Lonely Pride

By Tricia McGill

Sam fell in love with Mac at first sight when she was still a child and he a teenage boy, almost but not quite a man. A special bond formed between them, fueled by their mutual love of animals—especially horses. As each matured, that bond threatened to move beyond the limits of friendship. By the time Sam reached her 17th birthday she was desperately in love with him, her shining hero. But one awful night Mac betrayed that love and Sam was unable to find it in her heart to forgive him. By the time the truth was revealed they had both moved on with their lives, and Sam’s pride prevented her from forgiving Mac; threatened to ensure her a lonely future. Book 1 in Tricia McGill's Beneath Southern Skies series now Free.

Reviews
“I was supposed to take the book on vacation with me, but I made the mistake of starting it and couldn’t stop until I finished–but then Tricia McGill is one of my favorite authors. She grabbed me from the beginning...emotional sparks were so real I felt the tension. I encountered an amazing range of emotions reading this book as I recalled my own childhood crushes, my broken hearts, the agony of losing someone I loved, and the joy of knowing real love. I enjoyed the ‘sex’ scenes that left enough to the imagination that I could personalize them for myself.
Tricia McGill has an astounding way with words. Once you read her books, you’ll become an avid fan.” Brett Scott, TRS

“Ms. McGill has written very real characters. You can relate to them and the problems they are dealing with. She has created a world that is believable. I love the scene of Mac telling Sam how he feels and she finally realizes what she felt all those years ago was that she hadn't wanted to grow up. She had wanted everything to stay the same. Ms. McGill tells a story that touches your heart.” Donna Fallen, Angels Reviews

“Tricia McGill’s description of Mac’s struggles with his feelings makes the reader want to believe that chivalry is not dead after all. This book should be required reading by some of the young men of today.” Donna L. Zeller, KIC reviews

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Jul 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781771453073

Book preview

Lonely Pride

Beneath Southern Skies, Book 1

By Tricia McGill

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-1-77362-389-4

Kindle 978-1-77145-307-3

WEB 978-1-77362-390-0

Amazon Print ISBN 978-1-77362-391-7

Copyright 2014 by Tricia McGill

Cover art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

Dedication

To my Tasmanian friends. If not for them and the many happy and eventful holidays spent in their beautiful state I would never have gained the inspiration for this story.

Prologue

The girl watched as the huge black horse approached. The rider was almost as handsome as his mount.

The boy slid down the animal's sweat-slicked sides, then led the creature to the trough for a drink. The trough, donated long ago by a group of town elders, stood in pride of place on the center nature strip of the main street, near the war memorial.

Hello there. He nodded to the girl as he stroked a hand down the sleek neck arched over the trough.

Nice horse. Bravely she neared the creature as it pulled its dripping muzzle from the water to look at her from clear, kind eyes. Hiding her fear she reached out to pat it.

Yeah. He won't bite; you can touch him all you like. As long as you're gentle. Like his horse, the near-man had a kind look to him.

Oh, I wouldn't hurt him. I love horses too much. She turned wistful eyes on him as she stroked the horse's neck.

Have you got one? he asked.

She shook her head. No, not yet, but one day I hope to own my own pony, she said with enthusiasm. I'll bet I could ride yours.

Want to ride him?

The girl almost choked on her excitement. Would I ever? She rubbed her sweaty palms down the sides of her jeans.

Up you get then, and I'll lead you down the street. For a fraction of a moment she recalled all the cautions her mother had thrown her way about talking to strangers. But this boy wasn't exactly a stranger. In the small town where they both lived his family was well-known. She nodded and he hoisted her aboard the huge beast. She shivered, half with fear, half with exhilaration, as she surveyed the world from her lofty perch. Where do you live?

She gave him her address. As he led her away from the war memorial towards her home a group of town larrikins began to laugh and call out rudely. The boy told them where to get off and they slunk away, chastised.

When they reached her home—all too soon—he said, I've got a pony I've outgrown. Want me to speak to your mother and arrange for you to come over to ride it?

Exhilaration almost cut off her breath. Would you, really?

In that moment Sam lost her heart, irrevocably and forever, to Mac.

Mac taught her to ride a horse faster and more daringly than any boy for miles around, perhaps in Tasmania. He taught her the meaning of caring unselfishly, and loving relentlessly.

