The Highest Bidder. Maureen Child
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have to run off. The kitchen is big enough for both of us.”
Not from where she was standing. Whenever Carter entered a room, he commanded all the space and Macy saw nothing else. “Gotcha.”
“Where are you going anyway?”
“Just exploring. I thought I’d stretch my legs and take a walk.”
He blinked and a look of concern crossed his features. “I should probably go with you the first time.” He gulped down the rest of his beer.
“You think I’ll get lost?”
“It’s a big ranch.”
“I’m a big girl.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ve got GPS.”
He clearly didn’t find her amusing. “Come with me,” he said. Thankfully, he didn’t take her hand. It was one thing to hold his hand when they were running down an alley to safety, and another altogether while alone in his big, gorgeous house. She followed him to his bedroom and waited at the doorway while he searched through a walk-in closet. He pulled a red plaid shirt off a hanger and she noted how he scrutinized it for a long few seconds. Macy noticed a few other female things hanging in his closet before he turned to her. “Here you go.”
She balked at wearing Jocelyn’s clothes and shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“You don’t want to wear it?” Carter’s voice rose in question.
“Not my style.” She didn’t want anything to remind him of the woman who’d jilted him. Why add insult to injury?
His gaze touched on the small cleavage exposed by her tank top, and silently she drew a breath. “Fair enough. Soon as I can, I’m gonna give this stuff to charity anyway. You got anything to wear besides white jeans?” He focused on her pants, and Macy’s throat nearly constricted. “Those will stick out like a sore thumb around here.”
“I wasn’t planning on ranch living when I packed for New York.”
“I’ll take you into town to get some clothes tomorrow. Maybe some boots, too.”
He reached into his closet again and came up with a tan-colored felt hat. He set it onto her head. “This is one of mine,” he said, giving her a solid look. “Pretty good disguise, too. Those long curls of yours are bound to cause attention.”
Macy tucked her hair under the hat.
He gave her a look of approval. “Put on your shades, and we’re good to go.”
Macy stood in the center of a broken-down gazebo and swirled around with her arms outstretched. A joyous smile lifted her lips. If she flung her hat into the air, it would be reminiscent of Mary Tyler Moore’s famous opening scene, and Macy would do it if Carter wasn’t standing a short distance away, watching her every move.
Yes, the gazebo was broken down, the pristine white paint chipped from age and neglect, with much of the structure unsupported. But the floor would make a good-size stage, and the grounds themselves could be amazing with a little tender loving care.
Right now, the actress in her envisioned young children sitting on the gazebo’s wooden steps, cold reading, learning techniques to perform upon the stage.
Rocky sat on dry grass, watching her, too. “It’s perfect,” she whispered, reluctant to leave, her mind spinning with possibilities. Carter waited at the back door of the inn. He’d taken her here to show her the seventy-year-old structure that was also abused by neglect. The relic sat one mile into McCay property, and before they’d gotten inside, Macy had spotted the gazebo that drew her like a magnet.
She glanced at Carter, who was waiting and watching her. “Okay, Rock. Looks like we have to go.”
When she reached Carter, he gestured toward the gazebo. “I’m thinking about tearing it down.”
“No! You can’t do that.”
Carter’s brows furrowed at her outburst. “Why not?”
“It’s wonderful, that’s why not. It could be grand again with a little work.”
“It’s dangerous. It won’t hold in a storm.”
“Can it be braced?”
Carter scoffed at that, and Macy thought he was being unreasonable. But what did it matter anyway? She wouldn’t be teaching here, or anyplace else for that matter.
Carter showed her around the six-bedroom inn that had come with the land he’d purchased as an expansion of his uncle’s original property. Macy had to give him credit for being a self-made man. He’d taken an old run-down ranch and built an empire.
Already, in the half day she’d been here, she had seen how different his life was than the flaky phoniness of Hollywood. They were worlds apart.
Carter showed her the dilapidated upstairs bedrooms. Five of the rooms were dusty, the walls a mess of stained old wallpaper and filthy warped floors. Just as he was about to lead her down the staircase again, Macy pointed to one room at the end of the hallway. “Wait, Carter. What’s in there?”
Carter hesitated, his expression closed off. Before he could answer, Macy, too curious for her own good, walked toward the door and pushed it open. She poked her head inside. “Oh wow. This is…amazing.” She turned to him in surprise. “It’s completely refurbished.”
He frowned. “I know. It’s just one room.”
Macy glanced at the freshly painted walls, the king-size bed decorated with a brown silk comforter and the polished wood floors. “It’s a picture of what the whole house could look like.”
Carter’s mouth twisted again, as if he’d bitten into a sour lemon. “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”
He turned and started for the stairs.
Macy closed the door softly and followed him downstairs, a dozen questions filling her mind.
They wound up in the kitchen. Cobwebs in the corner of the ceilings made her arms itch. Carter stood by a bay window, looking out. “Do you think it’s worth fixing up?”
“Yes, of course. It’s full of charm.”
He shrugged. “For some, it’s charming. For others, it’s old and run-down, just like a lot of places around here.”
Panic rose in her throat. “You’re not seriously thinking about destroying this place?”
“It’s an eyesore on the property.”
Macy doubted that. The house wasn’t set on the highway, but deep into Carter’s land. No one could find the place, much less see it, unless they were searching for it. “With a little time and effort, the house could really shine. You could open it to the public and rent out rooms or use it as a guesthouse.”
He contemplated for a few moments, then gave her a nod, as if her opinion mattered. “I’ll think about it.”
They left the inn and walked along the river’s edge. Macy let the peace and calm settle into her bones. The quiet surge of the water glistening under the Texas sun soothed and filled her with ease.
“This is exactly what I needed,” she whispered.
“Wild River does that.” It was a statement of fact, one that wasn’t up for interpretation. Carter truly loved this place.
Cottonwoods shaded them as they strolled on, Rocky at Carter’s heels. She felt safe here, out in the middle of nowhere, living with a stranger. Carter had hardly known her before offering up his home, and with him by her side, Macy felt protected.
“I’m glad you invited me here,” she said, holding back another round of thanks. She didn’t want to sound like a broken record.
He looked toward the river, his eyes squinting against the rays of sunlight. “Stay as long as you need, Hollywood.”