Heartache Falls Part 6

The older man shook his head. "Let me finish. I seldom put my pride on the chopping block like this, so allow me to get it behind me. When Alison asked me to offer you my professional support, I wanted to refuse, but as you undoubtedly know, I've seldom been able to refuse my daughter anything, so I grudgingly gave you my backing. Right from the start, you proved worthy. You were smart, hardworking. Your peers respected you. You became a d.a.m.n fine lawyer and an a.s.set to the firm. I know you'll be an exceptional judge."

Mac's mind was spinning. Just how had they gone from an investigator delving into his bank accounts to a pat on his judicial back? He dropped his arms to his sides, then slipped his hands into his pockets. "Uh, thank you."

Charles drummed his fingers against the garden hoe's wooden handle and continued, "More important, you've been a good husband to Alison and an excellent father to her children. I'll also admit that you've been a fine son-in-law to me. I want to see you and Ali work this thing out. Unless ..." He paused and cleared his throat. "Has Allison done something unforgivable?"

Yes. She left me. Months ago, she left me. "No, Charles. Like I said a few minutes ago, we're just going through a rough spot."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Mac rocked on his heels. This whole exchange was a bit surreal, and it had left him at a loss for words. On one hand, he was overwhelmed at finally hearing praise from Charles Cavanaugh. On the other hand, he was annoyed to hear it now. Why did it have to take Ali leaving him to drag a kind word out of the man's mouth? And while he was glad to have his father-in-law's support, it chapped his b.u.t.t to know that he'd had him investigated. How was he supposed to respond?

Finally he settled on the truth. "I appreciate the offer, Charles, but right now I don't know how you could help. The kids have asked the same thing. The fact is that Ali and I created the problem, and Ali and I are going to have to fix it."

If they both wanted to fix it, that is. He couldn't forget that somehow the word divorce had entered the picture. Could Ali be thinking along those lines already?

"Very well, then. Know that I'm here if you need me."

Mac's mouth twisted wryly. "You and Walt Prentice?"

Charles shrugged. "She'll always be my baby girl."

"Fair enough." Mac drew a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush. In the bare-your-soul spirit of the moment, he decided to lay it out as plainly as possible. "Look, Charles, I don't know what's going to happen with me and Ali. I'm not sure what I want to happen, and I don't know what's best. Neither of us has been happy for a while now. Could be that Ali was right to leave. Maybe we need this time apart."

"How does being apart solve anything?"

I'm not as lonely.

It was true. Somehow it was a whole lot less lonely to be apart from her physically than to be with her in the same room while being emotionally light-years away. "Maybe you can ask your daughter that question next time the two of you talk. In the meantime, I need to be going. I have a pile of work waiting for me on my desk that I want to get through today."

He was halfway across the lawn when Charles called out, "Just a minute, Mackenzie. There's one thing I'd like you to think about. When you get to be my age, you begin to realize just how short life really is. Don't waste the time you have. Don't let this situation drag on too long, but also don't settle for less than what life should be. If you love my daughter, then love her with your whole heart and demand the same from her. But if the two of you can't make each other happy anymore, then be honest with yourselves and let each other go. If Alison doesn't have the guts to make that break, then you need to man up and do it for her. For both your sakes."

Mac replayed the strange conversation in his mind as he drove home. Charles Cavanaugh had certainly surprised him. He'd given Mac more compliments in a twenty-minute conversation than he had in the past twenty years. As he pulled into his driveway and parked the truck, he wished Ali were home so he could tell her about it.

But Ali wasn't at home. No one was home. He was alone. Totally alone.

With that thought, Mac's throat went tight. Dear Lord, he was tired of this. Feeling lonely. Feeling empty. Feeling old and used up.

He shifted into park and switched off the motor. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop back against the headrest. He thought he just might cry. He hadn't cried since Judge Roscoe Whitcomb sentenced his mother to jail the first time, but here in his very own driveway on a sunny Sat.u.r.day in springtime, tears were welling up inside him. How pitiful was that?

Screw this.

He sat up straight, twisted the key, and started the engine once more. If he wasn't mistaken, the animal shelter was open until two. "I'm gonna go get me a dog."

FIVE.

May On a day during Ali's third week in Eternity Springs, she awoke to birdsong and sunshine, a to-do list about a million miles long, and a phone call from her eldest. "h.e.l.lo, Stephen."

"Hey, Mom. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good, actually," she said, glancing at the bedside clock. "You're up early."

"Yeah, I have a bit of a problem. Do you have a few minutes?"

She thought of all she had waiting for her and stifled a sigh. "I always have a few minutes for you. What's up?"

After ten minutes of advising her son about wardrobe choices for an upcoming round of interviews, she showered, dressed, and grabbed a bagel on her way out the door. Her spirits were light as she traversed the stone path, looking forward to her workday. So far, she loved her job. She was busy from morning until night.

