A Texan on Her Doorstep

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A Texan on Her Doorstep Page 12

by Stella Bagwell


  Back inside, Mac carried the wood to the living room and, after removing the screen on the fireplace, carefully stacked it on the low burning coals.

  He was using a poker to fire up the coals when Ileana appeared from another part of the house. She’d brushed her long hair and buttoned a thin sweater over her T-shirt. And if Mac was seeing right, there was a bit of new pink color on her lips. The idea that she might have used the lipstick for his sake made him glad. Which was totally ridiculous. Most women wore lipstick regularly. At least, the ones he knew.

  But not Ileana. She wasn’t the glamour, take-a-look-at-me sort of girl. He figured it had to be something special to make her put a bit of color on her face. And he wanted to believe he was that something special.

  Smiling tentatively, she eased a hip down on the arm of a stuffed chair. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on getting this much of a lesson about our bad weather,” she said.

  “That’s all right. It’ll give me a story to tell Ripp whenever I get home.”

  Home. Right now it was hard for Mac to picture the rooms of his house, to feel the emptiness that touched him each time he stepped through the door. It was different for him here with Ileana and her family. Just being around them made him feel as though he was a part of something. How could that be, he wondered, when he’d only known them for a few short days?

  “You could call him,” Ileana suggested. “He might enjoy hearing that you’re in the middle of a snowstorm.”

  Mac shook his head. “I tried dialing him earlier. I guess the weather has knocked out the tower signal. I couldn’t get anything to work.”

  Ileana gestured toward a telephone sitting on a table at the end of the couch. “There’s the landline. You’re very welcome to use it.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a half grin, “but I’ll call him later. It’s not necessary right now.”

  She rose from her seat and picked up the television remote lying on a coffee table made of varnished cedar. “I’ll turn on the weather, and maybe we can find a forecast to tell us how much more of this we can expect.”

  The fire had begun to crackle merrily, so Mac put the screen back into position, then turned to see her searching through the channels.

  He thrust a hand through his hair, then wiped it over his face. “Ileana, I’m wondering if I should head down the mountain to your parents’ house. Otherwise, I might be stuck here tonight.”

  Her eyes wide, she glanced at him and then a bright blush stole across her cheeks.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize you were planning on going back to the ranch house tonight. The weather isn’t fit for any more traveling. You really should stay here with me.”

  Chapter Eight

  U tterly stunned by her comment, he took a few uncertain steps toward her. “When I drove you up here, I did it because I wanted to see you home safely. But I—well, staying here certainly hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  She placed the remote on the coffee table, then straightened to face him. Mac was surprised to see her gaze didn’t flinch shyly away from his when she spoke.“Why not? I have a guest room. You should find it comfortable. Much more comfortable than traipsing through the snow again.”

  Mac could hardly argue that point. But staying here with Ileana somehow felt indecent. Maybe he felt that way because she was so prim and proper. Or maybe it was because his mind was drifting to places that were far from appropriate.

  “I’m sure you’re right about that.” He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “But what about your parents? They’re going to be expecting me to show up. They’re probably already wondering why I haven’t.”

  Not bothering to reply, she walked over to the telephone and quickly punched in a number. After a few short moments, she began to speak, “Mom, it’s me. Yes. I…that was our lights…I had to go to the hospital. Mac drove me. No. Everything is okay there. I wanted to let you know that Mac is going to stay here at my place tonight. The mountain is getting icy. Yes, we will. Yes, I’ll tell him. Good night.”

  Ileana hung up the phone and looked at him. “She thinks you’re doing the smart thing. And the snow is supposed to level off by morning. If necessary, Dad will send up a tractor to help you get your truck off the mountain.”

  “It does make sense,” Mac said more to himself than to her. “I just don’t have anything with me. Not even a toothbrush.”

  “I have a new one that’s still in its box. And if you’re worried about clean clothes, my brother left a few of his clothes with me a while back to give to a charity in town, and I’ve never completed the chore. He’s pretty much your size. In fact, there might even be pajamas if…you need them.”

  Mac grinned. “Thanks, Ileana, I might take you up on a pair of clean jeans in the morning. But as for the pajamas I wouldn’t know what to do with them.”

  “It gets very cold up here on the mountain. As you’ll find out tonight.”

  “I’ll survive.” Just thinking about her was enough to keep him warm, he thought.

  She slid her palms nervously down the thighs of her jeans, then rose to her feet. “Well, I’ll go make us something warm to drink. Would you like more coffee or hot chocolate?”

  “Hot chocolate would be nice,” he told her.

  She gestured to the couch. “Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. It won’t take me long.”

  “I’ll just keep you company in the kitchen. If you don’t mind,” he added.

  The corners of her mouth tilted upward. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

  Mac followed her into the other room, and while she pulled out milk and fixings for the drink, he walked over to the patio door and looked out.

  “I can hear the wind howling out there,” he said. “I hate to think of the wildlife and livestock having to deal with this brutal weather. Does your mother care for her horses any differently when it gets this cold?”

