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The Wilde Bunch
Barbara Boswell


Mr. August Wilde Man: Rancher Mac Wilde desperately needed a woman's help.Not-so-wild Woman: Kara Kirby could be a wonderful wife, but would she agree to Mac's marriage proposal? Mac knew Kara hadn't come to Montana to find a husband! But this rugged cowboy needed Kara - not for himself, but to take care of his four rambunctious kids.There was no way he was going to let her get away without putting a ring on her finger, but Kara wasn't about to agree to a marriage without love!









The Wilde Bunch

Barbara Boswell















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


One (#ubc82805a-d44b-541b-b961-54c2f60bb440)

Two (#u32289ed1-d6af-5f19-b532-e2610acc03d4)

Three (#u63acc399-85ba-5663-b807-749c15fcc6a4)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)




One


“Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong?” The Reverend Will Franklin shook his head, frowning. “I’m afraid I can’t agree with you on that, Mac. It’s too cynical, too pessimistic.” He set down his coffee cup and leaned forward, his expression earnest. “It doesn’t leave room for the power of—”

“Positive thinking,” Macauley Wilde interjected. “I know, I know. I read that book you lent to me. And I tried thinking positive thoughts when Brick was expelled for a week for fighting after only one day at his new school. I tried positive thinking when Lily sneaked out of the house and stayed out all night. I tried to think positive when little Clay and his �gang’ broke into the high school and liberated all the white mice from their cages in the science lab and got himself suspended. I tried—”

“I know how difficult it’s been,” Reverend Will cut in. He did not want to be converted to Mac’s cynical, pessimistic viewpoint. At this rate, he might well be. “Your brother Reid’s children have had an—uh—difficult adjustment to life here in Bear Creek.”

“They haven’t adjusted at all,” Mac said grimly. “And they don’t intend to. They’re maniacs, Rev. Sometimes they’re blatant, sometimes they’re subtle, but each child is maniacal in his or her own different way.”

“I won’t deny that the four of them are...uh...difficult.” The reverend cleared his throat. He was aware that he was overusing the word difficult, but it was the most tactful adjective available to him. A man of the cloth should not use words like monstrous, heinous, atrocious. Especially not when describing children. “Anyway, I wasn’t speaking of the power of positive thinking. I meant to say the power of prayer.”

“Religion doesn’t apply to those kids. Unless you’re talking exorcism.”

“I know you’re only joking, Mac.” Reverend Will smiled uneasily. “You’ve always had a keen sense of humor.”

“Rev, I’m not laughing. Those kids have been with me for less than six months and something’s got to give. When they arrived in June, I figured they’d have all summer to settle in and be ready for school in September. Wrong! Things became exponentially worse. Now it’s mid-October and I’m desperate. We can’t go on like this.”

The reverend tensed. “Are you thinking of giving them up to the state?”

“Ha! The state won’t take them. Since they’ve been here such a short time, Montana thinks they should be returned to their native state of California which says, �oh, no, not our problem anymore.’ The surrounding states—Idaho, Washington, Oregon—have already warned that their borders are sealed and not to even think of trying to dump those kids there.”

“Hyperbole.” Reverend Will chuckled appreciatively. “Most telling. But I understand the point you’re trying to make, Mac.”

“That the Wilde kids are notoriously incorrigible and have invoked terror in every child welfare worker unlucky enough to cross their path?”

“No. That you intend to keep Reid and Linda’s children, no matter what. I admire your courage, Mac. I mean, your dedication,” Reverend Will corrected himself hastily, his neck flushing. “Your resolve.”

“They’re my flesh and blood, Rev.” Mac sighed. “I loved my brother and I was genuinely fond of Linda, too, even though I tended to see things differently from them.”

“Most people saw things differently from Reid and Linda,” Reverend Will said tactfully. “It’s just too bad that you didn’t get the children immediately after the death of their parents. The year they spent with your brother James and his wife Eve was quite...unfortunate. I think most of their problems stem from that—uh—difficult time.”

“Amen, Rev. I know I wouldn’t want to live with James and Eve, either. I offered to take the kids then, but James and Eve insisted they should be the ones to raise them, as they’re a �solid marital unit.’ That’s how they refer to themselves.” Mac grimaced. “They pointed out that since I had been a partner in a defective marital unit, it would be detrimental to bring children into my inadequate broken home. They considered me unfit to raise kids, until they decided they couldn’t stand the little monsters. Then it was �off you go to Uncle Mac’s, even though he’s divorced, defective and inadequate.’”

“James and Eve undoubtedly meant well, but they are—” Reverend Will paused to cough discreetly. “Difficult.” There was that word again. But it wouldn’t do for a man of the cloth to use judgmental terms like self-righteous, self-satisfied and petty to describe that solid marital unit of James and Eve Wilde.