Chapter One

The steady drone of the aircraft’s engines was comforting. Sam caught a glimpse of the bay as the city was left behind. She stared out the window, so wrapped in her thoughts it was a while before she realized the woman beside her had spoken.

I beg your pardon? She felt a touch of sympathy at the woman’s obvious distress; her knuckles white as she clung to the armrests.

I said is this your first flight?

Sam shook her head. No, I was born in Tasmania. I’m going back to visit my mother.

This is my first trip away from the mainland.

You’ll love Tassie. Sam hadn’t the slightest desire to extol the virtues of her home state, but remembering her own fears when she’d first left the Apple Isle to settle in Melbourne she went on, Launceston is a beautiful city, there’s so much to see, you’ll love it. I’ve flown back and forth many times and haven’t had a bad flight yet.

Is this a holiday for you? the woman asked as she accepted tea and biscuits from the stewardess.

Sam nibbled at her lower lip. No, unfortunately I’m going to attend the funeral of my step-father. It’s tomorrow.

Oh, what a shame. How did he die? Her morbid interest obviously redirected her concern away from the flight.

He was run off the road last week by a lunatic driver and died instantly. The woman obviously noticed Sam’s lack of real emotion. Sam couldn’t conceal it; what was the point of expressing sorrow she didn’t feel?

How dreadful. Everyone assured me I’d be safer up here than down on the roads. I guess they’re right in a way. So, you’ve lost two fathers? With a podgy hand she patted Sam’s arm.

Sam dragged in a breath. Yes, my real father died eight years ago. I was fourteen. Her gaze misted as she looked out at the puffy clouds. My mother remarried a year later. Sure the shock of that receded long ago, Sam was stunned to realize it could still cause an ache in the region of her heart. I’ve been working in Melbourne for five years so didn’t know my step-father all that well. She shrugged. We weren’t terribly close. But my mother loved him, so... Unable to go on, she left the sentence hanging. The woman, now drinking her tea, didn’t seem to notice.

Truth was, Sam disliked Robert Hemminswood from the moment he’d entered her mother’s life. She’d resented him; and never understood how her mother could replace her father so soon after his untimely death.

She could now, with adulthood, appreciate her mother was too young at thirty-six to stay single forever. But it still hurt knowing how Robert moved into her life with such speed even her mother’s friends were surprised. That on its own was bad enough, but Robert then proceeded to steadily ruin the business Sam’s father built from scratch. Robert’s bumbling ineptitude forced them to sell out soon after to the highest bidder.

Robert was a rogue and a fool, and Sam doubted she would ever be reconciled to the way her mother married him so hastily. Especially as she’d always assured Sam her father was the love of her life.

Thomas Frank literally knocked her mother off her feet while on a bus tour. Within a month he’d kept his promise to return from the mainland. He rented a flat in the inland town where her mother had lived all her life. He bought a run-down business and courted Barbara, her mother. They were married two months later. Thomas soon built the general store/news agency into a thriving concern. Sam was their only child and the three of them spent fourteen wonderful years together before Thomas succumbed to cancer and died.

By the time Sam reached her fifteenth birthday Robert, a local man, had wooed and won Barbara’s hand and her business. Well, now he too, was dead. All Sam felt was a flicker of sadness. Nobody deserved to die that way. Sorrow for her mother filled her. Sam knew well enough what it was like to be alone.

You were right, it didn’t take long. Sam dragged herself back from the past when she realized her travelling companion was tapping her on the arm. Peering out of the oval window she saw land coming up at them fast.

Sam fastened her seat belt, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. She’d made this trip often in the past four years, and never admitted her fear to anyone, but she hated landing and was never relaxed until the wheels hit the tarmac. Heaving a sigh when the plane taxied to a halt she turned to the woman with a smile as she looped the strap of her small travelling bag over a shoulder. I hope you have a happy time.

Thanks, I’m sure I will, the woman said, as they made their way out of the plane.

The sun caused a shimmer of haze to dance over the scorched concrete. It had been very hot for the first two weeks in February. Sam scanned the faces in the arrivals lounge, seeking out her mother’s dear face. Fanning herself with a magazine she strolled across the hall. The air-conditioning didn’t entirely cool it down and she flicked her hair back impatiently, wishing she’d had the forethought to coil her thick mane up on her crown.

