A Texan on Her Doorstep

by Stella Bagwell

  Ever since he’d disappeared through the hospital door, Ileana had been asking herself that same question. A huge part of her was thrilled at the idea of seeing him again, but the practical side cowered at the very thought. Mac McCleod was hardly the sort of man she would ever dream of consorting with. As if a man with his striking looks would ever think of giving her the time of day, she thought wryly. Everything about the man said he liked fast, showy horses and his women just the same. And Ileana was as far from that category as one could get.

  “Tomorrow. Or so he said. I do have his telephone number.”

  Chloe heaved out a breath of relief. “Good. I want you to give him a call and invite him to the ranch tomorrow night. For dinner.”

  “Mom! Have you gone daft? I’m not going to do such a thing! I’ve just now met the man!”

  “Look, Ivy, this is crucial!” Chloe pleaded. “You don’t want anything happening to Frankie, do you?”

  What about your daughter? Ileana wanted to ask. Being around Mac McCleod was difficult on her heart. She wasn’t sure it could withstand the strain of being in his company for a whole evening.

  “Of course I don’t want anything happening to Frankie. She’s my patient and a friend.”

  “All right then.” Chloe gave Ileana’s hand one last pat and then leaned back in her chair. “I need to talk to this man and find out what’s really going on.”

  “If you have a notion that you can change his mind about seeing Frankie, forget it. I doubt the man has ever uttered the word surrender. Unless he was yelling it at a fleeing criminal.”

  Seeming not to hear Ileana’s warning, Chloe continued. “Quint and Alexa don’t know anything about this yet, do they?”

  “No. But I suggested that he talk to them.”

  “Oh, God, what is this going to do them?” Chloe mumbled worriedly. “They believe their mother is a saint.”

  Across from her Ileana picked up her fork and tried to muster up the hunger she’d felt earlier this afternoon. The day had been long and exhausting, and she’d hardly had time to eat three bites of a dry turkey sandwich. But now all she wanted to do was go home and get this telephone call to Mac over with.

  Back in Ruidoso, Mac had just returned to his motel room after a meal in a nearby restaurant. As he stretched out on the bed and reached for the remote control, the ring of his cell phone caught him by surprise. He’d not expected Ripp to call again tonight.Pulling the phone from his jeans pocket, he was surprised to spot a local number illuminated. No one here had this number, except Dr. Sanders!

  “Hello. Mac McCleod here.”

  “Uh…Mac—this is…Dr. Sanders calling.”

  His heart began to hammer with anticipation, or did a part of the adrenaline spurting through his veins have something to do with hearing her voice? After all, it was a sweet, husky sound. The kind that would sound perfect whispering in his ear.

  Damn, Mac, leaving Texas soil has done something to your brain.

  Snapping himself to sudden attention, he said, “Yes, Dr. Sanders. Has something happened?”

  “If you mean Ms. Cantrell’s condition, no. I just spoke with her nurse. She’s resting comfortably. I’m calling for an entirely different reason.”

  There was hesitancy about her words that put Mac on guard. Without thinking, he sat up on the side of the bed and stared expectantly at the floor. “You’ve changed your mind about allowing me to see her?”

  “Uh—no. I’m…well, I’m calling to ask you to dinner tomorrow night,” she said, then rushed on before he could make any sort of response. “I live on a ranch in the Hondo Valley—my parents’ ranch—the Bar M. My mother thought you might like to visit with her. Since she’s known Frankie for nearly thirty years, she might be able to fill in some pieces of information for you.”

  Mac hesitated for several seconds before he finally asked, “And why would she want to do that? I got the impression that you and your family want to shelter Frankie at all costs.”

  He could hear her long sigh, and he was suddenly wondering how she might look with all that dark hair spilling around her pale face, with a sultry little smile on her lips and a sensual glint in her blue eyes. Was it possible he could ever see her like that?

  “I do—we do. But we want to consider your side of this thing, too. Besides, Cesar is an excellent cook. If nothing else, you’ll get a nice meal.”

  “And what about the company? Will you be there, too?”

