The Texas Rancher's Family

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “That was before I demonstrated my ability to feint and duck and stay light on my feet. And deliver a mean right hook.”

  Erin glanced at him wryly. “As long as you’re modest.”

  “Very much so.”

  Overhead, the lights of her studio flickered.

  “Oh, no,” she said as the power cut out completely and everything went dark.

  “Talk about perfect timing.” Mac found her in the utter blackness. He pulled her against him.

  Despite her earlier decision to remain immune—at least until she’d made a decision about the land—Erin sank into his body heat. He smelled every bit as good as he felt. “You think someone’s trying to tell me something?”

  He leaned in close and his breath brushed her earlobe. “Up above, or at the county electric plant?”

  A thrill swept through her at his nearness. “Ha, ha.”

  “I think this blackout is random.” He kissed her temple, then her cheek. “But in my favor nevertheless.”

  Erin sighed, her longing to be loved getting the better of her judgment. “How do you figure that?”

  Mac sifted his hands through her hair and kissed her other temple. “Because I’ve missed you. And I’ve been thinking about you. And now have the chance to show you.”

  He pulled her full against him. Common sense warred with her desire. Erin splayed her hands across his chest. “Mac. We can’t. Not here... Not now...” Not when Nicholas and the twins and Gavin were all still awake...

  “I know.” Mac tenderly kissed her lips. “The flashlight brigade will be here any second to rescue us.”

  Erin shook her head. “They all know I have a lantern out here.”

  Chuckling, Mac kissed her even more deeply. “Then do us both a favor and don’t find it just yet.”

  Erin groaned and held on to the only solid thing she could reach—him. Which led to another kiss, and another. Who knew what would have happened next had the lights not suddenly come back on? She blinked in surprise, stumbled backward.

  Mac stared at her, still wanting her.

  She stared at him as the seconds ticked out.

  And just when she thought she couldn’t handle another decision, never mind another surprise, a host of cars sounded in the driveway and a delegation of ranchers arrived.

  Suffice it to say, they weren’t happy.

  * * *

  AT ERIN’S SUGGESTION, Mac ushered the boisterous group into the living room. He heard the cowboys out for the better part of an hour. The chief complaint, Erin noted, was the way the big structures would disfigure the ruggedly gorgeous terrain. “That many turbines will be a blight on the countryside,” cattle rancher Emmett Briscoe fumed.

  Mac leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “That’s why we’re proposing to locate them all in one area,” he explained.

  “You’ll ruin this ranch if you put them here. It’ll be more of an outdoor factory than a picturesque haven.” Amy Carrigan-McCabe, who grew landscape plants on her property, was all about natural beauty.

  “What happens to the turbines when the wind dies down?” horse rancher Kelsey Lockhart-Anderson asked. “There are days when there is zero wind velocity.”

  “And others,” Mac countered pleasantly, “where it’s storm force. Luckily, the wind turbines are built to handle all wind speeds, and excess electricity can be stored for future use.”

  Reba Cartwright asked, “What about the noise?”

  “There will be some,” Mac admitted. “But the turbines are going to be a hundred feet in the air, so much of the sound will dissipate above us.”

  “Look,” Mac continued affably. “When I first came here, I admit I didn’t get it. I was proposing cheap, affordable, clean energy—and plenty of it—and I expected the citizens of Laramie County to jump at the opportunity to be part of the wave of future.”

  But they hadn’t been, Erin knew.

  “Then events beyond my control had me accepting Erin’s hospitality and actually living on a ranch temporarily, and I began to see the individual character of each of these ranches and the powerful sense of family that comes from each ranch, where generation upon generation built these homesteads into what they are. So I appreciate all of you wanting to keep everything exactly as is.” Mac paused. “But I’ve also been around for some of the rolling blackouts, and we all know those are going to get worse, especially in the rural areas, because that’s where the utility company can cut power sporadically and affect the fewest number of residents.”

  Members of the group began to look troubled.

