Author’s Note: I wanted to use these cufflinks in the story for a long time now, and I couldn’t resist them being the catalyst for… something else. 😉

“You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

Carson shook his head. Food repulsed him at the moment. He’d already had to fend of Natalie and Mac’s disapproving look when he refused breakfast, and he didn’t know why Mackenna would bother asking. She knew that he’d lost his stomach in the night, and she should know better than to ask. “I’m still a bit queasy. You said there was plenty of stuff at the stops, so maybe later on I’ll feel like eating.”

“It’s a good thing your brothers weren’t willing to get up this early. They’d be harassing you about getting carsick.”

“I’d better not. Maybe I shouldn’t go with you. I know you think I should, but I don’t want to puke in the Maxwell and ruin this for everyone.”

She put her hands on his face. “Just remember that I don’t think you’re a killer, and I think you’ll be okay. You can’t resist me, so you may as well except what I say as fact then.”

He almost laughed, and he did manage a smile. She grinned back at him, and he tried to hold onto her confidence, wanting to believe that she was right even if most of him screamed that she had to be wrong. He didn’t know what to do if she was wrong, though. He didn’t think he could handle the consequences of that. He wasn’t sure if he’d have to be committed or serve time or what.

Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was not what he thought at all.

“You are not a killer,” Mackenna repeated, and he nodded, letting his head rest against hers for a moment. She was sure, and he could let her go on being confident enough for the both of them, couldn’t he? He didn’t know. Maybe. He’d try. “I think I’d better get you your present.”

“My present?”

She nodded before she turned to the car, digging around in one of the containers cluttering the backseat. He watched her with a frown, not sure what she’d think he needed out of the Maxwell. She leaned back and held up an item in triumph before jumping off the car.

“Here. Mac refuses to wear these because he thinks they’re Fords, but they’re cute, and only he would know that, anyway,” Mackenna said, taking hold of Carson’s hand. He watched as she put the cufflink through the hole, trying to remember how he’d gotten into this mess, and then she fixed the other, giving him a wide grin. “Perfect. You look just like you belong.”

He should say something about how stupid he felt dressed up like this, that he didn’t know how she’d talked him into it, but after yesterday, he couldn’t help thinking about something else. Combine that with his dream last night and the way she’d tried to talk him out of his worst fears, he didn’t know how to react. He wanted to do something, to tell her how much all of this meant to him, but he couldn’t find any words. He should hug her, maybe. That would work. “Mackenna…”

“Your outfit is complete now,” she said, reaching up to adjust his shirt collar.

He couldn’t help it. He put his hand on her back, leaning forward to catch her lips with his, knowing he was making a huge mistake. This would ruin everything, and he needed her too much to let that happen, but he hadn’t stopped himself. Couldn’t, even now. She should smell like the cars, like grease and oil, but right now she was a bit floral—must have been her shampoo—and he found it a bit dizzying, though that could have been his stomach still being off from the night before. He couldn’t believe he’d done that.

He was a killer. He had no business kissing anyone, and he shouldn’t be kissing her because he knew this was going to ruin their friendship. He was an idiot.

Mackenna stepped back, blinking. “Um…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just… You in a dress made me realize—No. It’s—I’m just trying to—I’m wrecking everything. That’s what I do. I didn’t—I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry.”

“We share the car.”

“What?”

“And I get to keep you forever.”

“Um, Mackenna, I don’t know what you’re—”

She cut him off with another kiss. Oh. So he hadn’t managed to screw everything up after all. Good. Very good.

Author’s Note: So I had the ending to this story clear in my head. I did. I do. I can’t get it on paper, though, not for the life of me, and so I’m getting kind of tempted to stop posting parts until I have that ending. I don’t know what to do. It’s very frustrating. I know what should be there, I know how the flashback should work, but it doesn’t work. It refuses to. Not the the scenes I wrote before it are the greatest ever, but that flashback is key to the mystery and the ending, and it is not working at all. I’ve got a few scenes left before it comes that I can post, but I admit… I’m running out fast, and I don’t know that I can make it work in time for when I’m out of the stuff that was good. 🙁

“Carson? You about ready?”

