Beneath The Texas Moon. Elle James

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dropped his hand.

      Mac shifted his hat to his other hand. Besides the slight narrowing of his eyes, he didn’t display any other indication that her reaction fazed him.

      Eve stared around the room grasping for something to say, coming up with a blank. Then a gentle tug on her jacket changed her focus.

      MAC GAZED DOWN at the little boy, whose fingers snuck into the hand of the auburn-haired woman. Eve. A woman with troubled green eyes.

      With the same colored hair, the boy had to be hers. A sharp stab of disappointment raced through Mac until he noticed her naked left hand. She had a child, but no ring. Interesting.

      The woman glanced down at the top of the little boy’s head, brushed a hand through his hair and smiled. “Mr. McGuire, this is my son, Joey. Joey, say hello to Mr. McGuire.”

      Joey shook his head and buried his face against her legs.

      Mac squatted next to Joey and spoke in a quiet tone. “Hi, Joey. Nice to meet you. You can call me Mac.”

      Joey peeked around his mother’s leg and his eyes widened, his gaze zeroing in on Mac’s scar. The boy moved toward him, instead of shrinking in fear. As one hand loosened its grip on Eve’s jeans, he reached out to touch the mark on Mac’s forehead.

      Mac resisted the urge to flinch, holding steady while the little guy leaned toward him. When Joey’s face cleared the fabric of Eve’s jeans, it was Mac’s turn to be startled. The child had a matching scar on the same side of his forehead.

      A flash of memory assaulted Mac. Young men under his command moving through the darkened streets of Fallujah. Mac closed his eyes, shutting out what had come next. When he opened them, Joey was staring at him as if he could see what Mac had seen. Mac frowned. What would a child know about the terrors of war?

      While Joey ran his fingers over Mac’s scar, Mac touched a finger to Joey’s. “I see we have something in common.”

      He and the little boy had more scars in common than just the visible ones. By the serious look on Joey’s face and the dark circles beneath his eyes, Mac knew the child had suffered.

      With a grave but gentle nod to the boy, Mac straightened and looked at Joey’s mother, noting the worry in her eyes. A long silence stretched between them. He sensed she was sizing him up while he did the same.

      “Eve’s looking for someone to help renovate the old Felton house.” Addie sliced through the tension with her cheerful tone. “How about it, Mac? Could you spare time away from the ranch?”

      Mac shifted the hat in his hand, staring at the broad brim. He had enough ghosts to chase without taking on more. What good would he be around this woman and her child who looked like they had their own problems to overcome?

      With “no” poised on his lips, he looked up, his gaze meeting Eve’s.

      Her expression was wary and she hurried to say, “Oh, please, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll find someone.”

      Although he’d been prepared to tell her he couldn’t help, her quick rejection struck him in the gut. “Daniel and I could help her.” Mac jammed his hat on his head. “He’d appreciate the break from ranch work.”

      “Great idea.” Addie turned to Eve with a wink. “His foreman, Daniel, is so good with his hands. I swear he’s renovated practically every house in the county at some time in the past forty years. He’d make a lot more money if he’d move to a bigger city. Not that I want him to leave. Just seems a waste.”

      “He claims he doesn’t want to leave the ranch,” Mac said. “And I couldn’t function without him.”

      Addie sighed. “What’s he gonna do when he runs out of houses to fix up around here?”

      “Don’t know. I guess he’ll figure it out,” Mac said. “Can I get some shotgun shells?”

      Addie turned to a shelf behind the counter, calling over her shoulder, “What size?”

      “30.06” he said.

      “Ain’t huntin’ season.” Addie placed the box of shells on the counter. “Got varmints? Huckabee and Leider said they’ve been losing some of their young livestock lately. Think there might be a coyote or something pickin’ ’em off. Funny thing is they ain’t finding the carcasses.”

      “Yeah. I heard.”

      Eve’s brows furrowed. “Should I be worried about…” She nodded toward Joey.

      “Since we don’t know what’s doing it, I’d say it doesn’t hurt to keep an eye on him.” Mac stared down at the little boy who stared back at him, his look guarded.

      “I will.” Eve scooped Joey’s hand into hers. “Well, I have a lot to do before bed tonight. I better get to it. Addie, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Eve waved and tugged Joey toward the door.

      As the woman and the little boy walked away, Mac noted the view and couldn’t help his instinctive tightening in reaction to a beautiful woman.

      Before the door closed behind them, Addie cleared her throat. “Do you want these shells or not?”

      “Huh?” Mac shook his head and dragged his gaze back to Addie. “Oh, yeah.”

      “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Addie said, ringing up the purchase. “She and that little boy have been through some hard times.”

      When he handed her a twenty, he couldn’t help asking, “What happened?”

      Addie shook her head and sighed. “Little Joey and Eve’s ex-husband were mauled by a dog. That little boy watched the dog kill his dad.”

      Mac turned back toward the door as if he could still see the little boy. He knew the pain of watching the people you cared about die. Worse, the guilt of being the only one who survived.

      Mac shook his head and tried to imagine what Joey had gone through watching his father be killed by a dog.

      Dog.

      Mac dropped the shells on the counter and raced for the door.

      “What’s wrong, Mac?” Addie asked.

      Just as he grabbed the handle of the door, an earsplitting scream rent the air.

      Too late.

      Without slowing his pace, Mac flew through the door and toward the cries. After rounding the side of his pickup, he ground to a halt. His forty-pound Australian shepherd, Molly, lay on the ground with her chin touching the pavement, a worried expression on her wolfish face.

      Standing between the dog and her SUV, Eve clutched Joey to her chest. The boy’s body shook with the force of his screams.

      Mac rounded the vehicles, scooped Molly into his arms, jerked open the door of his truck and deposited her onto the floorboard. He pointed a finger at her and ordered, “Stay!”

      After shutting the door, he turned back to Eve and Joey, his heart

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