McKettrick's Pride

by Linda Lael Miller

  Cora considered that. The implications were obvious.

  “I want to find her family,” Echo said, very softly, and very sadly. “I truly do. But I swear it’s going to kill me to give her up.”

  If ever anybody looked like they needed a hug, it was Echo Wells, in that moment. “You’ll do what’s right,” Cora said, dumping a dustbinful of sawdust and wood chips into the trash. “That’s the kind of person you are.”

  Echo’s eyes glistened. She blinked and looked away.

  “I might be out of line asking this,” Cora ventured carefully, “but do you have any folks?”

  Echo met her gaze, though Cora could tell she didn’t want to. “An aunt and uncle, a few cousins,” she said. “We’re not close.”

  “I see.” Cora told herself she was an old busybody and she ought to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t, though. “No husband or boyfriend?”

  Echo shook her head. Looked away. Looked back. “I almost got married once,” she said. “Justin and I booked a slot in one of those gaudy little chapels in Vegas. I flew in on schedule, put on my dress and took a cab to the McWeddings place. Justin was—detained.”

  Cora set the broom aside. “You mean he stood you up?”

  “He said he had a meeting at the last minute,” Echo said, trying to smile and failing miserably.

  Uh-oh, Cora thought, as she registered the word meeting. She’d been toying with the idea that Rance and Echo might get together ever since the party—the girls liked Echo, and she and Rance surely looked good together—despite their bristly beginning. But Rance was a workaholic, and evidently this Justin yahoo had been, too.

  “So you were all alone in Vegas? He didn’t show up at all?”

  “I told him not to bother,” Echo said. Her voice sounded small and faraway.

  “But when you got back home…?”

  “Justin lives in New York,” Echo replied, when Cora’s sentence fell apart in the middle, like a suspension bridge bearing too much weight. “I lived in Chicago. Neither of us wanted to move at the time, so it wouldn’t have worked out, anyway.”

  “Still,” Cora said, wanting to cry.

  “Justin was all business,” Echo went on, evidently trying to make Cora feel better. The effort, just like the smile she’d attempted earlier, fell flat. “He cared more about his company than anything else. I wanted—”

  “What did you want, Echo?” Cora asked, after a few moments of gentle silence.

  “A dog,” Echo said. “A husband and kids.”

  Cora’s hopes sparked again. “You’re young—twenty-nine? Thirty? You oughtn’t to give up.”

  Echo leaned down, stroked Avalon thoughtfully. “Twenty-nine,” she said. Then she gave Cora another of those pensive looks. “What about you, Cora? You haven’t mentioned a husband. Are you planning to fall in love one day soon?”

  It was an odd question. Made Cora think of the little package snugged away in her handbag. “Julie’s dad died years ago. Best husband a woman could ever ask for, my Mike. Nope, I’m not in the market for a man. After all, I’m sixty-three years old. I’ve saved up some money, and I’d like to take me one of those cruises.”

  “What stops you?” Echo asked. She put the question carefully, as though expecting it to blow up in her face.

  “Rance,” Cora admitted, after weighing the matter in her mind first. “I’m afraid he’d hire another airheaded nanny and fly off someplace. Leave Rianna and Maeve at her mercy.”

  Echo’s gaze drifted to the display window, and suddenly she looked flushed and flustered. “Speak of the devil,” she said.

  Cora turned, watched as Rance got out of his SUV, fresh from the camping trip. His hair was rumpled and he needed a shave. His jeans and white T-shirt looked as though he’d slept in them. He started toward the Curl and Twirl, noticed Cora and Echo watching him through the window, and changed direction.

  “Where are the girls?” Cora asked the minute he stepped over the threshold.

  He sighed, and a muscle bunched in his jaw. Then he grinned, that tilted McKettrick grin. “I knew I was forgetting something when I broke camp this afternoon,” he joked.

  “Very funny,” Cora said, but she had to chuckle a little.

  “They’re at Keegan’s, with Devon,” Rance explained, and even though he was speaking to Cora, he was looking at Echo. Taking in the paint splotches, the long bare legs, the form-fitting T-shirt.