Ali now agreed with Celeste's declaration that the fire could be considered a blessing. Fast action by Zach and the Eternity Springs Volunteer Fire Department had prevented serious structural damage, but cosmetically, the place had been a mess. This had given Celeste an excuse to completely remodel the restaurant, which gave Ali the opportunity to outfit the s.p.a.ce with what she believed to be the best. She was having too much fun.

Each morning she met with Celeste at Cavanaugh House to go over the previous day's accomplishments and plan upcoming tasks. They'd spent days on restaurant design and development, and more days after that hashing out a list of staff positions to be filled along with a projected start date for each of them. Ali realized soon into the process that a primary part of her job would be keeping Celeste's feet on the ground when it came to her wishes for the new Bristlecone.

The woman dreamed big. While Ali supported big dreams, she also believed that laying one brick at a time made for a stronger structure. She continually reminded Celeste that Rome hadn't been built in a day; neither had Sedona, Arizona. Eternity Springs needed a restaurant that served the needs of local people like Zach Turner, not just well-heeled visitors from around the globe.

As her path took her near the bank of Angel Creek, she was surprised to hear Celeste call her name. Looking around, she saw her friend and employer standing with a fisherman at the little boulder-sheltered pool that Ali herself had discovered earlier this week when she'd decided to fish after work one evening.

"Good morning, Celeste," Ali called, changing the direction of her steps when Celeste waved her over. It wasn't until she drew closer and the fisherman turned to face her that she realized just who the man was. "Dad?"

He waved. Yes, it was her dad. Oh, for crying out loud.

Unhappiness rolled through Ali. She didn't need this. He had no business coming here. She was an adult. An adult with adult children of her own. She shouldn't have to answer to her father about the decisions she made about her marriage!

"Well, well, well," he said. "Imagine running into you here, sweet pea."

"Yeah. Imagine. Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I'm fishing. I've already pulled in two pretty rainbows. Thought maybe you and I could share them for breakfast."

Once the initial flash of annoyance pa.s.sed, Ali's head started spinning. This was not good. She had made a tactical error in going with the message-on-the-machine avoidance strategy. She should have known her dad wouldn't let her get away with it. "Gee, Dad. That would be nice, but my job-"

"Isn't a problem," Celeste interrupted. "I was on my way to the carriage house to tell you we're taking the morning off when I stopped to visit with this lovely gentleman who, coincidentally, is your father."

Ali wrinkled her nose. "Celeste, there is nothing coincidental about his visit to Eternity Springs."

"Oh, quit grumbling, dear. You should have had this talk weeks ago." She held out her hand to Ali's father and said, "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Charles. Now, I'm off to my rock-climbing cla.s.s. Enjoy your visit with your daughter, and best of luck with the fishing."

"Thank you, Celeste. I will give your suggestion serious thought. You're an angel."

"You'd better believe it. And isn't this just a heavenly day?" Celeste's happy laughter tinkled like church bells across the morning air as she headed back toward Cavanaugh House.

Ali frowned at her father. "What suggestion?"

"She suggested I sponsor a section of the healing center's garden in your mother's name."

Ali made the connection immediately and warmth filled her, dispelling some of her annoyance. "The Peace roses. I mentioned to her that you've said how much my mother loved Peace roses."

"They were her favorites." He lifted a wistful gaze toward Murphy Mountain. "She loved the mountains, too. I think your mother would be proud that you're involved here."

Ali certainly hadn't antic.i.p.ated that sort of reaction from her father. Encouraged, she asked, "Did Celeste mention my work at the Bristlecone?"

"She did. It's an ambitious project, what with the fire damage."

Just as Ali began to relax, he added, "Though I'm not sure that you are the right person to make it a reality."

She bristled. "You don't think I can do the job?"

"Oh, I know you can do the job. What I doubt is that you should do the job. Not if it means putting the job before your marriage." He reeled in his fishing line, and when a bare hook emerged from the water, he said, "Hand me my tub of night crawlers, would you, hon?"

She did as he asked, then, knowing her father, found a comfy spot to sit. She had avoided this conversation as long as possible. Might as well get it behind her. "This job has not caused trouble in my marriage."

The trouble was already there. In fact, if anything, this job might save her marriage.

He waited to respond until he'd baited his hook and dipped it in Angel Creek, but when he did, he cut right to the heart of the matter. "I'm disappointed in you, Alison."

Go ahead and stab me through the heart, Dad. "Why? Because I took a job doing something worthwhile?"

"Because you've attempted to avoid me during this, the biggest crisis of your life."

The biggest crisis of her life? Ali had always known that she came by her flair for drama honestly. "Dad, there is no crisis. Who have you been talking to? Caitlin? Chase?"

"I've discussed the situation with Caitlin, Chase, Stephen, Mac, Louise, and Walt Prentice."

Oh. She didn't know why she was surprised. She should have antic.i.p.ated this. Of course he'd talk to the family, to Mac's secretary. "Who is Walt Prentice?"

"The best divorce lawyer in Denver."

