The Texas Rancher's Family

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “How’s she doing?” he rasped, remembering how his daughter had sobbed when she discovered he’d been hurt.

  Erin’s smile widened even more. “Great. She woke up around eight, came down and had a big breakfast with the boys, then went outside to play.”

  Mac studied Erin’s soft maternal glow. “No more tears?”

  Erin shook her head in wonder. “Surprising, isn’t it?” She reached over and briefly squeezed his forearm, before settling back and clasping her hands around one knee. “But kids are remarkably resilient, especially when they feel safe.”

  Mac could see how that would’ve happened, despite the trauma they’d been through the night before. Hell, even he felt safe with Erin beside him. “Everything else okay?” he asked, not really wanting to move from the cozy bed just yet. Not when she was sitting here beside him, looking like an angel of mercy.

  He searched her face, seeing none of the anxiety she’d exhibited the night before when she’d gotten her first look at him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Just fine.” She gave his forearm another friendly pat and stood. “You want me to tell Deputy Vasquez you’ll be right down?”

  Mac nodded. He needed to splash some water on his face, brush his teeth, wake up a little more.

  A few minutes later, he met them in the living room.

  As Rio Vasquez took his statement, the color drained from Erin’s face. Too late, Mac realized this was the first time she had heard the un-sugarcoated version.

  “What’s going to happen to the men who did this?” she asked, wringing her hands anxiously.

  Rio packed up his laptop computer. “There are outstanding warrants for all four of them in Oklahoma for a similar situation. So as soon as they’re arraigned this afternoon, they’ll be transferred to a jail there, where they’ll be held without bail until the trial, which, frankly, could be months from now.”

  Erin breathed a sigh of relief.

  Mac thanked Rio and walked him to the door.

  The twins, hearing Mac was up, left their studying long enough to come downstairs to view the damage. “Wow, Gavin wasn’t kidding when he said you got the stuffing beat out of you,” Bridget teased, examining the damage like the nursing student she was.

  “Nice job on the stitches, though. I doubt you’ll have much of a scar,” Bess said, examining his temple and the underside of his chin.

  “Just enough to add a dangerously male aura.” Bridget winked.

  Erin glared at the three of them. “It’s not funny.”

  Mac smiled, feeling slightly better, now that he’d been up awhile. “It is a little.”

  Erin made a face at him, unconvinced.

  To Mac’s surprise, the pilgrimage continued throughout the early afternoon.

  The kids briefly stopped playing long enough to come in and have lunch with Mac. They presented him with Spider-Man Band-Aids. “Your stitches will look way cooler that way.”

  “Thanks, guys.” With Erin’s assistance, Mac gamely put them on over the ones the hospital nurses had already placed.

  The children grinned, happy to have helped, then asked a lot of questions about the assault. Mac assured them it wasn’t really a big deal—the men had just had too much to drink and weren’t thinking straight; they had surely learned their lesson now.

  Travis Anderson stopped by next, to see what he could do.

  He was followed by the director of the Montessori school where Heather had just enrolled.

  The Laramie Inn manager brought a fruit basket, and some pastries from the local German bakery.

  The rental car agency assured Mac that the insurance company would cover the damages to the SUV, and then they dropped off a brand-new one for him to drive.

  Next, a few county commissioners arrived. “We want you to know we’ve put the Prairie Natural Gas company on notice,” one of them told Mac. “This kind of behavior won’t be tolerated.”

  “Did they admit to sending the men after Mac?” Erin asked.

  The commissioner shook his head. “But if we find any link whatsoever to the mugging, they’ll be fired as suppliers and out of the running for the power-plant expansion.”

  Erin nodded. “That seems right.”

  “It doesn’t mean you and your company have won the bid by any means,” the other commissioner told Mac, “but given what happened, and the courageous way you handled yourself, the people of Laramie are a lot more willing to listen to you.”

  “Whoever would’ve thought,” Mac murmured to Erin, after everyone had left, “that getting mugged would give me an automatic in here in Laramie County?”