  “I just remembered something I need to do before the Curl and Twirl closes for the day,” Cora announced, and made a beeline for the door.

  Outside, on the sidewalk, she paused and allowed herself the smallest of smiles. If Rance kept his back turned long enough, she might just be able to slip the contents of that little package under the seat of his truck.

  She thought about the Web site, and all the testimonials, and the thirty-day money-back guarantee.

  Time to take a chance on magic.

  *

  “ABOUT THE OTHER NIGHT,” Rance began awkwardly, giving the dog a sidelong glance. At least it hadn’t gone for his throat, so maybe he’d be able to work his way into its good graces after all.

  Echo, looking like a strawberry ice cream cone in her tight pink shirt and little bitty jeans shorts, stayed on the other side of the room. She said nothing, just waited. Maybe she wanted to watch him squirm for a while.

  Rance shoved a hand through his hair, wishing he’d taken the time to shower and change clothes before driving into town. He’d come to let Cora know he and the girls were back from the camping trip, or at least that was what he’d told himself when he’d dropped the girls off at Keegan’s. Now, facing Echo Wells, he knew it for the lie it was.

  “I was a little short-tempered at the party,” he said awkwardly. “I’d like to apologize.”

  Her eyes widened. Whatever she’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. “No need,” she said, still cautious, just when he was beginning to think she wasn’t going to speak to him at all.

  “I caught a mess of fish while we were camping,” he heard himself say. “I thought I’d fry them up for supper tonight.” He paused, cleared his throat, trying to remember the last time he’d felt like a sixteen-year-old asking out the most popular girl in school. “Maybe you’d like to join us?”

  She flushed. Fidgeted a little. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea—”

  “The girls will be there,” he put in quickly when she faltered. He grinned, more out of nervousness than amusement. “You can bring the dog.”

  Echo moistened her lips. “Look, you don’t have to—”

  “Do you ever speak in complete sentences?” Rance asked, relieved when she relaxed and even laughed a little.

  She looked down at her clothes, which Rance would have liked to peel away so he could taste everything underneath in slow, wet nibbles.

  “I’m a mess,” she said.

  Some mess, he thought, shifting uncomfortably when a vision of those legs, draped over his shoulders while he knelt between them, flashed into his mind. “You look fine to me,” he answered, silently crediting himself with the understatement of the century.

  He saw the decision, tentative and hopeful, take shape in her face.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  “I’ll just grab a shower and meet you at your place later.”

  Another vision exploded in Rance’s mind. Echo, naked and slick with water, coming apart in his arms as he slammed into her in a single thrust of his hips.

  He had to swallow again. If he didn’t get out of there quick, he’d have to step behind the counter to hide his rising interest.

  “Six o’clock?” he asked.

  “Six o’clock,” she confirmed.

  He turned, started for the door, then looked back over one shoulder. “You need directions?”

  Her smile melted something inside him. “That would help,” she said.

  He told her how to find the house and made his escape.

  O
utside, feeling distracted and three kinds of grubby, he noticed that the door of his rig was a little ajar.

  Weird, he thought. He’d slammed it shut after getting out.

  With a shrug, he climbed into the SUV and started the engine.

  All the way back to the ranch, he thought about Echo.

  He wasn’t a psychic.

  He didn’t call hotlines, hang crystals or consult tarot cards.

  And he didn’t need any of those things to tell him what the future held.

  He was going to make love to Echo Wells—and soon.

  *

  “IT DOESN’T MEAN A THING,” Echo told Avalon as she shinnied into a pair of jeans, after her shower, and then pulled a white eyelet top on over her bra, a lacey number she wore whenever she wanted cleavage. “He’s just trying to make up for being rude at the party.”

  Avalon tipped her head to one side and panted.

  “We shouldn’t read anything into this,” Echo went on, fluffing her hair. Should she braid it, pin it up or wear it down?

  She decided on the braid. Pinning it up implied too much getting ready, and wearing it down was too sexy. Not to mention that, being damp from the shower, it was bound to frizz out around her head and make her look as though she’d just stuck her finger into a light socket.

