The Texas Rancher's Family Read online

  Nicholas’s face fell in disappointment. “Then you won’t be staying?”

  Mac looked at his chauffeur, who was standing near the door, then back at Heather. Although his daughter was happily playing with Sammy and Stevie in the corner of the room, she could easily have another meltdown soon. “I have my daughter with me.”

  “I don’t suppose you have dinner plans tonight?” Nicholas asked eagerly, before Erin could intervene. “Because if you don’t, I sure would appreciate it if you and your daughter could come out to our ranch and eat with all of us.”

  Mac looked at Erin. Her cheeks were flushed and she didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to impose...” he said.

  Oblivious to his sister’s discomfort, Nicholas rushed on with teenage impetuousness. “It wouldn’t be an imposition! We’re always inviting people new to the community over for dinner. As Erin says, when you’re already feeding seven or eight, what’s one or two more?”

  But this was different, Mac knew. She wouldn’t want him there with her entire family. On the other hand, it would be a perfect opportunity for him to speak with everyone at once. Find out how much work it would take to convince them his proposal was a good one.

  The hint of discord in her eyes indicated she was realizing the exact same thing. “Nicholas!” Erin interjected quickly, “Let’s not put Mr. Wheeler on the spot.”

  Or your sister, Mac thought. Although it was too late for that. He looked at his daughter, aware it was the first time he’d seen her smile in two days, and announced, “Actually, we’d love to come.”

  It would give him a chance to show Erin he wasn’t a bad guy.

  Nicholas grinned. “Is it okay if I invite a couple of my buddies from the environmental club, too?”

  Mac looked back at his would-be hostess.

  Seemingly as aware as he that everyone in the store had stopped to hear her answer, Erin flashed a smile, radiating a Texas-style hospitality that belied the cautiousness he could see in her gaze. “The more the merrier.”

  Or was it safety in numbers? Mac thought, wondering what would happen if the two of them were ever alone. Would the sparks continue to fly? Or would she ward him off with every ounce of grit she possessed?

  “What time would you like us to be there?” he asked casually, and was rewarded with a faint blush of pink in her cheeks.

  “Any time after seven would be good,” she allowed.

  “Great...see you then.”

  Heather didn’t want to leave the store, but finally assented when she realized she would be seeing Stevie and Sammy again in a few hours, this time at their ranch.

  “Daddy, will the ranch have animals?” she asked, after he’d settled the bill with the limo driver and rented an SUV to get around instead.

  Mac carried their suitcases into their room at the Laramie Inn. “I’m not sure.”

  “Can I have a dog?”

  “Honey, we talked about this. As long as I’m traveling so much...”

  Heather sighed, repeating his oft-said phrase, “It’s just not practical.”

  “But when things settle down at work, and I’m not required to be on the road nearly as much, then I promise I will get you a puppy. Okay?”

  Her expression turned glum.

  Mac could tell she really didn’t believe anything would ever change. She was still moody and quiet when they arrived at the Triple Canyon Ranch and drove through the black, wrought-iron gate.

  In the distance, Mac could see the rocky ridges and deep canyons the property had been named after. Near the highway, the topography was flatter. Live oak trees lined either side of the paved lane that led to the big, sprawling ranch house. A pitched brown roof draped majestically over the eaves. The second story was covered with dark brown cedar shakes, while the lower level was painted a light cocoa color. Bright white trim set off the windows and the dark brown front door. A covered porch spanned the width of the house, with a bench swing and matching chairs providing a comfortable seating area.

  It was a house built for multiple generations, with a pasture full of horses, a barn and stable nearby.

  Sammy and Stevie were shooting basketballs through a hoop next to the driveway. They waited until Mac parked the SUV, then dashed toward them. “Do you know how to play basketball?” they asked Heather.

  She shook her head.

  “Want to learn?”

  She shrugged shyly. “Maybe.”

  Erin walked out onto the porch.