“I think you should go without me.”

Mackenna frowned, pushing open his door. She didn’t know what he thought he was doing, but if he was going to sleep in, he could do it another day. Today was special, and they didn’t have a lot of time. They were going to be late, and she didn’t want to be late. They still had plenty to do when they got to the car. “You’re not dressed.”

“I… I am not going. Just leave me alone.”

She shook her head, crossing over to his side, and when she got closer, she grimaced as the stench of vomit assailed her nose. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you say so? How long have you been throwing up, anyway?”

“It stopped a while ago. I’m not… sick. I’m just… Mackenna, I killed him.”

She knelt down next to Carson, putting a hand to his head and checking for a fever. He had to be talking crazy. He hadn’t killed his father. That was not who he was. She didn’t believe him, not for a second. “You didn’t. You must have talked yourself into a nightmare or something because you are not a killer.”

“It was so clear. Mom was trying to get me cleaned up, she was talking about the blood, and she… I said it. I said it plain as day. I said I killed him.”

“You were eight. You could have been confused. You don’t know that you did anything of the sort. All you know is that you were injured and she was cleaning you up. You don’t know why you would have thought you killed him, but just because you did doesn’t mean that you murdered him. That’s not you. I know it’s not.”

He shook his head, sounding so lost and miserable that she didn’t know what to do. She wrapped her arms around him, and he stiffened, but she held on tight. She couldn’t let him go, not now, not like this. She just couldn’t. Not when he was convinced he was a killer. She knew better. He had to be wrong.

“I want to believe it must have been an accident, but if it was an accident—”

“Then you, as a little kid, would have assumed that it was something worse. You would have blamed yourself. You wouldn’t have listened to reason then, just like you’re not now.”

“I think I hate myself.”

“You don’t need to do that, either. Carson, please, you still don’t have all the pieces. Yes, your younger self thought you were a killer. Does that mean that you were? No. You didn’t know how to process it. You probably had no idea what it would have meant if it was an accident or if it was self-defense. You didn’t know how to comprehend it, so your brain blocked it out, and now you’re jumping to the conclusion that it was like murder when it couldn’t have been. You’re not that kind of person.”

“If he molested me and I did it in self-defense, is it really that much better?”

“In some sense, yes. Not only did you get a bit of revenge, but you had a good reason to use whatever you had to in order to stop him.”

Carson shook his head. “I… I can’t do this. I think it’s past time that I go—”

“No. If you get all of your memories back and you need help dealing with them, that’s one thing, but you’re not going to lock yourself away just because you might have done something to your father. You don’t know that you did.”

“You don’t know that I didn’t.”

“I do,” she insisted. “I know you. You’re a good man. If you weren’t my instincts would have warned me away from you a long time ago. They didn’t. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere, not abandoning you.”

He took a couple deep breaths, shaking his head. “I don’t understand how you can do that. Or why you care about any of it. I didn’t mean to dump it in your lap, but for some reason, you stayed with it. With me.”

“Well, at first I felt sorry for you,” she said, knowing the admission wouldn’t help. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “I think you should shower and clean up a bit. You’ll feel a lot better when you do. I want you to stay with me today, okay?”

He nodded, and she smiled, glad he’d agreed to that. “Wear the blue shirt today. Then we’ll match. Kind of.”

He snorted, and she gave him another squeeze before rising to deal with the trashcan. “If you take too long in the shower, though, you’ll worry me and I’ll come in after you. Fair warning.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Good. I have something to give you before we leave this morning. Well, it’s in the Maxwell, but I have something for you, all right?”

“All right.”

Author’s Note: Carson decided to wander off, and so he missed the parade. It was a choice between the mystery plot and the parade, and the mystery won, really.

“You missed the parade.”

She should hate him for that, and Carson wouldn’t blame her if she did. He had kind of promised to be there for it, but he hadn’t been. He should have tried to make it there, but he hadn’t known where the nursing home was to meet them, and by the time he thought he was getting close, he’d seen the parade going through town. “I know.”

