Part 14 (1/2)

Like this idyllic mountain stream, her marriage had frothed and bubbled along year after year, enduring periods of white water and enjoying slower-paced moments of peace and beauty. But over time, things changed. The bedrock of her marriage eroded, not by any cataclysmic event, but by the constant wear and tear of life.

Before yesterday, she would have said that all they had left was sand. Quicksand, even. But Mac's trip to Eternity Springs had given her second thoughts about her second thoughts. Maybe portions of their marriage bedrock had eroded, but not all of it. Sure, they had a few sandy spots, but they also had their share of granite.

Because first and foremost, she and Mac still loved each other. Maybe they'd allowed the detritus of life to hide it, but now Ali knew it was still there-solid and steadfast and strong.

Her gaze fell to her left hand and the ring she'd worn for half her life. Mac had chosen quality over carats in choosing the stone, and he'd presented his reasons for doing so with as much care and attention to detail as he'd used when he'd argued his very first case in court. He need not have bothered. Ali had loved the ring from the moment he offered it to her. For years after he'd started making money, he'd tried to replace it with something flas.h.i.+er. She'd refused to allow it. He'd given her the very best he could give. What could be better than that?

She wiggled her fingers. Sunlight glinted off the stone. Solid, steadfast, and strong. Just a little dimmed and dingy. Just in need of a good cleaning and polis.h.i.+ng. Maybe that was the purpose of this time apart, maybe these last few months had been a dust rag for her marriage.

You've mixed up your metaphors, Alison.

”Actually, I've mixed up my life.”

She focused on a leaf as it swirled and turned on the water, dancing it's way downstream. What was she doing in Eternity Springs? After this trip, Mac would expect her to come home. She knew that as sure as the creek was cold.

A part of her wanted nothing more than to do just that. She wanted to go to sleep with him beside her in their bed each night and wake up snuggled against him every morning. She wanted to bake him pies and argue politics and battle over control of the television remote. She wanted to kiss him good-bye when he left for work in the morning and revisit his reaction to her garter belt collection at night.

So do it. The work on the restaurant was almost done. She could get serious about hiring a cook instead of piddling along at it like she'd done so far. She could do most of that from Denver. She should just do it. She could go home with Mac tomorrow. Monday he would go off to work and she would ... what?

I can volunteer, join a quilt group, go to lunch with friends. If she went home, all would be right with her father's world once again. He'd surely want to resume their weekly lunches. She'd once again be a lady who lunches.

Oh, joy.

”Yes, joy,” she softly declared, wanting to mean it. She'd be with Mac again. The man whom she'd vowed to love and cherish in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health-a vow she'd allowed to get lost in the malaise of her middle age. Well, shame on her. He'd made the first step, and now it was up to her to take the next one-all the way back to Denver-where she would be happy if it killed her.

She'd go back to her therapist. If things got shaky, she'd insist on marriage counseling. Her dad had been right about that. She should have suggested counseling again rather than running off to the mountains. Who knows, he might have agreed. Stranger things had happened. A NASA rocket scientist was living with Bear in the mountains.

I've been so happy in the mountains.

She could be, she would be happy in the city again. Mac would be happy to have her home. Her father would be pleased. The kids would be thrilled.

Everyone would be happy. Everyone would be satisfied.

She blinked away the tears that stung her eyes and told herself to grow up. This was her choice. It was the right choice. She could find ways to occupy herself in the city again. She could get another job if that was what she decided she wanted. She could make a new set of friends, interesting people like Sage and Sarah and Celeste. She could even join another quilting bee if she wanted to continue learning that skill.

Frankly, at this point in her life, she could do almost anything she wanted. She had money. She had time. The world was her oyster. She could do whatever caught her fancy.

As long as she did it in Denver.

Because her husband was a federal judge. A federal judges.h.i.+p was a lifetime appointment. He'd be working in Denver forever-unless political winds blew his way, and then they'd go to Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., the pinnacle, the culmination of his dreams.