  Mac continued soberly, “There are other ways to remedy that particular problem, of course. You could all invest in generators, but those are expensive, too, and most of the ones built nowadays for personal use don’t power very much for very long.” He shrugged. “I mean, they’ll run your fridge, freezer or air-conditioning unit, but not a lot else, and usually not everything at the same time.”

  “I’ve priced ’em,” Brady Anderson said. “Units are running nearly ten thousand dollars to install, for very little return in the way of actual power produced. And whatever generator you put in has to run on some sort of fuel, so you’re looking at installing a big oil or propane tank on your property, since most of us this far out don’t have natural gas provided to our homes.”

  “That’s true,” Erin murmured. “We have a wood-burning stove for emergencies, but everything else here is run by electricity, via the overhead power lines. Which, when you think about it, aren’t all that attractive, either. They’re just an accepted part of the landscape.”

  Mac nodded, clearly appreciating her support. “The solution to the escalating shortage lies in substantially adding to the power grid for the entire county. So that as you improve your ranches—and take a lot of your agricultural operations into the future—you’ll be able to fuel them. Or maybe, if you aren’t interested in that, you’ll simply be able to save money, with lower power bills.”

  Rebecca Carrigan-McCabe, an alpaca rancher, observed, “But what’s the reality of having something this big and noisy in our backyard? What’s it going to do to our herds?”

  Hers was a valid concern, Erin knew. Alpacas were easily spooked. Would the sound of the turbines carry as far as the Primrose Ranch, a few miles down the highway?

  Mac responded practically. “Experience has shown us that the animals will get used to it as quickly as we humans do. But seeing is believing. Which is why I’d like to put together a bus tour of two other North Wind Energy projects in the Panhandle. It’ll be a day trip. Completely free of charge to anyone who wants to go.” Talk continued a little while longer. Nearly everyone in the room promised to go on the bus tour to get a better idea of what they’d be facing. Finally, all the ranchers left. Only Mac and Erin, and Nicholas, who had sat in on the impromptu meeting, remained.

  “I’ve never seen anyone calm a crowd so fast,” Nicholas murmured. “How did you learn to do that?”

  Mac helped Erin collect the coffee mugs. “Years of training and experience. When you’re trying to sell to someone, the first thing you have to do is understand whatever negative emotions they are having. That tells you what the obstacles are.”

  Nicholas looked thoughtful. “Like if a person is trying to buy a car, but is worried it will cost too much.”

  Mac nodded. “But let’s say they really want a new vehicle, and not just any car, but a Ford Mustang convertible circa 1964. You know it’s out of their price range. They know it’s out of their price range.”

  “But they still really want it.”

  “You’ll get a sale if you can find something they can afford that has all the attributes of the vehicle they want.”

  “So in this case,” Nicholas mused, “with the wind farm...”

  “People are afraid of what they don’t know, and worry that it’s going to infringe on their lives in ways they don’t like,” Mac said.

  “So what do you do?” Nicholas asked.

  He
spread his hands. “Find a place where it will do the least damage.”

  “Like our ranch,” the youth concluded.

  Mac cast a sideways look at Erin and cleared his throat. “I’ve looked into other locations, but so far none of the owners are interested....”

  Nicholas’s brow furrowed. “So right now, the Triple Canyon Ranch is the only viable option?”

  “It’s the starting place,” Mac affirmed with another consoling look at Erin. “However, it may not be the ending place.”

  But it was where everyone, including the neighboring ranchers, expected the wind farm to be placed.

  Awhirl with emotion, Erin ducked into the mudroom, and from there slipped out into the backyard. Mac and Nicholas were still talking intently inside, but out here, the night was beautiful. A quarter moon shone and a symphony of stars dotted the wide velvet sky.

  Erin walked across the yard, past the barn, to the fence.

  The horses were scattered across the pasture, grazing sedately. What would happen to them if she sold? Erin wondered, inhaling the fresh scents of green grass and flowers. Would she be able to find a place so perfect? Would she and the boys have somewhere to ride?

  She drew a shaky breath. And what about the family? If she moved—because frankly, she couldn’t see herself living in a house surrounded by 342 hundred-foot-high turbines—would her siblings immediately get places of their own?