“And you are not a failure because your marriage didn’t work out, Mac. You and Amy were too young when you married, you both wanted different things and you grew apart.” The minister shrugged. “Unfortunate, but it happens. What shouldn’t happen is to let a mistake which happened long ago keep you from committing to another permanent relationship.”

“Uh-oh. Here it comes. Your semi-annual �find yourself a nice girl and settle down’ sermon.” Mac held up his hands, as if to ward off the words.

“At the risk of sounding like James and Eve, promoting themselves as a solid marital unit, I would like to point out that having a woman in your house would certainly add some stability to the environment. Not to mention a sense of family and permanence which I think those four unfortunate children desperately need.”

“I knew you were going to say that!” Mac stood and began to pace in front of the big granite fireplace. The head of a moose, complete with a spectacular set of antlers, was mounted above it. “And here’s the kicker, Rev. I actually agree with you. I swore I was through with marriage after that fiasco with Amy, but I know I can’t raise those kids alone—I need another adult in the house with me. But just when I finally decide I have to have a wife, guess what.”

He stopped pacing and stared up at the moose head. “No woman is interested in the position. Not when it means taking on my brother’s kids.”

“Did you actually discuss marriage with one of your—lady friends?” Reverend Will asked curiously.

Mac shrugged. “I didn’t exactly propose, but I brought up the subject. Jill Finlay shuddered and said she wasn’t interested in raising anybody’s children but her own. Tonya Bennett told me, �Lose the kids and then we’ll talk about marriage.’ Marcy Tanner said she wanted to marry me but insisted that the kids would sabotage our chance for happiness and I should send them packing. Of course, if I didn’t have the kids, I wouldn’t need to marry any of them. I wouldn’t want to. But things being how they are...”

He locked eyes with the moose. “It’s hopeless, Rev. What woman in her right mind would want to marry me and move in with the Gang of Four?”

“To think that just last year, you were voted the �Most Eligible Bachelor in Bear Creek’ at the hospital auxiliary’s Valentine dance.” The reverend sighed. “Well, I’m disappointed in Jill and Tonya and Marcy, but not surprised. You need a young woman of exceptional depth and commitment and those ladies do not fit the bill. But I know someone who does, Mac.”

“Trying to play matchmaker, Rev?” Mac stared at the older man. “Thanks but no thanks. If I can’t find my own—”

“Mac, sorry to interrupt!” A tall, tough-looking cowboy burst into the room, sounding as agitated as he looked.

Mac felt his stomach lurch. His ranch manager, Webb Asher, was not quick to panic. He never would have come to the house unless it was a genuine emergency. “What is it, Webb?”

“The fencing is down in the north field, Mac. Can’t tell how it happened, but the cattle trampled it and are milling around in the direction of Blood Canyon.”

“Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse!” Mac growled. “We have to repair that fence and start rounding up the cattle immediately.” He glanced at his watch. “And I’m supposed to pick up Autumn at five at the Community Center when her dance class is over.”

“I could ask my daughter Tricia to pick her up and drive her out here to the Double R,” Reverend Will offered. “That is, if you think Autumn will get into the car with Tricia.”

“I don’t know.” Mac started pacing again. “Autumn doesn’t know Tricia very well and she has all these fears.... That kid sees danger lurking everywhere. And I’ve never heard anybody scream louder than she does when she’s upset.”

“That’s the truth!” Webb agreed, injecting himself into the conversation. “First time that kid screamed, I thought a bear grabbed her and was mauling her. But she was screaming �cause her brother was throwing water balloons at her and told her they were filled with acid. Kid thought her skin was going to peel off from acid burns.” The ranch manager shrugged quizzically. “Who’d think a little girl would know about stuff like acid burns?”

“Autumn specializes in the grisly and the gruesome,” Mac said glumly. “I think she does research.”

“The child does have a highly imaginative streak,” Reverend Will murmured. “A pity her imagination tends toward the—uh—morbid side.”

Mac paced faster. “How can I be in two places at the same time? Picking up Autumn and working in the north field? Most of the time I feel as if I’m being pulled in five different directions at once, and I see no end in sight.”

“If you had a wife at home, she would be supervising the children,” the pastor pointed out. “She could help cook meals and—”

“Meals! Dinner!” Mac slapped his hand to his forehead and groaned in despair. “Damn, I forgot about dinner.”

“Can’t Lily cook for the younger children?” Reverend Will asked. “I know she’s taking a cooking class at the high school because my Tricia is in it.”

“Your Tricia might cook a meal for her family, but Lily will either set fire to the kitchen or poison the other kids. Deliberately.” Mac sighed. “Mrs. Lattimore makes us casseroles for three dinners on the days she comes in to clean, but the other four days dinner is one of my major headaches.”