  There was a long pause, and Mac could very nearly imagine the blush that was creeping across her face. She reminded him of the timid, high school librarian who’d pursued him a few months ago. Once he’d gotten her in the dark, she’d been shy but sweet and eager. If he played his cards right, he might get lucky and discover that behind her lab coat and sturdy shoes, Dr. Ileana Sanders was just as sweet.

  “Yes. I’ll be there,” she said.

  “Great. What time and how do I get there?”

  “Meet me at the hospital tomorrow evening at six,” she told him. “You can follow me out to the ranch from there.”

  “Count on me being there,” he told her.

  “Fine. Good night, Mac.”

  “Good night, Ms. Sanders.”

  She cleared her throat. “Please call me Ileana.”

  A lazy smile spread across his face. “You can count on that, too—Ileana.”

  She blurted another hasty good-night to him, then ended the call. Mac leaned back on the bed and stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. Maybe hanging around here in New Mexico for a few more days wasn’t going to be as cold and lonely as he first feared.

  Chapter Three

  T he next evening, a few minutes before six, Ileana managed to wind up the last of her hospital rounds and hurriedly changed from her work clothes into a royal-blue sweater dress and a pair of tall, black suede boots. The dress had only been worn once, two years ago, when she’d attended a charity dinner with her parents. Ileana rarely bothered to vary her wardrobe from slacks or professional skirts and mundane blouses. No one bothered to look at her sideways. And if they did, it was because she was a doctor and they wanted to hear what she had to say about a patient or ailment.

  But this morning, she’d grabbed the dress from her closet and convinced herself that her mother would be pleased if she dressed for their dinner guest tonight.Shutting the door on her private workspace, Ileana hurried down the hallway toward the nearest hospital exit. She was almost past the nurse’s station, when Renae called out to her.

  “Dr. Sanders, is that you?”

  Stifling a sigh, Ileana paused and looked back at the nurse. “Yes, it’s me, Renae. I’m on my way home. Was there something you needed before I leave?”

  The tall nurse with wheat-blond hair and bright blue eyes stepped out from behind the high counter. “No. Everything is quiet.” Her gaze ran pointedly over Ileana’s dress and boots. “My, oh my, you look—so different! I’ve never seen you dressed this way! And you’re wearing lipstick!”

  A faint blush warmed Ileana’s cheeks, making them match the shell-pink color she’d swiped over her lips. She felt incredibly self-conscious. Which was absurd. She was thirty-eight years old. She could wear what she wanted, whenever she wanted, she tried to reassure herself. “I break out of my rut once in a while, Renae.”

  The other woman smiled. “Well, you should do it more often, Doc.” Renae’s expression turned impish. “You wouldn’t want to tell me what the occasion is, would you?”

  Renae would be the first one to admit that she did her share of contributing to the hospital gossip grapevine. But Ileana certainly didn’t have anything to hide. Her personal life was as flat and uninteresting as a cold pancake.

  “Mother is having a dinner guest, and she doesn’t like for me to show up in wrinkled work clothes.”

  Renae started to reply but paused as the sound of approaching footsteps caught both women’s attention. Ileana looked around to see Mac McCleod striding directly toward them. He was wearing a jean jacket
with a heavy sheepskin collar, and his cowboy hat was pulled low over his forehead; but the moment he neared the two women, he tilted it back and smiled broadly.

  “Good evenin’, ladies.”

  Renae gave him one of her sexy smiles, and Ileana thought how perfect a companion the young nurse would be for the Texas cowboy. She was full of life and nothing—not even a man like Mac McCleod—intimidated her. Whereas Ileana felt like Little Red Riding Hood standing next to the big scary wolf.

  “Good evening, Mr. McCleod,” Renae greeted him. “Fancy seeing you here again.”

  He glanced briefly at the nurse before settling his eyes on Ileana. The direct gaze heated her body more than a huge shot of whiskey ever could.

  “Yes,” he said to the nurse. “Dr. Sanders was kind enough to invite me to dinner.”

  The sound of his voice was low and sultry. Or at least it seemed that way to Ileana. But she could be overreacting. Either way, she was ready to leave the hospital and break the odd tension that had suddenly come over her.

