Beneath the Texas Moon

“That’s me.” Eve returned his smile.

“Hi, I’m Clint Logan, mayor of Spirit Canyon.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to our little town.”

Eve shifted Joey onto one arm and reached out to shake the mayor’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Clint enveloped her hand in both of his and squeezed, holding on longer than necessary for a simple handshake.

Eve shrugged it off as the typical politician. When he finally let go, she rubbed her hand down the side of her jeans and stepped back, inserting a little distance.

With his cheek pressed against her neck, Joey clutched the front of her shirt.

“As the mayor, I like to welcome new members of our community. I make it a habit to get to know all my constituents on a personal basis.”

Eve’s mouth quirked up on one side. “In a town the size of Spirit Canyon, that can’t be too hard.”

“True.” Clint chuckled. “I hear you’re helping with the Harvest Festival preparations. Did Addie strong-arm you into it?”

Defensive of her new friend, Eve hurried to reassure him, “No, no. I’m looking forward to helping. Addie said it would be an opportunity to meet some of the other people in the county.”

“I’m sure a pretty lady like you won’t have any problems meeting people. Folks love newcomers. Shoot, they welcomed me with open arms not five years ago, fresh out of law school.”

“So, you’re not a native of Spirit Canyon?” Eve asked.

“No, unfortunately. I’m from farther south, down by the border, outside Laredo.”

“That’s very impressive to be elected mayor after living here only five years.”

“I think I got voted in because no one else wanted the job,” he said with a wry grin.

Eve smiled. Clint was charming and good to look at. A very polished businessman. Quite a contrast to Mac McGuire.

“What are your plans, now that you’re here?” he asked her. “Do you need a job?”

“No.” She waved a hand toward the two-story house with the sagging porch. “I’m hoping to turn the old house into a bed and breakfast.”

“That’s wonderful.” Clint clapped his hands together. “The town could use a new bed and breakfast. Why don’t we discuss your business plans over dinner? Perhaps I can give you some pointers, maybe even some legal advice on how to get started.”

Eve hadn’t expected a dinner invitation and she stammered a reply, “Thanks, b-but, I can’t.”

“Can’t?” Clint’s eyebrows rose.

Eve hurried to clarify her refusal. “I have so much to do to get the house in order so that I can open by Christmas.”

“Surely you can spare some time to eat a bite?”

“Maybe another time.” She wasn’t sure she really meant it, but at least it bought her time to think about his offer. She could use the legal advice, but she’d rather not be in a one-on-one situation with a man.

Then why did her mind instantly recall that little intimate jolt of electricity she’d experienced the day before with Mac? She shook aside the memory and smiled at the mayor. “Thanks, anyway.”

“If you decide differently, I’m in the office building two doors down from the General Store.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said aloud. And avoid it, she added silently. Now was not the time to complicate her life.

Clint smiled again, climbed into his Lexus and rolled the window down. “Nice to meet you, Eve.”

“Uh, Mayor Logan?” She walked toward his car.

“Ma’am?”

“Are wolves native to this part of Texas?”

His brows rose and he tipped his head to the side. “We don’t get a whole lot of them this far south. We have been known to have coyotes around here, though. Why?”

“Just curious. What with all the problems the ranchers are having.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re in town. Most animals won’t come near a town. Now, if there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks.” Eve forced a smile and waved. Clint’s answer to her question hadn’t made her any less nervous. With Mac telling her to keep an eye out and Clint saying not to worry, she leaned toward the more cautious advice. That creepy howl still plagued her memory. She’d sure like to know what it was.

THE STEADY CLIP-CLOP of horses’ hooves provided background noise in an otherwise still environment. Mac and Daniel had ridden over two hours, combing the four-hundred-acre ranch and finding nothing. They’d started by heading east away from town, dodging through brush, scrub cedar and live oaks. Molly had padded alongside Mac the entire way, keeping the pace set by the horses.

When the eastern side of the property hadn’t turned up a goat or a rift in the fence, they headed west.

Each time the horses’ hooves touched the ground, dust rose like a puff of smoke. A whirling gust of wind lifted the powdery soil and twisted it around the horse and rider, reminding Mac of another sandy day back in Iraq.

They’d been hunting the men responsible for the attacks on occupying American troops.

Mac inhaled deeply. The dust stung his lungs, but not like it had in Iraq. Too many times he had to inform himself he was in Texas. He was home. Thank God for Daniel. The only family Mac had left.

When he’d joined the Army, he’d found a family in his troops. Only to have them ripped away in an ambush. The same ambush in which he was hit in the leg and the forehead, knocked out cold and left to die. But fate had played a cruel trick. He’d woken up just as another convoy of American troops happened on the ambushed soldiers. As the soul survivor, he was destined to watch the cleanup of the dead young men—his men—who were little more than children themselves.

The medics had doped him up with painkillers and packed him off to a medical staging facility. They’d evacuated him from the country without giving him a choice. He’d wanted to stay and continue the fight.

At the Fort Bragg hospital, the doctors told him his knee was wrecked from the shrapnel. He’d never see battle again.

Several months had passed since he’d come home to the ranch, but Mac’s memories were no less vivid.

Clouds hung low, pregnant with rain, yet holding back as if waiting for a signal from God to let loose. Mac was glad the rain held off. Two hours in the saddle was hard enough without the added aggravation of sliding in mud. He had a nervous feeling that had nothing to do with being on horseback for so long.

The feeling had a hell of a lot to do with one red-haired, green-eyed woman on the other side of the ridge in front of him.

His land bordered the edge of town. The last house on Main Street, Eve’s house, was located next to the property line. He couldn’t see it from where he rode, but he knew it was there. Eve and Joey were probably at home.

Mac and Daniel had ridden separately, but within shouting distance, for most of the search. As Mac neared the hill blocking his view of Spirit Canyon, Daniel joined him.

“Anything?” Daniel asked, reining in his horse beside Mac’s.

“No.” Mac scanned the countryside around them, searching the brown and green brush for the white goat.