  Makeup?

  Echo sighed. Too much getting ready again.

  She settled for lip gloss and a touch of mascara.

  Perfume?

  Not a chance.

  “Come on,” she said to Avalon, hooking a leash to the dog’s collar and grabbing for her purse. “We’ll drive slowly, so we don’t seem too eager.”

  Avalon sighed.

  They descended the stairs, into the shop, and Echo paused a moment to enjoy the new shelves and the smell of sawdust.

  Outside, she locked the shop door and approached the Volkswagen. She’d bought it with a windfall, last year. Now, looking at it, she wondered if she shouldn’t have chosen a more circumspect color.

  She opened the passenger-side door, and Avalon leaped obediently into the seat, waited while Echo unhooked the leash again and fastened the seat belt.

  “Can’t be too careful,” she said. “After all, you’re probably preggo.”

  A minute later, they were zooming out of town.

  They’d traveled several miles before Echo remembered that she didn’t want to seem eager, and slowed to approximately the speed of a lawn mower.

  Avalon panted, watching the scenery drag by.

  Echo turned the radio on, then off again.

  Flipped on the CD player.

  Mozart. That was what she needed. Nice, soothing Mozart.

  So why did everything inside her vibrate to “Boot-Scootin’ Boogie?”

  The ranch house was built of logs and mortar, and stood facing a shimmering creek, dancing in the fading sunlight of a summer evening.

  She pulled the Volkswagen up alongside Rance’s SUV, and smiled when Rianna and Maeve burst out onto a side patio and raced toward her.

  “I’ve got a pink car, too!” Rianna shouted when Echo rolled down her window to greet them.

  Avalon gave a joyous yelp and strained at her seat belt.

  After determining that it was safe to turn the animal loose, Echo got out and went around to the other side of the car to do so.

  Avalon sprang out with a happy woof and ran in ecstatic circles around Rianna and Maeve, who seemed equally delighted.

  Soon, the three of them were off at a high lope, apparently too exuberant to stand still for another moment.

  Echo stood and watched them, one hand shading her eyes, a little smile playing on her mouth.

  Rance was beside her before she had a chance to prepare.

  “Welcome to the Triple M,” he said quietly.

  The low rumble of his voice found a fault line inside Echo and caused a tectonic shift. Off balance, she looked up at him, braced herself against another quake when the sunlight caught in his dark hair. He wore clean jeans and a blue sports shirt that intensified the fierce sapphire of his eyes.

  The trademark grin flashed white, a pleasing contrast to his sun-browned skin, as he reached out and pushed her car door shut.

  Unconsciously, Echo took a step back, and immediately felt foolish.

  “I should have brought something,” she said. “Wine or—or—something.”

  “You brought yourself,” he replied easily. “That’s enough.”

  There was a brief, electric stare-down, and Rance won.

  Echo dodged first, sought out the girls again, and Avalon. They were down by the creek, and as she watched, Maeve threw a stick along the bank and Avalon raced after it.

  Rance took her hand, just briefly, long enough to start her toward the house. Long enough to send a jolt through her system.

  She walked alongside him, coming to a stop on the long flagstone patio, where a bottle of white wine cooled atop a black wrought-iron table.

  Rance pulled back one of the chairs and gestured for her to sit down.

  She sat gratefully, not trusting her knees.

  Below, the creek bubbled and sent up dazzling flashes of sunshine, while the dog and the little girls played. Beyond was another house, even bigger than Rance’s and Sierra’s were. It had a covered porch running the length of the structure and gabled windows on the second floor.

  Climbing roses and lilacs flourished in the yard, along with a venerable peony bush, weighted with fat white blossoms.

  “Keegan’s place,” Rance said, opening the wine and pouring a glass for Echo. “Of course, there have been additions over the years, but it started as a frontier cabin.”

  The wine was white, dry, crisp and so cold that it frosted the glass. “Angus McKettrick built it,” Echo said, and then wished she hadn’t been quite so forthcoming. Now Rance would think she’d been researching his family history.

