From the regret in his voice, Macy knew he was speaking about his own situation. She lowered her tone and gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday with your—”
“Jocelyn?” He shifted his gaze to look out the window. “Yeah, I didn’t see that coming. I’m not sure what happened there, but I guarantee you I won’t let it happen again. I’ve got my guard up now.”
Macy nibbled on her lower lip. “You know, you can throw me off your property anytime you want. If you regret inviting me to stay at your place and would rather be alone, I’d understand.”
He faced her. “Don’t worry, Macy. Like I said, I’ve got ten thousand acres. You won’t get in my way. And I won’t get in yours. I don’t live with regrets. So don’t you worry your head off about me. Is it a deal?”
Macy smiled, more assured now. “It’s a deal.”
Three
The second Carter planted his boots down on Texas soil, he felt better. He’d been gone only a few days, but he was damn grateful to be back on his own land. Coming home to Wild River never got old.
Jocelyn had bruised him, and he couldn’t quite shake the feeling. He’d never asked a woman to marry him before. He’d never had the inclination. Jocelyn had reeled him in like a sucker, and just when he thought things were going great, she’d tossed him back into the water to fish for someone else.
Macy had been bruised, too. Her circumstances were different, but when he’d spotted her outside the restaurant, he’d seen a look of pain and disbelief in her eyes. He’d felt a kinship with her that, even now, he couldn’t truly define. It was the reason he’d invited her to Wild River.
He glimpsed his fifteen-room house and breathed in the earthy scent of range and cattle before he turned from the car to reach for Macy’s hand. She slid her palm into his and climbed out of her seat, as graceful as a doe, to stand beside him. “You ready for a slice of heaven?”
Those violet eyes of hers swept the Wild River vista and a little sigh escaped her lips. Carter’s chest puffed out some at her thunderstruck look. “Oh, it’s stunning, Carter.”
Carter had worked with an architect to give his home just the right mixture of down-home comfort and modern-day style. The result, much to his satisfaction, turned out to be a wood and stone structure with bay windows and skylights. Stone pilings and wrought-iron fencing surrounded the grounds. Beyond the house lay the outer buildings that made up the ranch itself, with corrals, barns and feed shacks.
“No tall skyscrapers blocking out the sunrise here.” He glanced eastward toward the orange blast of light lifting from the land in midday splendor. “Every room at the back of the house has a big window facing east. Same goes for sunsets for the rooms facing west.”
“And I bet you make sure you see the sun rise every day.”
“I’m up at the crack of dawn.”
Macy’s eyes rolled at his clichéd response. “Just like a regular cowpoke.”
He chuckled. Damn, but it felt good being home. “I’m a businessman, but I’m a rancher first. You gotta love the land and all that goes with it.”
“I’m feeling better already. I think I’m going to like it here,” she said softly, and Carter didn’t doubt it. His land had everything.
A four-legged ball of fur shot out of the barn, wagging its tail around and around like a jet propeller, and raced straight for Macy. Her face lit up. “Oh, isn’t he cute.”
“Say hi to Rocky. He sort of runs the place.”
Carter lowered down at the same time Macy did and their hands touched as they stroked the dog’s blond coat.
“Hello, Rocky,” Macy said with reverence.
“You like dogs?” he asked.
“What’s not to like? I had a dog once.” Her eyes grew distant and she sucked in a breath, shuddering. “My, uh, dad accidentally ran Queenie over. She died. It was awful.”
“That’s rough. Rocky here had a brush with death not too long ago.”
Macy kept vigilant, stroking the top of Rocky’s head and shoulders, and the darn dog was lapping it all up. “What happened?”
“There was a fire.”
“Oh no!”
“Yeah, Rocky almost didn’t make it.”
“Oh,” Macy said, intent on the dog. “Did you rescue Rocky, too?”
Carter grunted and rose to his full height. “In more ways than one.” But he wasn’t going there today. He didn’t want to ruin his good mood thinking about Riley McCay, his alcoholic father, and the dog he couldn’t care for. He turned to Henry, his foreman, who’d been giving Carter strange stares since he’d picked them up at the airport. Henry didn’t know what to make of Macy. He’d expected to see Jocelyn standing beside Carter outside the terminal gates.
His foreman retrieved Carter’s bag and Macy’s flamingo-pink suitcases from the back end of the vehicle and set them down on the ground, with a shake of his head. Carter’s lips pulled tight to keep from chuckling at his mystified foreman’s expression. “Thanks, Henry. I’ll take Macy’s bags into the house myself. Appreciate the ride.”
Henry nodded and shot a glance to Macy.
She looked up at the same time. “Yes, thank you, Henry.”
He tipped his hat to her, got in the SUV and drove off.
“I think you’ve made a friend there,” Carter said, heaving her suitcases.
“Henry?” she quizzed, looking up.
He pointed to the golden retriever. “I was talking about the dog.”
A genuine smile lifted her lips. “I think Rocky and I are going to be good friends.”
Macy rose and followed Carter toward the house, Rocky at her heels. At least his new houseguest liked dogs. Jocelyn would hoist her nose at Rocky and claim he triggered her allergies. The two hadn’t been friends.
Not that Carter was comparing the women or anything.
After Macy gushed over the interior living area of his home, which managed to puff his chest again, he walked her down the hallway, offering her one of three bedrooms. She stuck her head inside all of them and then met him back in the hallway. “Where is your bedroom?”
Well, damn. That was right to the point. If he’d been gulping whiskey, he might have spit his liquor at that one. “The last room down the hall and to the right.” His brows knit together. “Why?”
“I appreciate you letting me hide out here, but I don’t want to invade your privacy. I’ll take the one farthest from your room.”
That made sense. “Fine.”
He
