glanced up, that soft mouth parting on a swift intake of air. “Thank you.”
He led her down the stairs and up the stone path to the driveway then across the grounds. She kept pace with him, listening and watching carefully as he pointed out the various sections of the lodge. Nadine and Maddie fell behind. They stopped by what he assumed was Dani’s pitiful-looking car then circled it, cupping their hands and peering into the windows.
“Girls.”
They jumped back from the car then scrambled over to his side.
Hiding a smile, he pointed at a large structure adjoining the back of the lodge. “That’s the banquet hall. There’s enough room for a hundred people or so but we don’t use it very often because...” He shrugged, glancing over his shoulders at the empty fields and walkways. “I don’t have as many guests as I’d like right now. But if things turn around like I hope, we’ll be using it pretty regular.” He shook his head. “I’d offer you a waitress or receptionist position but we don’t need extra help in those areas.”
“I didn’t apply for a waitress or receptionist position.” A hint of ice cooled the warm depths of her eyes and hardened her soft tone. “I’m here to work the grounds.”
Nodding, he rolled his shoulders then motioned toward the graveled path behind them. “Then let’s get moving.”
The rocks crunched under his boots and the familiar sounds of the valley rushed in, filling his veins with excitement and lifting his chest with pride. He studied her face and noted the appreciative gleam in her expression.
“This land’s been in my family for generations.” He swept an arm toward the green fields, wooded landscape and hazy mountains in the distance. “We’ve got over thirty-six acres, twenty cabins and forty horses. There are hiking and horseback-riding trails. My lead hands are Tim Barnes and Cal McCoy. Tim leads two hiking groups each day and Cal heads up the riding excursions. They’re working on the fence at the entrance. I assume you met them on the way in?” She nodded jerkily and he stopped, gesturing toward the log building in front of them. “There’s the bunkhouse.”
Dani adjusted her grip on her bag, her slim fingers tightening around it as she studied the bunkhouse.
“That’s where the ranch hands stay,” Nadine said, grabbing at Dani’s bag. “You want me to help you put your stuff up?”
“No, Nadine.” Mac gently brushed her hands aside. “I don’t think Ms. Dani would like it there.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to stay in the bunkhouse with the men? I think there’s an empty bunk below Cal’s.”
Her cheeks reddened. “No, thank you.” She bit her lip. “Is there another option?”
His smile widened. “Yep. That is, if I decide to hire you. I haven’t said one way or the other yet.”
Her pretty blush deepened and Mac moved further up the winding path through a cluster of cedar trees to a cabin. The weathered wood and sun-bleached porch rails were littered with leaves.
He grimaced. “Looks worse than it is. I haven’t had time to restore the exterior but I cleaned up inside last week.” The porch steps creaked as he ascended them. “There’s one bedroom, one bathroom and a small kitchen and den.”
“I’m not picky.” The sweet sound of her voice sent thrills up his spine. “But won’t you need this for guests?”
He glanced over his shoulder. She stood on the second step, Nadine and Maddie close at her side, and stared up at him.
His jaw clenched. “Not until the lodge fills ups. And that hasn’t happened, yet.” He opened the door then crossed the threshold. “Come on in.”
A flurry of movement from the other side of the room caught his eye. Two legs and a muddy pair of boots darted behind the worn couch in the center of the den. Streaks of mud and clumps of dirt dulled the shine he’d spent hours buffing into the ancient hardwood floor just days ago.
Irritation sparked in his gut. “Jaxon.” He bit his tongue, trying to soften the hard edge of his tone. “Get your tail out here.”
Grubby fingers gripped the back of the couch then brown hair and green eyes rose above them.
“What are you doing in here? I asked you to stay in the game room with your sisters.” Mac stiffened, Dani’s light tread approaching behind him. He motioned toward the eyes peeping over the couch. “Dani, this is my son, Jaxon.”
Jaxon stood then rounded the couch, his arms behind his back and his ten-year-old frame stiff. He studied Dani, the shaggy ends of his brown hair falling forward, brushing his eyebrows. The strands were the same shade as his mother’s.
A stabbing pain shot thorough Mac. He hunched his shoulders and motioned toward Jaxon’s obscured arms. “What have you got there?”
Jaxon scowled. “You said you were gonna take the day off and play baseball with me. I’m tired of babysitting.”
Mac sighed. So was Ann. But he couldn’t afford to hire a babysitter on a permanent basis. Or take a day off work like he’d planned. Not if he expected to hold on to this place. “I just asked you to stay put for an hour—not babysit.”
“We ain’t babies,” Nadine said.
“Yeah,” Maddie added.
“Aw, hush up.” Jaxon’s eyes flashed. “No one asked you two.”
“That’s enough. All of you.” Mac dragged a hand over the back of his neck, the weight of Dani’s stare heating his face. “It took me hours to clean this place up, Jaxon. You’re going to spend the afternoon scrubbing this floor. Now, show me what you’ve got behind your back because I swear, if you’ve gotten into Tim’s tools again—”
“I ain’t got any tools.” Jaxon stalked over and thrust a bundle against Mac’s gut. “You promised you were gonna play ball with me.”
Mac looked down, catching the baseball glove before it fell. Deep croaks, muffled by the mitt, vibrated the material against his hand. He unfolded it and a muddy bullfrog sprang from the center then plopped onto the floor.
Maddie squealed and hid her face against the back of his thigh. “Ew.”
“Cool.” Nadine chased it through the door and down the front steps.
Something else was lodged in the top portion of the mitt. Mac thumbed smudges of mud away from the paper-thin item, revealing a familiar smile. His throat thickened as he studied the well-worn photo of his late wife. The shape of Nicole’s eyes and nose were exact replicas of Jaxon’s.
“You promised.”
Mac blinked hard and glanced up.
Jaxon glared at him but his chin trembled and his eyes glistened.
Gut churning, Mac said gently, “I’m sorry, Jaxon. I’ll make it up to you. I promise—”
“Yeah, right.” Jaxon snatched the glove back, shoved past him and stomped out of the cabin.
“Why’s he
