Читать книгу Beneath The Texas Moon - Elle James - Страница 11

The rumble of an engine and the crunching sound of tires on gravel sent Eve to the front door. She shielded her eyes against the morning sun, staring up the driveway at the approaching charcoal gray pickup truck. Her heart sped up when she recognized it as the one Mac had driven the day before.

She touched her fingers to her hair then brushed away imaginary flecks of dust from her faded jeans and baggy T-shirt. Why was she getting all fidgety over the men scheduled to work on her house? Yet she couldn’t stop the errant flutter of her heart as she stepped through the doorway to stand on the front porch.

Joey remained behind the screen door, peering out from the safety of the house.

“Aren’t you coming out?” she asked. “It’s Mac. The man from the store yesterday.”

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 eyes lit with excitement at Eve’s approach. He ran to her side, grabbed her hand and tugged her in Mac’s direction. When they reached him, Joey poked a finger toward the powdery white dirt typical of the dry Texas hill country.

A perfect track of tiny shoe treads was set in the limestone dust.

“Is that your print, Joey?” Eve smiled at her son.

His head bobbed, and he pointed to the indentations next to his shoe print.

“What is it?” Eve asked.

“A deer track.” Mac stood and brushed his hands along the sides of his jeans.

Eve’s heart stirred. Mac had been showing Joey how to read tracks in the dirt. It was one of those man-things she would never have thought to teach her son. She frowned. This was the first time she’d considered how much Joey would miss by not having a father in his life. But a father was totally different from a stepfather. A father usually cared. Although, Joey’s father had cared more for his dogs than his son. The odds were even worse with a stepfather. Hers hadn’t cared, and he’d proven it over and over.

She straightened and looked up into Mac’s eyes, immediately wishing she hadn’t. This man had an effect on her, and she wasn’t so sure she liked it.

“If you’re through with my foreman, we have livestock to tend.” His voice was low and resonant.

Assimilating his words, Eve looked up and repeated, “Livestock? What kind of livestock?”

“Cattle and goats. One of our breeder nannies disappeared some time over the past two days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

Mac shrugged and rubbed a hand over Joey’s head. “See ya later, big guy. Bet if you look around, you’ll find more tracks.”

Joey hugged Mac around the kneecaps, and not two seconds later, he darted across the yard, stopping every two or three steps to check the ground.

Eve smiled at Mac. “I’m impressed.”

A frown settled between his eyes. “About what?”

“I haven’t seen Joey this carefree in months.” Eve swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thanks.”

“He’s a great kid.” Mac’s gaze followed her son around the yard.

“I’m ready when you are.” Daniel said as he sauntered over to the corner where Mac and Eve stood. He smiled and nodded toward Eve. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.” The foreman climbed into the truck.

As Mac turned to follow, Joey raced up and grabbed his hand, tugging him back toward the house.

“I have to go now, Joey,” Mac said. But he allowed the child to drag him a few more feet.

Joey pointed at a dry patch of dirt, and then looked up at the cowboy.

“Another track?” Mac squatted next to him. “Looks like a dog’s print.”

Joey’s little body stiffened, and his glance darted from side to side as if he expected to see the dog. Then he spun and raced for the house.

Mac straightened and planted his hat on his head.

“Don’t worry.” Eve said. “He’ll get over it.”

Mac frowned down at the track. “Do you own a dog?”

“No,” Eve answered. “Why?”

“This track is recent and fairly large.”

“I heard an animal howl last night and it sounded pretty close.” That eerie sound had echoed in her head until the wee hours. “Do you think it was the same one that left the print?”

“Most likely. You might want to keep an eye out for it.”

“Do you think it could be dangerous?” A trickle of fear edged into her belly.

“Any strange animal could be dangerous. Wild animals usually don’t stray close to town, but with you being on the edge, they don’t always know the boundaries.”

Mac nodded toward the house where Joey stood behind the porch rail, staring through the slats. “Just keep an eye out.” He climbed in beside Daniel and the truck rumbled away.

Eve stared down at the dog track. Despite the heat of the Texas sun beating its late morning rays through the breaks in the clouds, goose bumps rose on her arms.

She shook back her concerns and took off for the house and the mountains of work awaiting her.

On the porch, she gathered Joey in her arms and hugged him close, inhaling his little-boy scent of dust and baby shampoo.

As she reached for the doorknob, the roar of an engine drew her attention back to the driveway, and she glanced up, half hoping Mac and his foreman had forgotten something. Instead of a truck, a shiny black Lexus pulled into the yard.

A man dressed in a gray suit stepped out of the car, brushing the fabric of his jacket smooth of wrinkles. Although of similar height and build to Mac McGuire, this man was strikingly handsome in a polished way, unlike Mac’s rough exterior. His pale blue-gray eyes shown beneath sooty black brows and hair sprinkled with gray. Yet, despite the gray, he appeared to be about thirty.

