of them.”
“Ouch.”
“Yes, it hurt. He told me to call him Uncle Will, instead. I did as he asked, but for a long time afterward I still thought of him as my dad. My real father died shortly after I was born, and Will was the only father I’d ever known.”
“So he placated his wife at your expense?”
“He had no choice,” Kara loyally defended her former stepfather. “A husband does what he has to do to make his wife happy.”
“Let me rephrase that for you—a wimp caves in and lets the woman have the upper hand,” Mac said scornfully. “And it’s always a big, big mistake.”
“One you’d never make, I’m sure,” Kara murmured, because she simply could not let his chauvinistic remark go unchallenged.
“That’s right,” Mac agreed proudly. It seemed he’d interpreted her challenge as a compliment. He shook his head, bemused. “None of this sounds like the Rev and Ginny I’ve known for the past fifteen years.”
“Uncle Will was heartbroken when my mother left him for another man. So was I.” Kara’s voice grew bleak, remembering that sad time. “Mom always claimed he married Ginny on the rebound and Ginny knew it. That’s why she resented Will’s relationship with me so much. I was a reminder that my mother, and not Ginny, was the great love of his life.”
“It’s hard to imagine the Rev in the role of romantic lead,” Mac said wryly. “And even harder to picture Ginny as a possessive shrew, nasty to little girls. She’s always been so helpful and upbeat.”
“I doubt that even the most helpful, upbeat woman likes to think of herself as second best when it comes to love. Women always found my mother a threat because she was—and still is—a very beautiful woman.”
Kara felt Mac’s eyes upon her, assessing her. Doubtlessly trying to imagine how a very beautiful woman had managed to produce such an ordinary daughter. It was not the first time she’d been confronted with that particular puzzle.
“Unfortunately, I look nothing like my mother. From the pictures I’ve seen, I take after my dad’s side,” she felt compelled to explain. “Average in every way.”
“There is nothing wrong with the way you look,” Mac said gruffly.
Kara shifted uncomfortably and turned her attention to her cat, kneading his fur with gentle fingers. She had never discussed herself or her past so frankly with any man, and she suspected she’d sounded downtrodden and filled with self-pity. Which she was not! She felt a surge of anger at Mac Wilde for putting her into this unholy predicament.
Mac reacted to her silence. “Are you waiting for me to counter with a feature-by-feature rave of your face and figure?” He heaved an impatient sigh. “Look, I’ve never been one of those touchy-feely types who ooze syrupy compliments and pour on the charm. And I—”
“Obviously not,” Kara cut in tartly. “You seem extremely practical with no time or patience for anything dealing with emotion or sentiment. I guess that falls into the dreaded touchy-feely department? Well, has it occurred to you that there might be a direct correlation between your hardheadedness and your need to—to attempt to buy a wife?” She had never been so caustic or outspoken in her life, but somehow Mac brought it out in her.
Mac arched his brows. “At the risk of sounding redundant—ouch!”
He lifted his hand from the wheel to run one long finger along the length of her arm, from her shoulder to her fingertips. “The lady has claws, hmm? Just like her kitty.”
Kara shivered. Though well-protected under the heavy cotton of her sweater, her skin tingled along the path that he’d traced. “Don’t patronize me,” she growled.
“Whatever you say, sweetie.” He flashed a teasing grin.
A quivering spiral of tension coiled in her stomach. When he smiled like that, he was devastating. A fact he probably well knew, lectured a stern little voice in her head. Some cautious feminine instinct warned her that Mac Wilde was not averse to turning on the charm, should it serve his purpose.
Silence descended between them. Kara’s nerves felt stretched to the screaming point as she reviewed this decidedly bizarre situation. Mac Wilde had footed the bill for her journey and in return expected her to marry him and help him raise his four unruly nieces and nephews.
What a preposterous idea! Was he dreaming? Perhaps she’d fallen asleep on the plane and when she opened her eyes, the flight would be landing and Uncle Will would be waiting eagerly at the gate for her.
Mac, on the other hand, did not seem affected by any tension whatsoever. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he announced cheerfully. He turned up the volume and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat. “Merle Haggard. ‘That’s the Way Love Goes.’”
It did not go well, according to the lyrics. And Kara knew this absurd idea of his was just doomed to fail.
“I’ll repay you for the cost of my plane ticket, of course.” Kara gulped, wishing she could appear cool and controlled, but failing utterly. “I—I’m terribly sorry about the misunderstanding. This is all so embarrassing. No, it’s beyond embarrassing. It’s absolutely mortifying!”
“I don’t want to be reimbursed. I expect you to honor the terms of our agreement and marry me.”
“But we have no agreement!”
“I bought that ticket in good faith and assumed you’d accepted it and the terms offered in the same good faith.” Mac slid a glance at her.
He was surprised at how well he was able to read her already. She was confused and aghast, the better to fall for this legal spiel he was spinning. “Maybe you’re scamming me,” he accused. “Using my money for a free visit to Montana? Who can guess how much more cash you planned to wring out of me. Maybe the Rev is in cahoots with you. Find a sucker, promise him a—”
“How can you even think such a thing!” Kara cried, panic lacing her voice. “This is all just a—a terrible misunderstanding.”
“That’s what you said before. I’m not buying it, honey. I think you and the Rev tried to con me,” Mac said rather gleefully.
“We did no such thing!” Kara stared at him. That gleam in his dark eyes, that note of triumph in his voice suddenly alerted her to the possibility that Mac Wilde might be improvising. Masterfully. “You have no reason to suspect any conspiracy or wrongdoing. Or any proof, either,” she added succinctly.
“Don’t I? Then answer this question for me, Kara. If Ginny Franklin regards you as a thorn in her side, if she sees you as an unpleasant reminder of an era she is determined to forget, then why would she suddenly allow her husband to invite you to stay at their home and to pay for your ticket out here?”
Kara opened her mouth to speak, then abruptly closed it. She’d asked herself that same question when Uncle Will had first extended the invitation. But she had been so happy to be invited, she hadn’t probed any deeper. Had it been pure wishful thinking on her part, that she would at last be accepted into the Franklin family?
“You’ve never visited them out here before,” Mac
