“Jennifer still lives in town?” She’d been the salutatorian of Ethan’s graduating class, voted Most Likely to Make the Cover of Fortune Magazine.
“She married Mike Abbott and they run his dad’s lumberyard together.” Mac shook her head. “You’d be surprised how many people stayed in Red Leaf . . . or ended up coming back.”
He shot her a sideways glance. “Like us.”
“Like you,” Mac corrected. “I came back to take care of Coach after his heart attack, but he really doesn’t need me anymore. I’ve already stayed about six months longer than I planned.”
“Where do you want to go?” Ethan didn’t know why, but the thought of Mac leaving Red Leaf cast a shadow over the conversation.
“A few weeks ago, the editor at the Heritage called and told me they have an opening for a reporter. The deadline is the first of September, and he encouraged me to apply for it.”
“Isn’t that where you did your internship?”
“It’s where I ran errands and proofread everyone else’s articles,” Mac said ruefully. “My internship will help but the competition is pretty fierce. In order to get the job, I have to submit a sample of my work.”
“You’ve been writing for the Register since you came home. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’ve been covering meetings and community events. I need something that will grab their attention.” Mac angled the camera toward the sky and snapped a photo of the eagle Ethan had seen the day before.
“Aren’t you supposed to be taking photographs of the wedding venue?” he teased.
“That handsome guy is on the guest list.” Mac tucked the camera into her bag. “Did Hollis happen to mention a cake?”
“I’ll add it to the list. Right after buying twinkly little lights but before the guy in the penguin suit.”
Ethan’s breath tangled in his lungs when Mac smiled. A real smile, as unexpected and enchanting as a shooting star.
It was the same one Ethan had seen on Mac’s face in the video clip when he’d made the winning touchdown ten years ago.
The team had always looked at Mac like a kid sister, and that was what she’d been to Ethan. A kid. He’d never really looked at her at all.
He’d been an idiot.
It might have taken a decade, but never let it be said that Ethan Channing didn’t learn from his mistakes.
Mac had forgotten how loud a van-load of teenage boys could be. Or how fragrant. She cracked the driver’s side window of the van. The combination of testosterone and AXE cologne was a little overpowering.
Mac had stopped by the high school on her lunch break to drop a sandwich off for Coach—turkey on whole wheat—and found the entire team squirming on the bench.
School wasn’t in session yet, but her dad was a stickler about the team getting into shape before the season started. Judging from the guilty looks on the boys’ faces, they’d done something that hadn’t been in the playbook.
“What do you think the consequences should be for having a shaving cream fight in the locker room, Mackenzie?” her dad had barked. “Crunches? Push-ups?”
It suddenly occurred to Mac that all that restless energy could be put to good use outside the field as well. “I have a better idea.”
She’d given Coach the sandwich and taken the keys to his van.
“Are we really going to meet Ethan Channing?” One of the boys leaned over Mac’s shoulder. “My dad still talks about the play-off between the Lumberjacks and the Lions.”
Was she the only person in Red Leaf who wanted to forget that game?
“I’m sure he’ll be there.” Mac felt another pinch of guilt for taking off and leaving him alone with his wedding checklist.
Not that Ethan had given her much of a choice.
So why did her brain tend to sift out the bad memories until all that remained was the look on Ethan’s face when he’d said those four little words?
I need you, Mac.
Because she was a glutton for punishment.
There was no sign of Ethan when she pulled up to the house, but country music blasted from an old radio perched on a pyramid of paint cans.
Ethan emerged from the garage as Mac turned off the ignition. He stopped short when he saw the boys spilling out of the van, and his gaze cut to her, a question in his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“You’re looking at the starting lineup for the Red Leaf Lions.”
“I usually perform physicals in an office,” Ethan murmured.
“They aren’t here to get a physical. What they need is a few hours of intense conditioning.”
Ethan still looked so adorably confused that Mac couldn’t help but shake her head. “I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live in a small town, Dr. Channing.”
Then why do you want to leave?
The words chased through Ethan’s mind as Mac pivoted toward the van. Ethan caught hold of her hand, overwhelmed that she’d recruited an army of volunteers to battle the overgrown lawn. The boys had already opened the back doors on the van and were arming themselves with rakes.