she probably can’t count any higher.” She was in a bad mood and this definitely wasn’t helping. The instructor continued to count effortlessly. The beautiful, long-legged brunette wasn’t even out of breath and barely sweating. Of course, Barbie dolls don’t sweat. She was probably exactly Mac’s type.
“I hate to break it to you, Dix, but not only can she count, she’s a professor at Principia College. An economics professor.” Jane groaned as she got to her feet for cool down. “And worse than that, before you came on the scene, she had been dating Mac.”
Oh, that’s just peachy. Dixie frowned at her friend. “You couldn’t tell me that sooner?”
Tall, thin, graceful and smart. How do I compete with that? Not that I’m trying. She can have him. Was she the one with him that night? Dixie reached for her toes as tears blurred her eyes. She wasn’t going to think about it, but she couldn’t help studying the instructor with new eyes.
You are a masochist, Dixie Harris. You like pain. Otherwise, you would have left as soon as you found out who she was. Better yet, you should have never come here in the first place. Shoulda, woulda, coulda, but didn’t. It’s the story of your life!
After class, Dixie hurried to gather her things and leave, hoping the instructor wouldn’t notice, but no hope there. She detached herself from the group and walked over to Dixie. “Hello,” she held out her hand. “I’m glad you could join us tonight. I’m Clarisse Van Dorn.”
Dixie took the proffered hand, noting the long, perfectly manicured fingers and soft skin. Nothing at all like her short fingers and blunt, polish-free nails. “I’m Dixie Harris.”
Clarisse smiled. “I know. You’re the woman who has Mac jumping through hoops.”
Dixie turned red. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. Mac and I are merely acquaintances. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Dixie made to go, but Clarisse blocked her path.
“Don’t worry. Mac and I were nothing more than a casual relationship at best. I think it’s great he’s found someone he truly cares for.”
“He hasn’t, I mean, I’m not,” Dixie stammered.
Clarisse chuckled. “Don’t give up now, girl. Mac’s a hard headed man. He needs someone to stand up to him when he gets out of line. He also needs someone to teach him to laugh. And I bet you’re just the gal to do it.”
“Well thanks for the advice, but I am afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree. We’ve never even been on a date,” Dixie admitted with a shrug.
“So? My husband ran over my dog. That’s how we met. We married three weeks later.” A shadow passed over her eyes. “I still miss him every day and it’s been five years.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?” Dixie murmured in sympathy. She couldn’t help but touch the woman’s hand in comfort.
“He was killed in a plane crash in San Diego.” Clarisse shook her head and changed the subject with a smile. “Anyway, I want to see you at the next session.”
Dixie groaned. “I don’t know. I’m not sure my, er, ego can take it. “
“You’re a lot stronger than you look. Not many people, man or woman, would have the guts to stand up to Mac Coalson and call him a fornicating Mississippi River rat.”
Dixie turned beet red and Clarice gave her a small nod. “Honey, it’s a small community and you weren’t exactly whispering. Now don’t get all upset. You’ve given this place something to talk about besides the flood damage. Rumor has it there’s even a wager going on down at Montana Max’s saloon as to who’s going to give in and apologize first. I think I’ll bet on Mac. And when he does, honey, you make him grovel. It’ll keep them in line for years.” With a wink and a wave, she was gone.
Dixie sat down hard on a nearby bench. People were wagering on her love life. Was nothing private in this town?
The next evening Dixie was clearing away the dinner dishes when Jamie suggested a drive along the bluffs. “There’s this neat house that Mac and his brothers built. It’s just a few miles from his place. The people backed out of the deal when the vandalism started. Mac’s kinda worried about it since it’s still unoccupied. It’s got to be a prime target for the vandal. Anyway, I thought if you are serious about settling down here, maybe we could look into it.”
Buy a house near Mac? Just the other day she was wondering if it was really the smart thing to do, to even stay in this town. She wasn’t sure she could even stand the emotional pain of being in the same place with him. But to live near him, too? That would be insane. Nevertheless, she allowed Jamie to drive her up the bluffs into the woods beyond.
As they crested a hill, she could just make out a roofline in the distance. Wildflowers graced the sides of the gravel driveway leading up to the most beautiful log home Dixie had ever seen. Sensing her enthusiasm, Jamie stopped the car and they hopped out.
The house itself was a two-story log structure situated on a beautiful lot. In the distance you could catch glimpses of the river below. But unlike large city subdivisions, the lots in this wooded area were sold on ten acre tracts, so each home had lots of privacy.
The spectacular flora and fauna of the woods provided a beautiful backdrop to the home. The large front porch spanned the entire front of the house with small tables and rockers scattered about, perfect for relaxing on a warm summer evening. As she rounded the back of the house, she noticed the back wall was made entirely of windows with the deck separating the two stories.
