A Texan on Her Doorstep

He lifted his hat from his head and pushed a hand through his hair. It was thick, the color of a dark coffee bean and waved loosely against his head. The shine of it spoke of good health, but Ileana wasn’t looking at him as a doctor. No, for the first time in years she was looking at a man as a woman, and the realization shook her even more than his strange story.

He released a heavy breath, then said, “I wasn’t expecting to run into this sort of roadblock—I mean, with Frankie being ill. I’m sure you’re thinking I should have called first. But this…well, it’s not something you can just blurt out over the phone. Besides, if I’d alerted her I was coming, she might have been…conveniently away.”

Ileana didn’t bother to hide her frown. “Not for a minute. Frankie isn’t that sort of woman.”

He looked at her. “Do you know what kind of woman she was thirty years ago?”

The question wasn’t sharp, but there was an intensity to his voice that caused her cheeks to warm. Or was it just the husky note in his drawl that was making her feel all hot and shivery at the same time? Either way, she had to get a grip on herself and figure out how best to handle this man. If that was possible.

“No. But I hardly think a person’s moral values could change that much.”

Mac McCleod rose to his feet. “A person can change overnight, Doctor. You know that as well as I.”

Not the human heart, she wanted to tell him. But singing Frankie’s praises to this man wouldn’t help matters at the moment. She wasn’t sure what would help this cowboy or how to provide it—other than to let him see Frankie, which at this point was out of the question. If this man was Frankie’s son, the shock of seeing him might send her patient into cardiac arrest.

Rising to her feet, she said, “What are your plans? Do you have a place to stay?”

As soon as the questions slipped past her lips, she realized they were probably too personal. Yet she was moved by his plight.

“I have a room rented at a hotel here in town.” His dark gaze landed smack on her face. “The rest depends on you.”

The man would be leaving the hospital in a few minutes. Her heartbeat should have been returning to its normal pace; instead it was laboring as though she was climbing nearby Sierra Blanca.

“I’m not sure I understand, Mr. McCleod.”

A grin suddenly dimpled his cheeks, and she felt like an idiot as her breath caught in her throat.

“I have a feeling we’re going to get to know one another very well, Doc. You might as well start calling me Mac.”

Ileana cleared her throat. “All right—Mac. Why do your plans depend on me?”

He folded his arms against his chest as his gaze lazily inspected her. For the first time in years, Ileana was horribly aware of her bare face, the homeliness of her plain appearance.

“I can’t leave town until I see Ms. Cantrell, and right now it looks as though you’re calling the shots as to when that might be,” he said.

Ileana not only felt like an idiot but she needed to add imbecile to the self-description. Normally, her mind was sharp, but this man seemed to be turning her brain to useless gray pudding.

“Oh—uh—yes.” Hating herself for getting so flustered, she threw her attention into digging a prescription pad and pen from her lab coat pocket. “Do you have a phone number you can give me? Just in case Ms. Cantrell’s condition changes.”

He gave his cell phone number to her, then asked, “Are you expecting her to improve in the next day or two—at least, enough for visitors?”

As Ileana folded the piece of paper with the phone number, she carefully chose her words. “Honestly, no. And that’s if no complications pop up.”

“You do expect her to survive, don’t you?”

There was a real look of concern on his face, and Ileana tried to imagine what he must be going through at this moment. He’d traveled hundreds of miles to search for a woman who might be his mother, only to find her desperately ill.

She reached across the small space separating them and folded her hand around his. “I’m doing all I can to make sure she does.”

Was it surprise or confusion she saw flickering in his brown eyes before he glanced away? Either way she could see he wasn’t nearly as cool as he wanted her to believe. The idea drew him to her just that much more. She knew what it was like to try to hide her emotions, to not allow people to see that she was hurting or troubled.

“Thank you for giving me your time,” he murmured. “I’ll be checking back with you.”

Dropping her hand, she stepped back. “You’re very welcome.”

“Goodbye, Ms. Sanders.”

He cast her one last look, then turned and strode quickly toward an exit that would take him to the parking lot.

As Ileana watched him walk away, she wondered why he’d called her Ms. Sanders. Everyone, even those who had known her for years, didn’t think of her as a woman. She was Doc or Doctor. A physician and nothing more.

