Ileana felt something deep inside her stir—something far more than just empathy for his difficult situation. The raw need she saw on his face reminded her of her own disappointments and lost dreams.
“No,” she answered. “I’m not sure how she’d react. I can’t take that chance. Not yet.”
Shrugging, he looked back at her. “I’m not sure how she’s going to react, either.”
He obviously had moved beyond wondering if Frankie was his mother. He seemed resigned to the idea that Frankie Cantrell and Frankie McCleod were one and the same.
He suddenly smiled and shook his head. “But I’m not here to talk about her. Will you be coming back to the ranch house this evening?”
The idea of repeating what had happened between them last night shot a thrill from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. She’d be lying to herself if she tried to pretend the man didn’t excite her. But something told her if she expected to keep her peace of mind intact, she needed to give him a wide berth.
She gripped the stems of the flowers as though they were the last handhold at the edge of the cliff. “Not this evening. I have tons of work to do.”
“Chloe tells me your father will be back home tonight. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
How could she resist him when he seemed so nice and unpretentious? Should she even bother trying to resist? “I’m sure you’ll like Dad,” she said. “He’s an easygoing guy.”
He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Well, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow at the hospital.”
She gave him a brief smile, while wondering why she didn’t have the courage to tell him she’d stop by the ranch tonight, that she’d like to spend time with him.
Because men don’t want those sort of signals from you, Ileana. You’re plain and boring. A few minutes with you is all it takes to make them uninterested. Haven’t they always dropped you after one date? Isn’t that enough to convince you you’re a disaster with men?
Doing her best to ignore the hateful little voice in her head, she said in the most professional tone she could muster, “Yes. I’ll be doing my rounds in the morning and tomorrow evening.”
“Okay,” he said stiffly. “I’ll try to catch you then.”
She didn’t make any sort of reply, and after a few more awkward moments, he gestured toward the bunch of flowers in her hand. “You’d better put those in some water. And I’d better let you get back to work.”
Planting his hat back on his head, he quickly slipped out the door. Ileana looked down at the flowers and wondered whether she should cry or smile.
The next evening, after another long, arduous day, Ileana prepared to leave the hospital. On her way out, she stopped by the nurse’s station to write out last-minute patient instructions.As she quickly scribbled across the bottom of a chart, she said, “Renae, I want Mr. Tinsley’s blood pressure to be checked every hour. And make sure his family doesn’t sneak donuts or anything in to him tonight. I can’t get it through to them that his diabetes will be fatal if he doesn’t take care of himself.”
“Doc, they think they’re treating him when they bring him sweets.”
She handed the chart to Renae. “Yes, well, I’m the only one who’s supposed to be treating him,” Ileana said firmly.
“What about Ms. Cantrell? Anything extra for her?”
“No. Just make sure she doesn’t try to get out of her breathing treatments. I understand they exhaust her, but they must be done.”
Her expression curious, Renae picked up the chart. “You haven’t changed your visitor orders for her, have you?”
“No. Only Quint, Alexa or Abe. And only five minutes at a time. They understand why I’m doing this.”
“Yes. But does he?”
Frowning, Ileana asked, “What are you talking about?”
Renae motioned with her head toward the waiting area. “The cowboy. The Texan. He’s over there right now. I was expecting him to try to sneak down the hallway to Ms. Cantrell’s room or something, but he says he’s here to see you.”
Ileana’s heart picked up its pace as she looked down the wide corridor to where a glass wall separated family and visitors from the hustle and bustle of hospital traffic. From her position, she couldn’t see Mac, but she had no doubt that Renae had spotted the man. Yesterday in her office he’d mentioned that he would try to catch up to her while she was on rounds. She’d not seen him this morning, and by this evening, she’d figured he would think it too late to drive all the way in from the ranch.
“Has he been here long?” Ileana asked.
“Maybe thirty minutes.” Renae’s eyes narrowed in a calculating way. “Just what sort of connection does he have to Ms. Cantrell, anyway?”
