Enchanted by Patti Berg Page B

paperbacks, some tattered and torn . She had spent many hours with Patrick O’Brien in this room, and she fondly remembered how much they had shared when Mac went away. She pulled one of the worn paperbacks from the shelf. “Your father loved reading Louis L’Amour,” she said, fanning through the pages. “What about you?”
    “Afraid I don’t have time.”
    Kathleen shoved the book back into its slot and walked over to a massive buckskin leather armchair, where Mac’s dad used to sit, where he had spent many hours talking about his son, mostly about how he wished Mac had never met Ashley, how he wished he’d settle down with a woman the O’Brien family could love. She lightly ran her hands over the back of the chair. “He liked hearing stories about the ranch I grew up on. He talked about hunting and fishing, things he enjoyed but rarely got to do. We talked about old Western movies, and our heroes—I liked Randolph Scott, and he liked John Wayne.” Kathleen smiled at the memories. “I liked your dad. We had a good time together.”
    Mac went back to his desk, sat on the edge and picked up the framed photo of his father. “There were so many things I wanted to tell him when I got back from Europe, but my timing was pretty bad. It was Christmas Eve, and the house was full of guests. Dad and I didn’t have much of a chance to talk.” Mac looked at Kathleen. “You know he died on Christmas Day, don’t you?”
    Kathleen nodded.
    “All those things I wanted to tell him—none of it mattered after he died. Everything would have been different if I hadn’t gone away.”
    “Nothing would have been different, Mac.” Kathleen walked to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. She hadn’t touched him in six years, but that electrifying feeling she had experienced back then only increased. With all her heart she wanted to put her arms around him and give him comfort, but she was afraid he’d only pull away.
    And he did. He put the frame back on the desk, went to his chair, and sat down. “It wasn’t my intention to bring up my dad. Hell! I don’t even know why I wanted to see you.”
    “There was a time when we used to sit in your office and just keep each other company. We didn’t talk. You did your work and I did mine. Do you remember?”
    “I remember. But that was a long time ago, and we can’t go back.”
    Time for reminiscing ended. The concrete barrier Mac had erected between them returned.
    “You still haven’t answered my question about the magazine,” he stated. “Is everything going well?”
    I suppose if he wants to talk about business, Kathleen thought, we’ll talk about business. At least that’s better than not talking at all. At least it’s a start. “We’re having a tough time with the advertising, but we’ll get it worked out.”
    His expression softened. “I know I said I wouldn’t help, but if you need anything, I hope you’ll ask.”
    “Thanks, but I can make it work, Mac. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s true.”
    “If you think I gave you the go-ahead believing you might fail, you’re wrong. I have no doubt whatsoever that you’ll succeed.” He leaned back in his chair, resuming his look of control. “I don’t play hunches in this business, Kath. I want to make money on this project. I want you to get your promotion. There’s no hidden motive. Strictly business, that’s all.”
    “Okay. Strictly business.” Damn him! She had hoped they’d resolve that unknown problem between them, that they’d once again be friends. Just a few moments ago, she thought they had been on the verge of renewing the closeness , that special rapport . She couldn’t have been more wrong. But she gave it one more attempt. What they had shared was much too special, much too valuable to give up easily. “I take it a return to our old friendship is out of the question?”
    Mac opened a drawer, thumbed through some file folders, and pulled one out. Putting it on his desk,