“The young lady I have in mind for you loves to cook, Mac,” Reverend Will remarked, his tone purposefully enticing. “She’s great with kids and has always wanted a family of her own. She is currently working in Washington, D.C., and from her letters, I feel certain that she’s ready for a change. We could bring her to Bear Creek and—”

“Like a mail-order bride, sort of thing?” Mac gave a hoot of laughter. “Sounds like the plot of a romance novel, Rev. And I don’t look a bit like that blond-haired guy who’s on all those covers.”

“It’s no worse than advertising in the personal ads, which many people do these days,” the reverend pointed out. “And my plan is certainly a lot better and safer. I can personally vouch for both you and Kara and the two of you can—”

“Hey, Mac, your nephew is driving the Jeep,” Webb exclaimed, dashing toward the front door.

“Brick?” Mac uttered a curse. “He’s supposed to be in school. If he got himself expelled again...”

The three men raced to the front porch.

“Good Lord, it’s little Clay!” gasped Reverend Will.

For one paralyzing moment the three men watched the second-grader behind the wheel.

“Hey, Uncle Mac,” young Clay shouted out the window of the Jeep, which was jouncing around the circular drive. “I got sent home early today �cause I’m infected. See how good I can drive!”

“Infected with what?” Webb backed away from Mac.

“I’d heard the elementary school was experiencing an epidemic of chicken pox,” Reverend Will said. “If Clay has it, he’ll miss at least a week of school. My little Joanna missed two weeks when she caught it a few years ago.”

“Good luck working the ranch and taking care of a sick kid, Mac,” Webb said in a better-you-than-me tone of voice.

“A marriage of convenience is starting to look mighty tempting,” Mac uttered. “A sensible arrangement between two adults who know what they want and are beyond confusing fantasy with the realities of everyday life. At least we’d be spared all those falling-in-love delusions that just mess everything up. Rev, get that family-loving girl you know out here as soon as you can. At my expense,” he added, just before making a mad dash toward the Jeep.

* * *

Kara Kirby read the letter over and over, willing the words to change. They didn’t. The message remained the same.

It is with regret I inform you that, as a result of the recent decision to eliminate overstaffing in certain functions performed within the Department of Commerce, your position will be eliminated within thirty days of the date of this letter.

The letter went on, reassuring her that this was not a result of her job performance, which had been consistently excellent, but rather a necessary adjunct to the department’s continuing efforts to reduce expenditures in areas which no longer occupied the same level of priority as they had in the past.

She was out of a job! Thirty days from today, she would be unemployed, her position as a statistician for the Department of Commerce having been eliminated in another round of government budget cuts.

Hot tears filled Kara’s eyes, and she fought the rush of panic that surged through her. She’d held that job for the past five years! Sure, it had been dull at times—well, much of the time—but the pay was decent and she had health benefits and an annual one-week paid vacation. For the past year, she’d been able to pay the rent on her apartment in Virginia, just across the district line, without having to take roommates to split the costs.

Kara enjoyed the privacy but missed the company and the activity provided by other people. She’d always been reserved and introverted, and living with other girls forced her to socialize. But faced with moving in with strangers after her last roommate, a college friend, had married, Kara decided to go it alone. Now she shared her home and her life with her Siamese cat, Tai, who sat on the sofa across the room, watching her with his inscrutable blue eyes.

Three months ago, on her twenty-sixth birthday, Kara had sat in front of her television set with Tai and had taken stock of her life. She was twenty-six years old, living alone with her cat, her small social circle dwindling as old friends married or left the area, moving on with their lives while hers remained static.

Day after day, year after year, the same routine, same job—a comfortable quiet way of life, but one that offered no surprises, no change. The years had slipped away and she’d barely noticed. Now she was past twenty-five, entering the bottom half of her twenties and grinding inexorably toward thirty. The big three-oh! She was only four years away from it and she wasn’t even dating anybody! The lonely empty years stretched before her with no man, no children. And now, no job!

She sadly faced the fact that she was not going to meet Mr. Right. With women greatly outnumbering men in Washington, D.C., eligible bachelors had their choice of outgoing, high-wage-earning beauties. Why would Mr. Right settle for someone like her—a shy office worker, average in every way?

But some indomitable deeply feminine instinct within her demanded someone to love, to nurture. She had always been one of those little girls who cherished her dolls and prayed for a baby sister or brother. But there had been no siblings, and as she grew older, her dreams were for a child of her own—and a man to father her child, a man she adored, who would love her and their baby. What a wonderful, happy family they would make!

Tai meowed and jumped down from the couch. Seeking attention, he wound his way around her ankles, his meows growing louder and more demanding, until Kara leaned down to pet the soft fur around his ears.

“Oh, Tai, what are we going to do?” It hurt to swallow around the huge lump in her throat. Never had her dreams seemed as impossible as at this bleak moment.