But what about your dream?

Mac was her dream.

Oh, yeah? Well, you're his dream, too, but he doesn't have to give up one for the other, does he?

That was okay. It was just the way it was. She'd known that when she married him and made those vows. It was wrong of her to have buyer's remorse at this late date.

Besides, she wasn't feeling buyer's remorse. She loved Mac. She wanted to be with him. Just because she'd found happiness here in Eternity Springs didn't mean that she couldn't find happiness again back in Denver. She'd been happy in Denver for a lot of years. Just because her kids were grown and gone and her social life no longer revolved around their activities didn't mean she couldn't invite one of the other school moms to join a quilting bee with her. Just because Mac's move onto the bench complicated her relations.h.i.+ps at the family firm didn't mean she couldn't continue to attend yoga cla.s.ses with the trio of female attorneys she'd made friends with years ago. They simply had to try to get past the awkwardness. They could do that. They were all bright women. Ali could have friends in Denver. Could have a life in Denver that was just as enriching and fulfilling as the one she'd begun to build in Eternity Springs.

If she said it often enough, maybe she'd begin to believe it.

How long she sat staring unseeingly at the water lost in thought she didn't know, but it wasn't until Mac reached out and took hold of her fis.h.i.+ng pole that she jerked back to attention.

”Honey,” he said, ”here's a fis.h.i.+ng tip. You'll catch more fish if you remove the ones you've already caught off the hook.”

”Oh.” She watched him pull a twelve-inch trout out of the stream. ”I got distracted. How did you do?”

”I caught dinner. Made me hungry for lunch.” He removed the trout from its hook, added the fish to his stringer, then returned it to the water and washed his hands. ”Are you ready to eat?”

”Sure,” she said, shrugging off her melancholy and smiling. Moments later, she reached into the picnic basket and set out the bounty they'd purchased at the Trading Post while Mac pulled the cork on a bottle of wine.

While they ate, they spoke of inconsequential things, and Ali thought they both made an effort to avoid subjects that could introduce controversy into the conversation. Gradually, helped by wine, a sweet summer peach, and a silly story Mac told about one of their neighbors, Ali relaxed and pushed the last lingering worries from her mind.

So relaxed was she that she had only a mild grip on her winegla.s.s as she brought it to her mouth for a sip when a noise-a loud animal noise-sounded from right behind her. She startled, spilling half a gla.s.s of wine down the front of her s.h.i.+rt.

”Yeeek,” she squealed, whirling around. ”Was that a ... moo?”

Mac's gaze was locked on her chest. ”Uh-huh.”

”From a cow?”

”That's a steer, Alison.”

”What's a steer doing here?” She grabbed paper napkins from the picnic basket and wiped at the stain on her s.h.i.+rt. ”An elk, okay. A mountain lion, fine. Shoot, even a bear makes sense. But a cow?”

”A steer.” Amus.e.m.e.nt s.h.i.+mmered in his voice. ”Ranches usually do have cattle, honey.”

”I thought we'd crossed into national forest. I saw a sign.”

”Hmm. You are right about that. I guess this steer can't read.”

”Very funny, Timberlake. This is the first time I've worn this s.h.i.+rt and I've spilled wine on it. It's probably ruined.”

”Take it off and rinse it in the creek before the stain sets.” When she paused and looked worriedly around, he added, ”No one will see you but the steer, and not only is it impossible for him to tattle on you, he doesn't have the equipment needed to take advantage of the situation. I, on the other hand ...” He waggled his eyebrows wolfishly.

Ali frowned at him.

The amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes transformed to heat. ”Take off your s.h.i.+rt, Ali-cat.”

A ribbon of heat fluttered through her. ”I guess I do need to soak the stain.”

”You certainly do.”

After glancing around the meadow one more time, she reached down to pull the s.h.i.+rt up and off, then hesitated. ”If I do, will you give me your s.h.i.+rt to wear on the way back to town?”