A Husband For The Holidays. Ami Weaver

him. Touch his face, with the faint shadow of whiskers on his strong jaw. Bury her hands in the longer length of his hair.

      Or kiss him.

      With a hard swallow, she turned back to the sink. None of those were options. Not a single one. To even think so was madness of a truly bittersweet kind.

      He folded the towel and she drained the sink, bumping his arm with hers as he hung it up. She gritted her teeth against the little prickle of heat the contact generated. She didn’t want this, but didn’t know how to make it go away.

      “How about you?” The question was more of a desperate deflection. “How’s the vet practice? What else are you up to these days besides helping here?”

      He leaned a hip on the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m good. The practice is good. I’ve got another vet working with me now, too. We’re a good team. The practice is expanding and we need more room, so that’s why your aunt and uncle are selling to us.”

      She blinked and went cold. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

      He looked at her strangely, then comprehension dawned. “I’m buying the tree farm, Darce. With Chase. Didn’t they tell you?”

      She turned to the sink and swiped at it with the cloth, fighting the sense of betrayal that flooded her. “It must have slipped their minds,” she muttered.

      What else hadn’t she been told? Had things been so bad when her marriage ended they’d tried to shelter her to the point of simply not telling her anything?

      He swore, then rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I wouldn’t have—”

      “Told me. I know. No one around here seems to think I need to know anything that’s going on.” She sounded put out but couldn’t help it. What else didn’t she know?

      “You’ve been gone a long time,” he pointed out, an edge creeping into his voice.

      “I know.” The words were bitter on her tongue, all the more so because he was right. “What are you going to do with it?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

      He pushed off the counter. “Chase has an ecologically sound plan for the place, Darcy. If you stop by my office I’ll show you—”

      “Wait.” She held up a hand. Ecologically sound were pretty words that hid a nasty truth. “Is he turning this into a subdivision?” The thought made her sick to her stomach. All the trees leveled, the ponds filled in, the buildings that had been here forever torn down.

      “Not like you’re thinking, I’m sure. The barn will hold my practice. The rest will be a sub, which will have large lots. The plan is to preserve as many of the trees as possible. It’ll be natural, with trails and everything.”

      The roaring in her ears intensified. “You’re taking my childhood home and tearing it down so you can build a subdivision.”

      Alarm crossed Mack’s face as he narrowed his eyes. “You make it sound personal.”

      “Isn’t it?” The bitterness spewed out of her now. “I hurt you. Badly. I took everything from you and now here’s your chance to hurt me back.” This farm had always been here, always been a constant in her life. Now it’d be torn down and replaced with houses and people. And no longer part of her.

      “Oh, come on, Darcy. It’s been seven years! And you haven’t been back since to the childhood home you love so much. Your aunt and uncle are important to me. This has nothing to do with you.” His voice had risen to match hers, and she glanced at the living room, worried her aunt and uncle would overhear.

      She stared at him, the final realization he’d truly moved on hitting her right in the heart. “You knew. And you’re still going to destroy it.”

      “We gave them a fair price,” he said simply. “They know my plans. They know Chase’s plans. No one’s destroying anything. It’s why they agreed to sell to us. They had opportunities to turn us down. I’d never pressure them, Darcy. Give me some credit.”

      The tight edge of anger in his voice forced her to bring it down a few notches. “Right. It’s not about me. As long as they are okay with selling the farm to you for a subdivision, it has nothing to do with me.” Were her words for Mack, or for herself?

      “No, it doesn’t.” There was a challenge in his eyes. “Because you’ll leave. You claim to love it here, but you’ll leave it without a second thought. And not ever look back.” He snagged his jacket off the back of a chair. “Never mind, Darcy. I’ve got nothing to justify to you. It doesn’t involve you.”

      His words followed him out the door and she resisted the urge to scream and throw something after him. Tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed hard. He had a point. She’d seen firsthand how little they needed her here, how they didn’t see how much she’d loved it. How she’d dreamed of being back.

      Whose fault was that? Her own. She’d needed to get away from Holden’s Crossing so badly she hadn’t thought about what it would mean to relationships with those she’d left behind. Even being in touch long-distance hadn’t been enough, though she’d tried to convince herself it was.

      It hurt they’d opted not to keep her in the loop. Worse that Mack had been the one to tell her.

      Aunt Marla walked in. She looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Mack?”

      “Gone,” Darcy said shortly. Marla frowned.

      “Did you two have a fight?”

      In spite of herself, she laughed. “Fight? That would imply there was something to fight over. No. He just—he told me he’s buying you out.”

      “Oh.” Marla sat down at the table. “Yes. He is.”

      Darcy didn’t have the energy to pursue it further. Plus, it didn’t matter, as Mack had made clear. “That’s great.”

      Marla covered Darcy’s hand with her own. “He and Chase will treat it with respect, Darce. It’s a good choice for all of us.”

      Darcy’s breath caught. All of us didn’t include her, of course. And now it was too late to ask for a say. Besides, what could she do? She lived in Chicago, for Pete’s sake. Her life was there. She’d spent the past seven years making sure everyone knew that. How happy she was, how successful she was, how busy she was.

      It had all been a sham.

      “Of course it is.” She pushed back from the table. “I’m wiped. I think I’ll go to bed.”

      Marla rose and gave her a quick hug. “I’m sorry, honey. We should have told you.”

      “Just out of curiosity, is there anything else I need to know?”

      Marla shook her head. “No. Nothing. Darcy, I’m so sorry for how this has gone.”

      Being angry with them wouldn’t serve anyone. Besides, the one she was mad at was herself. And Mack, no matter how unfair that was. “No harm done,” she murmured and hurried up the stairs to her room.

      * * *

      A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Darcy opened it to find her uncle standing there. “Can I come in?” His voice was quiet.

      “Of course.” She stepped back. The room was small, and he sat on the bed.

      “Marla told me.” He took a deep breath. “I know. We should have said something. We’ve really—we’ve really dropped the ball when it comes to all this. We thought—we thought we’d kind of ease you into it. That wasn’t our intention, to shut you out.”

      Darcy’s mind was whirling. It felt that way, but there was no point in going there. She was as much, if not more, to blame, letting them think she needed to be protected from all this. “I know. I understand.” She stared out the window at the light snow that fell,