Peril on the Ranch

by Lynette Eason

  She stopped crying, and for a brief moment, Mac felt a surge of satisfaction. Then her face crumpled and wails pierced the air once more. “Oh, boy.”

  He began to pace from one end of the den to the other, talking softly, humming an old Bible school tune he remembered from his childhood, and avoided stepping in front of the windows. All the blinds were pulled, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Five minutes turned into ten that turned into twenty. He finally realized the back of the house was quiet and the baby in his arms had given up her battle with sleep.

  He let out a low breath and fatigue hit him hard. He walked over to the recliner and lowered into it, holding Lilly in the crook of his elbow. Her breathing came deep and even, while her muscles twitched every so often.

  With a light touch, he traced her a finger over her eyelids, then her nose and puckered lips. Grief gathered in his chest and he closed his eyes. Lord, I don’t know how I’m supposed to heal from this—but I want to.

  It was the first time he’d admitted that to himself. He wanted to live again, to love again, to face the future without dread. To apologize to his sister and make things right with her.

  A footstep in the hallway peeled his eyes open. Isabelle stepped into the den and paused when she saw him. Her eyes widened and a tender smile curved her lips. “Oh, my,” she said, her voice a whisper. “You did very, very well.” He didn’t dare laugh. She walked over and took the sleeping baby from his arms. When she did, stray strands of her hair tickled his cheek and he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. A hint of vanilla and something he couldn’t identify but definitely liked. Their eyes locked and he swallowed. Isabelle waited a moment, looked like she might say something, then simply smiled once more and straightened.

  Lilly stirred at the movement but continued the sleep of the innocent—deep and untroubled. Isabelle disappeared to put the baby in her crib and Mac pulled in a deep breath, ordering his pounding pulse to return to normal.

  Why did the woman affect him so?

  Before he had a chance to try to come up with an answer, she returned, gave a long sigh and dropped onto the couch. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I’m tired.”

  “It’s just eight o’clock, but you might want to go on to bed while you can.” He stood.

  “No,” she said without opening her eyes. “I have a few more things I need to do before I can sleep.”

  He paused. “All right. Anything I can do to help?”

  “Hmm. No, I don’t think so. Unfortunately.”

  “Okay...then I’ll leave you to it.”

  “I’d rather talk to you.”

  Her blunt statement left him blinking. “Works for me. What do you want to talk about?”

  She patted the sofa cushion next to her and he lowered himself onto it. She rolled her head to look at him. “Tell me about your family. Yourself.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think you need to.”

  He huffed a short laugh but bit back the groan. She was probably right. “You’re a psychiatrist. Are you going to analyze everything I say?”

  “Of course.” He paused and she laughed. “No, I’m teasing. I like you, Mac, and I’m curious about you. I can tell you’re something of a loner at the moment, at this point in time, but you’re a people person—which is probably why you seek out jobs that put you around them.”

  Okay... “And? What else have you deduced about me?” He wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or honored that she’d taken such notice of him.

  She studied him and gave a small shrug. “You carry a lot of pain. Your shoulders are strong, but there’s a heavy load on them. You mentioned losing your wife and child, so that’s probably where that comes from.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “You like children, but you hold yourself back.”

  He nodded and looked away. No wonder she was so successful in helping kids. She had a way of looking beneath the surface whether you wanted her to or not. She cleared her throat. “But that’s not my business. I’m praying for you, Mac.”

  That snapped his gaze up to hers. He couldn’t find it in him to protest. He needed her prayers. “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “Good night, Mac.”

  She started to go, and he snagged her hand. “Wait.”

  Isabelle stopped and looked at him with a big question mark in her eyes.

  Mac fought to find his voice, to explain his feelings, his thoughts. Isabelle settled back onto the couch but left her hand in his.

  “You’re right about everything,” he said. “I’ve been running for a long time.”

  “From your pain?”

  He sighed and scraped a hand down his face. “From the truth.”

  “What truth is that?”

  Did he dare say it? He paused. Then, “It’s my fault they died.”

  THIRTEEN

  Isabelle froze for a slight second. She’d heard the words, but since they were the last thing she expected him to say, it caught her off guard. He looked away again, and even in the dim light of the room she could make out the flush in his cheeks, the agony in his eyes. “Tell me.”

  “She shouldn’t have been driving that night. We had plans to meet friends for dinner, but we’d had an argument that morning and she’d ignored my calls throughout the day. I thought she was being petty and so when I had a call come in about ten minutes before I was supposed to clock out, I took it. Shortly after that, she called and I let it go to voice mail.” Mac rubbed his eyes. “She was trying to get in touch with me to tell me that she was sorry, and she’d canceled the dinner plans and was bringing me dinner so we could eat and talk.” He swallowed. “She and Little Mac never made it.”

  “Oh, Mac, I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry.”

  “It wasn’t even a drunk driver or someone texting and driving. A dog ran out in the road in front of an oncoming car. The driver swerved into my wife’s lane and hit her head-on. All three of them died. Jeanie and Little Mac never had a chance and I don’t really have anyone to be mad at.”

