Bluebells on the Hill Read Online Free PDF

was
bold and distinctive, vibrant blues and golds contrasting with the
dark, natural wood. It was pleasant and inviting. Amanda thought
someone other than the disapproving owner must have decorated
it.
    She was drawn to the window on the left wall.
It was large, wide, overlooking the view she had seen from the
truck. Amanda stood in awe. The distant mountains rose to the sky,
acres and acres of trees blanketed the nearer ones. From this
vantage point, she realized the land did not drop off abruptly on
the far side of the house, but rather gradually descended until it
again met the forest. Two fenced fields with horses dozing in the
afternoon sun encompassed most of the grassy area stretched out
behind the house. To the far right, she could glimpse the barn.
    She heard the firm stride of his step as Mac
returned. Turning from the window, she moved to the sofa quickly
sitting, watching him warily as he entered the room.
    He had a Coke can and glass in one hand, a
beer in the other. Seeing her, he raised an eyebrow.
    'We're inside now, no sun.' He looked
pointedly at her glasses.
    Raising her hand, Amanda pushed them firmly
up on her nose, not tempted by his taunt. The door on the opposite
wall opened and a tall, lanky teenager emerged. Faint strains from
another of her recent records wafted out.
    'Turn that thing off, can't you?' Mac growled
out.
    The boy looked at him and smiled
cheekily.
    'Yeah, but when it's finished. Who's this?'
He turned to Amanda. He was tall and very thin, with reddish hair
and pale blue eyes. Amanda judged him to be near sixteen years of
age, but couldn't be sure. She was not particularly good at
guessing ages.
    'I'm Mandy Smith.' She stood and held out her
hand. Would he recognize her from the CD cover?
    'Probably made up,' he replied, winking at
her, grasping her hand in a firm handshake.
    'Is that what you think?' Amanda was
surprised. Good heavens, he was as bad as Mac!
    'Not me,' he protested laughing.
    Amanda spun to Mac. 'Is that what you think,
then?' When he made no reply, she continued, 'At least I gave you a
name. I don't know yours.'
    'You do, you said it the other day at
Cora's.'
    'Mac, that's all, and I guessed that. Don't
you have another? A first, or last?'
    'Oh boy, that's good! So much for teaching me
manners, Dad,' the boy jeered.
    Dad! This was certainly a day for surprises.
Amanda looked from one to the other. Father and son. They didn't
look it, except for maybe height. Mac was much more substantial,
more rugged. The boy's features, while still youthfully immature,
were more finely drawn. She wondered how old Mac was, she would
have to revise her estimate. He didn't look older than thirty-five,
yet to be the father of this boy ...
    'My apologies, Miss Smith. I'm John Mackenzie
This is my son, John-Michael,' Mac replied in an angry voice.
Turning to his son, he continued, 'Did you get the stable mucked
out like I asked?'
    'Yeah, it's done. I'm going to get a Coke.
Don't let my old man bully you, Miss Smith.' He smiled at her,
swung wide when passing his father, headed to the kitchen.
    Mac put the drinks on the table before the
sofa. 'Want a glass?'
    'No, the can is fine. Do you have any other
children, Mr Mackenzie?'
    He smiled sardonically. 'Mac'll do. I have no
intention of calling you Miss Smith for the short time we'll know
each other.'
    She took a long drink of the Coke, letting
the provocative remark slide. What did he want? Why was she here?
She glanced at him again, glad for the sunglasses sheltering her a
little from him. His presence was overpowering. She needed all the
defenses she could muster.
    Mac removed his hat, tossing it on a table
near the door, running the fingers of his right hand through the
flattened copper-colored waves. Amanda felt an involuntary stirring
of interest. He was devastatingly attractive. She hadn’t noticed
his hair before because of his hat. What a striking combination
with his tanned skin and green eyes. Did the man realize it? Was he
aware