“You had me worried.”

Yeah, he’d figured he’d end up doing that, too. That wasn’t his intention, and that bothered him more than breaking his promise—knowing that he’d upset her and made her worry about him, but he hadn’t thought he’d had a choice. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Mackenna asked, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. Sorry doesn’t cut it. Where have you been? You don’t know anyone here, and you weren’t in the Legion. If you’d gone to the church, your brothers would have seen you because they went there to get shirts, and so you weren’t there, either. You weren’t near the cars, and I didn’t see you anywhere at the lake or at the nursing home, so what the hell? Where have you been?”

Carson sighed. “I was… Down at the lake, I could have sworn someone was watching me, so… I separated myself from everyone and wandered on my own for a while—no specific purpose or plan, just walked and walked—until I figured he’d had plenty of chance to confront me. He didn’t. I don’t know who or where he is. I don’t even know if he was ever following me.”

She sighed. “Damn it, Carson. If there was someone following you, then I needed to know. Your brothers should have known. We should all have been watching you—making sure we found this guy and that you stayed safe. If someone is after you, it’s because they’re afraid of what you remember, and that means that they might kill you, too, like they did your father.”

He nodded. “I know. I… It was stupid, and it dawned on me halfway through the walk that I was being dumb about it, but by then I was kind of lost, and I didn’t have my cellphone with me—I think I left it at Jim and Natalie’s because I was so distracted by the costume idea—and I don’t even know that it would work here because I know it wasn’t working the last time I looked.”

“Okay, well, that’s got to change. No more going off without your phone. Even if the service is spotty, you need it. Also, no going off on your own. It’s one thing to need space or the bathroom or that sort of thing, but when you disappear for over an hour and miss an event, you scare the hell out of people.”

He grimaced. He had not meant to do that, not when he started out. He’d figured it would be easy to tell if he was being tailed, but it wasn’t as simple as the movies made it seem, and while he had still felt like someone was watching him, he never caught anyone doing it, just like the last time. “I won’t. I’m sorry. My paranoia is getting the better of me. I don’t like it, but that’s what keeps happening. I just wish I could get that last part of it back so that I could stop obsessing.”

“It’ll come. Be patient.”

“That is easier said than done.”

“I know,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t ever do that to me again. I don’t like not knowing where you are or if you’re hurt. I had all these horrible images of what could have happened to you in my head, and I don’t think I was really there for the parade at all. I suppose I smiled and waved and all that, but I don’t remember doing it. All I could think about was you.”

He leaned his head against hers. He should push her away because his mind was bound to take the wrong sort of turn again like it had ever since he’d seen her in that dress this morning, but he liked having her close all the same. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Then don’t go off on your own. Promise?”

“Promise.” He slipped out of her hold and looked at her. “I know there’s a steak dinner tonight, but I’m not in the mood. Can you drop me off back at Jim and Natalie’s before you eat? I think I need a shower—well, I know I do. After the sun and this outfit, I’m kind of rank—and I’ll go to sleep early since we’ve got to leave before seven tomorrow, don’t we?”

“That’s when the starting gun goes off, yes.”

“That’s crazy.”

“It’s not so bad. There’s always doughnuts and coffee and other goodies at the first stop, and that makes the early morning worth it.”

“If you say so.”

“Let me go give our tickets to your brothers. They were so disappointed that they were going to miss out on the steak, but I think I’m with you. I could use a cool shower and an early night. Besides, we have a puzzle to finish.”

Carson laughed, shaking his head. She dragged him with her, still unwilling to let him out of her sight, and he should have known she’d be like that after what he’d done, but he didn’t know that he’d survive being alone with her, either. He’d just have to be too tired to finish the puzzle. That was it.

Author’s Note: So… A bit of panic never hurt anyone, right?