  She chuckled softly. “Believe me, Mac, Mother coddles her horses at all times. Right now they’re snug in their stalls. They’re all wearing blankets, a barn heater is blowing and a radio is playing music for them. They’re happy.”

  He turned away from the glass door and walked over to where Ileana was working at the cabinet counter. Her head was bent slightly, making her dark auburn hair slide forward to curtain her face. The few times he’d touched her hair, the rich, shiny strands had been soft and silky against his hands, and he found himself wanting to bury his fingers in them again, to gather them in his fist and draw her close against him. What would she think? That he was a jerk? Or would she be glad to surrender in his arms? Usually Mac could read a woman. But he was learning that nothing about Ileana was the same as other women.

  Jamming his hands in his pockets, he said, “How long has your mother been interested in racing horses?”

  “Since she was a little girl. From the time she could walk, my grandfather would take her to the track with him. So she caught the bug early on. By the time he died, he’d already taught her most everything he knew about training racehorses. Mother says she’s one of those people who have been blessed with getting to do a job that she loves.”

  Mac studied her thoughtfully as she stirred powdered cocoa and sugar together. “You’re doing a job that you love, aren’t you?”

  One of her slender shoulders lifted and fell. “Yes. But I don’t think I get quite the same enjoyment that Mother does from hers. When one of her horses finishes at the top, she’s jumping up and down, laughing and yelling. She stays on a high for days afterward. Now me, when I see someone pull out of a serious illness I just feel glad inside. That’s all.”

  “Hmm. Well, it makes you happy just the same, doesn’t it?”

  She glanced up at him, and Mac was smitten with the way her blue eye was playing peekaboo with the strand of hair resting on her brow. The woman was sexy, he realized. And she didn’t even know it.

  “I suppose.”

  “Is there anything that would make you happier than being a doctor?”

 
Her gaze quickly fell to mixing bowl on the counter. “I’ve never thought about it that much,” she said softly. “Maybe…having a child. That would make me very happy.”

  Yes. He could see where this woman might long to be a mother. With her soft hands and gentle, nurturing ways, she seemed made for the part. Yet on the other hand, he couldn’t quite imagine her making wild, passionate love to a man. Unless, maybe that man was him.

  What the hell are you thinking, Mac? Ileana doesn’t want to make love to you. And she sure as heck wouldn’t want a child of yours!

  Why wouldn’t she want a child of mine? Mac asked the pestering voice in his head. What was wrong with him, besides being a little arrogant and selfish and a set-in-his-ways bachelor?

  Don’t bother answering those questions, Mac. You gave up wanting children long ago. When you mentioned having babies to Brenna and she laughed in your face.

  Ileana poured the cocoa and milk in a large pot and carried it over to the gas range. As she adjusted the flame beneath it, she said, “I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but Mother first met Frankie at Ruidoso Downs.”

  Her statement grabbed Mac’s attention and jerked his mind off his meandering thoughts. “No. I didn’t know that. What was Frankie doing there?”

  “Working in the concession.”

  “So she’d needed a job when she first arrived in Ruidoso,” he said thoughtfully.

  “I think so. I remember Mother saying that Frankie was pretty down and out. She helped her find an affordable place to live and eventually a better job as a file clerk in a local savings and loan.”

  Mac crossed the space between them and stood next to her at the stove. “How did she meet Lewis?”

  “Through my parents. They were giving a party for some of the local ranchers, and Mother had invited both of them. I guess you could say the rest is history. They fell in love and got married not long after they met. Now Frankie is shattered over losing him.”

  She must have adored her second husband, Mac thought, whereas, she must have hated Owen. Why else would she have left his father? He couldn’t answer that. Not until he knew whether the Frankie lying in the hospital bed was one and the same.

  “This is almost ready,” she said. “If you’d like, you can find two mugs over in the cabinet next to the sink.”

  Glad for the distraction, Mac fetched the cups. After Ileana filled them, they carried their drinks into the living room and took seats on the couch.

  For the next hour, Mac urged her to tell him more about the Bar M and her family. Eventually she pulled out a scrapbook of photos and pointed out special places and occasions that had happened over the years.

  Mac was surprised at how much he enjoyed hearing her talk about simple family things, at how much her voice soothed him, seduced him into thinking the two of them were in a world all their own.

  But eventually, she put the photos away and announced she was tired and needed to retire for the night.

  Mac could have easily sat next to her all night for no other reason than to simply be near her, but he understood she’d put in a stressful day at work, not to mention the long added trip of going into town to check on Frankie. No doubt she was exhausted.

  Rising from the couch, he said, “I’m sorry I’ve kept you up so late, Ileana. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Standing on the hearth, she looked across at him. “Don’t be silly. I stayed up because I’ve enjoyed talking with you. This evening has been special for me.”

  Special. Yes, that word kept coming to Mac’s mind, too. And wouldn’t his brother’s jaw drop if he could see him now, enjoying a quiet evening at home with a woman who considered her brain much more important than her looks? Yes, Ripp would be surprised at this change in his brother but not nearly as surprised as Mac himself. Getting to know Ileana was something very new for a man like him. And very special.