  Mac was surprised to see she’d let her hair down. It glowed like rich honey in the early evening light, and flowed over her shoulders in thick, gorgeous curls. She was still in jeans, but had taken off the calico shirt and put on a short-sleeved, scoop-necked T-shirt that matched the peachy hue of her cheeks. Somehow, she seemed less businesswoman, more easygoing Mom. But every bit as sexy as before.

  “Guys, go easy on her, okay? You’ve got twenty minutes until you have to wash up.”

  “Okay, Mom!” Stevie answered.

  Her smile cordial, Erin ushered Mac inside. The interior was both rustic and homey, with wide-plank wood floors, colorful Southwestern rugs and sun-washed yellow walls. Big, comfortable-looking furniture was accented with lots of Texana memorabilia and family photos.

  She came closer in a drift of lilac perfume. “What can I get you to drink?” she asked almost too pleasantly.

  Mac reminded himself he wasn’t here to challenge her hospitality or to put the moves on her. He leaned against the white limestone fireplace that went all the way up to the cathedral ceiling of the main living area. “Iced tea, if you have it.”

  She pivoted and headed to the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

  Mac followed, his eyes on her hips.

  Erin paused to check on a casserole baking in the oven. “Nicholas went to pick up a couple of his friends. They’ll be back shortly, so prepare yourself for the nonstop questions about your line of work.”

  Mac had figured as much. He watched her plunk ice into a glass, noticing the lack of wedding ring on her hand. “What about the rest of your siblings?” And her husband? Where was he? Was she divorced? Widowed? Belatedly, he realized he should have done better research on the alluring woman in front of him.

  “Bridget and Bess won’t be here. They’re staying on campus in San Angelo, studying for an exam. Gavin should be home from the hospital soon, though.” Erin met Mac’s gaze for a long, highly charged moment.

  “I look forward to meeting him.”

  She nodded and handed him his iced tea, careful not to let their fingers touch, then turned away. “I’m going to check on the kids.”

  Mac trailed her back to the front of the house, where she glanced out a window. And promptly turned as pale as a ghost.

  Chapter Three

  For a moment, it was as if Erin had hurtled back through time, to what might have been. Heart constricting, she forced her eyes away from the sight of Heather riding bikes with the boys.

  She had to stop doing this, she told herself sternly. Stop thinking, remembering, wishing things had been different....

  Because they weren’t different—and never would be, no matter how she yearned to go back, find a different outcome.

  Her throat aching with the effort it took to hold back a sob, she swung away from the window.

  Mac was staring at her, his handsome face creased with concern. “What’s wrong?”

  Wishing he could pull her into his arms and comfort her—the way he’d comforted his daughter when she’d been upset—Erin rushed back through the house. Mac was right behind her.

  The logical side of her knew he deserved an explanation. This was the second time she’d reacted emotionally, in just a few hours. Because she couldn’t let go of the past.

  She lifted a palm. “It’s nothing.”

  “The hell it is,” he countered gruffly, refusing to let her cut and run.

  Feeling her body heat under his probing gaze, she tried again. “I just...I didn’t expect—” H
er voice broke, and she swallowed. He wasn’t going to give up until he knew, so she shook her head, forced herself to go on. “Angelica...”

  “Who’s Angelica?” he asked gently.

  Hot, bitter tears pushed at the back of her eyes. Her throat ached so badly she could barely speak. “My daughter. She died two years ago, when she was six.” Erin grabbed hold of the kitchen counter and shut her eyes. She could feel Mac next to her, hovering, patiently waiting for her to confide in him.

  He moved closer, and Erin felt a wave of comforting strength emanating from him. Eventually she choked out, “That was Angelica’s bike that Heather is riding.”

  “Would you like me to ask her to stop?” Mac’s voice sounded a little raspy, too.

  Swallowing hard, Erin opened her eyes and turned toward him. “No, of course not. Not when they’re all having such a good time. In fact, I haven’t seen my boys look so happy in a long time. Not since they had a little sister to play with.”

