The Texas Rancher's Family

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  He was right about that, Erin conceded, as she reluctantly pushed her more romantic notions aside.

  He had a business deal to complete, with or without her and Monroe land. He had Heather to care for, and a new nanny to find...back in Philadelphia.

  Erin had to make a decision about the Triple Canyon Ranch’s future, honor the anniversary of her daughter’s passing...and somehow get through the upcoming Mother’s Day holiday. Not to mention keep her relationship with Mac in the “satisfying fling” category.

  Maybe it was best not to think too much.

  She slid back into Mac’s arms. “I agree. The smartest thing to do right now is take it one day, one moment, at a time.” And she knew, as their lips fused together once again, right where she wanted this particular moment to lead.

  * * *

  MAC AND ERIN STAYED on the bluffs for most of the night, making love and talking, eventually tiptoeing back to the house around 4:00 a.m.

  Their time together had been really cathartic. Erin felt as if a huge burden of grief and guilt and misery had been exorcised from her body.

  When morning came, way too soon, the sun was shining. It looked like the beginning of a beautiful May day.

  “You’ll never guess what happened last night, while you and Mac were gone,” Sammy said. “Dad called!”

  Erin was surprised; that happened only once in a blue moon. “Really?”

  “And guess what else!” Stevie reported. “He told us he’s coming to see us on field day at school, this Thursday. He said he wants to see us compete!”

  “Isn’t that great?” Sammy beamed, adding more cereal and milk to his bowl.

  It certainly would be, Erin thought, if G.W. showed up. Determined not to be the Debbie Downer of the situation, she flashed a bright smile. “I’m excited, too.”

  “We’re going to really have to practice our running and jumping after school today,” Sammy told Stevie, who was having seconds, too. “’Cause I want Dad to see me win!”

  “Me, too!”

  The boys were still chattering away when Heather came down to the breakfast table.

  Erin looked at the child’s sullen, bereft expression and became immediately concerned, as did her sons. “Is everything okay?” Erin asked Mac, who arrived right after her.

  “Heather says she doesn’t feel well,” he said. He put a hand to his daughter’s forehead, then frowned. “But I don’t think she’s running fever.”

  Erin knelt in front of her. “Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

  Heather averted her eyes and gave a slight shrug.

  Was it possible the little girl sensed that something had shifted between the two of them? Erin wondered. Even if only temporarily?

  Oblivious to the drama, Bess and Bridget came into the kitchen, backpacks in tow. The twins had offered to drop Sammy and Stevie at school en route to the university.

  “What’s going on?” Bess asked. She was dressed in the scrubs she wore to her nursing laboratory courses.

  “Heather’s feeling a little out of sorts,” Erin explained. “You-all can go on.”

  Sammy and Stevie both stiffened. The escalating worry on their faces made Erin realize they must be recalling a time when another “little sister” hadn’t felt so well. “It’s okay,” she assured them with an “everything’s under control” smile. “Mac and I will handle it. And I’ll see you guys at the store after school.”

  They relaxed only slightly.

  The twins realized what was going on. They commiserated with Heather and then hustled the boys out the door. Gavin and Nicholas had already gone, so Mac and Erin were left with his daughter.

  “Did something happen at school?” Mac asked.

  Heather blinked. They were getting close, Erin thought.

  “Did you have a fight with another student? Get in trouble with the teacher?”

  Again, there was no response.

  Erin looked at Mac. “Was there anything in her backpack? A note, maybe?”

  “Good idea.” He opened up Heather’s bag and pulled out a pink mimeographed sheet. Reading it, he sighed heavily, then handed it to Erin.

  She skimmed it. No wonder the little girl was upset. Sensing Mac was at a loss how to handle it, Erin knelt down near Heather. “Is this about the Mother’s Day tea on Friday?” she asked gently, when they were at eye level.