Leave it to the nurse to ask personal questions, Ileana thought irritably. Renae was mostly well meaning, but she loved to gossip. The last thing Ileana wanted was for the news of Mac’s presence to travel through the staff and be repeated to Frankie.
“He used to know her. And I’d appreciate it, Renae, if you didn’t repeat this to anyone. And that especially goes for Frankie.”
Renae looked properly insulted. “You don’t have to tell me to keep my mouth shut, Doc. I can keep secrets.”
Secrets. If Mac’s story was true, then it appeared that Frankie had been keeping some very deep, dark secrets, Ileana thought. The whole idea still stunned her. Almost as much as the man himself.
Shouldering her handbag, she said, “Thanks, Renae. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Unless I’m needed back here tonight.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” The nurse’s smile turned sly. “Are you going to drop by the waiting room to see the cowboy?”
Ileana bit back a sigh. “Renae, I’m sure if you’ll look, you’ll find you have plenty of work to do.”
The nurse scrunched up her nose and giggled. “Okay, Doc. You don’t have to say anything else. Have a nice night.”
Ileana left the nurse’s station and as she headed toward the waiting area, she unconsciously smoothed a hand over her hair. Normally she wore it pulled tightly in a ballerina’s knot or clasped at her nape, but for some reason today, she’d allowed the dark, reddish brown tresses to flow freely around her shoulders. The unrestricted hairstyle had gotten several looks from her coworkers and Ileana suspected they were all trying to figure out what had come over her. Even if they had questioned her, she wouldn’t have had a sensible reason for the change in her hairstyle. She didn’t know what had come over her, either.
Mac was just ending a call to his brother when he spotted Ileana striding toward him. The first thing he noticed was all that burnished hair lying loose and shiny on her shoulders, and then his gaze caught the fatigue on her face. Apparently her day had been long and draining, and he could only wonder why a woman who was financially secure chose to work at such a demanding job.
Because she’s a caring, giving woman, Mac. Because life holds a deeper meaning for her than it does for those women you’ve associated yourself with.
Irritated at himself for even comparing Ileana Saunders to his former girlfriends, he shoved the thoughts away and rose to his feet to greet her.
“Good evening, Ileana. Did the nurse tell you I was waiting to see you?”
She nodded, and like yesterday, Mac found his gaze going straight to her lips. He’d kissed many a woman in his time, and some of the exchanges had been sexual mindblowers. But none of them had affected him the way that Ileana’s sweet lips had. The feel of her, the taste of her had continued to go over and over in his head like a vinyl record hung in one spot. He wanted to repeat the kiss. He wanted to see for himself if the whole experience had simply been magnified in his mind. If she was just a distraction from his other worries.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m surprised to see you. When you didn’t show up this morning, I figured you had changed your mind about coming by the hospital.”
An odd sort of excitement seeped through him, causing his lips to spread into a sheepish g
rin. He couldn’t understand why this quiet, modest woman made him feel so very young, so happy to be alive. None of it made sense. But then, Mac wasn’t going to try to figure it out. For tonight he was simply going to enjoy these unexpected feelings.
“Actually, I had selfish reasons for driving in from the ranch this evening,” he told her. “And it wasn’t to pester you about seeing Ms. Cantrell. I wanted to see if you were free tonight. To have dinner with me.”
Her eyes widened, and Mac could see that his suggestion had taken her by surprise. The reaction made him wonder if she ever had social evenings with a man. Or did she put being a doctor first and a woman last?
“Dinner? With me?” she repeated.
“Yes. As good as Cesar’s cooking is, I thought it would be nice to try one of the restaurants in town. And for us to share a little time away from your family.”
She glanced away from him, while her fingers fiddled nervously with the leather strap across her shoulder. “I’m afraid I have to decline, Mac. I have lots of work to do tonight.”