  Erin walked into the kitchen, with Mac on her heels. She slipped on a pair of oven mitts and took two large baking dishes filled with roasting chicken from the oven. While he watched, she brushed barbecue sauce onto the sizzling golden pieces. A delicious aroma filled the room.

  “It’s not the getting beat up part, it’s the courage you showed.” Finished, she slid the pans back into the oven, then turned to him. “You were clearly outnumbered, and outarmed, yet you stood up to those four thugs until the sheriff arrived.”

  Mac shrugged. “Not such a big deal, given the collective sum of their intelligence.”

  She grinned at his joke, then walked closer to inspect his scraped knuckles and the bruises on his hands and face. She tenderly brushed a hand across his cheek. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

  In the past, Mac had found there was no point in trying to pretend his background was anything but blue-collar. He wouldn’t do it now. He caught her hand and pressed it against the center of his chest. “I grew up in south Philly. It wasn’t the kindest, gentlest neighborhood.”

  Briefly, she leaned into his touch. “Couldn’t your parents protect you?”

  Mac exhaled. Usually, he didn’t like talking about himself, especially with someone who—prior to his beating, anyway—had been on the opposite side of a business equation.

  “When my mom knew about it, sure.” Although Mac tried to keep his guard up, Erin’s coaxing smile somehow drew the next confession out of him. “Usually, I didn’t tell her.”

  “What about your father?” she asked softly.

  Their eyes met, and it was as if she suddenly realized they were standing way too close, because she extricated her fingers from his and moved away.

  “My dad died in a factory accident when I was eight.”

  Her expression changed. “I’m sorry,” she said compassionately, looking at him as if she wanted him to go on.

  Surprising himself, Mac did. “The situation made me tougher than I probably would have been. My mom was a hotel maid. I saw how hard she had to work with so little education. It made me determined to achieve more.” He had wanted to give her a better life, and for a while, he had.

  Erin smiled again. “She must be very proud of you.”

  “She was, until she died. Eight years ago from emphysema.”

  Erin reached out and squeezed his hand briefly. “I’m sorry. I know what it is to lose your parents.”

  Mac felt a punch to the gut at the memory. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. Their eyes locked and he felt the connection between them deepen. Which really sucked, because eventually they’d have to get back to business, and instinct told him Erin wasn’t going to want the wind farm situated on the Triple Canyon Ranch tomorrow, any more than she had last night. And without all five Monroe heirs on board, a deal wasn’t happening.

  Which meant, Mac thought ruefully, he had his work cut out for him. He stepped back and adapted the easiest tone he could manage. “So...do you think the visitors are going to keep coming, or are we done for now?”

  Erin’s eyes lit with humor. “Probably done. Which is a good thing, because dinner’s ready, and it’s time to call the kids.”

  She had just reached the front of the house when the sound of a car engine rumbled closer.

  Erin went to the window, looked out. Fingertips pressed to her fo
rehead, she let out a low moan.

  “Who is it?” Mac asked.

  She sighed. Loudly. “My ex-husband.”

  * * *

  TALK ABOUT LOUSY TIMING, Erin thought, as G.W. climbed out of his pickup truck emblazoned with the words Horizon Oil Company.

  Sammy and Stevie whooped with joy at the sight of their father, and ran toward him, arms outstretched. “Dad! What are you doing here! How long can you stay? Did you miss us? We missed you!”

  And on it went.

  Watching, Erin struggled against her own resentment—and relief, that he had finally shown up again. Albeit unannounced. Her boys needed their dad, now more than ever.

  If only G.W. would accept that, and do more.

  But knowing him, occasional stop-bys were the best she could reasonably expect.

  G.W. showed up when he felt like it.

  And was absent when he didn’t.

  Fortunately, her boys had come to know that about their dad, and they loved him anyway.

  Erin waited for the boys to finish greeting their dad and introducing their new friend, Heather.

  “Her daddy is Mr. Wheeler,” Sammy explained, pointing to Mac, who’d come to stand next to Erin on the porch.

