But Adele wasn’t so sure that was true. Today everything felt different. Her bestie didn’t seem the same and it wasn’t only because Mac had lost part of his arm. She had a strange feeling that he needed her help, though she wasn’t sure with what or that he would even accept it.
“So now what, Mac?” she pressed.
Exactly. Now what?
Mac had no clue. That was why he’d come to The Haven today. He’d hoped to talk to Adele’s aunts, to seek their advice about finding God’s plan for his future. The army chaplain had insisted He had one, but if so, Mac couldn’t figure it out.
“Hey, pal. Did I say something wrong?” Adele’s perfect heart-shaped face scrunched up with concern, golden brows drawn together.
“No, I’m just not sure what comes next for me. Mom and Dad have talked for years about taking a cruise to Australia. They’re hinting that I could run the ranch, decide if I want to do it permanently, while they’re away.” His eyes darkened. “I want them to go. Dad’s heart isn’t great. I know it’s the stress of the ranch. They deserve a holiday. But...”
Mac hated the uncertainty in his voice. It sounded like weakness and he despised being weak almost as much as he despised himself for not owning up to his mistake, the one that caused his accident, the one that cost...
“You don’t feel well enough to take over?” Adele frowned. “How long ago was the crash, Mac? No one told me about it or I’d have come to see you.”
“I didn’t want visitors.”
When she blinked at his harsh tone Mac forced himself to relax. Adele had always tried to fix things. For everyone. She didn’t know that what he’d done was unfixable and, if he wasn’t careful, with her intuition she might learn the truth about his accident. Mac did not want that.
“The crash happened months ago, Delly, and it was a long, hard recovery. It’s a good thing you didn’t see how bad a patient I was,” he teased, then quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, it’s your own fault you didn’t hear. You’ve been living it up in Edmonton. Everyone in town is raving about your success, Madame Chef.”
“Catering for the bigwigs and all their corporate parties was fun,” Adele agreed. “But after breaking up with Rafe—” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but there was a glint in those eyes that told Mac differently. “It was time to move on. Anyway, I want to be part of this new work at The Haven. But we were talking about you.”
“Not much to say.” Now he was the one pretending. “I lost my hand and part of my arm when I crashed because I took stupid, reckless chances. I deserve what I got.” Dave didn’t. He shook off the guilty despair that always hovered. “At least my brain still works. Mostly.”
“Stop doing that, will you?” No surprise, Adele wasn’t buying his pretense. “We’ve been friends a long time, Mac. Even though we’ve been out of touch for a while, I can still tell when you’re not okay. Tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“Bossy as ever, aren’t you?” But he couldn’t lie, not with always-tell-the-truth Delly. “I guess I’m afraid to take over the ranch.”
“Got that. Why?”
“It’s taking me a while to come to terms with not flying again, not feeling that rush of excitement.” Mac knew his response wouldn’t end her questions and it wasn’t the whole truth, but he couldn’t possibly tell her everything. “Ranching now seems pretty tame compared to flying.”
“Tame? You always loved ranching.” Adele frowned, obviously trying to understand. “Chokecherry Hollow’s rodeo starts next week. Granted it’s not the world’s largest, but you never met a rodeo you didn’t enter.”
“I can’t ride anymore, Delly.” He moved his stump.
“Why not?” As kids, she’d always played tough guy, countering his excuses with perfect logic, just like now. “You never needed two hands to ride broncs before, Mac. I distinctly remember you telling me it was all in the legs.”
“I’m still healing from my injuries,” he quipped, hating this defensive feeling.
“Making ranching and riding impossible?” Frowning, Adele leaned forward to peer into his eyes. “Impossible has never been in your vocabulary, McDowell. What’s the real reason you don’t want to stay on the Double M?”
She knew him too well. Mac took a moment to admire the glossy sheen of her golden hair, left free for once so it could cascade past her shoulders in a tumble of curls that was neither messy nor unkempt. No matter what she was doing, Adele always looked perfectly put together.
“I’m not the same person I was when we left high school, Delly,” he warned softly.
“Who is?” she shot back. “Life’s changed you as much as it’s changed me. But at heart we’re the same people God created.” Her bright amber eyes shone. She looked and sounded so confident in her faith.
Why wasn’t he?
“’S’cuse me.” The little girl, Francie, stood in the doorway. But neither she nor her brother behind her looked happy.
“What is it, sweetie?”
The little girl launched herself into Adele’s arms. “I don’t wanna stay here, Delly,” she wailed.
Though slightly chagrined that his special moniker for his bestie had been usurped by these two mini-heartbreakers, Mac’s annoyance quickly metamorphosed into a rush of compassion as the girl wept as though her heart would break. He choked up just witnessing her misery.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Adele swung Francie onto her knee and wrapped her other arm around Franklyn. “You tell me, Franklyn,” she prodded when Francie couldn’t stop sobbing.
“Those aunties said we hafta have different rooms.” A hint of anger underlay Franklyn’s glowering expression. “Francie don’t want to.”
Adele lifted her head and shrugged at Mac helplessly. The shimmering glow of mother love in her beautiful eyes made him gulp.
“Where do you want to sleep, Francie?” she asked.
“Me an’ Franklyn like sharin’.” Francie sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “When the bad dreams c-come—” And there she went again, bawling her heart out. Mac felt utterly helpless, and he hated it.
“Sweetheart, did the aunties say you had to have two rooms?” Adele gently smoothed away Francie’s tears, smiling when the child shook her head. “Then you’re crying because you think they’ll make you?”
“I guess.” Francie sniffed, then frowned when Tillie and Margaret appeared, slightly out of breath. “Won’t they?”
“Of course not. Why didn’t you tell them what you wanted?” Adele asked gently.
“We’re not s’posed to make a fuss.” Franklyn’s grave tone made Mac blink. Adele was alert, too. He could tell she was fighting off her annoyance because her back suddenly straightened as it always had when they were in school and someone had irritated her.
“It’s not a fuss to say if you don’t want to do something, Franklyn,” he intervened to give Adele a moment to regroup. “Otherwise, how will people know what you want?”
“But the lady at that office where we go said we gotta—Ow!” Franklyn rubbed his arm and glared at Francie. “She pinched me.”
“She’s going to apologize,” Adele promised with a reproving glance at Francie. “But