“Have you seen your brother? He wandered off after we got back, and I thought he was going for air-conditioning, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere that I can see. It’s getting close to time for the parade,” Mackenna said, giving each of the others a look. Carson had been a little off after he went to the shore, quiet all the way back into town, but she hadn’t thought anything was wrong. He needed to cool off, and she’d gotten caught talking to a couple of other owners while his brothers went their own way as well.

She hadn’t been worried until she’d gone in the Legion and not seen him anywhere. She supposed he could be other places, too, but that didn’t reassure her much. She didn’t want to lose track of Carson now, not when he was recovering memories and could be in some kind of fugue or something. She didn’t want him hurting himself somehow.

“No, sorry. We wandered off to find the people selling the shirts,” Larry said, tugging on his new purchase. “Figured we’d do better being a bit official-like since we were taking up space in your car. Carrie still thinks we’re nuts, but we’ve been having a blast, so why not support the cause a little?”

Mackenna smiled. “I’m not entirely sure you’re contributing to the cost of anything except the printing of the shirts, but I think they’re great to have. If you feel like spending more money, you could always do the raffle. That goes to the nursing home, I think.”

“Already did. Carrie liked the blanket a lot, so we bought a few tickets. Not expecting to win, but that’s okay. If the money helps the nursing home, I’m all for it,” Nick said, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist. She rolled her eyes, but her annoyance faded when he kissed her cheek. They were a cute couple, Mackenna couldn’t help thinking, and she had to wonder if that ran in the family. Maybe, after what Carson had said about Larry and his ex.

“Will you do me a favor and check the bathroom for Carson? There’s more than one in the Legion, and just in case he was in there when I checked the rest of the place, I’d appreciate it. We’re going to need to drive Shadow down to the nursing home in a bit, and he should be back by now.”

“He probably just lost track of time,” Larry told her, putting a hand on her arm. “No need to panic just yet.”

She tried to smile. “I wish I could, but that’s not—that’s not me. I’ve been more worried about him than I should have been pretty much from the moment that we met. I don’t want to be, but that’s how it goes sometimes.”

“We’ll check. Anywhere else you want us to look? I mean, it is possible that he already headed over to the nursing home, isn’t it?”

“Unlikely that he walked that far, but yeah, I guess it is,” Mackenna said. She didn’t like this. The longer it went without her seeing Carson, the more upset she got. She was starting to think something had happened to him, and she didn’t want to think that.

What if those eyes he’d felt the other day weren’t just his paranoia? What if someone here really was watching him?

“Did you tell your uncle about coming down here?”

Nick frowned. “Um, no. Why?”

“I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking about Uncle Tim? Why?”

“Because she thinks he might have killed Dad, that’s why, stupid,” Larry said, and Nick glared back at him. He shrugged before turning to Mackenna. “We all have our issues with our uncle, though it’s true he’s got some kind of weird vendetta against Carson, made worse by Carson getting what was in the barn. I don’t know if that was because of the car or because he was thinking the livestock went to baby brother, but Carson already told him he wasn’t taking any of the cows. He put the scrap metal aside to sell and only took the car. Tim hated Dad, yeah, but I don’t know that he could have killed him. He wouldn’t be down here, though. He’d have no way of knowing that’s where we were because we didn’t tell him.”

“Someone else could have, though.” Mackenna heard herself say. “Everyone at the Legion back home knew we were going. We talked about it Sunday night when we met with Mac’s friends, and even if they didn’t mention it, Chambers might have.”

“Chambers is still alive? Amazing. I’d have thought he’d have been pounded for good by now. He was always asking for it when we were younger.”

“Believe me, he’s still asking for it now.”

“We can make sure he stops.”

She almost laughed. “No, don’t, I don’t need you to pick any fights for me. It’s okay. I handle him just fine. Let’s just find your brother.”

Author’s Note: The root beer floats are a tradition. On the twenty-fifth anniversary, we got to keep our glasses. They’re a bit like a beer stein with the run’s logo on the side, and they were great for floats that year. 🙂

“Root beer floats. I feel like such a kid.”