Tai purred loudly, oblivious to her distress, his back arched in ecstasy as she stroked him. Tai was perfectly content with their solitary existence; Kara wished that she were. Loneliness washed over her in waves. The future loomed dark and dismal. In nine months, she would turn twenty-seven, all alone except for her cat.

The telephone rang, jarring Kara out of her reverie of despair. She was grateful for the diversion, even though it was probably just a telemarketer trying to convince her to buy magazines or something else she didn’t want or need.

“Kara?” The warm tones of Reverend Will Franklin sounded over the line.

“Uncle Will!” Kara exclaimed, thrilled to hear his voice.

“How would you like to come out for a visit, my dear?”

“Uncle Will, I’d love to, but—”

“No buts. I have a plane ticket for you. Ginny and the girls and I insist that you come to Montana. Immediately, if possible.”

* * *

Standing at the gate in the airport in Helena, Mac glanced at the photograph in his hand for perhaps the hundredth time since Reverend Will had given it to him one week ago. The young woman featured in the photo was Kara Jo Kirby, age twenty-six.

He had urged the reverend to contact her last week, the day Brick had been discovered hiding in the girls’ locker room with a Polaroid camera. And after chasing Clay around the house trying to apply an anti-itch lotion to his chicken pox spots, Mac had decided that a solid marital unit in which to raise the children was no longer an option to consider sometime in the future, it was an immediate vital necessity.

Reverend Will was delighted. “I’ve known Kara for years, and I can attest to her trustworthiness and high moral standards.” He grew quiet for a moment. “I suppose I should tell you that I was Kara’s stepfather for nearly five-and-a-half years, from the time she was three until she was past eight. Then her mother divorced me,” he added flatly.

Mac gaped at him, speechless. He’d known Will and Ginny Franklin for the past fifteen years, ever since the pastor had arrived in Bear Creek. The couple and their two daughters, now aged sixteen and twelve, were the picture of domestic harmony. This was the first time he had ever heard of a previous Mrs. Franklin.

“It’s no secret, although I rarely speak of my first marriage,” Reverend Will said. “There is really no reason to and, well, Ginny doesn’t care to recall that I was married before. I’ve kept in touch with Kara through the years, though I haven’t seen her as much as either of us would’ve liked.” He handed Mac the picture. “This was taken nearly five years ago. I was in Washington for a conference at the time and visited with Kara there.”

Mac stared at the snapshot. Kara Kirby’s smile looked forced, as if she’d been commanded to say “cheese” just as the picture was being taken. Her hair was brown and blunt-cut in a straight bob, which swung below her jawline. A light smattering of bangs—not those moussed, gel-stiff bangs that stood up like a cresting ocean wave—accentuated her large, wide-set eyes.

Her nose was small and rather elegant, her teeth white and straight, her eyes a startling red, a casualty of the camera flash. Actually, her eyes were hazel in color, according to her former stepfather. In the picture, the young woman was slender, wearing white slacks and a peach-colored shirt, although in the past five years, she might have gained some weight.

Like three or four hundred pounds? Mac swallowed. Well, if she possessed the sterling character and rock-solid virtues attributed to her by the reverend, if she were willing to commit herself to a desperate man and four disturbed kids, then he was damned lucky to get her.

Clutching Tai’s travel cage, Kara deplaned and walked to the gate, her eyes flicking over the small crowd gathered to meet the flight. Reverend Will Franklin did not appear to be among them. In his carrier, Tai meowed piteously. He’d hated the flight and his constant raucous cries had earned him glares and scowls from the other passengers from takeoff until landing. The flight attendants hadn’t been too thrilled with him, either—or with her for bringing him aboard.

“Excuse me. Are you Kara Kirby?”

Kara started at the sound of the deep voice. “Yes.” She looked up—way up, for she was just five foot three, and the man standing in front of her was at least ten inches taller. He looked like the quintessential cowboy, wearing jeans, a chambray shirt and a pair of well-worn Western boots, one of those macho sorts featured in a beer or a Jeep commercial.

“I’m Mac Wilde.” He surveyed her intently. She looked the same as she had in that five-year-old picture. Her hair was exactly the same shade and style and her big wide eyes really were hazel, not vampire red. She was slender, small-boned with a slight frame, although the parts of her figure which interested him the most were not revealed. Her breasts were concealed beneath her thick, tunic-style beige sweater, her legs well-hidden in the slightly baggy pleated gray slacks.

Her clothes were certainly tasteful if not a tad dull—and a lot shapeless. Mac found himself wondering how she would look in brighter colors, more revealing styles. He frowned at the direction his thoughts had taken. Certainly he did not expect her to dress like teenage Lily, whose flamboyant sexy outfits frequently caused him bouts of avuncular shock.

His frown deepened. He’d caught Lily in the act of sneaking back into the house yesterday shortly before 3:00 a.m. and the little conniver had refused to tell him where she’d been. Or with whom.