  “Except God,” she said, “and yourself for not picking up the phone.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What would you have said if you’d answered the call?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  She took his hand. “If you’d picked up the phone and your wife said, ‘Mac, I’m sorry we fought. Can I bring you dinner so we can chat?’ What would you have said?”

  “I would have said...” He let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

  “Mac?”

  He opened his eyes. “I would have said, ‘I’m sorry, too, I’d love for you to bring me dinner.’”

  “Which she knew you’d say.”

  “Which is why she was in the car heading my way,” Mac said, his voice low. Tears filled his eyes, but he didn’t seem to care. “She was going to be in that car either way, wasn’t she?”

  “Sounds like it, yes.”

  “Except if we hadn’t fought, I’d have been on my way home.”

  “Would you really? Or would you have taken the call and let her know you were going to be late?”

  He paused. “I... I’m not sure.”

  “I think you are.”

  For a moment, he stared at his hands, thinking. “Maybe. I’d done it before, of course. When someone needs help, you don’t ignore it, no matter how close to going home you are.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “Because that’s the kind of man you are.”

  He eyed her. “You’re too easy to talk to.”

  A laugh slipped from her. Short and low. “Do I say thanks or apologize?”

  When a small smile curved his lips, joy lit up inside her. He might blame himself, but he was working toward seeing that it wasn’t true.

  “Before I started my shift, I called her a
nd left a voice mail that I regretted the fight. I even sent her a few texts. She never answered and it made me mad.”

  “And hurt.”

  “Yes.” He drew in a deep breath. “But turns out she’d lost her phone and had only found it shortly before she called me. I felt like dirt, but we both knew things would be all right, eventually. Only—” he shook his head “—we never got to eventually.”

  “Can you see it wasn’t your fault, though? It was an accident. A stupid, tragic accident.”

  He nodded. “Mentally, I know, I just...” He raked a hand over his head. “Tell me about your husband.”

  She blinked at the sudden change of subject. Isabelle had tons to do for the Day at the Ranch event, but she decided this was more important for the moment. “I’ve told you most everything. There’s not much more to tell. Josiah was a wonderful man and we were mostly happy even though we had our ups and downs like all couples. The one thing that would have been the icing on the cake, so to speak, would have been to have children. When it didn’t happen, we fostered. And then he died, and I’m keeping the dream going.”

  “How are you doing that? It seems terribly overwhelming.”

  She let out a low laugh. “Oh, it’s overwhelming all right.” She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her eyes and thought about what to say. When she looked up, he was simply sitting patiently, watching her. “You’re pretty easy to talk to yourself, you know?”

  “That’s a good thing, then.”

  Was it? Isabelle wasn’t stupid. She knew what was going on with her emotions. She was falling for this man. The problem was, he wasn’t planning on sticking around and she was heading straight for heartbreak. To let herself believe anything else was foolish. She gave a slight shrug. “I have an offer from someone to buy the land.”

  “You’re thinking of selling?”

  “Well...not every day. But yes, occasionally, I think about it. I could go back into practice treating patients and still be a foster mother without this property to worry about.”

  He frowned. “But you love this place.”

  “I really do.”

  “But?”

  “But it’s a lot of work, a lot of stress, a lot of...everything. However, I feel like if I sell or even give the property back to my parents, I’d be giving up.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know what to do some days.”

  “Is keeping the place going a way of keeping Josiah with you? The feeling that you’d be letting him down if you gave it up?”

  “Studied some psychology yourself, have you?”

  “It came in handy with the police job.”

  “I’m sure.” She sighed. “Trust me, I’ve thought about that, but no. Josiah wouldn’t want me to feel that way. He’d want me to do whatever was best for me at this point in time. He’d never push his dream on me.”

  He looked like she’d slapped him.

  “Mac?” She held his hand while he processed whatever was going through his head. “What is it?”

  He blinked and shook his head. “Nothing. I just...was thinking.”

  “About?”

  “The fact that Jeanie would want the same for me.” He shook his head. He stood. “I’d better let you get some work done or rest.”

  She nodded and rose to stand next to him. “You’re healing here, Mac. I hope you’ll stay for a while if only for that.”

  He drew in a deep breath and brought a hand up to cup her cheek. “You’re a very special person, Isabelle Trent. I’m honored to have met you.” She kept her gaze on his. His eyes dropped to her lips and she stilled. Waiting. Then he cleared his throat and took a step back.

  Isabelle did the same. “Can I ask you a question before you go?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever settle down again? Let your heart be open to love again?”

  Mac hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t know. If you’d asked me that question a month ago, the answer would have been a flat no, but I think I’m getting tired.”

  “Tired of running from the pain?”

  He smiled. A sad, lopsided curving of his lips. “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. What about you?”

  “Love again? Yes. I’m not looking for it to happen, but if it’s meant to be and God sends that person my way, then I’ll love again with my whole heart.”

  Pain flashed. “I admire that.”

  “What would your wife tell you?”

  He let out a low laugh. “That I’m being an idiot and to do whatever makes me happy—including living my life and finding love again.”

  “You didn’t even hesitate when you said that.”

  “No,” he said, his voice soft, thoughtful. “I guess I didn’t.”