  Something suddenly swelled in Mac’s chest, but he did his best to ignore the feeling as he gestured toward the fireplace. “Should I put more wood on the fire tonight?”

  Ileana shook her head. “Once the fire burns out, the central heating will take over.” She stepped off the hearth and walked over to him. “Come along, and I’ll show you your room.”

  Mac followed her out of the living room and down a short hallway. At the very end, she opened a door on her left and, after flipping on the light, motioned for him to enter.

  “It’s been a while since anyone has stayed overnight with me. But I’m certain the sheets are clean,” she said as she trailed behind him. “If you should get cold there’s more blankets in the closet, and behind that door in the corner is your own private bathroom. And while I think of it, I’ll go get you that toothbrush.”

  She hurried out of the room, and Mac walked over to the standard-size bed covered with a patchwork quilt done in bright blues and yellows. The room was spacious and comfortably furnished with plain pine furniture, including a rocking chair and a small cedar chest at the end of the bed. More photos of horses, the Saunders family and areas of the ranch hung on all the walls.

  No doubt she was proud of her heritage and her home. And no doubt she’d never be willing to leave it.

  God, Mac, why would that thought ever enter your head? Ileana is just a nice woman that you’re getting to know. That’s all.

  But it felt like so much more when she returned to the room and his gaze encountered her smiling face.

  “Here you go. I brought a tube of toothpaste with it.” She handed him the slender boxes. “Everything else you might need should be in the bathroom.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be comfortable,” he said. Then on second thought he asked, “Will you be going into town tomorrow for your hospital rounds?”

  Reaching up, she ran a hand over her hair, and Mac could see that she was weary. The sight made him want to scoop her up and carry her to bed, to stroke and cuddle her and then in the morning make breakfast for her.

  “Thankfully, I’m not on duty tomorrow. Dr. Vickers will be on call all weekend.”

  “What about Frankie? You made a special trip in for her.”

  “I don’t plan on doing that again. I’ve left certain instructions for Dr. Vickers, and he’s perfectly capable of handling her illness while I’m off.”

  “That’s great!” Mac exclaimed, then figuring that didn’t sound quite right, he added, “I mean, it’s good that you’ll have time off to rest.”

  “Yes.” She smiled faintly. “Maybe we could do something special together tomorrow.”

  There was that word again, Mac thought. Then unable to stop himself, his hand reached out to settle on her shoulder.

  “Ileana, I—”

  Feeling more awkward than he ever had in his life, his words broke off and her eyes widened in question, then flickered with something that looked to Mac like longing. Or was that just a mirror of his own feelings?

  He swallowed and tried again. “I just wanted to say that earlier—before we drove into Ruidoso—that kiss…it was, well, I’d not meant for it to get so out of hand. But I’m going to be honest and admit that I’m glad it did.”

  He could hear her soft intake of breath, and then her eyes softened in a way that melted his heart.

  “I’m glad that it got out of hand, too,” she whispered shyly.

  The urge to jerk her into his arms warred with his silent vow to be a gentleman and the violent tug on his emotions was something he’d never experienced before.

  His eyelids drooped as he gently trailed his fingers over her hair.

  “I think we’d better say good-night,” he murmured. “Or I might not let you out of this room.”

  Her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly, she looked at him for long moments. Then finally she let out a long breath and nodded.

  “Good night, Mac.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, he released his hold on her shoulder, and she quickly turned and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind her, Mac eased down on the side of the bed and tried to
gather his senses.

  What in hell was happening to him?

  When Ileana awoke the next morning, sunshine was streaming through the bedroom window, and the smell of bacon and coffee was filtering beneath the door.The fact that Mac was already up and obviously cooking had her jumping quickly out of bed and racing to the bathroom. When she emerged a few short minutes later, she pulled a pink chenille robe over her gown and hurried through the house.

  When she entered the kitchen, she found Mac standing at the range, turning sizzling bacon strips with a long fork. On top of the refrigerator, a transistor radio was playing sixties rock, while on the dining table two places were neatly set with plates, silverware and napkins.

  To have a man in her kitchen doing such things was a shock to Ileana’s senses, and for a moment she simply stood in the open doorway staring at him.

  He must have sensed her presence, because he suddenly looked over his shoulder and smiled brightly at her. “Good morning, sunshine! Ready for breakfast?”

  Shoving her tumbled hair off her face, she walked over to him. He was wearing the same jeans and shirt he’d been wearing last night, only he hadn’t bothered buttoning the shirt, and it flapped open to show a tempting strip of skin and chest hair.

  If having him in the house wasn’t enough to shake her up, the sight of his bare chest was. “Yes, I think so. Are you always this chipper in the morning?”

  “Depends on how many beers I have the night before,” he teased.

  She rubbed fingers over her puffy eyes. “Well, I’m a deep sleeper, so I apologize for looking and sounding so groggy.”

  “You look very pretty to me.”

  The man had to be legally blind and in desperate need of glasses, she thought. The mirror didn’t lie and yet Mac had a way about him that made her feel pretty and attractive, and that was something she’d never experienced in her life before.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “Did you find everything you needed?”

 

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