The Highest Bidder. Maureen Child
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and a bedspread with yellow and blue flowers. Macy walked over to the window. “Looks like I get the sunsets.”
Carter sidled up next to her, and her fresh scent tickled his nose and brought memories of picking peaches on summer days. He inhaled deep and long, surprised that he hadn’t noticed her scent before. Fruit-infused soap or shampoo, or whatever the hell it was, wasn’t what he’d expected from a Hollywood actress with a legendary mother. “You won’t be disappointed. They’re mighty glorious.”
Macy sighed.
Carter’s stomach grumbled, and he didn’t apologize. He had an enormous appetite. “Ready for lunch?”
She glanced at the bed, then at him. “I, uh, I’m fine right now. You go on. I’m going to rest a little.”
“Okay, you know where the kitchen is. Henry will have made up something delicious by now. Have at it, anytime you want.”
“Henry? He’s the cook?”
Carter gave her a wry smile. Hers wasn’t an unusual reaction. Henry often surprised people. “His wife, Mara, took ill this week. Turns out, Henry’s a pretty good cook. We share duties at Wild River. But Henry doesn’t do windows, or any other cleaning. Mara does that. She’ll be back tomorrow to help clean up his mess. Oh, and feel free to use the pool, the sauna or the spa, anytime you want.”
“Thank you, Carter.”
He nodded. “Dinner’s at seven. See you then.”
Carter walked down the hallway to his room and tossed his suitcase down, then hightailed it outside to speak with Henry.
He found him in the office/tack room, just outside the barn. “Need a word with you, Henry.”
“Sure, boss. But I got some news for you, too. I didn’t want to speak in front of the lady before.”
“All right, you first.”
Henry began, “The inn over by the river got broken into while you were gone. A window was smashed and doesn’t appear that there’s any other damage. Window’s already been replaced. Thought I’d tell you. It’s not the first time it’s happened though. Bucky reported someone snooping around over there, but they’d taken off by the time he’d driven up.”
Carter rubbed at his neck. He hated the thought of anyone messing with his property. He’d been trying to decide whether to refurbish the inn or tear it down.
“I met an old guy in town the other day. He was pretty sharp and looking for work. Thought maybe he’d make a good groundskeeper. You know, someone to check the property and make sure nothing’s disturbed.”
Carter mulled it over for a second. With Macy Tarlington staying at Wild River, a little extra security wouldn’t hurt. “It’s not a bad idea, Henry. Why don’t you give him an interview and get back to me.”
“Will do. Now, what can I do for you?”
“That woman I brought here today—do you recognize her?”
Henry jerked back a bit, surprised. “Should I?”
Relieved, Carter gave a shake of the head. “Maybe not. It’s good that you don’t, actually. But Mara might.”
And Carter spent the next ten minutes explaining to his foreman about Macy and how important it was to keep her identity a secret. Carter didn’t think any of the ranch hands would recognize the daughter of a Hollywood legend since Macy had kept herself under the radar until recently, but their wives and girlfriends might. It was a chance they’d have to take. For the most part, folks kept to themselves, and for as long as he could, he’d make sure Macy got some privacy on his ranch.
Macy glanced around the room that would be her sanctuary and shook her head. “You are plum crazy, girl,” she muttered, picking up Carter’s Texas drawl. “Coming to live with the tall, tan, too-good-to-be-true Texan.”
She flopped onto the bed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it to her chest. She’d been lured to Wild River by her own curiosity and a brand-new sense of adventure. But while that was all true, she hadn’t been completely honest with Carter about the diamond ring he’d bought at auction, and as a result he’d become the diamond’s latest victim. She couldn’t blame him for being bitter and cautious now about relationships. Macy felt the same way. She’d seen her mother fall in love three times, and all three times had been a disaster.
She no longer believed in love or happily-ever-afters. She didn’t know too many couples who’d sustained their marriages more than a decade. And living in Hollywood, she’d known the truth about the few long-term marriages, too. It seemed that no one was happy for long. Very few of those marriages had held firm to their commitment.
Sad but true.
Giving in to fatigue, Macy relaxed back on the bed and closed her eyes. To hell with unpacking. She wasn’t going to be pragmatic now. She was taking a break from reality. No lawyers right now. No tabloids. No worry about saying the wrong thing. No one hounding her.
A sudden movement on her bed startled her, and the scent of rawhide followed. She snapped her eyes open. She’d been wrong. She was being hounded, but she didn’t mind the nuzzling. She could get used to this. “Hello, Rocky.”
The dog curled his body next to hers and laid his head down. She looked into his big caramel eyes and smiled. Carter had been right. His ranch had everything.
An hour later, refreshed from her nap, Macy showered and changed into fresh clothes, a pair of white jeans and an indigo tank top. Her hair was still wet when she drew it back into a ponytail. Five minutes in the Texas heat would dry it.
She thought better about stepping into flip-flops and opted for her Nikes. Carter had given her half an hour to pack before the car had come for her at the hotel. As it was, she’d packed only enough clothes to last her through a short stay in New York, and not too much was suitable for ranch living.
“Guess I’m going to do some shopping while I’m here,” she muttered to Rocky.
The dog wagged his tail at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t left her side since he’d plopped onto the bed. They’d enjoyed the nap together, and he’d sat outside the shower door while she was cleaning up.
Macy grinned at him. “You want to show me around after lunch?”
Another tail wag.
Macy found the kitchen easily. It wasn’t hard to miss, and it was definitely Texas-size with wood beamed ceilings, homey tiled counters and a table big enough for a small army. She rummaged through the double-door refrigerator, coming up with brisket and swiss cheese. She was too hungry to go to any more trouble than throwing a sandwich together. She slapped mustard on sourdough bread and made quick work of eating her lunch. Every so often, she’d pull off a piece of beef and toss it to Rocky.
He gobbled it without chewing.
“No doubt he’ll be your friend for life.”
She spun around so fast, her ponytail whipped her cheek. She found Carter leaning against the kitchen doorway, staring at her. He flicked his gaze over her in one sweep and then focused on Rocky, but it was enough to freeze all movement in her chest. She cleared her throat and wondered when she’d stop reacting to him this way. “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t be feeding him this, uh—”
Carter sauntered into the kitchen. “He eats anything.” He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and offered her one.
“No, thanks.”
“And refuses nothing. At least, I’ve never seen my father’s dog deny himself a meal of any kind.”
“Good to note.”
“Out of necessity,” he added. “He wasn’t always fed.”
“Oh.” The dog used to belong to Carter’s father. Macy connected the dots. They stood facing each other and she watched