Kara shifted uneasily, registering the man’s frown of disapproval. She guessed he’d been sent by the reverend to meet her plane—and that he was not pleased with his assigned chore. Probably not with her, either. Men who looked like Mac Wilde—who was tall and dark, but whose sharp blade of a nose and hard mouth saved him from classical masculine perfection, thereby making him even more interesting and attractive to her—men like that never noticed plain, uninteresting women like her.

Uncle Will had informed her that the distance from Helena to his home in the small town of Bear Creek was about one-hundred-seventy-five miles. That meant several hours in the company of this man, who would undoubtedly be heartily bored with her at journey’s end.

Kara searched her brain for something to say, wishing that some devastatingly clever bon mot would spring to mind, but of course, one did not. She’d never tossed off a clever bon mot in her entire life.

“I guess Reverend Franklin couldn’t make it to the airport and asked you to give me a ride,” she said, and immediately scorned herself for stating the obvious. When it came to the dull and the bland, she always delivered!

“I wanted to come,” Mac replied. Having paid for her ticket—he’d even sprung for first class—having braced himself for matrimony, he was champing at the bit to see his bride-to-be.

Kara smiled. “That’s kind of you to say.” She knew he didn’t mean it, and she appreciated his politeness.

Mac stared at her. Her smile was completely unlike that uncomfortable grimace that passed for a smile in the photograph. This smile was genuine, lighting her face and transforming it. Mac was intrigued. That sudden flash of animation revealed a very pretty woman. For the first time he took note of her skin, luminous and smooth as ivory, quite unlike the weather-tanned skin of the locals. Would her cheek be as soft to touch as it looked? And what about her skin elsewhere? He felt a stirring in his midsection which slowly twisted lower.

Kara quickly composed her face into the placid, guarded mask she’d been wearing since they’d met. Mac’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly that mask she wore interested him, too, because he knew there was another woman behind it. One whose hazel eyes sparkled with warmth when she smiled, whose mouth was wide and full and sensuous.

He allowed himself to contemplate kissing that sweet mouth. The heat in his loins flared pleasantly. Yes, he liked the idea of kissing her. This past week, he’d finally come to terms with the necessity of having a wife. After all, a woman had to know more about kids than he did; women possessed the acclaimed maternal instinct to guide them. And the availability of a wife would certainly be sexually convenient for him. Having a woman living under his roof and sharing his bed meant he would not have to go elsewhere for feminine companionship. He had discovered that the concept of dating was logistically impossible with four children around. Especially those four!

As for having sex...well, he wasn’t. An ache spread through his body, reminding him that there had been no woman in his bed since the children had come into his life. The long period of enforced celibacy was taking its toll on his nerves and his temper. He couldn’t wait to rectify the situation with his brand-new wife!

Kara cast a covert glance at him, feeling uncomfortable by the intense, almost predatory, glint in his eye. Her experience with men was woefully at odds with her chronological age. She was suddenly tense and on edge. “Is—is it a long drive to Reverend Will’s house in Bear Creek?”

“About three hours to Bear Creek and another twenty-five minutes to the ranch.”

“What ranch?”

“My ranch.”

“You have a ranch?” Interest replaced her vague unease. “A real Western working ranch?”

“Didn’t the Rev tell you about the Double R?” Mac was confused. He’d assumed the pastor would have provided her with at least the basic facts about her new home.

Kara shook her head no. “He talked a little about his own house,” she added, wondering why Mac appeared to be so perplexed. Was his ranch such a showpiece that he assumed it was the natural topic of conversation between any Bear Creek resident and visitor?

Tai chose that moment to utter an earsplitting meow which seemed to echo throughout the Helena airport.

“I can see that Autumn is going to have some competition in the screaming department,” Mac murmured. Just what the household needed, a cat whose meow could shatter glass.

Kara gulped, not quite sure what he was referring to, but had no doubts that he did not appreciate Tai’s no-holds-barred, executive meow. “Tai isn’t a good traveler,” she apologized. “This was his first flight and he’s very unhappy.”

Mac kept staring at her. She found his silence unnerving. “I—I’m glad that I insisted on bringing Tai in the cabin with me, though.” Mac Wilde’s eyes were a deep, dark brown, piercing and intent. When she felt his gaze sweep over her once again, a warm blush stained her cheeks.

“I know he wasn’t too popular with the crew and the other passengers, but I just couldn’t consign him to the freight area of the plane,” she continued, averting her eyes from Mac. “Tai’s never traveled before—it might’ve left lifelong emotional scars.”

“A cat with emotional scars,” Mac repeated. He decided her concern boded well for the kids. After all, if she had empathy for a cat, she would undoubtedly have it for four young orphans who had been uprooted for a second time after their parents’ demise.