  “Oh, how nice,” Renae responded while casting a shocked glance at Ileana.

  “We’d better be going, Mac. Or we’ll be late.” Ileana quickly grabbed him by the arm and urged him toward the exit. To Renae, she tossed over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

  As the two of them headed down the wide corridor, he asked, “What’s the rush? Afraid I’m going to pester you to see Frankie before we leave the hospital?”

  “No,” Ileana replied. “It wouldn’t make any difference how much you pestered me. The answer would still be no. At least for today.”

  “So she’s still too ill for visitors?”

  Now that they were away from Renae and nearing a revolving door that would take them outside the hospital, Ileana dropped her hand from his arm and purposely put space between their bodies. Even so, she was intensely aware of his spicy scent, the sensual swagger of his posture and the pleasant drawl to his voice.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Are you sure she’s getting everything she needs at this hospital? Maybe if you sent her to Albuquerque or Santa Fe? I mean, I’m not doubting your ability as a doctor, but she might need to be in a more high-tech facility.”

  Ileana paused to pull on the black coat that was draped over her arm, but before she could swing it around her shoulders, he took the garment from her and graciously helped her into it. Ileana couldn’t remember the last time a man, other than a relative, had done such a personal thing for her. It made her feel awkward, yet sweetly cared for at the same time.

  She’d never been really hurt or abused by any man, but her natural shyness and private nature had kept them at bay for years. Now it was a habit she couldn’t seem to break out of. Everyone thought of her as a plain old maid, and she couldn’t seem to change her own opinion of herself. But seeing her in this stranger’s eyes was giving her new hope.

  Looking up at him, she smiled. “I’m sure you mean well, Mac. But there is no high-tech machine that can cure Frankie right now. And even if there were, our hospital here has up-to-date equipment. No, the only thing that can help Frankie is medication and total rest.”

  He let out a long breath, and she could clearly see that he was frustrated, but his demeanor changed as quickly as the snap of two fingers. Once again he was smiling down at her. For a moment Ileana forgot that they were standing to one side of the door and that people were coming and going behind them. She was momentarily mesmerized by the subtle glint in his brown eyes, the faint dimples bracketing his lips, the dent in his chin.

  “Well,” he said softly, “that just means I’ll have to stay here in Ruidoso longer and get to know you a bit better.”

  Dropping her head, she cleared her throat as she tried to gather herself together. “Um…we’d better go. It’s a fairly long drive to the Bar M,” she told him.

  Out in the parking lot, a north wind was whipping across the asphalt, rattling the bare limbs of the aspens and shaking the branches of the blue spruce trees. Ileana huddled, shivering inside her coat, as she gave him general directions to the ranch, then climbed into her truck and waited for him to do the same.

  Soon a dark, fairly new-looking pickup truck pulled directly behind hers. She steered her own vehicle onto the street while carefully watching in the rearview mirror to make sure he was following. After a maze of turns and several traffic lights, they hit the main highway that would take them east to the Hondo Valley.

  The Bar M was nearly thirty miles away and in the daylight, a beautiful drive through the mountains. But night had fallen more than an hour ago. As she drove, Ileana’s gaze switched from the white line on the highway to the headlights following a respectable distance behind her, while her thoughts raced faster than the speedometer on the dash panel.

  What was the man really trying to do? There was no reason for him to flirt with her. In fact, the whole idea seemed ridiculous. But he had flirted, she mentally argued with herself. At least, it had felt that way to her. So why? Was he still thinking he could charm her into letting him see Frankie?

  Yes. That had to be the reason. A man like him didn’t look twice at a woman like her for romantic reasons. And during the evening ahead, she was going to do her best to remember that.

  Since Mac McCleod was a guest who had never visited the ranch before, Ileana purposely parked in front of the house so that they could enter properly through the main entrance.

  When he joined her on the small stone walk leading up to the long porch, he paused to look around at the area lit by a nearby yard lamp.

  “This is quite a beautiful place. I’d like to see the ranch and the drive up here in the daylight sometime.”