Mac wasn’t used to being turned down, and Ileana’s refusal chopped a hunk right out of his ego. But more than that, it disappointed him greatly.
“Do you work every night?”
“Almost.”
“Then you don’t take time to eat?”
She looked at him with faint annoyance. “Of course I take time to eat. I’m a doctor. I know I need nourishment to keep my body going.”
He smiled broadly. “I’m glad you do. So it’s settled. You have to eat anyway, so it might as well be with me. I’ve already told your folks I won’t be back.”
Shaking her head with surrender, she looked down at herself. “I’m hardly dressed for dining out.”
The gray woolen slacks and thin black sweater could only be described as practical rather than glamorous. But they draped her slender figure becomingly. In fact, in an odd way, the high neck of her sweater was more provocative than a plunging neckline. It teased his imagination and made him long to see what she was hiding.
“You look just fine to me.”
She sighed. “All right. But it will have to be a short dinner.”
Smiling happily, he took the coat she had tossed over her forearm and helped her into it. “Surely you don’t want us to dine on fast food. That wouldn’t be healthy.”
Ileana could have very nearly laughed. Who was the man kidding? She doubted he’d ever had a second thought about anything he’d eaten. He was the sort of man who satisfied his wants, whether they were good for him or not.
So why was he inviting her to dinner? To think he actually wanted to be with her was crazy. She wasn’t beautiful or interesting. She wasn’t exciting or sexy. And as soon as Mac realized she was nothing but plain and practical, he’d disappear like mountain snow in mid-July.
“Since when have you been concerned about your health?”
Grinning, he eased his arm around the back of her waist and urged her toward the nearest exit.
“Since I met a doctor with pretty auburn hair and blue, blue eyes.”
Don’t get caught up in this, Ileana. The man has an agenda, and it isn’t romance.
Chapter Five
T en minutes later, as Mac drove them to the north edge of town, Ileana was still trying to convince herself that nothing about this evening was romantic. But it felt like that and more as Mac turned in to a small, rustic-looking restaurant built against a steep mountainside.
“I didn’t know this place existed. How did you find it?” Ileana asked curiously as he helped her out of the cab of his truck.For tonight the wind had disappeared, leaving the night air crisp and still. Mac’s hand remained against her back as they walked across the graveled parking lot. She tried to tell herself that he was simply being a gentleman, but still the casual touch was creating havoc with her senses.
“I was driving around earlier this evening,” he said, “trying to spot a nice place for us to have dinner. This one caught my eye. It’s a simple little hideaway. But from the packed parking lot, I have a feeling the food is good.”
So he’d already picked out a restaurant before he’d even asked her to have dinner, she thought. Did he think she was that eager for a date? That she’d be that willing to agree to his plans?
This isn’t a date, Ileana. You haven’t been on a date in years.
The little voice in her head had Ileana asking herself why she’d even want to go on a date anyway. The few times she’d attempted to find a compatible companion, she’d endured dates spent in boring silence, or she’d ended up exhausted from listening to her date drone on and on about himself. But she wasn’t going to think about those times. This was different. She was simply having a meal with an acquaintance and nothing more, she reminded herself.
Inside the restaurant, a hostess promptly ushered them to a small table tucked in an out-of-the-way corner. After helping Ileana take off her coat and into a wooden chair, Mac took a seat directly across from her.
“I’m starving,” he said as he slipped off his hat and shoved it beneath his chair. “I hope you brought your appetite with you tonight. I don’t want to be the only one eating too much.”
Earlier, before she’d finished her rounds at the hospital, Ileana had felt so hungry she’d been tempted to raid the vending machine and chomp on a candy bar between patients. But now food was nothing but an afterthought. Her whole body was buzzing, trying to digest the fact that she was sitting across from Mac in a cozy restaurant. Soft music was playing in the background, and he was looking at her as though he really wanted to be here.
“I’ll try to down my fair share,” she said with a faint smile.