“Who was that?”

At the sound of Renae’s voice, Ileana turned her head to see the nurse had walked up beside her. Both women continued to watch Mac McCleod as he disappeared through the revolving door.

Ileana bit back a sigh. “That was trouble. A big dose of it.”

Chapter Two

“Ripp, I must have been crazy when I told you to stay home and let me come out here,” Mac said into the cell phone. “Nothing is going right.”

Two hours had passed since Mac left the hospital, and during that time, he’d continually tried to call his brother back in Texas. But Ripp, and the majority of the sheriff’s department, had been on a manhunt most of the evening for a hit-and-run driver. Subsequently, Ripp had just now found time to return his call.

“What do you mean?” Ripp asked. “Did you find the ranch okay?”

“I did,” Mac answered as he sat on the side of the hotel bed, his elbows resting on his knees. “A maid was the only person I talked to. She informed me that Ms. Cantrell was in the hospital in Ruidoso.”

“Hospital?”

The shock in Ripp’s voice mirrored Mac’s feelings. That Frankie might be in ill health or dead was something that neither brother had really wanted to consider. After all, if this Frankie were really their mother, she would only be about sixty years old. But a relatively young age didn’t always equal good health.

“Yeah. I drove back to Ruidoso and went to the hospital thinking I could talk to her there. No such luck. Her doctor says she’s too ill to see me.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“The doctor wouldn’t tell me much. I was so damned aggravated at the moment that I can’t remember everything she said regarding Frankie’s health.”

“She?”

“Frankie’s doctor. It’s a woman. And from what she told me, her family and the Cantrells have been friends for years. She—uh—told me that Frankie has a son and daughter. Quint and Alexa, I think she called them.”

“Oh.” Several long moments passed as Ripp digested this news, and then he finally asked, “Did this doctor know anything about Frankie’s past?”

Ripp’s question caused the image of Dr. Sanders to parade to the front of Mac’s mind. She’d been as plain as white flour. The type of woman he normally wouldn’t glance at twice. Yet her gentleness had touched him in a way that had been totally unexpected.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I asked. She doesn’t know anything about it. From what she says, Frankie is a respected woman. That ought to tell you the doctor is in the dark.”

Ripp sighed. “We don’t really know what Frankie is, Mac. That’s why you’re there. To find out. So when did this doctor think you might be able to see Frankie?”

“Several days, at least.”

“Oh. Well, you might as well come home, Mac. There’s no use in you hanging around Ruidoso for that long. Or do you think you ought to see her children?”

“And say what?” Mac asked sarcastically. “Hi, y’ all, I’m your half brother?”

Ripp growled back at him. “What the hell is the matter with you, Mac? You’re nearly forty years old! It’s not like you’re that ten-year-old little boy, staring out the window with tears on your cheeks. We’re not going to let the woman keep hurting us, are we?”

Mac shoved out a heavy breath. His brother was right. He had to get a grip on his emotions and view this whole thing as a man, not that little boy who’d had his heart ripped out so long ago.

“I tell you, Ripp. The news that she had a son and daughter knocked my boots out from under me. I just never imagined her having other babies. Did you? I mean, if she didn’t want us, why the heck would she have had more children? Doesn’t make a lick of sense to me.”

“We don’t know that she didn’t want us, Mac. Dad told Rye that she wanted us.”

“Hell,” Mac muttered. “Rye was probably just trying to make you feel better. You’d been stabbed with a butcher knife at the time, remember? He probably thought you couldn’t handle any more pain.”

Ripp chuckled under his breath. “I can handle anything you can take and more, big brother.”

In spite of his frustration, a smile tugged at Mac’s lips. If anyone could make him forget his troubles, it was his brother. And even though they were sometimes as different as night and day, there was a bond between them tougher than barbed wire.

“Yeah, you probably can,” he told him as he glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. He was getting hungry. Besides that, the small hotel room was beginning to close in on him. “Look, Ripp, I’m gonna go out and find something to eat. It’s been a hell of a day, and I’m beat. I’ll call you tomorrow—after I find out more.”

“So you’re not coming home?”