  He pulled back a chair, sat down and poured himself some wine. “Yes,” he said, with just the faintest trace of amusement in his voice. “All us McKettricks come from that old man and one or another of his three wives.”

  “Sierra’s house belonged to Holt and Lorelei,” Echo piped up, and almost put a hand over her mouth in the next moment.

  “Yes,” Rance answered.

  Echo was interested, in spite of herself. “So which McKettrick son are you descended from?”

  “Rafe and his wife, Emmeline,” Rance answered, watching his daughters with a slight smile as they frolicked with the dog. “They had two daughters—just like I do.”

  Echo pondered. “No sons?”

  “No sons,” Rance confirmed.

  “Then how did you end up with the family name?”

  Rance grinned, brought his attention back to Echo. “The McKettrick women stay McKettricks, no matter who they marry. The tradition started with Katie, old Angus’s only daughter, and it’s never been broken, as far as I know.”

  Echo sighed. “I envy you,” she said. “My family moved around a lot, and nobody seemed to care much about genealogy.”

  Rance took another sip of wine. Sighed. “There have been times,” he confided, obviously teasing, “when I wished I was an orphan. Jesse and Keegan and Meg and I all grew up together, along with a flock of other cousins who spent summers here.”

  “You’re lucky,” Echo told him.

  “I know,” he said.

  “I don’t think I met Meg at Rianna’s party,” Echo reflected, sifting through names and faces.

  “She’s Sierra’s sister,” Rance said, after shaking his head to confirm what Echo had said. “Blows in like a tumbleweed every once in a while. Once Sierra and Travis finish the house they’re building in town, Meg will probably come home. She’s been making noises about it for a long time, but she has strong ties in San Antonio.”

  “It’s a lot to keep track of,” Echo said. “Your family, I mean.”

  “Tell me about it,” Rance replied with a chuckle. “You ready to eat?”

  The delicious sce
nt of fried fish wafted from the built-in grill on the patio. Echo’s stomach rumbled audibly, and they both laughed.

  “Guess so,” she said.

  Rance called the girls, sent them into the house to wash up and laid the table with different colored plates and mismatched silverware.

  “This is the outdoor stuff,” he told Echo.

  She grinned. “I like it. It’s…festive.”

  Avalon approached, sat at a polite distance from the table, in a patch of shade. Echo’s throat tightened when Maeve and Rianna came out of the house, each carrying a bowl. Maeve’s sloshed with water, and Rianna’s contained some kind of chopped meat.

  Apparently, Avalon was to have a feast, too.

  The girls took their places at the table, and Rance poured juice into their wineglasses. He served the fish on a huge, chipped platter, along with a green salad and a basket of rolls.

  “We caught these fish ourselves,” Maeve said importantly. She lisped a little when she spoke, and Echo realized she was wearing braces, the see-through kind. “Dad took us camping on Jesse’s ridge.”

  “It’s Cheyenne’s ridge, too,” Rianna said. “She’s going to marry Jesse. They kiss all the time.”

  Rance chuckled.

  Avalon, having lapped up half the water and tasted the chopped meat, settled contentedly on the warm patio stones for a nap.

  Echo found herself wishing things would stay just this way—the four of them dining outside, like a real family, complete with dog. Such moments were rare in her life, and all too fleeting. The children, the houses and the dogs always belonged to other people, but tonight she could almost pretend that she fit right in.

  “Do you think Avalon would like to ride in my birthday car?” Rianna asked earnestly, breaking Echo’s train of thought.

  “I told you,” Maeve said, “she won’t fit.”

  Rance and Echo exchanged glances, and there was something so intimate about the exchange that Echo’s breath caught.

  She imagined herself staying—clearing the table with Rance after supper, chatting while they washed the dishes, tucking the girls into bed once they’d had their baths…

  Stop, she thought, but it was no use.

  She and Rance would return to the patio, once Rianna and Maeve were settled in for the night, watch the stars pop out, glittering like rhinestones in the clear country sky. Maybe they would dance to soft music, right here in the open air, and then they would go upstairs together, and make slow, sweet love with the windows open to the breeze….