  Tears welled. Head downcast, Heather rubbed the toe of her new cowgirl boot across the floor. “W-we have to make a special present for our mommies and I don’t have a mommy anymore.” Her small shoulders slumped. “So,” she concluded in a voice thick with tears, “I don’t want to go.”

  Why did schools do things like this? Erin wondered, incensed, knowing it likely wasn’t just Mac’s child being affected here. Couldn’t teachers figure out how to celebrate events in a way that wouldn’t leave less fortunate children feeling more excluded and heartbroken than they already were?

  Mac looked helplessly at Erin. “This is the kind of thing that Joel and Anna would have stepped in to help with.”

  “But Miss Anna isn’t here anymore,” Heather sobbed. “And now I don’t have anybody to go with me!”

  Mac knelt and scooped his daughter into his arms. “Honey, you don’t have to go alone,” he promised, rubbing her back. “I’ll go with you. You can make whatever it is you’re making at school for me instead.”

  “But you’re not a mommy!” Heather said brokenly, thrusting out her lower lip.

  And anything other than a “mommy” or appropriate female substitute in this situation wouldn’t do. Impulsively, Erin looked the little girl in the eye and offered, “I am, though. And if you’d like, I’d be honored to take you to the tea.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” Darcy Purcell asked Erin later that morning. “A Mother’s Day tea?”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” her best friend pressed.

  Actually, no, Erin thought. She wasn’t. She’d done nothing but fret over how she was going to be able to handle all the moms and their precious little daughters since she’d made the impulsive decision.

  Would going to the event break her heart all the more, by reminding her of all she had lost when she’d buried her daughter? Or would it be a bittersweet event, bringing back memories of Angelica in a way that comforted her? Most important, would she be able to stay as present for Heather, and give the still-grieving child what she needed?

  Not about to admit that, after already promising the distraught little girl she’d go, Erin went back to working on Mac’s boots. “I need to do a good deed every now and then.” Carefully, she glued the inside linings to the outer leather pieces. “Otherwise how am I going to get to heaven?”

  Darcy rolled her eyes at the joke and continued wrapping up a pair of boots for another customer. “Are you kidding me? You’re definitely going to heaven! And as for good deeds, you do plenty of those. The most talked about at the moment is the way you’ve taken in Mac and his little girl.”

  Erin stitched two glued pieces of leather together. “After the way he got roughed up, it was the neighborly thing to do.”

  “The way you talk about them, it seems like it’s more than that. Like maybe they’re filling a hole in your life. Since...” Angelica died.

  Guilt flooded Erin, that anything or anyone could ease her grief. The loss of her daughter was a pain that would never go away.

  No matter how much she tried to move on, it was still there every day, like a knife in her heart.

  Darcy hugged her. “I’m sorry, Erin. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know what a tough time of year this is for you.”

  “You’re not upsetting me. I’m already upset.” And yet, with Mac and Heather in her life, the pain was a lot more bearable.

  Was it possible the two of them were heaven sent?

  That, as she and Mac had supposed, they had crossed paths for a reason? Because she could help him and his little girl, and he could
help her deal with the loss of her daughter?

  The bell rang, signaling the first customers of the day. Darcy disappeared. Erin heard voices downstairs, but kept right on working. Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  Darcy was back, with their local postal worker and the PTA president from Laramie Elementary School behind her.

  Zelda Arnett handed over the day’s stack of mail to Erin, then lingered a moment, as she often had since Angelica had died, to chat a little and make sure Erin was doing okay.

  Beside her, the copper-haired PTA president was on a mission. Marybeth Simmons tore off a sheet from the clipboard in her hand. “Hey, Erin,” she said crisply. “I’m here to remind you about the field day. You’re signed up to time the fifty-yard dash for the fifth graders, and we’ll probably draft you to help with other events as needed.”

  Erin scanned the details regarding participation, then smiled and tacked the sheet on the bulletin board above her worktable. “No problem,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll be there.”