“No way. I’ve started on this journey and I don’t mean to cut it short. I’m going to camp in the hospital until Dr. Sanders gets her belly full of me. She’ll have to give in sooner or later.”

“Poor woman. She’s not going to know what hit her,” Ripp murmured more to himself than to Mac. “Just try to be your charming self, Mac. We don’t want anyone out there thinking we’re a pair of arrogant Texans.”

Mac chuckled. “Why not—we are, aren’t we?”

“Go eat. I’ve got to go help Lucita. Elizabeth is having a squalling fit about something. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

His brother cut the call, and Mac closed the instrument in his hand. Ripp had a beautiful wife, a twelve-year-old son and a baby daughter. His family adored him. He had something to live for, something to come home to at night. He was blessed. And Mac was happy for him.

Yet there were times that Mac looked at his brother and wondered what it would feel like to have those same things. Oh, yeah, he’d had a wife once. But Brenna hadn’t been a wife in the real sense of the word. She’d been more like a permanent date. Someone to go out with for a night of fun. Someone to have sex with. Giving him children had not been in her plans. And giving him love, the sort that came from deep within a person, was something she’d been incapable of. But then, Mac couldn’t put all the blame on Brenna for their failed marriage. At first he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted—a party girl. And for a while he’d been perfectly content with their life together. Then as time went by, the partying had begun to wear thin, and his life and marriage started to look more and more shallow. He’d begun to yearn for something more lasting and meaningful. Like raising kids in a real home. Brenna hadn’t married him under those terms, and when he’d asked her to change, she’d laughed all the way to the office of a divorce lawyer.

Now, after that humiliating lesson, he felt like a fool for ever thinking a good timin’ guy like him had once dreamed he could be a father to a house full of kids. Now he told himself it was better to simply enjoy women on brief, but frequent, occasions and forget about ever having a family.

Several miles east of Ruidoso, smack in the middle of the Hondo Valley, Ileana shifted down her pickup truck as it rattled across the low wooden bridge that crossed the Hondo River. The truck was old, and the speedometer had rolled over so many times that she’d lost count. For the past two years her father, Wyatt, had pestered her to buy a new one. After all, she had heaps of money and not a lot to do with it.

But Ileana didn’t want a new truck. What would be the use of shaking it over a dirt road every day? she’d argued. Besides, why did she need a new vehicle when the only place she ever went was to work and back home? She was a practical person, and when something worked as it should, she didn’t see any point in changing it.

Across the river, the dirt road made a gradual climb into open meadows dotted with ponderosa and piñon pine. On either side of the road, cattle and horses stood at hay mangers, chomping alfalfa in the falling twilight of a late February day.

The Bar M Ranch had been Ileana’s home for all her life and her mother’s before that. Her grandfather, Tomas Murdock, had built the place from the ground up and turned it into one of the most profitable ranches in southern New Mexico.

But the Bar M hadn’t been her grandfather’s only interest. He’d been a gambler and a bit of a womanizer, the result of which had produced illegitimate twins. The babies had been left on the doorstep of the Bar M Ranch house, and for weeks no one had known who’d parented them. It had been a shocking event that had rocked all of Lincoln County.

So Ileana wasn’t a stranger to odd stories, and the one that Mac McCleod had told her this evening—well, it sounded like more than an odd circumstance to her. Could he possibly be a son from Frankie’s past life? And if he hung around like he’d promised, how would the woman react to seeing him again?

The questions had been stewing in Ileana’s head ever since Mac had left the hospital, and now she decided she couldn’t go home to her little place on the mountain until she stopped by the main ranch house and had a talk with her mother. If anyone might know about Frankie’s past, it would be Chloe.

Five minutes later, she parked the truck behind the pink stucco hacienda and entered a gate that opened to a center courtyard. In the summer months, her parents were always having barbecues and other parties. Her brother, Adam, and his wife, Maureen, often brought their family to join in the fun. So did her sister, Anna, and her husband, Miguel. Even Ileana’s aunts, Justine and Rose, made frequent trips to the Bar M with their grand-children. The crowd of family and friends made the oval swimming pool and courtyard a lively place. But this evening, a cold wind was whipping through the bare garden and ruffling the plastic cover over the pool. The lawn chairs were stacked beneath the covered ground-level porch that followed the square shape of the house.

