found the tumor that was affecting the ‘balance’ area of her brain,” she concluded brokenly.
Mac drew her closer, until she was pressed against his side. His irises darkened. “You must have been terrified.”
Erin had been. Knowing she needed to continue unburdening herself, as much as he needed to listen, she leaned into his comforting warmth. “My husband and I took Angelica to MD Anderson in Houston. They did surgery and chemotherapy and radiation. She lost all her beautiful hair.” And had cried and cried and cried, until she decided she liked being bald, anyway. “For a while, we thought she was going to be okay.” Erin released a shuddering sigh, beginning to feel her heart go numb again at the memory. “But then the tumor came back...and Angelica died about three months after that.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mac embraced her. For a moment, Erin let herself be held against the solid warmth of his chest.
Aware she could get a little too used to that, she drew away. Exhaled again.
Mac let her go. He looked at her left hand, taking in the absence of a ring. “What happened to your husband?”
Needing some space, after confiding so much, Erin stood and began to roam the room. In a choked voice, she admitted, “The same thing that happens to a lot of parents who have terminally-ill kids.” She pushed away the hurt and disappointment that lingered. “G.W. discovered he couldn’t handle the loss. And he left.”
Mac had the same incredulous, disapproving reaction as most of their family and friends. “You’re divorced.”
It was more a statement than a question.
She nodded. “For over a year.”
He looked as if he wanted to punch something. “Where is he now?”
“All over the place. He’s a geologist. He works as a scout for an oil company.”
“Does he have contact with your sons?” Mac asked.
“Once every month or so he’ll call or come by, usually without warning.” She shrugged. “He sends child-support checks, though. I suppose we ought to be grateful for that.”
Mac pondered that. “How do your kids feel?”
Bitterness welled in her heart. It was one thing to be abandoned herself, another to watch her kids suffer through it. “How do you think? First they lose their sister. Then their dad leaves, too.”
As Mac watched her in silence, guilt washed over her. It wasn’t as if any of this were his fault. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so short with you.”
“Hey.” His lips quirked ruefully. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, for asking such an intrusive question. It’s just...Sammy and Stevie are such great kids, and it’s hard to imagine anyone walking away from them.”
Erin felt the same.
Silence fell once again.
She peered at Mac through narrowed lashes, studying him curiously. “What about you? You’re here with your daughter, no wife in tow.”
“Cassandra died of a pulmonary embolism two and a half years ago,” he said gruffly.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded, accepting her condolences.
Erin resisted the urge to comfort him with a touch, a hug, relying instead on a heartfelt look. “Is Heather still having a rough time?”
“She was so young, she doesn’t remember a lot about her mother. But she misses her best friend, whose family used to take care of her when I was on the road.”
Erin focused on the past tense. “Used to?”
He exhaled roughly and shoved a hand through his hair. “Joel was promoted. He and Anna and their daughter, Stella, moved to Kansas last week. I hired a live-in nanny, but Heather pitched a fit. So I went back to Philadelphia, released the nanny from our contract and brought my daughter back here to Texas with me.”
“You couldn’t just stay home in Philadelphia for a while?”
He shook his head. “There’s too much riding on this wind-farm deal.”
Erin let out a breath. “I see.” Obviously, Mac was one of those guys who would always put work first. Ahead of family, relationships, everything. Which was too bad for his daughter. Like Erin’s sons, Heather needed her one remaining parent, now more than ever.
Mac squinted at Erin, his mood suddenly as pensive as hers. “I’m not sure you do understand...”
Just then the front door slammed. Nicholas and four of his buddies sauntered in.
The anticipated questions started for Mac. And that, Erin found, was the end of that.
* * *
BY THE TIME Erin had dinner ready, Gavin had dragged himself in the door, after a thirty-six-hour shift at the hospital. His eyes rimmed with fatigue, he said, “Storm’s coming, sis,” and went straight to bed.
Thinking they’d better eat soon if all her guests were to get home safely, Erin went out to the porch and rang the dinner bell.
Stevie and Sammy put all three bikes in the garage and then dashed in, followed by Heather.
“Sit between us. That way you can be next to both of us,” Stevie urged after they’d washed their hands.
Another arrow to Erin’s heart. And yet...it was obvious that her boys hadn’t looked this happy and content in ages. She hadn’t realized until this very moment how much they needed another little girl to fill the void left in their lives, in the wake of Angelica’s passing.
In the distance, Erin heard thunder. Spurred into action, she carried the piping hot baking dish of King Ranch casserole to the table, then returned to the stove for the big bowls of Mexican rice and refried beans. In honor of their youngest guest, Erin had also prepared a very kid-friendly version of mac’n’cheese, green beans and applesauce.
As expected, Heather opted for the familiar, when it came time for her to choose.
“So how long are you going to be in Laramie?” Nicholas asked Mac as everyone spooned food onto their plates.
Mac spread his napkin on his lap. “Until I get approval from the county for a wind farm—and a ranch to put it on.”
“You do know,” Nicholas volunteered, “that we’re not running cattle here anymore.”
Erin gave him a cautioning glance.
“So I heard,” Mac said, taking the opening.
Nicholas looked at Erin, the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. “We might want to consider it.”
And, Erin reflected silently, we might not. The last thing she needed was any connection at all to a man who was already on his way out of her life. Or would be, once his job here in Laramie County was done.
Nicholas’s
