A Texan on Her Doorstep. Stella Bagwell
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“Well, it’s hard to speculate what might have taken place in Texas. Could be that Frankie didn’t have much choice,” Ileana said thoughtfully. “If the man was threatening her, she might have been forced to leave her boys.”
Chloe shook her head emphatically. “But she would have gone back for them. Somehow, someway, she would have gone back.”
“Obviously she didn’t,” Ileana countered. “In fact, she’s never mentioned them to you. Doesn’t that seem odd?”
“Odd? Hell, no. It seems downright mean,” Chloe shot back, then with a weary sigh, she reached across the table and covered Ileana’s hand with hers. “Honey, when will you be seeing this man again?”
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
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