When Ileana stepped inside the kitchen, she found Cesar, her mother’s longtime cook, laying out plates and silverware on a round pine table.

The old cowboy looked up and smiled as he spotted Ileana. “Good evenin’, Doc. You stayin’ for supper?”

Ileana walked over to the tall, wiry man and kissed his leathery cheek. From the time Cesar had been fifteen years old, he’d worked on the Bar M. After forty years of dealing with fractious horses and several broken bones to show for it, Chloe had relegated him to the kitchen. Now after twenty years of stirring up ranch grub, he could safely be called a hell of a good cook.

“I hadn’t planned on it, Cesar, but if you have plenty, I will. Where’s Mother? Is she in from the barn yet?”

“She came in a few minutes ago. You might find her in the den.”

“Thanks,” Ileana told him, then quickly left the kitchen.

The den was quiet and so was the living room. Ileana eventually found Chloe in her bedroom changing into clean clothes.

“Hi, honey!” Chloe said with a bright smile. “You must have stopped by ‘cause you knew I’d be lonely tonight.”

Ileana sat down on a cedar chest positioned at the foot of a large, varnished pine bed. “Lonely? Isn’t Dad here?”

The petite woman finished the last button on her blouse and reached up to whip the towel off her wet hair. Chloe had been a horse lover since she was old enough to sit in the saddle, and she’d made a life breeding and training racing stock. The job was physically strenuous, and now that Chloe was sixty-two, Ileana was beginning to wonder how long she could keep up with the demands of the business. But though she might be small in stature, Chloe was an iron lady. Ileana figured, God willing, her mother would still be working up into her eighties.

“Sanders Gas Exploration has just purchased a competing company, and your father has gone to Oklahoma to tie up all the loose paperwork.”

Ileana was incredulous. At a time when her father should have been slowing down, he seemed to be going hell-bent for leather. “He’s expanding? Again? Mom, when are you two going to retire and travel the world?”

Chloe laughed as she briskly rubbed her short auburn hair. “Honey, don’t ever look for your parents to go galloping around the world for any length of time. Maybe a short vacation now and then. We have too much we want to do.”

“But it’s work,” Ileana complained.

Chloe settled a pointed look at her daughter. “And isn’t that what your life is all about?”

Ileana certainly couldn’t argue that point. Most every waking hour she spent at her private medical clinic or at the hospital. Even if she wasn’t a workaholic, traveling and socializing wasn’t her style.

“Okay. So I can’t make that argument. But as a doctor I can tell you to slow down.”

Chloe laughed. “And as your mother, I can tell you to quit being so fussy.” She hung the damp towel on a door hook and began to run a comb through her hair. “So are you going to have dinner with me tonight? Cesar has made goulash and corn bread. He knows I love goulash and your father hates it, so he makes it for me whenever Wyatt is gone.”

Chloe started toward the door, and Ileana slowly rose to her feet to follow her out of the bedroom. “I suppose I can stay long enough to eat, but then I’ve got to get home and go over several test results. I…actually, I stopped by to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Chloe tossed her a look of concern as the two of them walked along a hallway. “Has something happened? Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m tired. That’s the only thing wrong with me, and I’ll tell you all about it when we get to the kitchen.”

“You’ve intrigued me now,” Chloe said with a smile. Then with a happy groan, she reached over and curled her arm tightly around her daughter’s shoulders. “I love you, sweetie. I’m glad you stopped by. No matter what the reason.”

Her mother’s display of affection was as commonplace as breathing, but Ileana never took it for granted. She’d seen too much suffering in her life to know that there were plenty of unloved people in this world. They marched through her office complaining of one malady after another when their real problem was loneliness.

The idea had her wondering about Mac McCleod’s life and what he must have gone through if the story he’d told about his mother was true. It was hard for Ileana to imagine growing up without her mother’s love, her constant hugs and kisses. Had the tough cowboy with the sexy brown eyes missed out on being cuddled and praised, or had a stepmother given him and his brother those things? she wondered.