He smiled, his grin engaging. He looked every bit the confident and successful businessman. “Ms. Baxter?”

“That’s me.” Eve returned his smile.

“Hi, I’m Clint Logan, mayor of Spirit Canyon.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to our little town.”

Eve shifted Joey onto one arm and reached out to shake the mayor’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Clint enveloped her hand in both of his and squeezed, holding on longer than necessary for a simple handshake.

Eve shrugged it off as the typical politician. When he finally let go, she rubbed her hand down the side of her jeans and stepped back, inserting a little distance.

With his cheek pressed against her neck, Joey clutched the front of her shirt.

“As the mayor, I like to welcome new members of our community. I make it a habit to get to know all my constituents on a personal basis.”

Eve’s mouth quirked up on one side. “In a town the size of Spirit Canyon, that can’t be too hard.”

“True.” Clint chuckled. “I hear you’re helping with the Harvest Festival preparations. Did Addie strong-arm you into it?”

Defensive of her new friend, Eve hurried to reassure him, “No, no. I’m looking forward to helping. Addie said it would be an opportunity to meet some of the other people in the county.”

“I’m sure a pretty lady like you won’t have any problems meeting people. Folks love newcomers. Shoot, they welcomed me with open arms not five years ago, fresh out of law school.”

“So, you’re not a native of Spirit Canyon?” Eve asked.

“No, unfortunately. I’m from farther south, down by the border, outside Laredo.”

“That’s very impressive to be elected mayor after living here only five years.”

“I think I got voted in because no one else wanted the job,” he said with a wry grin.

Eve smiled. Clint was charming and good to look at. A very polished businessman. Quite a contrast to Mac McGuire.

“What are your plans, now that you’re here?” he asked her. “Do you need a job?”

“No.” She waved a hand toward the two-story house with the sagging porch. “I’m hoping to turn the old house into a bed and breakfast.”

“That’s wonderful.” Clint clapped his hands together. “The town could use a new bed and breakfast. Why don’t we discuss your business plans over dinner? Perhaps I can give you some pointers, maybe even some legal advice on how to get started.”

Eve hadn’t expected a dinner invitation and she stammered a reply, “Thanks, b-but, I can’t.”

“Can’t?” Clint’s eyebrows rose.

Eve hurried to clarify her refusal. “I have so much to do to get the house in order so that I can open by Christmas.”

“Surely you can spare some time to eat a bite?”

“Maybe another time.” She wasn’t sure she really meant it, but at least it bought her time to think about his offer. She could use the legal advice, but she’d rather not be in a one-on-one situation with a man.

Then why did her mind instantly recall that little intimate jolt of electricity she’d experienced the day before with Mac? She shook aside the memory and smiled at the mayor. “Thanks, anyway.”

“If you decide differently, I’m in the office building two doors down from the General Store.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said aloud. And avoid it, she added silently. Now was not the time to complicate her life.

Clint smiled again, climbed into his Lexus and rolled the window down. “Nice to meet you, Eve.”

“Uh, Mayor Logan?” She walked toward his car.

“Ma’am?”

“Are wolves native to this part of Texas?”

His brows rose and he tipped his head to the side. “We don’t get a whole lot of them this far south. We have been known to have coyotes around here, though. Why?”

“Just curious. What with all the problems the ranchers are having.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re in town. Most animals won’t come near a town. Now, if there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks.” Eve forced a smile and waved. Clint’s answer to her question hadn’t made her any less nervous. With Mac telling her to keep an eye out and Clint saying not to worry, she leaned toward the more cautious advice. That creepy howl still plagued her memory. She’d sure like to know what it was.

THE STEADY CLIP-CLOP of horses’ hooves provided background noise in an otherwise still environment. Mac and Daniel had ridden over two hours, combing the four-hundred-acre ranch and finding nothing. They’d started by heading east away from town, dodging through brush, scrub cedar and live oaks. Molly had padded alongside Mac the entire way, keeping the pace set by the horses.

When the eastern side of the property hadn’t turned up a goat or a rift in the fence, they headed west.

Each time the horses’ hooves touched the ground, dust rose like a puff of smoke. A whirling gust of wind lifted the powdery soil and twisted it around the horse and rider, reminding Mac of another sandy day back in Iraq.

They’d been hunting the men responsible for the attacks on occupying American troops.

Mac inhaled deeply. The dust stung his lungs, but not like it had in Iraq. Too many times he had to inform himself he was in Texas. He was home. Thank God for Daniel. The only family Mac had left.

When he’d joined the Army, he’d found a family in his troops. Only to have them ripped away in an ambush. The same ambush in which he was hit in the leg and the forehead, knocked out cold and left to die. But fate had played a cruel trick. He’d woken up just as another convoy of American troops happened on the ambushed soldiers. As the soul survivor, he was destined to watch the cleanup of the dead young men—his men—who were little more than children themselves.

