“He’s my dog.” Riley’s voice rose in indignation.

Carter clenched his jaw, his impatience almost tangible. “You lost your right to him, Dad. You almost got him killed. I can’t prove that you took him, but I know you did. Don’t ever do it again.”

Carter changed his tone when he crouched down and called to Rocky. “C’mon, boy.”

Rocky got up and ambled toward him. The poor dog looked confused, but once he reached Carter he was lavished with a few loving pats on the head and all was peachy in dog world.

Carter strode to the door and then turned to Macy. A shiver ran up her spine from the cold, unyielding look he cast her. “I’ll send a car for you in an hour.” He glanced at the threadbare kitchen, the masked filth in the other rooms along with the broken furniture. Then on a deep frustrated sigh, he walked out taking Rocky with him.

Macy watched him get in the car and pull away. She slammed her eyes shut and was hit with a hard dose of reality.

She hadn’t helped matters. She’d probably just made things worse.


* * *

Carter was nowhere around when she returned to the house. Soft, late-evening light cast her bedroom in relaxing hues, and the hot, humid air had finally cooled down a bit with the help of the air-conditioning, but Macy wasn’t feeling calm or comforted at the moment. She still believed that Carter’s relationship with his father could be saved, but she might have gone about trying to fix it in the wrong way. Judging by the look she’d witnessed in his eyes when he’d walked out of Riley’s house, Carter thought of her as a traitor.

He was the last person she’d ever want to betray. Macy had his best interests at heart, but she may have overstepped boundaries in trying to help.

“You blew it, Macy,” she said to herself.

She should have taken Bill Fargo’s advice.

Consider the consequences.

Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be feeling so miserable right now.

She glanced at the large manila envelope sitting on the top of the dresser and let out a quiet groan. She’d been deliberately ignoring it since the darn thing had arrived. She should open it, she really should. But going over more legal mumbo jumbo didn’t appeal to her at the moment. It reminded her too much of losing her mother and the financial mess she’d been in. It reminded her too much that she didn’t really belong at Wild River. She wanted to pretend a little longer that she did.

She sank down on her bed, feeling lonely and heartsick and not at all ready to face the night by herself. When her cell phone rang, Macy snapped her head up and looked toward her purse sitting on her nightstand. Only a handful of people knew her number. She rose from the bed, grabbing her phone from the deep recesses of her handbag, and before the third ring, peeked at the screen. She smiled when she saw the call was from Avery. She was just the friend she needed to talk to tonight.

“Hi, Av,” she said. Her shoulders relaxed. Tension oozed out of her the second she heard Avery’s voice on the other end of the receiver.

“Hello, Macy.”

“Oh boy, how’d you know I needed a friend right now?”

“I guess because I need one, too. We must be on the same wavelength.”

“Usually that’s a good thing,” Macy said. “But, it doesn’t sound like you’re too happy right now. What’s the matter?”

“I’m a little upset. It’s nothing too drastic, but there’s this persistent man-”

“Already, it sounds interesting,” Macy said. Avery had led a sheltered life. She could use a little excitement, whereas Macy had the opposite problem. Her life was anything but boring. “Go on.”

“No, no. It’s not anything like that. He’s an art expert and quite smooth, if you ask me, and he’s been calling, trying to persuade me to sell my father’s impressionist art collection.”

“Really. Who is he?” Macy asked.

“His name is Marcus Price. He’s from Waverly’s.”

“Oh, wow. I’ve met him. Ann Richardson introduced me to him during our negotiations for my mother’s auction. He’s pretty dreamy looking, if you like tall, confident men with attitude.”

“I’ve spoken with him once,” Avery said. “To tell him no thank you, but he keeps calling. I’m dodging his calls and emails.”

“Would you ever consider selling, Avery?”

“No. I won’t even think about it. That collection is the only thing I have left of my father. He was the only one in my family that showed me any love. I adore those paintings because they were his. He nurtured them and added to the collection year after year. I can’t…I truly can’t part with them.”

Macy had the impression that Forrest Cullen hadn’t been the kind of father that Avery needed. He’d been distant at best, though he loved her and now, her dear friend was clinging to his memory with an art collection that her father had treasured.