“You are a kid,” Carson told his brother, annoyed. He didn’t know how much longer he could put up with Larry being Larry. He was going to hit him, and if he didn’t hit him, he’d say something he regretted. He didn’t want to fight with his brothers, and he didn’t want to ruin things with Mackenna, and so he just needed to be quiet. That’s what he’d do. He’d stay very quiet, and then he couldn’t wreck anything.

“I think at this point he’s just doing it to annoy you,” Mackenna told him, shrugging. “Let it go. Enjoy your ice cream.”

“Do you think they’d give me more root beer? This turned out to be all foam,” Nick said. He looked down at his cup and then at Carrie’s. “Yeah, yours is, too. Let me go see if they’ll give us a bit more. It’s not much of a root beer float without the root beer.”

Carrie shook her head, but he was gone before she could say no. “I didn’t need more.”

“You try not to complain about anything. Sometimes it’s something you should say,” Carson told her, stirring the ice cream melting in his cup. He didn’t feel all that nostalgic, and he didn’t even feel that hungry, not that he did most of the time.

“You okay, Carson?”

“I don’t think I can finish my float,” he said, pushing it over to Larry. “I’m going to go walk around and look at the other cars.”

Mackenna caught his arm. “You sure you’re okay?”

He nodded. “It’s… I think it’s the heat. Not sure how they managed to handle it before they decided short-sleeves were allowed, and you have it a lot worse than I do.”

“Not if I take off my coat, but that might make someone’s head spin.”

“Better not then,” Carson said, not wanting to think about seeing her without the coat. Then the corset would be all too visible, revealing more than it did now as it hugged her body, and he’d just as soon not think about that, either. “No, I’m just going to circulate a bit and see if that helps. If not, I’m staying somewhere air-conditioned until the party.”

“The parade.”

“Right. That.”

“Yeah, go get some air. You’d be better off going down to the lake, but if you’d rather look at the cars, that’s up to you.”

“Oh. You’re right. I’ll go down to the lake,” he said, and she smiled. He thought of asking her to join him, but he needed his distance until he could get over this hyper-awareness. When he had that back under control, when he could forget the idea of touching her or anything like that, he’d be able to spend time with her again. Until then, he’d be on his own as much as possible.

He started down to the beach, rolling up his sleeves as he did. They’d just have to forgive him for ruining the costume—he wasn’t used to this. Even in the summer, wearing suits to work hadn’t been that bad because he spent all his time indoors in the cool of the air-conditioning. He wasn’t used to suits and the glare of the summertime sun.

He stopped at the edge of the sand to take off his shoes and slip out of his socks, sure they’d get looks if anyone saw them sitting there. He rolled up the bottom of his pants and waded out into the water, letting it lap over his feet with a contented sigh. This was good.

He walked along the shore for a while, letting the slight breeze coming off the water work to cool him down and wishing it was as easy to settle things in his head. He needed to find a way so that he could put all that behind him. His father, the sudden attraction to Mackenna, all of that needed to go away so that he could live a normal life. He’d have his past—most of it, at least—and he could lay his father to rest, so to speak. Then he’d move on. He’d get a new job, and he’d find his way back to where he should be, where he would be if he hadn’t had his father’s murder weighing on him all this time.

He let out a breath, and then he felt it, again. That same stupid sense that someone was watching him. He looked over at his family, but they were all laughing at something Mackenna was saying, none of them so much as glancing in his direction. Carson searched the area with his eyes, frowning when he saw someone over by the docks. The man was more of a shadow than anything, and he might not be watching Carson at all, but seeing him made him shudder anyway.

So much for calming down and cooling off.

Author’s Note: Still having fun with the costumes. 🙂

“Carrie, get a picture of this. Or a dozen. Look at our baby brother, Nick. He seems rather… dapper, don’t you think?”