  Mac took a look at the photos strewn across the top of the kitchen hutch. One of a much younger Erin, and her brothers and sisters, standing with their parents. Another of Erin and her husband, surrounded by their three kids. The photos of Erin’s daughter caught his attention, too. Mac paused in shock. “Our daughters look so much alike,” he murmured.

  Erin nodded, her heart constricting again. Heather and Angelica might have been sisters. The two little girls had the same thick, curly blond hair and piquant faces, the same exuberance and zest for life. The only difference being that Erin’s child was dead now, while Mac’s was still very much alive.

  Erin couldn’t help but envy him that.

  He took her hand and led her into the family room. Too overwrought to protest, she followed numbly. “What happened?” He guided her to the sofa and sank down beside her.

  Erin made no protest when he slung a comforting arm around her shoulders. She didn’t often talk about this, but knew she needed to tonight. With him. She turned and looked into Mac’s eyes, still stunned about the unexpectedness of it all. “She had cancer.”

  He tightened his grip on her. His eyes were steady. Calm. And so filled with tenderness and compassion, she wanted to weep. “How long was she sick?” he asked quietly.

  Erin swallowed again. “Ten months.” Ten hellishly long, yet way-too-short months.

  “How did you find out?”

  Determined not to lose it again, she slid a shaking hand over her thigh. “The bike Heather’s riding...” Mac’s brow furrowed and Erin forced herself to continue, “Angelica learned to ride when she was four. It only took her a couple of weeks to master it without the training wheels, and she was so proud of herself. So happy to be out riding around the driveway with her big brothers. Then one day, when she was five and a half—” Erin’s voice broke at the memory of that last “completely normal” day “—she fell off for no reason anyone could see, and scraped up her hands and knees.”

  Mac grimaced in sympathy as the memories engulfed Erin.

  “That night she started complaining about her head hurting. Even though she’d been wearing a helmet, I was scared. I thought she might have hurt something in the fall, so I took her to the E.R. and had her checked out just to be sure.”

  The sorrow Erin felt, then and now, was mirrored in Mac’s eyes. “And that’s when they found the tumor that was affecting the ‘balance’ area of her brain,” she concluded brokenly.

  Mac drew her closer, until she was pressed against his side. His irises darkened. “You must have been terrified.”

  Erin had been. Knowing she needed to continue unburdening herself, as much as he needed to listen, she leaned into his comforting warmth. “My husband and I took Angelica to MD Anderson in Houston. They did surgery and chemotherapy and radiation. She lost all her beautiful hair.” And had cried and cried and cried, until she decided she liked being bald, anyway. “For a while, we thought she was going to be okay.” Erin released a shuddering sigh, beginning to feel her heart go numb again at the memory. “But then the tumor came back...and Angelica died about three months after that.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Mac embraced her. For a moment, Erin let herself be held against the solid warmth of his chest.

  Aware she could get a little too used to that, she drew away. Exhaled again.

  Mac let her go. He looked at her left hand, taking in the absence of a ring. “What happened to your husband?”

  Needing some space, after confiding so much, Erin stood and began to roam the room. In a choked voice, she admitted, “The same thing that happens to a lot of parents who have terminally-ill kids.” She pushed away the hurt and disappointment that lingered. “G.W. discovered he couldn’t handle the loss. And he left.”

  Mac had the same incredulous, disapproving reaction as most of their family and friends. “You’re divorced.”

  It was more a statement than a question.

  She nodded. “For over a year.”

  He looked as if he wanted to punch something. “Where is he now?”

  “All over the place. He’s a geologist. He works as a scout for an oil company.”

  “Does he have contact with your sons?” Mac asked.

  “Once every month or so he’ll call or come by, usually without warning.” She shrugged. “He sends child-support checks, though. I suppose we ought to be grateful for that.”

  Mac pondered that. “How do your kids feel?”

  Bitterness welled in her heart. It was one thing to be abandoned herself, another to watch her kids suffer through it. “How do you think? First they lose their sister. Then their dad leaves, too.”