“Come on, we’ll pick up your luggage. It should be in the baggage area by now. Then we’ll head out to the ranch.”

“I—I’d rather go to Reverend Franklin’s house.” Kara stood stock-still, clutching Tai’s carrier. “It’s been so long, I just can’t wait to see Uncle Will. Oh, and—and Ginny and the girls, too,” she added quickly.

Mac was not pleased, but he decided her request was not unreasonable. The pastor used to be her stepfather, and it had been five years since they’d seen each other. “Okay,” he agreed. “But I can’t leave the kids for too long.” The prospect of them on the loose made him shudder, considering the havoc they managed to wreak when under supervision. “We’ve really got to get going!”

He headed toward the baggage area, leaving Kara to follow him. She watched his tall muscular frame stride away from her. He had children. It was inevitable that an attractive, virile man such as he would be married with children. She wondered where his wife was and why, if he didn’t like leaving the children for long stretches of time, he had agreed to drive all the way to the airport to pick her up.

She thought about the way he had been looking at her. It didn’t seem right for a married man to stare in that particular way. Unless she was overreacting and misinterpreting? Was she turning into a suspicious spinster who spied a slavering sex fiend in every male who glanced her way?

The notion depressed her. She’d always despised that dreadful old card game Old Maid; now it appeared she was turning into the personification of the losing card. Kara flinched at the thought.

Her shoulders drooping, she trailed after Mac to retrieve her luggage, with the yowling Tai announcing his arrival and issuing complaints to everyone in the airport.

* * *

“How many children do you have?” Kara asked politely as they left the outskirts of Helena in Mac’s sturdy Jeep Cherokee. She’d taken Tai out of his carrier and held him on her lap, which had finally quieted him. But the cat was still tense and on guard, his blue eyes darting around the roomy interior of the vehicle.

“Four,” Mac replied. Surely the reverend had mentioned the children, the sole reason for her journey out here! He glanced across the seat at Kara and saw her stealing a quick glance at him. She flushed a little, embarrassed to be caught looking at him.

“How nice.” Kara continued in those same courteous, impersonal tones.

Mac noted that she was able to say “how nice” with a straight face. Exactly what had the pastor told her, anyway?

The radio was on, and an intensely romantic song pulsed over the airwaves. Kara stroked Tai’s fur and tried to calm her own increasingly taut nerves. She and Mac were alone, enclosed inside, and suddenly the atmosphere seemed disturbingly intimate.

She was acutely aware of his strong masculine presence. She couldn’t keep her eyes from straying to him. His big hands on the wheel, his broad shoulders, the wide powerful chest—Kara took inventory of them all. As if of its own volition, her gaze abruptly dropped lower to glide over his long, muscled legs, though she was careful to avoid the button fly of his jeans.

She was ogling him! Kara was shocked by her own blatant—and completely inappropriate—behavior. She had never actively ogled a man in her entire life and her first chosen target was a married man, a father of four!

It must be jet lag. Kara quickly strove to remedy her appalling lapse.

“How old are the children?” she asked, toying with Tai’s orange-and-black collar. Tai owned twelve different ones and Kara changed them monthly, the color and motif of each coordinating with whatever holiday or activity was associated with that particular month. Orange and black were for October and Halloween.

Mac frowned. This was not going as planned. In the scenario he’d envisioned, Kara arrived in Montana knowing all about her future family, as told to her by her former stepfather. Or was Kara Kirby simply playing dumb, trying to break the ice by asking questions to which she already knew the answers?

The sexy, smoky sounds of a sax filled the car, conjuring up images of a couple moving in rhythm to its beat. His eyes traveled to the curve of Kara’s slender neck where the skin looked as silky soft as her slightly flushed cheeks. He found himself wondering about the taste and feel of her mouth.

“What are the children’s names?” Kara asked a little frantically, her voice rising. He didn’t seem inclined to talk to her, but he was definitely not ignoring her, not when he kept looking at her in that dark, disturbing way. How well did Uncle Will know this man he’d sent to fetch her? she wondered nervously. What if he were one of those seeming pillar-of-the-community types with a hidden Dr. Jekyll alter ego?

“You want to know about the kids.” Mac sighed. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair to sugarcoat it, so I’ll give it to you straight. Lily just turned seventeen. She’s manipulative, sneaky and rebellious, and those are her good points. Brick will be fourteen on New Year’s Day and when he doesn’t find the trouble he’s looking for, he creates it. Autumn is ten and a little ghoul who sees danger in everything and is obsessed with crime and disaster. And finally, Clay, the youngest, is a seven-year-old hellion who lives by his own rules and sees no reason to follow anyone else’s. Needless to say, living with that crew has not been easy.”

Kara gulped. “I suppose not.” Perhaps he was just having a bad day and was venting steam? She decided that that must be the case and tried to come up with some diplomatic comment to offer. “The children’s names are interesting. Rather different.”