  Deep down, she feared it wouldn’t be just the legacy of their ancestors that they would be losing, but they could also be jeopardizing the close, intimate bond between the current generation of Monroes.

  “I thought I might find you out here.”

  Erin turned to see Mac approaching. He looked even sexier in the moonlight. “Did Nicholas go on to bed?” she asked.

  Mac joined her at the pasture fence. “To his room. He said he has a little homework to finish before he turns in.” Their gazes collided. “Thanks for hosting that impromptu meeting tonight,” Mac said eventually.

  Telling herself she was not going to end up kissing him again, Erin looked away. “Meeting or lynching?”

  Mac’s smile was contagious. “It certainly started out the latter.”

  Her own smile fading, Erin sighed and looked out at the horses again. “Until your legendary charm and salesmanship turned it around, anyway.”

  Mac edged close enough for her to feel his body heat. He turned so his back was to the fence, his face to hers. “Are you upset because I’m good at what I do, or because I taught Nicholas some of the tricks of the trade?”

  How about I’m upset because you seem to have succeeded? And I don’t know where any of it leaves me. Knowing that would sound selfish, Erin shook off her melancholy. “Pay no attention. I’m just in a terrible mood.”

  He studied her, taking in her cool attitude. “Because?”

  “Countless reasons. The anniversary of Angelica’s passing. Mother’s Day.” The prospect of you and Heather leaving Texas to go back to Philly... She’d come to count on having them under her roof, seeing them at mealtimes, and so much more....

  Misunderstanding, Mac offered, “If you’d like to back out of the tea—”

  “No.” Erin stopped him, a hand on his arm. “I’m going,” she said firmly. It was the one thing she was sure about. “That event will be fine. Track-and-field day at Laramie Elementary School, on the other hand, may not be so great.” Deciding they’d stood in the moonlight long enough, Erin turned and led the way back to the ranch house. “G.W. promised the boys he would show up.”

  The grass was damp from the dew and spongy beneath their feet. “And you’re worried your ex-husband won’t?”

  Erin slid her hands in her pockets. “If he doesn’t it won’t be the first time.”

  “Hopefully, that won’t be the case,” Mac countered with a long, reassuring look. “But if it is, we’ll deal with it.”

  “Together,” Erin guessed.

  “Yes.”

  Knowing how much her boys adored Mac, Erin liked the sound of that very much. Somehow, it helped knowing that if G.W. bailed on them again, this time she would have Mac by her side to weather the storm. It wasn’t a forever kind of solution, since eventually he would head back to Philadelphia with Heather. But for now, for this moment, it was something.

  Chapter Eleven

  “It’s so kind of you to offer to help today, Mr. Wheeler,” the PTA president said when Mac walked into the Laramie Elementary School gymnasium at nine o’clock the next morning.

  Erin, who was already there—passing out T-shirts and other field-day paraphernalia—waved at him from across the gym.

  Mac smiled and waved back. “Erin told me about the email that went out last night, that if you didn’t get more volunteers you were going to have to cancel some of the events. I didn’t want the kids to be disappointed.”

  And he especially didn’t want Sammy and Stevie, who’d been practicing their running and jumping all week, to feel let down. It was enough that their dad might not show up, after promising he would.

  “Nor do we,” Marybeth exclaimed. “Luckily, we were able to get five more volunteers at the last minute, so we’ll be able to host all the events.” She arched a brow. “Do you feel comfortable counting sit-ups?”

  “Whatever you need,” Mac said affably.

  “Great! We’re going to set up for that on the mats next to the rope climb. So if you want to head over to get your spirit shirt and gear, you’ll be all set....”

  Mac headed for Erin...and the sight of her took his breath away.

  Her golden curls were swept into a ponytail. Her face held the glow of physical activity. She looked incredibly pretty in sneakers, khaki knee-length shorts and the bright green field-day T-shirt that everyone seemed to be wearing.

