The Texas Rancher's Family. Cathy Gillen Thacker
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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—” Her 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