  “With your sunscreen on and an ice pack handy,” Zelda teased with a warning lift of a silver eyebrow beneath the wide-brimmed hat she wore with her uniform. “Thursday is going to be a scorcher.”

  They groaned in unison.

  It seemed as if spring had leaped into summer, with few really nice days in between. Where was all that balmy eighty-degree weather they had longed for all winter? Instead, it was in the mid-nineties nearly every day.

  “I see you got your electric bill, too.” Marybeth frowned. “Don’t faint when you read it.”

  Curious, Erin opened the envelope. Sighing, she wondered what it would cost to keep the store comfortably cool when summer came around and temperatures climbed past a hundred every single day.

  “And don’t forget to take a look at the notice the public utility tucked in there,” Marybeth advised, frowning all the more. “There’s going to be a rate hike starting in June, which they hope to do away with once a decision is made on how to expand.”

  “Well, it can’t come soon enough,” Zelda said. “And I have to tell you, Erin, I think it’s wonderful what you and your family are doing, sacrificing your ranch land for this new wind farm.”

  Startled, Erin held up a cautioning hand. “That hasn’t been decided.”

  Marybeth’s eyes widened. “Everyone says it has. That Mac Wheeler couldn’t be more confident.”

  Talk about the caboose getting ahead of the train! “Mr. Wheeler knows we’re still thinking about it,” Erin stated firmly.

  The PTA president dug in her heels. “But the decision about what to do with Monroe land is really yours, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t that the way it’s always been?”

  It was, Erin thought, as the bell rang again and more footsteps sounded on the stairs. Mac Wheeler strode into the workshop as if he owned the place.

  Zelda batted her eyelashes and laid a hand over her heart. “Well, speak of the devil.”

  * * *

  “WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?” Mac asked when the three women had scattered, leaving Erin to speak with him in private.

  “The word around these parts is that the wind farm on Monroe land is already a done deal. You wouldn’t know where that talk is coming from, would you?” Erin said, as she attached two pieces to the top of the boot and sewed them together.

  Mac’s expression was all-innocence as he set down his briefcase. “Not me. I don’t count my chickens before they hatch.”

  “You said something earlier about looking at other land. Is that still a possibility?”

  He nodded. “I’ve found two more ranches perfectly suited to hold some or all of the three hundred forty-two windmills. One is owned by Brady and Kelsey Anderson.”

  Erin stitched around the inlays. “They’ll never sell. They run cattle and horses on their property.”

  Mac folded his arms. “That’s what they told me.”

  “And the other?”

  “Laurel Valley Ranch.”

  “Amy Carrigan-McCabe grows tons of plants for her sister Suzy’s landscaping business there. She’ll never sell, either.”

  Mac’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “That’s what she said. Although it is possible to garden on the land where the windmills are situated. If she was to agree, she’d up her profits substantially. And it’s not like her family resides there,” he pointed out. “They live on her husband’s horse ranch.”

  Erin closed the boot top with stitches, then took it over to the machine to rub the seams and make them nice and smooth. “I just don’t think Amy’d be interested.”

  Mac came closer, watching her work. “That’s pretty much the sentiment countywide for anyone who’s making a living from their land agriculturally.”

  Erin used the hydraulic press to turn the boot top right-side out, then went back to do the other. “Are you trying to pressure me?”

  Mac’s eyes narrowed. “I only told you because you asked,” he said calmly. “Otherwise, I’m still waiting for your decision.”

  Okay, so he hadn’t pressured her.

  Mac extracted a folder from his briefcase. “But now that you’ve inquired, I do have some hard facts and figures for you and your siblings to review. What it would mean for you financially if you lease, versus the payout if you sell the land. One proposal excludes the ranch house and barns.”

  Erin paused to look at the pages he handed her. “But exempts only a hundred fifty acres around the house for us to retain.” She sat down and flipped a few pages. “The other, none at all.” Did he understand nothing of what she’d been telling him? Especially after he’d been to the picnic area on the bluffs with her? How could he still not know what that place meant to her?