Divorce lawyer! Ali's knees went week. She was glad she was already sitting down. What had Mac said to him? Was that the real reason her father had made this trip? Bracing herself, she asked, "Dad, why did you talk to a divorce lawyer?"

"Insurance on your behalf."

Whew. So Mac hadn't asked him to do it.

"Although the contact with Prentice took place before I received the private investigator's report that cleared Mac of any serious wrongdoing."

"Oh, Dad." An investigator, too. Ali closed her eyes and dropped her head back, lifting her face toward the heavens. Dear Lord, give me patience.

"Which brings me here today. Alison, running away seldom solves anything. I believe you have made a mistake."

That was all it took to bring the doubts and the guilt roaring back. Ali respected her father's intellect and opinion. She knew that for her dad, she would always be the most important person on the planet, and that he truly wanted only the best for her. And how could she defend herself to him when she couldn't explain herself to herself?

She didn't know if she'd done the right thing by leaving. She just knew that in that moment, she'd had to leave. "Dad, it's complicated."

"Life is complicated, sweetheart. You are a bright young woman with a loving heart. That's really all you need to find your way back home."

"I'm not ready to go home. However, I do intend to attend the governor's dinner in two weeks. Maybe by then things will be clearer to both me and Mac."

Apparently that was enough to satisfy her dad, at least for now, because he said no more until he pulled another trout from the water a few minutes later. Wearing a gleeful grin, he asked, "Breakfast?"

She returned his smile and rose to her feet. "Breakfast."

"Excellent. After that, I hope you will offer me a tour of the Cavanaugh manse. I'd like to see that part of the family history."

Once her father had added the trout to his creel, he picked up his fishing gear and they headed toward the carriage house. As they approached the front steps, he paused to enjoy the view. "Beautiful place, Eternity Springs. I like the fact that our ancestors had a hand in building it. Your friend Celeste said this valley has a special healing energy. Do you feel it here, honey?"

Ali considered the question as she, too, looked at the mountains surrounding them. "I think so, Dad. I want to believe it. I know that I'm here looking for answers."

He reached out and pulled her to him for a hug. Then he kissed her forehead and said, "May I offer you one last piece of advice?"

Ali grinned. "Could I stop you?"

"Probably not." He gave a strand of her hair a gentle tug, a gesture he'd made all her life when he wanted her to take special notice. "You have it within your power to simplify your situation. Just be sure that every decision you make, every choice you make, is motivated by love. If you do that, what is meant to be will be."

Ali smiled wistfully. "How did you get to be so smart?"

"Your mother's influence."

Ali touched his face. "I'm sorry I was chicken and called when I knew you'd be playing golf, Daddy."

"That's okay, baby. This time. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir. I won't. Now, let me get you a knife and a pan and you can clean your fish. After breakfast, before I show you the house, we'll take a tour of the grounds. I'll show you the rose garden and we can talk about just how you could honor Mama."

Charles Cavanaugh's eyes glistened briefly and he cleared his throat before responding, "It's perfect."

"Then while we tour Cavanaugh House, you can stop by Celeste's office and write a check."

Mac named his dog Gus. He had no particular reason for the choice. The brown and white springer spaniel mix just looked like a Gus to him. He weighed about forty pounds-thirty of which must be hair, based on how much he shed. Mac thought about Gus as he waited for the tech guys to fix whatever was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up the video the lawyers were trying to play. He wondered what Ali would say when she discovered that he'd gone and adopted a dog. A dog that shed.

Guess he would find out tomorrow when she came home. Over the past three weeks, Mac had kept a list of things he wanted to say to her. Last night he'd organized his thoughts into a clear and thorough summation. His points were well considered and to the point. With a little cooperation from Ali, they could work their way through the list in ninety minutes. He'd even built in time for some theatrics. With any luck, they'd have the situation settled before they left for the governor's dinner, and that night she would be home where she belonged.

"Your honor?"

Mac jerked his attention back to the courtroom. The tech guys were gone and a sea of lawyers looked his way expectantly. "Yes, proceed."

For the next two hours he dealt with motions and procedural issues while making an effort not to allow his disdain for the ballplayer to show. Josh Sandberg was an idiot. He'd had a beautiful wife, three great kids, and a career that boys all across America dreamed about. No matter how this trial ended, his reputation, his life, would never be the same. He could have avoided every bit of it if he'd just been truthful with his teammates and his family.

Mac left the courthouse at the end of the day amidst the lights, cameras, and microphones of media and paparazzi alike, and when he heard his own name called, he scowled and forged ahead. Judges didn't talk to buzzards, but that didn't stop them from trying. Would they never learn?

He was tired of the nonsense already.

Later as he drove home, he found himself thinking about celebrities and the public's fascination for them. Personally, he just didn't get it. He'd never understood the whole hero worship thing over actors and singers and sports stars. Cops and firemen, yeah. Soldiers, absolutely. He appreciated and admired a great athlete's abilities, but just because a guy had the eye-hand coordination to swing a bat and hit a ball didn't make him a hero. Neither did riding a bull in a rodeo.