“Shut up, Larry. I swear I will smack you,” Carson said, not feeling up to dealing with his brothers at the moment. He’d known that it would be bad when they saw him, but he’d thought that he could hold out for a while and not lose his temper, but that didn’t work. He felt self-conscious enough with this outfit on—he knew it wasn’t that different from his normal clothes, but he didn’t feel right in them, not that he thought he’d be comfortable until he could get away from Mackenna for a while. True, she was in with the drivers at the brunch and he was with his family, but when she’d been around, all he could think about was her, and that wasn’t right. He wanted things back the way they were. They were good friends. That was all they needed to be.

“You clean up very nice,” Carrie told him, adjusting the little tie that went with the shirt and fixing the band on his sleeve. She was so a mom, wasn’t she? Not that she and Nick had kids, but she was more than ready for them. “Try not to fidget so much.”

He snorted. “Around Larry and Nick? All they’ve done my entire life is torment me, and I’m just feeding the fire right now.”

She smiled at him. “You know that’s not true. At least not about tormenting you. In their way, they both love you very much.”

“It does not feel like it right now.”

“It never does.” Carrie stepped back to survey her work and nodded. “Better. Where is Mackenna?”

“Oh, she’ll be along in a minute. The driver’s meeting and brunch goes over the route for tomorrow, so it’s important, and she’s got to be there for it. She said we’d have to work out schedules for who wanted to ride when, though. We can look at the route if you’re coming tomorrow and pick times, but we’re also going to need to decide about today—”

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” Nick said, shaking his head. “You have to be in the car the entire time. You can’t not go, not when you’re all dressed up like that.”

Carson groaned. He never should have done this, but he hadn’t been able to come up with any other reason to prod Mackenna out of his room this morning, and if he didn’t get her out of there when he did, something would have happened that would have ruined everything. He couldn’t do that. He had to stop himself.

“I don’t see her anywhere, and everyone’s been huddled around the cars for a while now.”

“Not all of those people are drivers or owners. Lots of people like to look at the cars while they’re in town. There were even people looking at the one I have, some who wanted to buy it,” Carson said, and now that he did, he swore he felt those eyes on him again. Damn it, he was way too paranoid. He couldn’t keep doing this.

“Hey, look, Carson, that woman’s dressed up, too. Why don’t you go introduce yourself? Oh, wait, you’re not dating Mackenna.”

Carson rolled his eyes. “Not funny. Well, no, wait, it is a bit funny.”

“It is?”

Carrie snorted, the first to realize what Carson was getting at, and she shook her head. “Honestly, boys. You’re almost pathetic. That is Mackenna.”

“No way. She’s not—Damn. She is. She looks hot, too.”

“Yes, the heat is rather annoying, isn’t it?” Carrie muttered, and Carson almost laughed after his brothers seemed to take her words at face value. He couldn’t believe them sometimes. Of course, if Nick stared at Mackenna any more than he already was, he was going to get a smack from Carrie.

“There you are. I was hoping you’d meet us up here,” Mackenna said when she jointed them. “Have you decided how you want to rotate who’s riding when?”

“I think Carson should be in the car the entire time. You know, since he went to all the trouble of dressing up for you.”

“I didn’t do it for her,” Carson protested, and then he winced when he realized that he had done it for her, one way or another. “Um, never mind.”

Mackenna laughed. “It’s okay. I think it was sweet of you to cave in to my whims, and I would like it if you rode with us all day, but especially for the parade since you did dress up.”

“If I were to dress up, would there be some kind of bonus points like… a kiss?” Larry asked, moving close to her. “I should mention how nice you look today. Not that your normal look is bad or anything like that, but you do more than clean up good, you know.”

She flushed as red as her hair, and Carson swore he might just hit his brother. Not that he had any right to claim her, not that they hadn’t been denying that they were dating or anything like it since they met, but Mackenna was his. He didn’t like hearing his brother flirt with her, and he really hated seeing her respond to it.

Great, now he was jealous, too. He’d almost wish for a flashback at this rate. He was going to do something really stupid if he didn’t get himself under control fast.

Author’s Note: Unfortunately, it’s not quite as striking a difference when Carson is in costume as it is for Mackenna.

“Okay, do me a favor and get all the laughing out of the way now so that I don’t have to deal with it later. Oh, and maybe it’ll shore me up for when my brothers start in on me. No, nothing will help with that, but you could maybe try.”