  “I know it feels personal. It’s not. This is business, Erin.”

  Anger knotted in her chest. “Maybe to you.” It wasn’t to her.

  “The offer is as generous as I can make it and still leave enough of a profit to be a worthwhile venture for North Wind Energy,” he said matter-of-factly. “Talk to your siblings, and then let me know what you-all think. The county commissioners meeting is seven days from now, and my proposal has to be concrete. The sooner I have your answer, the better.”

  * * *

  AT ERIN’S REQUEST, Mac took Sammy, Stevie and Heather out for an evening of burgers and miniature golf, while she called an impromptu family meeting with her siblings.

  As soon as everyone had gathered in the dining room at the ranch, she handed them copies of Mac’s proposals. They were, as she predicted, as shocked by the final dollar figure as she was.

  Suddenly, it wasn’t just a “this might happen if” theory.

  It was “sign on the dotted line and walk away with a check” reality.

  Everyone stared at the numbers on the printed page. Leasing would cause so much disruption, and net them so little, it didn’t really seem worth it. Getting out entirely, on the other hand...

  “If we sell the land outright, we’d all be millionaires. We’d never have to work again if we didn’t want to,” Nicholas murmured with wide eyes.

  Which was, Erin thought grumpily, exactly why they shouldn’t take it. For the sloths such hefty bank accounts would engender. This wasn’t what generations of Monroes had struggled and scrimped for, to see it all go in a flash.

  And to see her impressionable sixteen-year-old brother given that much—even though as his guardian she could put it in trust for him—was worrisome, too.

  Her other siblings would be more cautious and circumspect. But she could easily see a teenage Nicholas passing up college and going hog wild, just as she would have at that age. Buying fancy cars and clothes and condos, taking trips to Vegas...

  Erin shook her head. “We don’t need that much money.”

  “We don’t need the hassles that come from owning this much land, either,” Bess said, looking at the latest utility and tax bills on the table. “And now that we know there are uses for the land that would benefit the entire community...”

  Which mea
nt, Erin thought, that her sibs were beginning to feel the pressure, too, from everyone eager to supplement the natural gas power plant with clean, free wind energy. But while Erin wanted to help her friends and neighbors, there were larger issues here. “What if one of us wants to ranch later on?”

  Bridget shrugged. “Then we’ll use the money from the sale of the Triple Canyon to buy our own land.”

  But it wouldn’t be the same.

  “Look, you’re the one who’s raising your kids on this ranch, who has the strongest ties to it,” Gavin said. “It’s why we’ve decided that we want you to make the decision for all of us,” he stated heavily. “Because you’re the one with the memories here.”

  It was where she’d raised Angelica, where her daughter had taken her first step...and drawn her very last breath.

  “We can all live with whatever happens next,” Bridget said gently.

  Completely in sync with her twin, Bess added, “One way or another we’ll have our inheritance. It won’t matter whether the equity is in land or cash in the bank. We’ll all have that nest egg Mom and Dad left us.” She hesitated. “We’ll all move on to our own lives and homes, marriages and families, wind farm or no wind farm. The question is...what are you going to do, Erin? Are you and your kids going to go or stay?”

  * * *

  “YOU OKAY?” Mac asked later, from the door of her studio, after the kids were all in bed.

  Erin imagined she looked pretty stressed. She certainly felt that way. “I’m fine. I just have a lot on my shoulders right now.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She could tell he was asking as a friend, not a sales exec. “No.”

  Mac ambled closer. In jeans and a black T-shirt, with his dark hair rumpled and a five-o’clock shadow rimming his face, he looked incredibly sexy.

  He watched her wet down the leather and wrap it around the last. “You know, you don’t have to work so hard on those boots.”

  Erin set them in a warm place, so they’d take the shape of the mold while they dried. Finished, she took off her work apron and hung it on the hook by the door. “I kind of think I do, since you paid triple to get them in time for the meeting with the county commissioners next week.”