Texas Miracle Page 7

  Mac knocked as he opened the side door, which she’d left unlocked for him. “Hello?” he called, removing his boots.

  “Hello!” She waved from the kitchen.

  “I like your apron,” he said, walking in and filling the room with his presence.

  She kissed him on both of his cheeks, which were cold from the weather. “That’s what my European friends do to greet each other.”

  He rubbed his hands together to warm them and then cupped her face, kissing her on the lips. “I’m not European.” He kissed her again more deeply.

  She laughed. Patting his solid chest with her hands, she asked, “Did you come here to kiss or eat?”

  He pretended to be thinking before he answered, “Both.”

  “Well, sit down there and I’ll feed you before I have you for dessert.” Jacqueline turned away, blushing, before she could see his expression. His affection for her was making her quite bold.

  She set the salad on the table with silver tongs, encouraging Mac to serve himself. Then she took the lasagna and bread out of the oven. Leaving the lasagna to set while they were eating, she turned off the oven and put the bread into a basket she’d brought back from a trip to Kenya. After setting it on the table, she grabbed the wine and a corkscrew, and poured them both a glass.

  “What kind of wine is that?” Mac asked, turning the bottle to read the label.

  “It’s an Arkansas wine. I first tasted it in college.”

  “It’s good.”

  “I love it.” Jacqueline drank a sip. “Post Winery is really great. It’s in this cute little town called Altus. They have some wonderful muscadine juice, too—I like to drink it hot, like tea.”

  “That sounds good.”

  They chatted about the new baby, and customers who had come by the office while Mac was gone. Mac ate like a starving man. Jacqueline served him two plates of the lasagna and he cleaned them both. “This is delicious.” He patted his stomach. “Thank you for cooking.”

  When the meal was over, Mac poured the last of the wine into Jacqueline’s glass. “Come with me,” he said, leading her by the hand into the living room. There was already a fire blazing in the fireplace.

  He set the glass of wine on the table and propped pillows on one end of the couch. Instructing Jacqueline to sit, he removed her boots and placed her legs on the cushions, easing her into a lounging position. She rested her head against the pillows and smiled at him. “May I ask what you are doing?”

  “I want you to relax while I clean up the kitchen.”

  “No way!” She started to move, but he stopped her by placing a hand on her knee. Then he knelt beside the couch and started rubbing her feet through her socks.

  “Jacqueline.” Mac’s eyes would have melted a snowman. “You worked hard all day and then came home and cooked. I’m going to do this.” He pressed his thumb into her heel and traced a straight line, applying pressure to her arch and then the ball of her foot. The sensation was amazing.

  Jacqueline felt she was falling under a spell as he massaged her feet. But she was even more touched by his understanding and appreciation. “Okay, since you twisted my arm.” She clasped her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, giving in to the pleasure of being pampered. By the time Mac finished rubbing her feet, Jacqueline was completely relaxed. He left her on the couch and headed for the kitchen.

  “Feel free to wear my apron!” she called after him.

  While Mac was in the kitchen, Jacqueline checked email on her phone. Buddy King had replied that there were no queries about the land, but to be patient, things were always slow in the winter. There was this email from her mother:

  Hi there,

  How are things in Podunk, Texas? It’s cold here. The pond had a thin layer of ice on it this morning. Hope you are staying warm.

  Not to pressure you, but we really need to sell that land. Just found out we owe some money on back taxes—not sure how we’ll pay it. Any advice from your favorite CPA?

  Dad says hi.

  Love,

  Mom

  The third email was from her supervisor at KARIS.

  Jacqueline,

  I hope this finds you well. The situation in Afghanistan continues to deteriorate. I don’t know at this time when we will be able to reopen our offices there. However, there are other places in need of your particular skill set, if you are interested in relocating in the near future.

  Thoughts?

  Therese

  Jacqueline didn’t reply to any of them. Not yet. She needed time to think. She took a sip of her wine and touched the app for one of her favorite word games. She and her brother played the game religiously, had for years. It was the primary way she kept in touch with him. Sam had just scored 105 points by playing the word rioja. Jacqueline rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling. He left her this message:

  Bam! That had to hurt.

  Then, in a separate bubble, Word game pride aside, how’s it going?

  She typed, Pride goeth before the fall. And then, using her Q, played the word quark. It gave her only fifty points, but as she’d been ahead, this brought her back within his range. Pretty good here. Cooked lasagna for Mac tonight. How are you?

  Mac appeared in the doorway wearing her apron. He leaned against the frame with one elbow, striking a pose. She held up her phone to take a picture, but he dodged it, plopping down on the couch beside her and stealing her phone.

  “Why won’t you let me take your picture?” She took back her phone and set it on the table.

  “I want no evidence of my apron wearing to exist.”

  Jacqueline raised her eyebrows. “Well, I can take care of that for you.” She untied the apron and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor. Then she climbed onto his lap, facing him. She stroked his cheek, which was beginning to show a bit of stubble. She removed his glasses and set them by her phone. “It’s about time you finished up in there. I’m ready for dessert.”

