Читать книгу The Texas Rancher's Family - Cathy Gillen Thacker - Страница 11

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 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.

Erin looked at Nicholas. “Drive safe. And come right home after you drop everyone off.”

“Will do, sis.” He ushered his friends out.

The rest of them finished eating. As Erin rose to clear the table and get dessert, thunder rumbled again in the distance.

She took the peach cobbler out of the oven, then flipped on the TV to check the local weather report.

Mac set a stack of dishes next to the sink, then moved to stand beside her. “Everything okay?”

Maybe not, Erin thought. She nodded at the Doppler radar on the screen. As much as she hated to be a nervous Nellie... “Actually, Mac, there is reason to be concerned.” She pointed out the big wave of green and the smaller cells of yellow and red. “Storms out here can be—” she thought about Heather, who was listening intently, and chose her next words carefully “—rather, um, virulent.”

Mac’s lifted his eyebrows. “Should we be on our way, too?”

Heather’s face fell. She looked at Stevie and Sammy, who seemed equally disappointed. Erin took another look at the TV screen. As much as she hated to admit it... “It’s probably too late for that, given the direction you’re headed.” Nicholas’s friends all lived on ranches close by. Mac had a nearly forty-minute drive to the Laramie Inn, in good weather. This wasn’t that.

Since she had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t believe her, Erin led him out to the back porch. Sure enough, about a mile or so away they could see dark clouds stretching from sky to ground. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. In the yard, the wind was whipping up, rattling the window screens and bending the trees.

Mac’s dismissive glance let her know he wasn’t worried. “The SUV I rented has all-wheel drive.”

“The problem is the low water crossings,” Erin returned, knowing spring storms in Texas could be fiercer than he knew. “A lot of the creek beds are dry and filled with debris. They’ll wash over quickly and the roads will likely be flooded till morning.”

A fact that made leaving the ranch extremely dangerous. “You and Heather would really be safer staying here.”

* * *

MAC HAD EXPECTED a lot of things this evening. An argument over the advisability of a wind farm as a solution to Laramie County’s current energy shortage. A division between Monroe family members, some wanting to sell out, others not. Even some minor dickering over the price his company was willing to pay.

However, he hadn’t expected to hear about the most difficult times of Erin’s life. Or to have dinner in such a warm and homey atmosphere. Or to see his own little girl, who was so often lonely, fit right in with Erin’s boys.

It all made him want to keep coming back to the Triple Canyon Ranch.

And not on business.

Which was why he should head back to town. Now.

“That’s very kind of you to offer,” he told Erin. “But you really don’t have to put us up for the night.”

She gave him a wry once-over, letting him know what a gringo she deemed him to be. Mac found himself grinning back. Chemistry sizzled between them, more electric than the supercharged air outside. Wanting her, Mac knew, would be a lot more dangerous to him than a simple thunderstorm.

“Texas hospitality kind of says I do,” Erin quipped. “After all, it wouldn’t be neighborly of me to turn you and your daughter out in this.”

Mac looked away from the softness of her lips. He needed to be a gentleman here. “I appreciate your concern, Erin, but I assure you, I’ve driven in storms before. And before you point out that the country roads can be confusing around here, I’d like to remind you that I found my way to the ranch. I can find my way back to town.” Mostly, Mac thought, because his smartphone had GPS. Had he relied only on road signs—which were few and far between—and the directions she had given him, he’d have been up a creek.

The power flickered briefly as Erin led the way back into the house. The kids had moved from the kitchen table to a jigsaw puzzle set up on the game table in the family room.

“The point is, you don’t have to. We have plenty of room here. And...” Erin cast another look at his daughter, who was sitting with her head propped up on her hand “Heather looks exhausted.”

Mac couldn’t argue that point. She did appear tired. Barely able to keep her eyes open.

Lightning zigzagged across the sky, followed by a house-rattling clap of thunder. “How about I show you the guest quarters before you make up your mind?”

Reminding himself that he was doing this for his daughter, Mac nodded and followed Erin up the stairs.

Once again it had been a mistake to let her go first. All he could see when he glanced up was the graceful sway of her hips as she climbed the steps. The sexy spill of her hair, brushing across her shoulders. The hem of her T-shirt caressing her slender waist. Lower still were long, sleek thighs encased in the sky-blue jeans, and sexy calves disappearing into the tops of her custom peacock-blue boots.

Damn, but she was one attractive woman.

Oblivious to his admiring glance, Erin turned at the newel post and led the way down a long hallway. They passed what must be her sons’ rooms, and then paused in the doorway of a third.

It was sparsely decorated and painted a pale pink.

Mac had a feeling he knew whose room this had been, so he kept a respectful distance as Erin pulled out a trundle bed that was half the height of the other mattress. “You’ll be able to sleep right next to Heather,” she said, patting the crisp sheets. “Whether on the lower or higher bed is up to you. And the boys’ rooms are right next door, so I imagine that will comfort Heather.”

Erin was right—it would. Mac studied her expression as the power flickered briefly once again.

Thunder rumbled closer.

“You’re sure it’s okay?” he rasped, wishing she would give him some reason not to want her.

“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t,” she murmured, her eyes telling him she was as affected by his presence as he was by hers.

They exchanged glances, and an intimacy Mac hadn’t expected welled up between them. Decision made, he ignored the punch of desire in his gut. Just because he felt it didn’t mean he had to act on it.

He nodded agreeably. “Then we’ll bunk here for the night.”