The Texas Rancher's Family

But before she could formulate a reply, the bell jingled on the first floor and then the front door slammed. “Mom!” Sammy and Stevie yelled in unison.

Saved by her sons. Relieved, Erin flashed a pointed smile at Mac. “I’ve got to go.” She brushed past him and headed for the stairs.

He was right behind her. “We haven’t finished.”

“Oh, I think we have,” she said over her shoulder, as cheerfully determined as he was.

The bell jangled again.

The door opened just as Erin reached the main floor. A young girl with messy blond curls—and an ice-cream cone in her hand—charged in, sobbing, “Daddy!” A uniformed chauffeur trailed behind her.

At the sight of the hopelessly distraught child wailing for her father, Erin’s heart clenched in a way it hadn’t in a good long while. Suddenly, it was all she could do not to burst into tears herself.

“Daddy!” the little girl yelled again, tears of indignation streaming down her face as the cone she was holding lost its top, and strawberry ice cream landed on the floor with a splat. “I’m tired of Texas!” The girl tossed the cone aside and stomped her foot. “I want to go home! Right now!”

* * *

TALK ABOUT BAD TIMING, Mac thought, while striding to the rescue.

“As you can see, despite your reassurances, this is not working,” the uniformed young woman told him with an indignant sniff. “I am a chauffeur, not a babysitter.”

No kidding. He should have followed his instincts and brought Heather into the store with him, despite the driver’s assurances it would be okay. He’d figured the appointment would take just twenty or thirty minutes, long enough for him to set up a meeting with the whole Monroe clan.

But that hadn’t happened, and now his little girl was in meltdown mode. Mac knelt and gathered his sobbing daughter into his arms. “Heather, honey, it’s all right....” he soothed, holding her close.

“Daddy, you said this would be fun!” she cried.

Aware they had the attention of everyone in the store, he patted her back. “I thought watching a movie and eating ice cream in the limo would be fun for you,” he said lamely.

Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but notice Erin observing from the sidelines with a strangely paralyzed look on her face.

“But I want you to stay with me!” Heather clung to him all the tighter, shifting his focus back to his weeping daughter.

He could hardly blame her for being upset. She’d had way too much change in her life in the past few days. What she needed was normalcy, stability. Not that he seemed able to give her that at the moment.

The two boys who’d entered the store edged closer to Erin, their eyes fixed on Heather. The younger one elbowed his mom. “What’s her problem?”

Heather turned to look at him. Her tears momentarily forgotten, she pushed away from Mac and demanded with equal curiosity, “Who’s he?”

From the sidelines, a group of cowboys looking over a display of Wranglers shifted uncomfortably.

Cringing, Mac couldn’t blame them. He hated emotional scenes, too.

Erin motioned for the salesclerk behind the counter to help the men. Her eyes glistening brightly, she stepped toward Mac and his little girl. “Hello, Heather,” she said with a smile. “My name is Erin and this is my son Sammy. He’s eight. This is my other son, Stevie. He’s ten. How old are you?”

Heather sniffed, her misery fading fast. “I’m six.”

“We have a toy corner in the back of the store. Would you like to see it?”

Heather looked at Mac. “Can I, Daddy?”

He released her. “Sure.”

“Come on. We’ll show you,” Sammy said, reaching out and taking her hand.

Stevie fell into step beside them. “Mom, is it okay if we get our after-school snack?”

Erin blinked. For a moment there she’d been a million miles away, lost in her own thoughts as her sons quickly bonded with the little girl.

“Sure,” Mac said again, when she looked at him for permission.

“You can have a snack,” Erin told her boys, “but share whatever you get with Heather, too.”

“Okay, Mom.”

The children strode off, still hand in hand.

Although Mac couldn’t help but wonder about the emotional expression that had flitted over Erin’s face, he turned his attention to the mess his daughter had made. “Do you have anything I can clean this up with?” he asked.

Erin glanced at the strawberry ice cream puddled on the floor. “Don’t worry about it.” She pivoted and went to the counter, returning with a roll of paper towels and a bottle of cleaner. Mac couldn’t help noticing how her hips swayed beneath her nicely fitted jeans, or the way her calico print shirt clung to her breasts as she knelt down.

Desire sifted through him, so fierce and unexpected it took him a minute to access some working brain cells. His body tightening with a demand that hadn’t been met in way too long, he hunkered down beside her and caught her hand. “Let me do that.”

Silky skin heated beneath his fingertips as she sucked in a startled breath. Their glances met as she studied him with big green eyes.

Damn, but she was pretty, Mac noted, despite his attempt to keep his interactions with her businesslike. She was feminine everywhere she should be. Delicate features, a heart-shaped face and upswept honey-blond curls only added to her womanly allure.

She was obviously successful—which he liked. Stubborn—which was probably going to make her harder to persuade. But persuade he would, Mac vowed. “I’ll clean this up.”

Her teeth raked across her soft, plump lower lip. “You really don’t have to do that.”

He gave her his most persuasive smile. “I insist.”

The truth was, he wanted to do something else entirely with her.

But that wouldn’t help him fulfill his agenda. And he’d do well to remember the real reason he was here....

Flustered, Erin handed him the necessary supplies and gave him room to work.

Not long after he had finished, the door jangled again. A group of ladies strolled in, followed by Erin’s brother.

“Sorry I’m late, sis. I—” Nicholas stopped dead at the sight of Mac. “I thought you weren’t coming till later.”

Erin filled him in, “He switched appointments with Darcy, so I took his measurements for the last.”

“What about the rest of the ordering process?” the teen asked.

“I’m going to do that later,” Mac promised.