  He smiled and leaned back, watching her. The firelight flickered in his eyes.

  She kissed his lips lightly. Then she kissed his forehead and both of his eyelids before kissing the end of his nose. Next she kissed each cheek. Tracing his jawline with her kisses, she worked her way across his face before descending to his neck. He giggled deep. Finally, she brought her lips back to his and kissed him longer, harder. He buried his face in her neck and hugged her to him. She curled her fingers through his thick hair.

  Taking control, Mac leaned them over carefully, stretching his long legs out on the couch. Jacqueline followed suit. Their legs intertwined, and their faces were just inches away from one another’s on the pile of pillows. With his powerful arms around her, she felt safe.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  Her cheeks flamed. “You’re not so bad looking yourself.”

  “No, I mean it.” Mac raised a hand and smoothed her unruly hair back from her face. “Your beauty goes way beyond your good looks.” His eyes burned themselves into hers.

  A new sensation rose in Jacqueline’s heart. No one ever talked to her this way. Not in her whole life. Plenty of people had commented on her appearance—but no one ever seemed to see her, really see her, like Mac. Where was this all going?

  “Mac?”

  “Hmm?” He nuzzled her with his nose.

  “You know when you said you thought you were falling for me?”

  “Yep.”

  “What does that mean?” Her voice was tentative. “I mean, where do you think this is going?”

  His body tensed slightly. He took a deep breath.

  “To be honest, I don’t know.”

  “Where do you want it to go?” she pressed.

  “I don’t know that either, yet. It scares me a little.”

  She propped her
head up on her elbow. “The cool and calm McCarthy Temple, afraid?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “What can I say?”

  “You can say what you’re afraid of.”

  “I couldn’t do that.” He shook his head. “It would ruin my tough-guy image.”

  “As if the apron hasn’t done that already.” She punched him lightly on the arm.

  His eyes suddenly seemed vulnerable. “Okay. I’m afraid you’ll leave—that you won’t want to stay here—and my life will go back to what it was before you came.”

  “Was it bad?”

  “No. It was full. I was happy. But with you, it’s—”

  “What?”

  “Man, you’re really stripping me down here.”

  “That could be arranged.”

  Mac gently caressed her jaw with his thumb. “Complete. It’s more complete.”

  She brought his hand to her heart, laying her head back down beside his on the pillow. “I feel that way, too.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MAC SPENT THE next several days going back and forth between his office and the hospital. Stella was finally released with orders not to work for six weeks, but the baby would stay in the NICU for a while. Thus, the brothers and their wives made themselves a schedule of driving Stella to Tyler to see the baby, as well as helping Joiner at the stables as much as they could. Even after Stella was strong enough to drive, they took turns going with her a couple of days a week so they could see the baby, as well as to try to lessen the new mother’s loneliness and stress.

  While he wasn’t tending to the needs of his family or working on taxes, Mac forced himself to look for ways to help Jacqueline sell her parents’ land.

  Though the thought of accelerating her departure from Kilgore sickened him, he was a man of principle. And the thought of holding her back if she wanted to leave sickened him more. Caring for someone, being a friend, if nothing else, meant trying to help when you could. And it was clear the sale of the land weighed on her. Mac didn’t think it was fair for her parents to put her in such a position, but there it was. She’d mentioned a few times they really needed money. If there was a way to get her out from under that pressure, he needed to find it, even if it ultimately meant letting her go.

  Pushing aside that last thought, Mac pulled up his email. He was hoping for a reply from his friend Chad Williams, a guy who dabbled in all sorts of business, including oil surveying and production. Mac had sent him a message late the day before. He was glad to see a prompt response.

  Hey Mac,

  Always good to hear from you.

  I know that piece of land you’re describing. It’s been on my radar before. Honestly, I can’t tell you without a survey, but it’s possible there’s oil under it. Seems like an old buddy of mine inquired about it once, but came to a dead end with the owners. Some kind of weird ethical dispute. They weren’t into drilling.

  But if you can get permission, I’d be happy to take a look.

  Just let me know and we can get that ball rolling.

  Chad

  “Jacqueline?” He walked up the hall to her desk.

  She glanced up at him with a sweep of her eyelashes, and for a second, he forgot the reason he had left his office. “Yes, sir?”

  “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

  She grinned wickedly, raising her eyebrows. “Hmm.”

  “Quit flirting with me. This is serious.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Well, in no way do I want you to take this as a sign that I want you to leave, because I do not.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean, I so do not.” Mac exhaled loudly. “But, as your friend, I feel like I should try to help you unload your parents’ land if I can.”

  Her eyes brightened.

  “I took the liberty of emailing a friend of mine who knows some things about real estate and surveys for oil. He’s willing to have a look at your parents’ place if you want him to.”

  Jacqueline’s face betrayed surprise.