“Yeah, rather different,” Mac agreed grimly. “Like they are. Their parents—my brother Reid and his wife, Linda—wanted their names to be something besides a name. They wanted their names to be attached to the earth and be part of nature and the planet or something like that.”

“I think I understand,” Kara murmured. They’re not his children?

Mac was pleased. She hadn’t condemned the kids nor scoffed at Reid and Linda’s hug-a-tree philosophy of life. Kara seemed nonjudgmental and tolerant, exactly what they needed. Relief surged through him. He had made the right decision, bringing her out here. The sooner she moved in, the better for all of them.

“And the children are staying with you now?” Kara tried to put the pieces together.

“They’re living with me permanently. Their parents were killed in a car accident in a chain-collision pileup on one of the L.A. freeways nearly two years ago.”

“How tragic!” Kara was horrified. “Those poor children.”

Mac nodded. “It’s been rough. At first, Linda’s mom moved in with the kids but she barely lasted three months. She couldn’t handle them and was only too glad to escape to her retirement village condo, where kids under twenty-one are banned—even as visitors.”

“Oh, dear,” Kara murmured.

“Next, my brother James and his wife, Eve, decided it was their duty to take the kids. That arrangement lasted one miserable year.”

“The chemistry wasn’t right between the children and their aunt and uncle?” Kara surmised, her voice warm with sympathy.

“You could say that.” Everybody else, himself included, had said a lot more about the kids’ incorrigibility and James and Eve’s repressive rigidity. Not the right chemistry. Now that was putting a benign spin on an impossible situation! Mac liked her lack of negativity. She was going to need it, living with those four young terrorists.

“And after things didn’t work out, you took the children?” Kara prompted.

“They’ve been with me since June. I’m the first to admit that I don’t know much about raising kids. Aside from being one myself a long time ago, I haven’t had any experience with children.” Mac cast a sidelong glance at her. “It’s become clear to me that I’m not cut out to be a bachelor father.”

He was not a married man. Kara felt a peculiar heat suffuse her. She was dealing with the ramifications of having ogled a bachelor when Mac reached for the car phone.

“I’m going to call the kids and tell them we’re on our way.”

Ten rings later, he debated whether or not to hang up. “Why doesn’t someone answer? Where are they?” He glanced at his watch as the phone rang on and on. “It’s five o’clock, they should all be home from school by now.”

“Perhaps they—uh—were detained after school,” Kara suggested. Assigned to detention. Given Mac’s description of the kids, the possibility of punishment could not be ruled out.

Finally a small scared voice came over the line. “Hello?”

“Autumn, it’s Uncle Mac.” Mac breathed a sigh of relief. “What took you so long to answer the phone?”

“I was in my room and I pushed the dresser in front of the door, so it took me a while to move it,” Autumn whispered.

“What were you doing barricaded in your room, Autumn?” Mac braced himself for the answer. “And where are the other kids?”

“I was watching TV, Uncle Mac.”

“In your room? You don’t have a television set in there.”

“I do now,” Autumn said rather proudly. “I dragged the TV from the living room into my room. Uncle Mac, do you know that bad guys in jail try to get pen pals? And if you write to killers in jail, when they get out they’ll come and find you and try to steal your money or kill you.”

“Autumn, I told you that you weren’t allowed to watch any more of those tabloid news shows or talk shows, either,” Mac said sternly.

“Everything else is a rerun,” whined Autumn.

“And you are not to move the TV from the living room. I want you to put it back,” Mac ordered, then paused. “You never did say where the other kids are, Autumn.”

“They’re gone,” Autumn said gloomily. “I don’t know where, they just left. Uncle Mac, what if one of those killers who got out of jail is on his way to kill his pen pal and sees Lily or Brick or Clay and—”

“That’s enough, Autumn,” Mac cut off her morbid speculations. “Don’t you have any idea where the kids are?”

“Not Lily or Brick, but Clay said he was going to ride that big black horse.”

“Blackjack?” Mac choked. “The stallion? God almighty, Autumn, you have to—”

“Uncle Mac, someone’s knocking at the door!” Autumn shrieked into the phone. “Knocking real loud and hard like a murderer!” She let out a bloodcurdling scream audible to everyone in the Jeep.

Tai dug his claws into Kara’s thighs and growled a warning.

“Is she all right?” Kara asked with concern.

“Autumn!” Mac shouted her name a few times before finally reclaiming his niece’s attention. The screaming ceased.

“He says he’s Webb Asher, Uncle Mac. He says he has Clay,” Autumn reported. “He says to open up the door. I’m not going to, though. I think it’s someone pretending to be him. A killer from jail who’s pretending to be Webb,” she concluded dramatically.

“Autumn Wilde, you open that door and put Webb on the line, right now!” Mac commanded.