  Her eyes held his as he neared, trying hard, it appeared, not to look as mesmerized as he felt.

  “What do you think?” Darcy scanned Mac’s shoulders, chest and abs with a critical eye, then turned to her. “Extra large? Or extra extra large?”

  Erin’s eyes roved his torso, reminding Mac of how she’d seemed to drink him in when they’d made love. His body tautened in response.

  Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips. “I’m not sure. These are running a little small.” She shrugged, eyeing Mac’s chest again. “Maybe the larger one?”

  Darcy handed him a folded shirt. “Let’s have a look,” she said.

  Not sure what they expected him to do, he opened it up. Laramie Elementary School Annual Track and Field Day was emblazoned on the front. A large koala bear, the school mascot, decorated the back.

  Darcy looked at Erin. “Help the man! Size him!”

  Flushing slightly and refusing to look him in the eye, Erin stepped forward. She held up the XL size to Mac’s chest. Pursed her lips thoughtfully, then stepped back. Still squinting at him, she reached for the XXL, held that up and let out a satisfied sigh. “Much better.” She looked at Darcy. “Don’t you think?”

  Her best friend grinned, clearly in matchmaking mode. “I think you should be asking him,” she teased, “while I go find out what we’re going to be having for our picnic lunch.” She sashayed off, still grinning.

  “That was subtle,” Mac drawled.

  “Wasn’t it?” Erin bit her lower lip, as if trying to shake away the sexual tension that flared between them. “So, um, what do you think, Mac? You can have whichever size you prefer. The extra large will probably end up being really...form-fitting.”

  Aware that every woman in the gymnasium seemed to be looking at the two of them, Mac decided to give them a show. He furrowed his brow, as if the matter was of huge concern to him. When, in truth, the only thing getting huge was tucked safely away. He lowered the shirt so it hid his fly. “You mean skintight.”

  Oblivious to his problem, Erin nodded with faux concern. “I wouldn’t imagine it would leave much to the imagination,” she said as seriously as if she had been fitting him at her store. “But then—” she cleared her th
roat “—some guys like that.”

  He liked her. More and more every day.

  “The double X will likely be a little loose,” she added.

  Wishing he could kiss her here and now, Mac shrugged. “Loose and easy sounds good.”

  Erin flushed all the more.

  Marybeth Simmons stepped between them. “Hey! Stop the flirting, you two! Get with the program. The third graders are on their way! And Mac, you need your shirt on. The men’s room is that way.”

  Mac grinned. Boy, had they been busted. “Sounds like we have our instructions,” he said. Knowing they could—and would—rock this up later, at a more appropriate time, he reluctantly headed off.

  * * *

  THE SIT-UP EVENT WAS more fun that Mac could have imagined. It took on extra meaning when Erin’s children came into the gym.

  “Hey, Mac!” Sammy broke away from his classmates first chance he got. “Did you see me climb the rope? I got all the way to the top!”

  “I sure did.” Mac gave him a high-five proudly. “You did great!”

  Sammy scanned the gym. “Is my dad here?”

  “I haven’t seen him yet,” he admitted reluctantly.

  The boy’s face fell. “I haven’t, either. But he’s coming. He said he would.”

  Sammy’s teacher waved him back to the group. “I gotta go! See you, Mac!” he said.

  “See you, Sammy!”

  Stevie’s class came in next and headed straight for the chin-up bar. From his place in line, Stevie waved at Mac, who waved back.

  With the help of the student teacher assisting him, Mac continued monitoring the sit-up competition. Soon enough, Stevie’s class was standing in line at his station. “Did you see me on the chin-up bar, Mac?” Erin’s son asked excitedly. “I did all ten that I was s’posed to do!”

  “I did see.” Mac gave him a congratulatory high-five, too. His heart swelled as the little boy exuberantly returned it. “You did great.”

  “My mom saw, too. See her?” Stevie pointed to Erin, who was helping with the push-up competition.

  “I do.” Mac caught Erin’s eye. She smiled back. Mac wondered if this was what it would be like to live in Laramie full-time and be married to Erin.