“Well, if you’re adamant about it,” Macy advised, “why not meet with Marcus Price one time to give him your answer in person? Trust me, you’ll appreciate his good looks. And you can make your position crystal clear to him.”

Avery hesitated then released a deep sigh that carried over the receiver. “Maybe, I will. Thanks for listening. So, tell me, what’s happening over there with your Wild River cowboy?”

Macy wasted no time launching into an explanation of the latest events of her life, including her misguided attempt to help bring Carter close to his father. “I’m sure I’m not Carter’s favorite person right now. And, Av, he’s been so good to me while I’ve been here. We’ve…gotten closer.” Macy paused. The image of his stone-cold expression when he’d walked in and spotted her at his father’s place flashed in her mind. He’d seen it as a betrayal, plain and simple. “I might have ruined everything.”

“Maybe not. Why not talk it out with him?”

“Carter is pretty stubborn. I don’t think talking is going to work. Not this time. And he’s told me before…uh-” Macy cringed as she revealed the truth to her friend “-that it’s none of my business.”

“Then apologize to him. If he’s a good man, he’ll accept it.”

Macy couldn’t apologize to Carter. She still felt she was right. Carter shouldn’t give up on his father. But she was afraid that, by pressing her point, she’d destroyed their budding relationship. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something, Av.”

After she bid her friend goodbye, Macy sat on her bed, deep in thought. Her frank conversation with Avery made her realize how deeply she cared about Carter. Aside from finding him sexy and gorgeous, she liked him. More than she’d liked any other man who had come before him. While living at Wild River, she’d managed to keep her emotions on an even keel. Barely. Because she didn’t really believe in love anymore and because Carter McCay owned the Love Curse Diamond. He’d already fallen victim to the bad fortune that ring symbolized, and Macy would be a fool to think a relationship with Carter would turn out any differently.

While her heart said other things, her mind steadied those thoughts with practicality. She wanted to be on good terms with Carter during her time here. She wanted to finish the project she’d started and see it through to the end. She didn’t want an argument about Carter’s father to taint her days here at Wild River.

She was going to fix that.

Soon.


* * *

The pool was cool and refreshing against Carter’s skin as his arms sliced through the water with even, steady strokes. Moonlight reflected on the water’s edge. He took a deep breath and ducked his head, swimming with finesse and efficiency. He’d mastered the technique from swims in Wild River as a young boy. Back then, it was all for fun, a way a poor boy had to enjoy himself on a hot summer day. He and his friends would jump off tree branches that overhung the rushing river. They’d yell and holler and hoot with laughter, sometimes egging each other on, sometimes daring each other.

Nowadays, swimming wasn’t so much recreational as it was a means to an end. He swam laps to burn off excess energy. He swam laps when he needed to clear his head for business. And he swam laps to simmer down his rising temperature.

Carter’s temper had skyrocketed this afternoon when he’d found out Rocky had disappeared. After speaking with Fargo, Carter had gone straight to his father’s house, certain the dog would be there. And he’d been right, but he hadn’t expected to find Macy there. That had come as a complete surprise. If Fargo knew Macy was there, he’d given him no indication.

Macy wasn’t held hostage on the ranch-she could go wherever she wanted-but butting in to his personal affairs was another matter, and she’d crossed a line today. He was angrier at her than he was at his father. Why in hell was that? And why in heaven’s name did he feel so damn betrayed?

Macy had good intentions, he reminded himself. But his anger didn’t ebb. Instead his strokes became more deliberate, more intense as he cut through the water.

After a good thirty minutes in the pool, Carter climbed the steps and got out. Water dripped from his body as he reached for a towel on the chaise longue. The midnight air was cool against his heated body, his pulse beating hard from the vigorous swim. He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist then headed inside the house.

Macy should be asleep by now, he thought. It didn’t stop him from pausing behind her bedroom door. He sighed heavy and shook his head. He wasn’t ready to forgive her. He wasn’t even close. Part of him hadn’t wanted her getting involved in his dealings with his drunken father, and another part of him hadn’t wanted Macy to see how shabbily he’d grown up. Shame and humiliation were difficult things to overcome. Even though Carter had become successful and wealthy, that house and that man represented a scarred and painful childhood. He hadn’t wanted Macy to witness that. To see how pathetic his young life had been.