Beneath The Texas Moon. Elle James
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He shook his head, a frown denting his brow.
Eve sighed, but she didn’t push him. The doctors had told her he’d come out of that shell on his own, given time and patience.
The truck stopped in front of the house, and Mac and another man climbed down. The two men were as different as storm clouds and sunshine—one dark and brooding, the other quite a few years older, but sunny and grinning.
With a deep, calming breath, Eve stepped from the porch and approached the men.
“Ms. Baxter…my foreman Daniel Goodman.” Mac’s voice contained as little expression as his unreadable face. “Daniel, Eve Baxter.”
Eve held out her hand to the older man. With a leather tool belt draped around his hips, complete with tape measure, hammer and other tools hanging from loops, he looked the part of the capable handyman. His features were sun-dried, weathered lines boring into the corners of his eyes from squinting in the sun.
Daniel’s hair had been dark perhaps in his youth, but now was heavily salted with gray, growing longish around his ears, as if he’d forgotten to get it cut. He smiled at her as he gripped her hand and pumped it. “Nice to meet you, Eve,” he said. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on this house. Old lady Felton never wanted to change a thing.”
“It looks like it.” Eve laughed at Daniel’s exuberance, caught up in his excitement. “I think the kitchen predates World War Two.”
“I’m sure it does.” Daniel glanced behind Eve. “And who do we have here?”
Eve turned and almost stepped on Joey. “Hi, sweetie,” she said. “Come meet Daniel.” She nudged him forward.
Daniel knelt to eye-level with Joey and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, little buddy.”
Joey stared from Daniel’s hand to his face and back.
Eve held her breath, hoping he’d take the hand.
Her son had other plans. Joey turned to Mac, lifted both arms and stood on tiptoe.
Without missing a beat, Mac swung the child up in one arm. “Hey, big guy, what do you say you and I check out the yard while your mom and Daniel talk about the house?”
Joey nodded and hooked his arm around Mac’s neck.
As Mac strode toward the gnarled live oak in the middle of the yard, Eve marveled at the contrast between Mac and Joey—one small and fragile, the other larger than life and powerful. For a child still displaying residual signs of the trauma he’d suffered, Joey had taken to Mac like a long lost friend. Eve wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, Joey’s alliance with Mac could help bring him out of his long silence. On the other hand, Eve didn’t want Mac hanging around.
He disturbed her.
“I see I have some work to do with Joey,” Daniel said. “Mac sure has him won over, though. But that’s Mac for you. He doesn’t even try, and people are ready to lay down their lives for him.”
“I’m amazed it’s happened so fast.” Despite her reservations, she knew a friendship with Mac could only be good for her son. “Joey could use a friend right now, and those two clicked from the start.”
“Actually, Mac needs someone as well.”
Daniel’s words were spoken so softly, Eve thought she might have imagined them. Besides, Mac appeared very much in charge of his life. What benefit could he gain from a four-year-old?
The man in the black Stetson seated Joey on a low-hanging branch and pointed up into the leaves.
Eve thought this was how a father and son should look. She sighed at the futility of the idea. Mac wasn’t Joey’s father and never would be. The closest he could get was stepfather. And Eve was determined to spare Joey from the same kind of pain she’d experienced while living under her stepfather’s roof.
“How’d Joey get the scar on his forehead?” Daniel’s question cut into Eve’s thoughts.
She hesitated, her mind still mulling over the picture Mac and Joey presented.
Daniel hurried on. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.”
“No, I don’t mind,” she replied. “He was attacked by a dog. The same dog killed his father.”
“Damn.” Daniel shook his head. “Poor little guy.”
Tearing her gaze from Mac and Joey, Eve asked, “How’d Mac get his scar?”
He tipped his head in Mac’s direction. “Didn’t he tell you?” He shook his head in answer to his own question. “Of course, he wouldn’t.”
“I just met Mac yesterday. We’ve barely said more than a few sentences to each other.”
“Mac was in the Army up until three months ago.” Daniel examined his boots then he glanced up into her eyes, his gaze seemed to look beyond her, beyond Texas.
“Was?” Eve sensed Daniel’s reluctance to go on.
“Yeah.” He stared at Mac’s back. “He was so proud to serve his country. He was in the Special Forces.” Daniel inhaled deeply and blew out through his nose.
“What happened?” She touched a hand to his arm.
Daniel glanced at her, his eyes narrowing. Then, with an imperceptible nod he answered, “From what I could get out of him, his unit was ambushed while on a mission in Iraq. Mac took a bullet to his forehead and one in the leg.”
Eve covered her mouth to hold back a gasp.
“The man’s hardheaded. Only knocked him out.” Daniel nodded in Mac’s direction. “The leg wound meant he would never again go into battle. Next thing I know, he’d resigned his commission. Quit the Army.” Digging his hands into his pockets, Daniel rocked back on his heels. “If you ask me, he hasn’t been the same since. He works till he drops every day. I quit trying to keep up with him.”
“How awful,” Eve said. No wonder Joey and Mac were drawn to each other.
“Hey, don’t say anything to Mac,” Daniel said. “He’d kick me from here to tomorrow if he knew I’d told you.”
“I won’t say anything.”
Daniel rubbed his hands together. “I came to renovate one very old and needy house. Where do you want to begin?”
Eve forced herself to concentrate on the task and led Daniel through the house. From one room to the next, she told him what she envisioned, and he gave her pointers and suggestions. When the tour was complete, they left through the front door.
Daniel marched the length of the weathered porch bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Some of these boards are warped and need to be replaced, and this column is practically rotted through. I’m surprised the roof isn’t sagging. The good news is that the electricity was replaced fifteen years ago, the bad news is the exterior paint’s peeling and the plumbing needs work. This renovation is going to cost.”
“I expected as much. I’ve got the money set aside.” Eve’s gaze scanned the yard for her son. “Let me check on Joey.”
“Great. I’ll be just a minute,” Daniel said.
While Daniel measured the boards, Eve ambled around the side of the house in search of Joey and Mac.
They squatted in a corner of the yard staring at the dirt.
Mac pointed down and talked in a low, steady tone, his words inaudible at that distance.
Joey listened, his eyes round and eager.
Mac reached over, pressed Joey’s foot into the dust and lifted it straight up. He pointed to the print Joey’s shoe had made and to something in the dirt next to it.
Joey