  “She and Josiah sound like they would have gotten along very well.” She paused. “I don’t know if you want my advice, but here it is. You can’t outrun the pain. I know this from experience. It won’t seem like it at first, but it’s much better to face it head-on and deal with it. Only then will you be able to see past it.”

  He dropped his gaze and shoved his hands in his pockets. Isabelle bit her lip, thinking she’d said too much. Then he sighed. “Good night, Isabelle, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He turned to walk away, and Isabelle reached out to stop him, then dropped her hand. She’d been the one to open up the conversation, but he’d closed it. She’d respect that.

  She took another look out the window and sent up one more prayer that tonight would be a quiet one. However, as tired as she was, sleep would elude her, so she might as well work. She went to the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee, then she went to the door and stuck her head out. “Grant, you okay? You can come in, you know. I’m making coffee.”

  “Thanks, but I want to be seen if this guy decides to come visiting. I could use some coffee, though.”

  Just as she was about to offer to get it for him, Mac joined them on the porch. “Thought you were going to bed,” she said.

  “If I could sleep, I would. Since I’m awake, I figured I might as well be useful.” He nodded to Grant. “You need to take a break?”

  Grant stood. “Sure. Just for a few minutes. Thanks.” He smiled at Isabelle. “I’ll get the coffee. You go on to bed and get some rest.”

  Rest? She looked out over the property that had always been a source of peace and comfort for her. Tonight, a shiver rippled through her and a sense of danger wiped out any thoughts of rest.

  * * *

  Mac woke to the smell of bacon, eggs and cinnamon. But most important, coffee. His stomach immediately rumbled and he rolled out of bed to shower and dress. Ten minutes later, cup in hand, he walked out onto the porch to find Grant leaning against the nearest post, sipping out of a travel mug, and Isabelle sitting in one of the rockers with baby Lilly in her arms. The child waved a chew toy and babbled at Mac when he sat in the chair next to them. He propped his boots on the rail and tapped Lilly on the nose. “Morning,” he said. “Glad to see she’s in a better mood.”

  Isabelle shot him a quick smile. “Good morning. Sleep can do wonders for one’s disposition. Not to mention a lovely day.” She glanced at the sky. “It’s going to be a pretty one. Not a raindrop in sight.”

  She sounded chipper enough, but the dark shadows under her eyes told the real story. “Didn’t sleep much, huh?”

  “I look that bad?”

  He blinked. “What? No, not at all.”

  “Liar.” Her gentle rebuke pulled a chuckle from him. Why was it he found himself smiling every time he was around her? In spite of the chaos they were involved in? He wasn’t sure of the answer, but he decided it might be interesting to find out. The thought sent shards of...something through him. Fear? Terror? Hope? Longing?

  “Mac?” Isabelle asked.

  He shook himself. “Yeah?”

 
“You okay?”

  “Of course.” He looked at Grant. “Hope you got some rest last night.”

  Grant covered a smile and shot him a knowing look. “Thanks to you and your three-hour shift.”

  “Happy to do it.” Mac worked on emptying the coffee cup, ignoring the heat climbing into his cheeks. He’d have to learn how to hide his feelings a little better. And he’d thought he was pretty good at it.

  “I called Social Services this morning,” Isabelle said.

  All embarrassment fled and Mac lowered his feet with a thump to lean toward her. “You did what?”

  Grant made a low noise of surprise but didn’t comment.

  Isabelle looked away, then back at them. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” she said, “but, after that bull incident—” She broke off and swallowed. “Katie could have been killed. Last night, I was thinking about it and praying about it and I feel like it’s the only option.” Tears filled her pretty eyes and she blinked them away. “It’s the only smart—and loving—thing to do. I also told the kids everything about Lilly and why someone’s been causing trouble. I also explained that they would be coming back just as soon as it was safe for them to be here. The bus is on the way to pick them up for school. After school, Cheryl will take them to a safe house.”

  “What about Lilly?” Mac asked.

  “She’ll be staying here with me,” Isabelle said. “Her father—” She stopped and grimaced. “I don’t want to call him that. He doesn’t deserve that title. Drew is only after her, but it’s obvious he doesn’t mind hurting people who might stand in his way to get her. As long as the other children aren’t with her, I feel like they’ll be safe.”

  “And we’ll guard Lilly here,” Grant said with a nod. “It’s a good plan.”

  “Yeah,” Mac said, his voice low. “That makes sense. I hate that it’s necessary, but I think you’re wise to do that.”

  “It’s definitely not what I want,” Isabelle said, “but they come first. Their safety is the priority.”

  “What did the kids say?”

  She shot him a thoughtful smile. “You know, I thought about trying to convince them that they were going on a little vacation for a few days, but they’re way smarter than that.” She shook her head. “And they’ve been lied to so much of their short lives that I couldn’t do it. I thought honesty was the best policy in this case—even with Katie. They’re worried, of course, but not about me not wanting them here. They understand that I don’t want to send them away, that I’m doing it out of love, and they’ll be back soon. They have complete confidence in Grant and Ben.” She looked at Mac. “And you.”