Where was her mother? It wasn’t like Barbara to keep her waiting. Fumbling in her bag for her sunglasses she found them and then glanced towards the main door again.

A gasp caught in her throat as shock waves rippled through her. Her eyes became riveted on the man just entering the hall. Inside the door he halted, his long legs apart as he moved his gaze over the few people remaining there.

When his eyes met hers they stared at each other for what seemed like eons of time, but must have been mere seconds. Then he was striding towards her, that lithe grace of his stirring all the old feelings she’d thought buried long ago.

Her whole body quivered and time seemed suspended as the noise about her disappeared. Spontaneously her arms lifted as if in readiness of running into the cradle of his embrace. Pulling herself up sharply she clenched her fists, nearly cracking the glasses she still held.

He looked as cool as a mountain spring in a lightweight short-sleeved shirt and denim shorts, while she began to perspire freely. Her throat dried up like a cinder as he drawled in that once loved and always remembered voice, Hello Sam, how are you?

An expression flashed across his velvety brown eyes so swiftly it was gone before she had time to grasp its meaning. His ruthless assessment of her stripped away the veneer of sophistication garnered in the past four years, making her feel vulnerable and almost naked. Hadn’t he always been able to see past her defenses to see the real woman beneath?

What are you doing here? she asked with a harshness she knew was downright rude, as he bent to pick up the small case that sat by her legs. His eyes turned cold and impersonal. She knew she sounded bitter and reproachful. It was a struggle to stop her hands shaking as she made to take the bag from him. His smile held no warmth as he stepped aside with a small shake of the head.

What happened to hello and how are you, among the other inanities that usually accompany a greeting? he asked in such a brittle tone she flinched. Cupping her elbow in a palm he propelled her across the hall. I take it you do have other luggage? His brows rose as he led her to the baggage carousel.

Of course. I was about to collect it, she snapped.

In answer to your question, I’m here because your mother wasn’t feeling the best. I was coming into the city anyway, so offered to pick you up. He stared at the few remaining pieces of luggage going round on the platform. Sam tried to gain some of her lost equilibrium, wishing devoutly she could run from this man whose presence dragged up so many memories. Memories that wrenched at her heart until it became an agony.

What do you mean, Mum’s not the best? Sam ran her tongue over parched lips. By no means short, even with high heels, she had to lift her head to meet his eyes.

She has just lost a husband in a horrific car smash. The scorn in his remark made her cringe. His sensuous mouth, set in a grim line, revealed his disgust and disdain for her. Sam’s heart bled. We all know you hated the sight of Robert, but even you can’t be so unfeeling you can’t understand why Barbara is quite ill with grief.

That’s not fair! Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to allow them to fall in front of him. I didn’t hate him and it’s cruel to say I did.

Bending to retrieve her suitcase, she was pushed gently out of the way. He picked it up with ease. She nearly trotted to keep up with him as he strode out of the hall, one suitcase in each hand.

Once she’d been prepared to lay down her life for Mac; who now treated her as if she was something that crawled out of a sewer. For one moment of madness she wanted to laugh and beg him to slow down as she would have done years ago. But it only needed a glance at his set profile to assure her the time for jokes between them was long past. He hated her.

An egg could have been fried on the hot ground. Sam flinched at the heat as they went outside. Although used to the stifling midsummer heat in Melbourne, it was unusual for her home state to be this humid. How she wished she’d had the sense to remove her pantyhose in the ladies’ room. They clung stickily to her legs and even her cerise cotton dress with narrow shoulder straps was sticking to her body.

You didn’t have to put yourself out on my behalf, she thought to tell him as they walked across the car park.

In a way she knew was deliberately lustful he eyed the curves of her body before he said, No trouble. His gaze turned cold as he raked his eyes over her, from her wind-tossed hair to her ankles. They reached an off-road vehicle and he opened the back door, tossed her cases in, and then held the passenger door open for her. I’d do the same for any old friend, he added, as with slight difficulty, she got in. He didn’t offer her a helping hand and she wouldn’t have accepted it if he had. Once in the driver’s seat, he flicked on the air conditioning, and Sam sat back with a sigh as the cabin filled with cool air.

Tears pricked at the backs of her lids. It took all her willpower to hold them at bay. He turned to stare at her profile. The last person in the world who would see her cry would be him. She wished she knew what was going on in his head. Once she would have known—or thought she had.

Once, she would have come right out and asked him.