  As Mac watched her in silence, guilt washed over her. It wasn’t as if any of this were his fault. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so short with you.”

  “Hey.” His lips quirked ruefully. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, for asking such an intrusive question. It’s just...Sammy and Stevie are such great kids, and it’s hard to imagine anyone walking away from them.”

  Erin felt the same.

  Silence fell once again.

  She peered at Mac through narrowed lashes, studying him curiously. “What about you? You’re here with your daughter, no wife in tow.”

  “Cassandra died of a pulmonary embolism two and a half years ago,” he said gruffly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded, accepting her condolences.

  Erin resisted the urge to comfort him with a touch, a hug, relying instead on a heartfelt look. “Is Heather still having a rough time?”

  “She was so young, she doesn’t remember a lot about her mother. But she misses her best friend, whose family used to take care of her when I was on the road.”

  Erin focused on the past tense. “Used to?”

  He exhaled roughly and shoved a hand through his hair. “Joel was promoted. He and Anna and their daughter, Stella, moved to Kansas last week. I hired a live-in nanny, but Heather pitched a fit. So I went back to Philadelphia, released the nanny from our contract and brought my daughter back here to Texas with me.”

  “You couldn’t just stay home in Philadelphia for a while?”

  He shook his head. “There’s too much riding on this wind-farm deal.”

  Erin let out a breath. “I see.” Obviously, Mac was one of those guys who would always put work first. Ahead of family, relationships, everything. Which was too bad for his daughter. Like Erin’s sons, Heather needed her one remaining parent, now more than ever.

  Mac squinted at Erin, his mood suddenly as pensive as hers. “I’m not sure you do understand...”

  Just then the front door slammed. Nicholas and four of his buddies sauntered in.

  The anticipated questions started for Mac. And that, Erin found, was the end of that.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME Erin had dinner ready, Gavin had dragged himself in the door, after a thirty-six-hour shift at the hospital. His eyes rimmed with fatigue, he said, “Storm’s coming, sis,” and went straight to bed.

 
Thinking they’d better eat soon if all her guests were to get home safely, Erin went out to the porch and rang the dinner bell.

  Stevie and Sammy put all three bikes in the garage and then dashed in, followed by Heather.

  “Sit between us. That way you can be next to both of us,” Stevie urged after they’d washed their hands.

  Another arrow to Erin’s heart. And yet...it was obvious that her boys hadn’t looked this happy and content in ages. She hadn’t realized until this very moment how much they needed another little girl to fill the void left in their lives, in the wake of Angelica’s passing.

  In the distance, Erin heard thunder. Spurred into action, she carried the piping hot baking dish of King Ranch casserole to the table, then returned to the stove for the big bowls of Mexican rice and refried beans. In honor of their youngest guest, Erin had also prepared a very kid-friendly version of mac’n’cheese, green beans and applesauce.

  As expected, Heather opted for the familiar, when it came time for her to choose.

  “So how long are you going to be in Laramie?” Nicholas asked Mac as everyone spooned food onto their plates.

  Mac spread his napkin on his lap. “Until I get approval from the county for a wind farm—and a ranch to put it on.”

  “You do know,” Nicholas volunteered, “that we’re not running cattle here anymore.”

  Erin gave him a cautioning glance.

  “So I heard,” Mac said, taking the opening.

  Nicholas looked at Erin, the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. “We might want to consider it.”

  And, Erin reflected silently, we might not. The last thing she needed was any connection at all to a man who was already on his way out of her life. Or would be, once his job here in Laramie County was done.

  Nicholas’s friend Bobby’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. “Uh-oh, that’s my mom.” Rising from the table, he walked off, phone to his ear. “Okay, okay. I’ll talk to Nicholas and get moving right now.”

  Bobby came back, a sheepish look on his face. “My mom says I’ve got to get home before the storm hits. I hate to eat and run, but...”

  The other boys shoveled in the last of their dinners and rose.