The Complete Mackenzies Collection Read online

  “If I agreed, it would have to be at night. I have chores around here that have to be done.”

  “Night is fine with me. Midnight would be fine with me, if it would get you back in school.”

  He gave her a quick look. “You really mean it, don’t you? You actually care that I dropped out of school.”

  “Of course I care.”

  “There’s no ‘of course’ about it. I told you, no other teacher cared if I showed up in class. They probably wished I hadn’t.”

  “Well,” she said in her briskest voice, “I care. Teaching is what I do, so if I can’t teach and feel I’m doing some good, then I lose part of myself. Isn’t that how you feel about flying? That you have to, or you’ll die?”

  “I want it so bad it hurts,” he admitted, his voice raw.

  “I read somewhere that flying is like throwing your soul into the heavens and racing to catch it as it falls.”

  “I don’t think mine would ever fall,” he murmured, looking at the clear cold sky. He stared, entranced, as if paradise beckoned, as if he could see forever. He was probably imagining himself up there, free and wild, with a powerful machine screaming beneath him and taking him higher. Then he shook himself, visibly fighting off the dream, and turned to her. “Okay, Miss Teacher, when do we start?”

  “Tonight. You’ve already wasted enough time.”

  “How long will it take for me to catch up?”

  She gave him a withering look. “Catch up? You’re going to leave them in the dust. How long it takes depends on how much work you can do.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning a little.

  She thought that already he looked younger, more like a boy, than he had before. He was, in all ways, far more mature than the other boys his age in her classes, but he looked as if a burden had been lifted from him. If flying meant that much to him, how had it felt to set himself a course that would deny him what he wanted most?

  “Can you be at my house at six? Or would you rather I come here?” She thought of that drive, in the dark and snow, and wondered if she’d make it if he wanted her to come here.

  “I’ll come to your house, since you aren’t used to driving in snow. Where do you live?”

  “Go down the back road and take a left. It’s the first house on the left.” She thought a minute. “I believe it’s the first house, period.”

  “It is. There isn’t another house for five miles. That’s the old Witcher house.”

  “So I’ve been told. It was kind of the school board to arrange living quarters for me.”

  Joe looked dubious. “More like it was the only way they had of getting another teacher in the middle of the year.”

  “Well, I appreciated it anyway,” she said firmly. She looked out the window. “Shouldn’t your father be back by now?”

  “Depends on what he found. If it was something he could fix right then, he’d do it. Look, here he comes now.”

  The black pickup roared to a stop in front of the house, and Wolf got out. Coming up on the porch, he stomped his feet to rid his boots of the snow caked on them and opened the door. His cool black gaze flickered over his son, then to Mary. His eyes widened fractionally as he examined every slim curve exhibited by Joe’s old jeans, but he didn’t comment.

  “Get your things together,” he instructed. “I have a spare hose that will fit your car. We’ll put it on, then take you home.”

  “I can drive,” she replied. “But thank you for your trouble. How much is the hose? I’ll pay you for that.”

  “Consider it neighborly assistance to a greenhorn. And we’ll still take you home. I’d rather you practiced driving in the snow somewhere other than on this mountain.”

  His dark face was expressionless, as usual, but she sensed that he’d made up his mind and wouldn’t budge. She got her dress from Joe’s room and the rest of her things from the kitchen. When she returned to the living room, Wolf held a thick coat for her to wear. She slipped into it; since it reached almost to her knees and the sleeves totally obscured her hands, she knew it had to be his.

  Joe had on his coat and hat again. “Ready.”

  Wolf looked at his son. “Have you two had your talk?”

  The boy nodded. “Yes.” He met his father’s eyes squarely. “She’s going to tutor me. I’m going to try to get into the Air Force Academy.”

  “It’s your decision. Just make sure you know what you’re getting into.”

  “I have to try.”

  Wolf nodded once, and that was the end of the discussion. With her sandwiched between them, they left the warmth of the house, and once again Mary was struck by the bitter, merciless cold. She scrambled gratefully into the truck, which had been left running, and the blast of hot air from the heater vents felt like heaven.

  Wolf got behind the wheel, and Joe got in beside her, trapping her between their two much bigger bodies. She sat with her hands primly folded and her booted feet placed neatly side-by-side as they drove down to an enormous barn with long stables extending off each side of it like arms. Wolf got out and entered the barn, then returned thirty seconds later with a length of thick black hose.

  When they reached her car, both Mackenzies got out and poked their heads under the raised hood, but Wolf told her, in that tone of voice she already recognized as meaning business, to stay in the truck. He was certainly autocratic, but she liked his relationship with Joe. There was a strong sense of respect between them.

  She wondered if the townspeople were truly so hostile simply because the Mackenzies were half Indian. Something Joe had said tugged at her memory, something about it would be bad enough if it were just him involved, but it would be twice as bad because of Wolf. What about Wolf? He’d rescued her from an unpleasant, even dangerous, situation, he’d seen to her comfort, and now he was repairing her car.

  He’d also kissed her silly.

  She could feel her cheeks heat as she remembered those fierce kisses. No, the kisses, and remembering them, begot a different kind of heat. Her cheeks were hot because her own behavior was so appalling she could barely bring herself to think about it. She had never—never!—been so forward with a man. It was totally out of character for her.

  Aunt Ardith would have had a conniption fit at the thought of her mousy, sedate niece letting a strange man put his tongue in her mouth. It had to be unsanitary, though it was also, to be honest, exciting in a primitive way.

  Her face still felt hot when Wolf got back into the truck, but he didn’t even look at her. “It’s fixed. Joe will follow us.”

  “But doesn’t it need more water and antifreeze?”

  He cast her a disbelieving look. “I had a can of antifreeze in the back of the truck. Weren’t you paying attention when I got it out?”

  She blushed again. She hadn’t been paying attention; she’d been lost in reliving those kisses he’d given her, her heart thundering and her blood racing. It was an extraordinary reaction, and she wasn’t certain how to handle it. Ignoring it seemed the wisest course, but was it possible to ignore something like that?

  His powerful leg moved against hers as he shifted gears, and abruptly she realized she was still sitting in the middle of the seat. “I’ll get out of your way,” she said hastily, and slid over by the window.

  Wolf had liked the feel of her sitting next to him, so close that his arm and leg brushed her whenever he changed gears, but he didn’t tell her that. Things had gotten way out of hand at the house, but he didn’t have to let them go any further. This deal with Joe worried him, and Joe was more important to him than the way a soft woman felt in his arms.

  “I don’t want Joe hurt because your do-gooder instincts won’t leave well enough alone.” He spoke in a low, silky tone that made her jump, and he knew she sensed the menace in it. “The Air Force Academy! That’s climbing high for an Indian kid, with a lot of people waiting to step on his fingers.”

  If he’d thought to intimidate her, he’d failed. She turned toward him with fire spar