The medics had doped him up with painkillers and packed him off to a medical staging facility. They’d evacuated him from the country without giving him a choice. He’d wanted to stay and continue the fight.

At the Fort Bragg hospital, the doctors told him his knee was wrecked from the shrapnel. He’d never see battle again.

Several months had passed since he’d come home to the ranch, but Mac’s memories were no less vivid.

Clouds hung low, pregnant with rain, yet holding back as if waiting for a signal from God to let loose. Mac was glad the rain held off. Two hours in the saddle was hard enough without the added aggravation of sliding in mud. He had a nervous feeling that had nothing to do with being on horseback for so long.

The feeling had a hell of a lot to do with one red-haired, green-eyed woman on the other side of the ridge in front of him.

His land bordered the edge of town. The last house on Main Street, Eve’s house, was located next to the property line. He couldn’t see it from where he rode, but he knew it was there. Eve and Joey were probably at home.

Mac and Daniel had ridden separately, but within shouting distance, for most of the search. As Mac neared the hill blocking his view of Spirit Canyon, Daniel joined him.

“Anything?” Daniel asked, reining in his horse beside Mac’s.

“No.” Mac scanned the countryside around them, searching the brown and green brush for the white goat.

The horses plodded along steadily, the tattoo of their hooves a soothing rhythm to Mac’s heightened senses.

“It just doesn’t add up.” He stared out across the brush land.

“What?”

“Leider lost a couple lambs less than a week ago. Huckabee’s missing a two-month-old Hereford calf. You’d think they’d at least find the carcasses.”

“Yeah. Kinda hard to lose an entire calf without finding a carcass.” Dan removed his straw hat and combed his fingers through his hair. “At least with a body, you have half a chance of figuring out what ate it. Hard to protect your livestock when you don’t know what’s stalking them.”

“We lose the young all the time. But we’re looking for a full-grown goat. You’d think we’d have found her by now.”

“Don’t look now, but I think we have.” Daniel nodded ahead.

Molly bounded to a spot a few hundred yards in front of them, barking wildly, scattering a half-dozen buzzards clustered on the ground. She sniffed the pile of skin and bones, and then tipped her nose skyward and howled, a long, eerie sound, shattering the stillness of the day.

The clumsy birds flapped their wings, heaving themselves from the ground into the air. Once aloft, they rose gracefully to circle and wait for the humans to move on.

With a sharp tug on his reins, Mac stopped his horse several feet from the picked-over carcass and swung to the ground. The smell of blood and dust assailed his senses, rendering useless his ability to block the memories of other bloody bodies strewn in the sandy streets of Fallujah. Mac’s gut clenched and churned, lifting the bile to his throat.

“What a waste.” Daniel’s words cut through Mac’s thoughts. “She was a good producer.”

With the toe of his boot, Mac nudged at something in the dirt. It was a yellow plastic ear tag with the number twenty-one on it. Mac studied the rocky ground around the goat, but the birds had disturbed any loose dirt. He couldn’t discern animal prints in the dust.

“What do you suppose got her?” Daniel asked.

Mac shook his head and widened his search in a growing circle. Nothing. Not a footprint, pawprint, disturbed grass or droppings from anything other than the greedy birds and Molly.

“I heard Mr. Largey say they’d seen a cougar around these parts last year,” Daniel said as he scanned the surrounding hills. “I hadn’t heard any more about it this year. I know they can have a pretty wide range.”

“You think a cougar did this?” Mac asked.

“Who knows? Could be anything. Been a rumor about some kind of cult in the county sacrificing animals and all. Suppose they got hold of her?”

“No.” Mac shook his head. “An animal did this.” Maybe a cougar. His gut clenched. Or maybe a dog. A big dog.

With her nose to the ground, Molly trotted away from the carcass.

Mac followed the dog until they reached the crest of the hill overlooking the little town. Molly paused and stared down the steep incline. Then she looked back at him and whined.

Spirit Canyon sprawled quietly in the meager, late-afternoon light, a few cars ambling along Main Street toward the Community Center. Addie had mentioned something about today being the annual Harvest Festival planning committee meeting. Should be a lot of people crowded into the Community Center. Mac could see Eve’s house, the old tire swing hanging from a tree in the backyard.

“Damn.” Mac frowned.

“Did you find anything?” Daniel joined Mac and followed his gaze. “Damn.”

“No kidding.”

Daniel shook his head. “Awful close to town.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t suppose whatever animal did this would attack during the daylight?”

“Most predatory animals are nocturnal,” Mac said. But he knew animals with rabies would attack day or night.

A movement caught his eye. Eve and Joey left the house and were walking down the street toward the Community Center.

“Whatever it was took out a pretty big goat. Almost as big as a man,” Daniel said.

Definitely larger than a child Joey’s size.

Mac looped the reins over the saddle horn and swung up into the seat. “Better warn the neighbors.”