That part of Mac McCleod is none of your business, Ileana. Just stick to the facts and concentrate on keeping your patient away from any undue stress.

The little voice of warning continued to pester her until the two women entered the kitchen and seated themselves at the small dining table.

“Okay, honey, what’s this thing you wanted to discuss with me?” Chloe asked as she spooned a hefty amount of goulash onto her plate. “I hope you haven’t stopped by to tell me that Frankie’s condition has gotten worse.”

“No. Actually, I think she’s slightly improved from yesterday, but her lungs still have a long way to go before I can pronounce them clear.”

“Damn woman,” Chloe muttered. “She should have had heart surgery a year ago when you advised her to.”

Ileana sighed. Frankie wasn’t the first stubborn patient she’d encountered. Over the eleven years she’d been a practicing physician, Ileana had run into her fair share, and when a patient refused treatment it always left her feeling frustrated and helpless. “That’s true. Her lungs are going to keep giving her problems if she doesn’t get her heart sound. But she’s afraid.”

Chloe frowned. “Well, aren’t we all afraid of medical procedures? But if we’re smart, we do them, because we want to be well and at our best. Life is too short to simply exist. I want to live my God-given days to the fullest.”

Ileana thoughtfully stirred sugar into her iced tea. “Yes, but you have lots to live for. I’m not sure that Frankie views life the same as you, Mother. Losing Lewis has devastated her. Just like it would devastate you if Daddy died.”

“Of course losing Wyatt would crush me! He’s the love of my life. But I’d have to go on doing the very best that I could. To do any less would be dishonorable to Wyatt and you children.”

Yes, her mother would see it that way, Ileana thought. But Chloe was a scrapper. As very young women, she and her two sisters had struggled and sacrificed to keep the Bar M going when others would have given up. Frankie didn’t have that same fighting spirit. Could her past life be some of the reason for her lack of grit? Ileana wondered.

“Mother, speaking of children, have you ever heard Frankie mention that she had other children?”

Across the table, Chloe’s fork stopped midway to her mouth. “Other children? What kind of question is that?”

“It’s not some sort of joke, if that’s what you’re thinking. Besides, you know I don’t joke.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, I do know. But let’s not get into that now. What are you getting at? The idea of Frankie having other children is preposterous.”

Ileana reached for a piece of cornbread. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d met Mac McCleod.”

Her expression puzzled, Chloe repeated the name. “I’ve never heard the name. Who is he? Where did you meet him?”

“He’s a deputy sheriff from Bee County, Texas. He showed up at the hospital wanting to see Frankie.”

Her expression full of concern now, Chloe leaned forward. “You didn’t allow him to see her, did you?”

Her mother’s sudden anxiousness was suspicious. “You know I’m not allowing anyone in to see her except Quint, Alexa and Abe.”

Chloe glanced down at her plate but didn’t attempt to resume eating. Ileana could tell that her thoughts were whirling.

“Was it official business?” her mother asked.

“No. Personal.” Ileana stabbed a piece of macaroni with her fork. She didn’t like giving people she loved bad news. And she had a deep feeling that Mac McCleod’s appearance was going to shake up more than a few around here. Especially Alexa and Quint. What would they think about having two half brothers? “He—uh—he says he thinks Frankie might be his long-lost mother. In fact, he seems almost certain of it.”

“My God, Ivy! You can’t be serious!”

She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had called her Ivy, the nickname her father had given her shortly after she’d been born. He’d considered Ileana too long and formal for a tiny baby girl. But by the time she’d reached high school age, Ileana had outgrown the nickname. Now, the only people who sometimes called her Ivy were her father and her brother, Adam. Apparently, her mother was completely distressed tonight.

“Yes, Mother. It seemed incredulous to me, too. But the man isn’t a flake. Far from it. He seemed more than legitimate and very determined. He showed me an old snapshot of him and his brother and his mother before she’d left the family. If you took off thirty years, the woman did resemble Frankie.”

“An old photograph doesn’t prove anything. What was this man like? Did he look like he could be related to Frankie?” she asked, then shook her head with disgust. “What the hell am I doing asking that question? There’s just no way. No way at all that Frankie had other children. She would have told me.”