  He extended his hand. “Call me Mac.”

  G.W. looked him up and down before focusing on his face. “That’s some shiner you’ve got there. Nice Band-Aids, too.”

  Mac grinned. “Sammy and Stevie gave them to me.”

  G.W. patted them both on the back. “That’s my boys for you. Hearts of gold!”

  Erin smiled. “Would you like to stay for dinner, G.W.? It’s ready.”

  “Thanks.” Her ex-husband removed his hat and ran his fingers through his sandy hair. “Yeah. I would.”

  She looked at the children. “Wash up, okay?”

  Sammy, Stevie and Heather raced to comply. G.W. inhaled the aroma coming from the doorway and swaggered up the steps to stand between Erin and Mac on the porch. “Oven-barbecued chicken?” He stood with his back to Mac.

  With a droll look on his face, Mac stepped politely aside to give her ex room.

  Erin had to work not to roll her eyes in exasperation. The last thing she needed to do was egg G.W. on. “You guessed it.”

  “Looks like I timed it just right tonight.” He looked over his shoulder at Mac. “Always was one of my favorites.”

  Was it her imagination, Erin wondered, or was G.W. acting a little territorial? Of course, maybe that wasn’t so surprising. This had once been his home.

  Bess and Bridget came downstairs about the same time that Nicholas came in the front door. They all greeted their former brother-in-law coolly and politely.

  Erin knew with G.W. on the premises they’d prefer to back out of dinner. For her sake, they stayed.

  Fortunately, the meal was dominated by conversation with the kids. Only after they’d finished and asked to be excused, to play outdoors some more before dark, did the talk turn to more complicated adult matters.

  “So tell me about this wind farm your company is proposing,” G.W. said from his old place at the head of the long table.

  Mac explained the basics while dishes were cleared, coffee cups brought out.

  Nicholas added eagerly, “It’s clean, renewable energy that produces no greenhouse gases or other pollutants.”

  “Horizon Oil has recently developed some new, more environmentally friendly technology, too,” G.W. said. He got up to help himself to a second plate of peach cobbler. “In fact, our geologists think there might be oil beneath some of the ridges that line the three canyons here on the ranch. We’re interested in a lease for the mineral rights.”

  Erin, whose own appetite had faded the moment her ex had shown up, looked at G.W. He knew damn well how she felt about this. “You’re kidding.”

  He was not.

  G.W. shrugged. “It’s not like you’re using the land for anything else. If we strike oil, you’d be rich. If not, you could still sell to the wind-farm company later.”

  Bridget looked at Mac, who’d been watching G.W. make his pitch. “Is that true?” she asked.

  Mac drained the last of his coffee. “No. The county commissioners are going to decide on the method for solving the energy shortage in the next few weeks. They’ll either expand the current natural gas plant to provide more kilowatt hours to residents, or switch to an alternate method—like wind power—to boost the current system.”

  G.W. shook his head. “I can’t see them cluttering up the landscape with hundreds of huge wind turbines.”

  “As opposed to putting in drilling rigs and heavy equipment?” Erin couldn’t help but retort.

  G.W. sent her an accusing look. “You always did resent my devotion to my work.”

  That was unfair. Unable to help herself, Erin snapped, “When it kept you from our daughter’s bedside, you’re darn right, I did.”

  A tense silence fell. Everyone but she and G.W. were looking at their plates.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “Well, I can see you’re going to need time to think about this.” He finished the rest of his dessert in a single gulp and stood, glancing out the kitchen window at the kids. They were playing on the backyard swing set and fort, in plain view.

  Then, in a scene that was heartrendingly familiar, he headed in the opposite direction, toward the front door.

  Erin scraped back her chair. Once again, her ex had left her no choice but to chase after him. “You’re leaving?”

  G.W. grabbed his hat off the coatrack and placed it on his head. “I need to be in Corpus Christi by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “The boys...”

  G.W. brought the brim down over his eyes. “Will understand.”