“I could offer to beat them up for you,” Mackenna told him, setting down her spoon and taking a sip from the coffee mug. Mac would give her a look—he was all for Grandma’s rule about no drinks in the Maxwell, but she was still fighting a hangover and wanted the coffee for her own peace of mind if nothing else. “Would you want that?”

“I have a feeling someone will be fighting today,” Carson said, and she nodded, putting the cap on the cup and turning to him. “Well? Do I look stupid and ridiculous?”

She looked him over, shaking her head. No, it wasn’t as much of a transformation as hers was, what with the dress thing, but the vest worked for him. Put on the suit coat, and anyone would hire him for his next job—or for a few other things that she had no business thinking about. He looked sharp, clean, good. He didn’t seem much like the man she’d seen in hideous sweatpants or even that business suit of his, at least in appearance. No, this was a definite improvement. She liked it.

“You’re sure?”

“Come on, Carson. How is this that different from what you wear to work every day?”

“Well, there’s the band on the arm, and the collar is different, and it’s got a fob watch, too, and what am I doing? I must look like an idiot.”

“You look fine. I’m the one that looks ridiculous.”

“Uh huh. Not for a second.”

She smiled, about to wrap her arm around his when she saw his cuff. She tried to lift his hand to get a better look at the shirt, but he pulled away. “I was hoping you’d tell me to forget it. This isn’t going to work. I mean, the shirt doesn’t even button properly.”

“If it’s under the vest, no one would know. I can’t tell,” she told him, setting down her mug and catching his hand. “That’s a creative way of dealing with the fact that I forgot the cufflinks.”

“Oh. Cufflinks. Right. That explains why they didn’t have any buttons.”

She nodded. “Yeah. They’re probably in the Woodsman or maybe in Shadow. Mac has a few sets, and they get around places. Not that he’s worn that suit there in years. I’m not sure he was ever as trim as you. Look at you. All nice and crisp.”

“I feel stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He lowered his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I’m going to face my brothers. They’re going to make fun of me all day.”

“I told you—I’ll beat them up for you.”

“Yeah?”

She grinned, almost looking forward to it, but then a camera flash startled them both, and they jerked, looking back at Natalie. She snapped another, a smile on her face. “You two make a nice matched set there. Here, stand closer together and give me a real smile. I swear I just need one. Well, maybe two. It’s not every day that we get someone dressed up as nice as the two of you.”

“Oh, this isn’t even the full look, Natalie,” Mackenna said, knowing that there was no point in trying to avoid the picture. She wrapped her arm around Carson’s and smiled even as he stiffened. “The hats are in the truck.”

“I get a hat? Will it cover my head so no one will recognize me or will I be more humiliated?”

“Well, you can take your pick. There’s a couple bowlers and driving caps, and it’s up to you which you feel is better. We’ll make sure you get one or the other before you start out. That reminds me—we keep forgetting the sunscreen, and someone’s going to end up burned at this rate.”

“Should be you with all that red hair.”

She rolled her eyes. “Who says it’s not dyed?”

“Too natural for that, and your last name is Gilreath.”

“Not every Scot it is a redhead.”

He nodded. “I suppose they’re not. Well, that’s disappointing. I rather liked the idea of your hair being real. The curls and all. It was a look that suited you, but if it’s all a lie…”

For some reason, it bothered her to have him thinking that it wasn’t natural. She didn’t know why. She’d joked about her hair and everything for years. Part of that was a defense mechanism—all those wonderful kids who wanted to mock the carrot top or compare her to famous redheads like Pippi or Wendy or Anne of Green Gables—but she’d never been bothered by people assuming it was fake, not before him. “It’s real.”

“Good.”

Mackenna frowned a little, not sure what was in the look he was giving her just then, but the camera went off again, and she couldn’t think about that now. “Come on. We’d better get into town before we’re really late.”

Author’s Note: I ended up taking an impromptu break from writing and posting over the last few days.

