Beneath the Texas Moon

Eve smiled. She wished she’d had such a relationship with her husband. But he’d been more interested in himself and his dogs than her and Joey.

“I take it you’re not on the market?” Laura asked Eve. “Officially or unofficially?”

Eve blushed. “Unofficially. I’m not interested in dating right now.”

“What a shame. And I’d hoped to convince you otherwise.” Warm hands gripped her shoulders to turn her around.

Eve stared up into Clint Logan’s blue-gray eyes. “Like I said, I’m not interested.”

“I can be very persuasive. Am I right?” He winked at Addie.

Eve shook her head. “I have Joey to consider.”

“And why would your dating be a problem for Joey?” Clint asked.

“I’m not in the marriage market and I won’t force a stepfather on Joey,” she said.

Addie tipped her head to the side. “Don’t you think a boy needs a man in his life?”

Years of heartache surfaced, blocking Eve’s throat. All the times she’d tried to do just as her stepfather wanted in order to gain his respect and love. As she had in the past, she swallowed her disappointment. “Not always. Depends on the man.”

Joey jumped up from the floor and raced past Eve.

“Hi, Joey, whatcha’ got?” Deep tones rumbled immediately behind her.

Tingly surges raced across her nerve endings. That voice could only belong to Mac.

Eve turned as Joey launched himself into Mac’s arms and waved his rock beneath the cowboy’s nose. The two looked as though they belonged together, like father and son. How she wished Joey could have had a father like Mac. But Mac could never be his father; the best he could be was a stepfather. And Eve wasn’t going there.

“I don’t see anything wrong with a son being raised by his mother.” Clint stepped closer to Eve and laid a hand on her shoulder. “A mother loves and protects her children. She stands by them and defends them no matter what.”

Mac’s head jerked up at the words. His jaw tightened and his brows dipped slightly.

“Did I say something wrong?” Clint shrugged his shoulders.

But Mac only stared hard into Clint’s eyes and then broke the visual contact to look down at Joey. “I like your rock, Joey. Keep your eyes open, and you’ll find lots of sea fossils in the hill country.” Mac set the child on his feet, tipped his hat at Addie and strode over to a group of men.

Addie shook her head at Clint. “Wish you hadn’t said that to Mac.”

“Am I missing something?” The mayor gazed after Mac, an apologetic frown creasing his brows.

“No. You’re not missing anything. Why don’t you go do your politicking with the ranchers?” Addie pushed Clint away from the little group. “Go on, shoo!”

“Okay,” he said, moving away. He glanced back at Eve and smiled. “But I still want to take you to dinner, Eve.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m—”

“I know. Not interested.” Clint nodded. “I’m patient, I can wait.”

MAC HALF LISTENED to the local ranchers and businessmen discussing plans for the Harvest Festival. He’d never been one to join in the planning, choosing to help out when the time came to build booths and make repairs to the community building where the dance would be held.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Eve smiling and talking with Tom and Laura. Her laughter floated to him, hitting him in the gut. Mac turned away before he started thinking of something as ridiculous as white picket fences and a yard filled with children remarkably similar to Joey.

When talk about the festival tapered off, Mac brought up the topic he’d come here to discuss in the first place. “I found one of our breeder goats just over the hill from town.” Everyone within hearing distance turned toward him. “Wasn’t much left for the buzzards.”

“That’s too bad, Mac.” Bernie Odom looked up from playing checkers with Hank Bleumfeld. “Have anything to do with the drought?” he asked.

“No.” Mac glanced down at his hat and back up to Bernie. “Looked like an animal attack.”

“Any idea what?” Sheriff Hodges twirled an unlit cigarette in his fingers but didn’t light up. He’d told Mac he was in the second week of his campaign to quit smoking after thirty years in the habit. “We’ve had several reports come in about missing animals in the area. Might be a pattern.”

Mac shook his head. “Too dry for tracks. But whatever it was had to be big enough to take down a goat weighing more than a hundred pounds.”

“I’m missing a lamb, haven’t seen her since the day before yesterday,” Tom said. “Thought maybe its mother wasn’t feeding and left it laying somewhere out in the brush. I looked, but didn’t find a carcass. Not even any buzzards.”

“I lost a calf last week,” Bernie Odom said. “I found it, but the buzzards had taken care of the remains. Didn’t think much of it at the time. You tend to lose the small ones for one reason or another. Especially as dry as it is out here. But a breeder is an entirely different story.”

“Kinda reminds me of way back when we had the big drought some thirty years ago. Animals kept disappearing all mysterious like,” Bernie mused. “Think it ended up being a wolf. Isn’t that right, Hank?”

Hank’s hand hesitated over a game piece, and he glanced over at Art Nantan, the feed-store owner. “That’s right. Got quite a few lambs, goats and a couple calves.”

“Took one of my prize Merino lambs that year my breeder came in first at the state fair,” Art said and shrugged. “Happens when you’re in ranching. Thank God I’m not ranching anymore.”

“Nor are a lot of us,” Jack Adams grumbled. “If it weren’t for droughts and the animals dying, the big farming and ranching conglomerates were going to put us out of business eventually. Sure miss the old place, though.”

“What are you complaining about?” Art asked. “You telling me you don’t want to work at the feed store?”

“No, no,” Jack said. “You know I appreciate havin’ the work. I just hated losing land that had been in my family for a century.”

“Probably better off. Those of us who’ve managed to hold out are barely makin’ ends meet.” Hank scratched his head and shrugged. “The drought ain’t helpin’, and if there’s something out there pickin’ off the livestock, won’t be a lot to show at the market next year.”

“Yeah. Guess I’ll have to bring in the lambs and goat kids at night,” Tom said.

“You gonna bring in the breeders, too?” Bernie pulled a round can from his back pocket, pinched a wad of tobacco and shoved it just inside his mouth between his bottom teeth and gums. When he’d pushed it into place, he spoke over the lump behind his lip. “Can’t figure. Haven’t seen wolves in these parts since that last time. Maybe it’s just a coyote.”

“Maybe. Wolves don’t normally come this far south.” Hank studied the game board. “You gonna play or flap your gums?”

Ignoring his partner, Bernie nodded toward Mac. “That last time was bad because Jenny McGuire was attacked by the critter. That’s how come we know’d it was a wolf.”

Mac’s stomach tightened. He didn’t want to hear the story he’d heard all his life. It always ended the same.

“She’d been Homecoming Queen the year she graduated high school. I remember. I was captain of the football team, so I got to escort her down the aisle at the coronation.” Sheriff Hodges stared at a corner of the room as if seeing into the past. “She was the most beautiful girl in the county, with all that long, black hair and those blue eyes. A guy could see all the way to China in ’em.”

“She was a pretty little thang, until that wolf got hold of her,” Bernie said, concentrating on the checkers.

Mac almost turned to leave when he noticed that Eve, Laura and Addie had joined the group.

“She never was the same after that.” Bernie chewed on his tobacco. “Left town a few months later. Mac was too young to remember most of it. Ain’t that right, Mac?”