He settled comfortably back in his chair, and as Ileana cast surreptitious glances his way she was reminded all over again at how muscular, rugged and sexy he was.
“So how was Frankie today?” he asked.
“Slightly improved. Her heart problem greatly slows her progress at getting well, though.”
The idea that his mother might have a very serious heart condition left Mac uncomfortable. All these years she’d been away, he’d envisioned his mother as a vibrant, healthy woman. The way she’d been when she’d left their home. It was hard to imagine that same woman with thirty years added on to her age and in declining health to boot.
“Exactly what is wrong with her heart?” he asked curiously.
Her soft smile was apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mac. I can’t discuss the details of a patient’s condition. But I’m sure Alexa or Quint would be glad to explain it all to you.”
Mac was about to tell her that he had no definite plans to speak with Frankie Cantrell’s children, when a waitress arrived with menus. After she’d taken their drink orders and left the table, he said, “Can you tell me whether Frankie’s condition can be fixed?”
Ileana picked up her menu, yet she kept her gaze directly on him, and Mac realized he liked her polite attentiveness. Whenever they spoke to each other, she made him feel as though she was really listening, as though what he had to say was important to her. He couldn’t remember any woman who had done that to him.
“Her problem can be fixed. But she refuses treatment.”
Mac frowned. “Why is that? In this day and age, medical procedures are a heck of a lot easier to deal with than they used to be.”
“Frankie understands that. But I’m not sure what’s behind her thinking. Losing Lewis, her husband, last year pretty much took her will away. But I shouldn’t be saying this much to you about her health situation.”
She dropped her eyes to her menu, and Mac decided not to push the issue. Sooner or later he’d meet Frankie Cantrell face-to-face and then he’d find out for himself what the woman was about. Or would he? Even if she turned out to be his mother, that didn’t mean she’d want to speak with him, much less spend time explaining anything to him.
Dear God, what if that happened? He’d spent years trying to get over Frankie’s rejection. How could he live through a second one? Ho
w could he go back to Texas and tell Ripp that their mother refused to allow them into her life?
Because you’re a grown man this time, Mac. Because you’ve got a tough hide and an even tougher heart. You’re not going to let any woman hurt you again.
Clearing his throat, he picked up his own menu and turned his thoughts to the list of meals.
A few moments later, after the waitress had served them wine and left with their orders, Mac said, “I met your father last night. I really liked him. He was nothing like I expected.”
She warmed to his compliment. “What were you expecting him to be?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. More of a stuffy businessman, I suppose. He’s very down to earth.”
“I do have a wonderful father. Even though he has a stressful job, he’s always put his family first. What about your father, Mac? Did you two get along well?”
For a moment Mac was taken aback by her question. Not because it was personal but because he’d never had a woman ask him such a thing. The women he often dated never initiated conversations about family relations. Their chatter was limited more to the latest movies, fashions or material things like cars or technical gadgets. At the deepest, the local town gossip was discussed. This sort of talk, especially with a woman, was very different for Mac, and he wasn’t sure just how to go about it.
“We got along good,” he said after a moment. “Owen was a very tough man in many ways, but he was devoted to my brother and me. All the years while we were growing up he worked as a farmer, raising corn and cotton. He taught us both all about making things grow from the ground and what it took to make a living from such a job.”
So Mac’s father was a farmer, Ileana mused. And from what Chloe had told her, Frankie’s ex had been a farmer, also. The facts had to be more than coincidental. Her expression curious, she asked, “What caused him to leave farming and become a sheriff?”
“When I was sixteen, we went through a really rough period when the price of corn plummeted and cotton wasn’t much better. Add a drought onto that and it nearly wiped us out financially. That’s when Dad decided he needed a more stable income and a friend talked him into running for the county sheriff’s position. Once he won the election and became certified as a law officer, Dad seemed to take to the job. Besides having a knack for solving crimes, he treated everyone fairly, and I think that’s why he kept getting reelected.”
A Texan on Her Doorstep Page 7