I do have, though, put together a piece on Mackenna’s costume to go along with this section, a start of whole series of things I’m calling “From a Character’s Closet.”

“I have the costumes for you to try on.”

“Give me a second, will you?” Carson said, grabbing his shirt and wincing. He hadn’t heard Mackenna coming, and he was only half-dressed. He’d been hoping to put this off for a bit longer by being dressed before she came to get him, but he’d taken too long getting up—what was it with her? Shouldn’t she be less of a morning person after staying up all the time and having a hangover? He didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Okay, I bring you clothes, and you’re really going to finish dressing before you turn to face me? What is wrong with this picture?”

“Whatever was bothering you before you came in the room,” he told her, shaking his head. “I thought the costume thing was for the parade, and I never said I was doing it all day. You’re nuts. That’s not happening. Even if I have a hard time saying no to you, it’s just not happening.”

“How did you know something was bothering me?”

“The sound of your voice when you came in.” He pulled the shirt over his head and turned to face her. The rest of his explanation went right out of his head. He couldn’t think. He could only stare. He’d always known that Mackenna was a woman—other than that first moment when she was under the car—and it wasn’t like she was hideous or deformed or anything like that—but her dress seemed to take all the things that made her a woman and emphasize them, hugging her waist and pushing up her chest. That was the corset part of it, he supposed, but hell. He didn’t—he couldn’t—all those lines that he wasn’t supposed to cross and all those thoughts that he wasn’t supposed to have about her, they all hit him at once.

He wanted her. He’d never wanted any woman as much as he did her, not even his first crush or his first girlfriend, not when he’d had all those stupid teenage hormones. He couldn’t do this, though.

He had to find a way back to being unaware of how good she looked and the way he’d like to touch her. He had to. Her friendship and support through this whole crisis with his memories resurfacing meant too much to him to let her go. He couldn’t afford to ruin this.

“Carson? You okay? You zoning out on me again?”

“I… Yeah, I guess I did. Sorry.”

She forced a smile. “It’s all right. I’m not expecting you to control it or anything like that. Those memories come when they want to, not when we want them to. Mostly, I think, because we don’t want them to come.”

“Exactly,” he said, feeling a bit sick to his stomach for a different reason this time.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look… off.”

“I feel a little… strange,” he admitted, sitting down on the bed and trying to sort out his emotions. He had to find a way to go back to when he wasn’t as aware of every part of her as he was right now. “Um… Just leave the clothes. I’ll deal with them in a bit.”

“I don’t think I should go,” she told him, sitting down next to him. He tried not to look at her. That would only start him thinking again, and he didn’t think it was good to have her next to him. Not here. Not now. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s bothering you?”

“Oh, just… the past. Got started thinking about my aunt and that old apartment and…” She let her head rest against her shoulder. “You want to know why I really get you? Why it’s so easy to understand the not knowing?”

“Honestly? Probably not,” he said, feeling like a heel. He didn’t want to say no, but he’d be lying if he said he wanted all the details. “I don’t want to think about you being hurt and there being nothing I can do about it because it happened years ago.”

She smiled, wrapping her arm around his waist. “That is why I like having you around. No false pity, no lies, just understanding.”

“Yeah, same here.” He had to get her off of him, though, and he hated himself for it. He’d put on the costume if that was what it took. If he did that, said he wanted to change, she’d go, and that was what he needed. “I like your outfit.”

What the hell was that? That wasn’t what he meant to say.

She laughed. “Oh, I cheat a bit—this is more steampunk than authentic run attire, but I have to balance what I wear with the whole fixing cars aspect of it. No Gibson girl look for me. I couldn’t do it. I’ve got another that’s got a detachable skirt that I use on the run itself just in case something happens. This one is nice, though. I like the long coat.”

“Coat is nice,” he said, but he’d been staring at the corset part, and he didn’t think he’d even noticed the coat. So much for honesty. “Um… If I’m going to try on the clothes, you’re going to need to move.”

“Okay. Meet us upstairs when you’re done.”

“I will.”