  “You think there could be oil there?”

  “We’re in Kilgore, Texas. There’s always a chance.”

  “What’s the charge for the survey?”

  He could see her calculating in her head. “Nothing in this case. I save this guy quite a bit of money on his taxes. I think he’ll do it for free.”

  Jacqueline bit her bottom lip. “Really?”

  “Do you think it would be okay with your parents?”

  “I don’t think I’ll ask them.” Jacqueline squared her shoulders. “I’m the one responsible for selling it. I can make the decision to survey. If something comes out of it, well, I can involve them then.”

  Mac nodded. “Makes sense to me.” He admired her spunk.

  “What do we need to do?”

  “I’ll shoot him an email that we want to move forward.”

  “Wow. Okay.”

  He grinned at her. “Okay.” He started to saunter away.

  “Mac?”

  Jacqueline’s whole face softened as he turned to face her. She was truly radiant.

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  IT TURNED OUT Chad could meet them on the land at five thirty that very afternoon. As Mac was off duty with his brothers, they made plans to go directly there once they finished work. He knew where the land was, but he followed her with his truck as she drove her brother’s Prius. Chad pulled in behind them in an SUV.

  Mac took her arm to steady her on the washed-out dirt driveway. They walked toward Chad, who climbed out of his vehicle and met them with a big toothy grin. He thrust out his hand at Mac.

  “What’s going on, Macky Wacky?”

  Jacqueline raised her eyebrows at him, but he shrugged, smiling.

  “Chad the Lily Pad.” Mac grasped Chad’s hand with his right while slapping his shoulder with his left. “How in the world are you?”

  “Good, brother. Good.”

  “This is Jacqueline Aimes.”

  Jacqueline stepped forward to shake Chad’s hand. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”

  “Chad’s older, much older.” Mac winked.

  “Hey, I’m just two years older than you.”

  “That’s true. But she’s Joiner’s age.”

  Chad nodded Texas-style. “Oh. Well, in that case.” He smiled warmly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Do you have any guesses about the possibility of finding oil?” Jacqueline inquired.

  Chad put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Not a good guess, Ms. Aimes. Not without my equipment. But I’d say it’s definitely worth exploring. I told Mac there was someone else interested a few years back—you may know they contacted your parents. But at that time, it wasn’t something they wanted to pursue.”

  “What does a survey entail?”

  Mac noticed Jacqueline furrow her brow.

  Chad walked ahead of them and motioned with his arms. “We’d come set up, probably over there. I’ve got this laser technology I use. It’s not invasive and it’s really accurate. I can get you a pretty good guess in a few days.”

  “That sounds great.”

  Chad pointed a finger toward an outbuilding—a shack, really—that she said her father once used as a shed for tools. “If we find something and end up setting up shop, that will have to go. Just something to think about.”

  Jacqueline nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

  “Okay, if you’ll just sign these papers.” Chad took a small clipboard from inside his jacket. “This says you give us permission to survey.”

  Jacqueline read over it and signed. “When do you think you can get to it?”

&nbs
p; “It’ll have to be next week sometime, but I’ll do my best to get out here as quickly as possible.”

  They walked back to their cars.

  “Thanks, Chad,” Mac said. “I sure appreciate it.”

  “Happy to help. Nice to meet you, Jacqueline.”

  “You, too. And thanks very much.”

  As Chad backed down the driveway, Mac stood for a moment with Jacqueline, looking out at the land. The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air. Mac opened her car door for her. “Would you like to go grab a bite to eat now? We could meet at the Mexican place.”

  “Sounds yummy. And warm.” She shivered.

  “Well, here, get in your car.”

  She squinted her eyes in the direction of the toolshed. There was something bothering her, but Mac couldn’t tell what.

  “Are you ready, girl? Anything else you need to do here?”

  She placed her hand on his arm. “Wait. I see something, Mac. Something moving.”

  * * *

  JACQUELINE GRABBED MAC’S hand and pulled him toward the dilapidated toolshed. He stopped her after a few steps.

  “Jacqueline! What are you doing? Wait a minute. Let’s think this through. What did you see?” He squinted toward the shed into the waning sunlight.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  “Could it be a stray dog or cat?” Mac frowned. “Or something bigger? Maybe let’s call someone. Or let me at least get my gun out of the truck.”

  The fact that Mac had a concealed-carry license had never set real well with her. She just couldn’t imagine needing it. And the violence she’d seen in other countries tended to bias her against guns. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Mac.” She strode away from him.

  He caught up quickly. “I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

  The shed’s tin roof was streaked with rust. The sunset glinted on it, revealing a dark copper color. Weather had eaten away at the wood siding, which was now the graying color of barn wood, interspersed here and there with green lichen. The dusty door creaked on its hinges.

  “Hello?” Jacqueline called. She knocked on the door as she pushed it open. On the floor were wrappers—granola bars, candy, snack crackers—and a black banana peel. A crusty apple core.