  “Yes. Even though it is my home, I never take the scenery for granted,” she replied, then gestured toward the house. “Shall we go in? It’s very cold this evening.”

  “It’s damn—sorry—it’s darn cold to me,” he said as he followed her to the door. “It gets cool where I come from but not anything like this. We’re lucky if we see a frost, much less snow.”

  “Oh, come June and July we’ll get some very warm weather,” she told him. “But with the high altitude the nights remain cool.”

  She opened the door and gestured for him to enter, but he shook his head and smiled.

  “I’d never go before a lady. You lead the way.”

  Even though Mac’s mother had left the family, he’d obviously been raised with manners, Ileana thought. And a whole lot of charm. Something she needed to ignore. But everything inside her was so aware of the man, so pleased to be in his presence. And the reaction made her feel more foolish than she’d ever felt in her life.

  As they moved from the foyer into the long living room, Ileana was relieved to find her mother sitting on the couch. The moment Chloe spotted them, she rose to her feet and quickly joined them.

  “Mac, this is my mother, Chloe Sanders. Mother, this is Mac McCleod,” Ileana promptly introduced.

  “Mr. McCleod, I’m very happy you decided to join us tonight,” Chloe told him as she reached to shake his hand.

  He took her hand, but rather than shake it, he simply held it in a warm, inviting grip. As a smile dimpled his cheeks, Ileana could see her mother succumbing to the man.

  “It’s my pleasure, ma’am. Having you two ladies for company sure beats the lonely meal I had last night.”

  Chloe chuckled softly. “Eating alone isn’t much fun. But my husband sometimes travels so I have to do it at times. Are you married, Mr. McCleod?”

  Mac gave her a lopsided grin. “No. I’m a single man. And call me Mac, ma’am. Ileana already does.”

  Chloe’s brows inched upward as she glanced over at her daughter. Ileana smiled awkwardly as her mother’s gaze swept over her sweater dress and her stacked heel boots.

  “Does Cesar have dinner ready yet?” Ileana asked quickly.

  “I think it will be a few more minutes,” Chloe said, then looped her arm through Mac’s. “Come along, Mac, and make yourself comfor
table. I was just having a small glass of wine. Would you like to join me?”

  “Only if Ileana will share one with us,” he said.

  “Usually Ileana doesn’t drink anything but water,” Chloe said. “But maybe she’ll make an exception tonight—for you,” Chloe added.

  Ileana didn’t know why her mother was speaking in such a coy manner or why Chloe expected her to drink a glass of wine when she knew her daughter didn’t like alcohol. But then, this whole issue with Mac McCleod was strange. His presence must be rubbing off on her mother, too, she thought.

  “Only a very small glass,” Ileana told her.

  Mac took a seat in a stuffed armchair situated a few feet from the fireplace, which at the moment was cracking and hissing with a roaring fire. Ileana took a chair across from him and crossed her legs. Then realizing she didn’t feel comfortable, she rested both feet flat on the floor and folded her hands in her lap.

  Across the room, at a small wet bar, Chloe asked, “So have you been in Ruidoso for long, Mac?”

  “Only since yesterday, ma’am.”

  “How do you like this area?” she asked, as she handed him a glass of wine.

  He thanked her, then said, “It’s very beautiful. But it’s not Texas. No offense, ma’am.”

  Chloe laughed softly. “I know what you mean, Mac. Texas is your home, so nothing could compare.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “That pretty much says how it is.”

  Chloe handed Ileana a glass with a very short amount of red liquid in the bottom, then took a seat on a nearby couch.

  Ileana said, “I’m sorry my father couldn’t be with us tonight, Mac. He’s away on business right now.”

  “Is he a cattleman?” Mac asked.

  “No. Daddy knows about cattle, but he’s mainly an oilman,” Ileana explained.

  “Wyatt owns and runs a natural gas exploration business,” Chloe added. “He was doing that when we married—oh so many years ago.”

  Mac looked back and forth between the two women. These people were well off financially. Even more than he’d initially thought. “This ranch, do you run stock on it?”