The house reminded her of Grandpa Harris’s cabin, and she felt the pang of homesickness wash over her once again. How she wished he was here to hold her and help her through this horrible problem. “This is beautiful, Jamie. I can’t believe no one wants to buy this. Let’s talk to the bank in the morning. I want this house.” She turned to Jamie with a smile on her face and the most enthusiasm she had felt in weeks.
Jamie reddened at his faux pas and hastened to explain. “Um, this isn’t the house for sale, Dixie. This is Mac’s house. I just wanted to stop in here first to show you how cool it was. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to mislead you,” he finished softly.
Dixie closed her eyes and hung her head. It just wasn’t fair. Not only did another woman have the man of her dreams, he lived in the house of her dreams. Slowly, she made her way back to the car, and Jamie silently drove back into town, the vacant house forgotten.
That night she dreamed of Mac in his house and his children with laughing gray eyes and coal black hair. She tossed and turned until she admitted to herself that she was, indeed, in love with that house and the dreams that it offered. Almost as fast as I fell in love with the owner. No matter what he had done, she was still in love with Mac. Love had sneaked up on her, just like Grandpa Harris had said it would - only it wasn’t the most wonderful feeling in the world. Grandpa had lied.
It hurt.
She glanced at the phone, willing it to ring, wondering how she could have fallen in love so quickly, especially with a man who obviously didn’t feel the same way about her. He hadn’t even cared enough to call and admit he was wrong.
Well at least he hadn’t cared enough to continue calling after I hung up on him the first five times. Apparently a man of Mac’s character can only take so much rejection.
Whose side are you on, anyway?
I’m for whichever side will allow me a decent night’s sleep. Now, pick up that phone and call him. Let him explain. Apologize and be happy. You get your man, your house, and your dreams and I get some sleep!
What if he doesn’t want me anymore? I’m a lot to take. I’ve got a horrible temper. What if I’ve pushed him into another woman’s arms?
What if you didn’t? What if he’s just as miserable as you are? Would you rather spend the rest of your life crying yourself to sleep over what might have been?
Dixie cringed at that statement. Did she want an endless life of pain because she was scared of being rejected? Or was it better to cry at night and cling to a bit of hope - or to face it head on and deal with the consequences?
All right. I’ll call him in the morning.
Why don’t you call him now?
It’s three o’clock in the morning! I’m not going to wake him up.
Afraid a woman will answer?
Yes!
Dixie punched her pillow. The last thing she remembered as sleep finally overtook her was that tiny voice in her head taunting her.
Chicken.
The next afternoon, Dixie found a note taped to her car door as she was leaving the school parking lot. Peeling it off, her eyes widened as she read:
Dear Ms. Dixie, we don’t want you to be sad no more so we aksed our fokes how to fall in love. They gave us these ideas. Be nice. u r so u can skip that one. Look perdy all the time. U can skip this one to. Sleep in the same bed. Kiss and stuff. Cook good food. My dad says pies r bestis. Love, your class. PS. Gonna send this letter to mstr colsun so u can be happy. p.p.s. my big bruvr helpt us. he can rit.
Dixie leaned her head against the car door. “Good grief. Now even the kids in town are matchmaking.” Something had to be done about this. Even if she and Mac couldn’t resolve their differences, at least they could patch things up enough to be friends. No, she clarified - she knew she could never be just friends with Mac. He was the love of her life and she had to acknowledge that and find a way to fix this mess. She glanced at the letter on the seat next to her. Well, at least she had an excuse to call him.
As soon as she arrived home, she tried to contact Mac at the company office, only to be told by Dottie that he was out on the job site. She hated to leave a message on such a personal matter. Then, too, maybe Mac had instructed Dottie to deflect her calls. That depressed her. He had done that before.
Suddenly, it became imperative that she talk to Mac today to settle this matter between them. She grabbed her keys and drove to the company offices, where Chance told her that Mac had, indeed, gone out on a job, and he wasn’t expected back before late that night. With a tearful sigh, she turned away from Chance’s assessing gaze. “You can try him on his cell. Do you have the number?”
Dixie offered a bland smile but shook her head. This was too important for a phone call. It needed to be face to face. One more night and this would all be over. She would definitely see him after school tomorrow. She would apologize for jumping to conclusions and calmly ask for an explanation of what she had witnessed. Then they could air out their differences once and for all.
Hopefully, everyone in town would go back to minding their own business.
Once she decided on her course of action, Dixie felt better. Maybe Jamie was right and this was all just a silly misunderstanding. If that was the case, she knew she’d have to swallow her pride. She was tired of this silly waiting game. She wanted Mac. She wanted him back in her life, and she wanted him back in her bed. Hell, she just wanted to see him.