  Would they? Erin wondered, hurt, despite herself.

  G.W. fished his keys out of his pocket and strode toward his pickup truck. Clenching her teeth, she followed him down the steps. “At least say goodbye to them.”

  He kept right on going. “Why don’t you do that for me? You know how messy it was the last time.”

  Every time.

  He called over his shoulder, “Just tell them I’ll be back in a few days, when I bring you the papers to sign.”

  * * *

  “HE LEFT AGAIN?” Nicholas asked when Erin walked back into the kitchen. “Without telling the kids?”

  It was bad, Erin thought, when even a sixteen-year-old knew the quick getaway was wrong. She swallowed around the ache in her throat. Damn G.W. and his devotion to business.

  Too embarrassed to look at their dinner guest and see what he thought, Erin turned her attention to the task of loading the dishwasher. “He said he’ll be back in a few days with papers for me to sign.”

  Her siblings scoffed in unison. “G.W. really doesn’t know you at all, does he?” Bridget spat out.

  The truth was, he never had.

  And maybe, Erin thought, she had never known her ex, either, because this behavior still surprised her. Every time. She kept hoping he would do the right thing. And kept right on being disappointed.

  The twins stepped in, the way good sisters did. “How about we take the kids into town to see the new animated movie?” Bess said.

  Bridget added, “I know it’s a little late, but it’s not a school night and it would probably be a good distraction.”

  “I’ll go, too,” Nicholas volunteered.

  Which would make three chaperones for three kids. “It’s okay with me,” Mac said.

  Erin sighed. Truth was, she could use a little time to herself.

  Luckily, the boys were as happy to go as they were disappointed to find out that G.W. had taken off, without warning, yet again.

  Promising to be back by ten o’clock, the group left. Mac and Erin went back inside. “Why don’t you let me do the dishes?” Mac suggested.

  “You look like you ought to be in bed.”

  A low chuckle emanated from his broad chest.

  Erin flushed. “You know what I mean. Resting.”

&nb
sp; His eyes lit with a mischief. “Resting is the last thing I feel like doing.”

  Erin caught her breath. Desire, hot and potent, shifted through her. “Mac...” Please don’t make me want you. Please. Don’t make me lose control.

  But he would, and he did. Cupping her shoulders with his big hands, he looked at her expectantly. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kiss you again,” he murmured. “And I won’t.”

  Chapter Seven

  For both their sakes—for the sakes of everyone involved—Erin tried valiantly to come up with a reason not to get any closer to this big, strapping man. But all she could think about as Mac engulfed her in his arms was how much she wanted to kiss him.

  Shoving caution aside, she went up on tiptoe. Mac’s arms wrapped tightly around her middle, lifting her, until their hearts were beating in tandem. Slowly, inevitably, he lowered his lips to hers.

  Erin caught her breath at the connection, and then the whole world seemed to stop. He tasted so good, so uniquely Mac. Everything about him was masculine and hard, completely inflexible and unyielding, and she reveled in the strength of his demand.

  He was consumed with passion.

  And heaven help them both, so was she.

  Erin moaned, shifting her body higher, deepening the kiss. With a low groan, he welcomed the thrust and parry of her tongue sliding across his.

  Emboldened, she nibbled on his lower lip, then the corners, licked her way across the top. And then the tables turned again. Mac lifted her all the way off the floor, pulling her up, spreading her legs with his palms, until her calves wrapped around his back and her thighs straddled his waist.

  He cleared a path with one hand and set her on the kitchen counter. Stepped into the apex of her thighs. Hands threaded in her hair, he cupped her face and kissed her—deeper and deeper, barreling past her defenses, knocking down walls that had been up for way too long. Her heart racing, Erin met him stroke for stroke. The next thing she knew his hands were inching beneath her T-shirt, caressing her skin, moving ever upward.

  Shocked, she sucked in an aroused breath as his palms covered her breasts, their heat and the stroking of his fingertips sending lightning zipping through her.