A few terse moments later, Mac hung up the phone. “My ranch manager caught Clay in the stallion’s pen tossing cookies at Blackjack, trying to make friends so he could get a ride. This is a wild-tempered stallion who could’ve killed him with just one kick. If Webb hadn’t gone down there when he did...” Mac’s stomach lurched. “I’ve got to get back there immediately. Lily and Brick are God-knows-where, and I can’t leave the two little ones home alone. I told Webb to stay with them till I got back, but his tolerance for children doesn’t go far.”

Kara glanced at her watch. “How much longer till we’re in Bear Creek?”

“We’re not going into town. I’ll take another road that will bypass Bear Creek and get us to the ranch faster.”

Kara swallowed her disappointment. Under the circumstances, she could hardly demand that Mac Wilde take her to the Franklin’s house in town before going to his ranch to check on his recalcitrant nieces and nephews.

“I’ll call Uncle Will as soon as we get to the ranch and ask him to pick me up. Then you won’t have to leave the children again to drive me into town.”

Mac frowned. “Can’t you wait until tomorrow to see him? You’ve had a long trip, and there’s no need for the reverend to come out to the ranch after dark.”

“Wait till tomorrow?” Kara echoed. “That’s impossible. I—”

“Let me put this another way. Nobody is going anywhere tonight. We’ll talk about getting you into town to visit the Rev tomorrow.”

“I can’t stay at your ranch overnight!” Kara felt a bolt of panic flash through her.

“Honey, you can and you are. Okay, you’re having an attack of nerves, thinking about meeting the kids. Who wouldn’t? I understand completely. I didn’t spare you the truth, and they are an intimidating bunch. But let’s not forget the reason why you’re here in Montana—”

“Yes, let’s not!” Kara cut in. Paradoxically, the fear she was feeling instilled her with an uncharacteristic boldness. “I’m here to visit Reverend Will Franklin.”

“It’s time to drop the charade, Kara. Let’s be honest with each other and cut the game playing. You know you’re here to marry me and help me raise those kids.”




Two


Kara gaped at him, stunned into speechlessness. Mac’s words seemed to hover tangibly in the air between them. Once again, she felt the heat of intensified color turn her cheeks a scalding pink.

“If—if this is your idea of a joke, I don’t appreciate it.” Kara finally found her voice. She wished she sounded less anxious and more sternly forceful. She had never felt so off-balance in her careful quiet life. “Uncle Will bought my plane ticket and he—”

“No, he didn’t. I paid for that ticket. If the Rev told you otherwise, he was—well, lying.” Mac shrugged at her shocked look of outrage. “Hey, the man is only human, after all. �Let he who is without sin’ and all that...”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that Uncle Will would invite me here, implying that he was paying for my ticket,” she emphasized the word, for Will hadn’t come right out and said that he’d bought it. “That he would be part of some plot to get me out here to m-marry you without ever mentioning you to me? That’s right, he never even mentioned your name, let alone this—this crazy notion you seem to have about—”

“It’s not the way I would’ve handled things myself,” Mac said, frowning his disapproval. “I thought the Rev would be up-front with you. After all, he was the one who came up with the idea in the first place.”

“He wouldn’t do such a thing!” Kara cried. “Not Uncle Will.”

“Listen, baby, Uncle Will dreamed up the whole thing. I didn’t even know you existed, until the Rev told me. He knew I was having trouble with the kids, and we both knew I needed a wife to help me with them. He suggested that you might be willing to come out here and marry me. When you accepted my ticket, I assumed you’d accepted the—uh—position.”

“Ohhh!” Kara covered her burning cheeks with her hands. “This can’t be true!”

“But you know it is.” Mac’s voice was firm.

“No!” Kara closed her eyes, fighting a crushing urge to burst into tears. “I came out here to visit my uncle—”

“He’s your stepfather,” Max said bluntly. “The Rev told me all about his marriage to your mother. I was surprised to hear it. I don’t think anybody in Bear Creek knows he was married before or has a grown stepdaughter.”

“Ex-stepdaughter,” Kara corrected tightly. “Ginny, his wife, made the ex very definite over the years. When I was still a little girl, she told me that I wasn’t allowed to call him Daddy anymore, that he had daughters of his own and I was not to think of myself as one of them.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, it hurt. He told me to call him Uncle Will, instead. I did as he asked, but for a long time afterward I still thought of him as my dad. My real father died shortly after I was born, and Will was the only father I’d ever known.”

“So he placated his wife at your expense?”

“He had no choice,” Kara loyally defended her former stepfather. “A husband does what he has to do to make his wife happy.”

“Let me rephrase that for you—a wimp caves in and lets the woman have the upper hand,” Mac said scornfully. “And it’s always a big, big mistake.”

“One you’d never make, I’m sure,” Kara murmured, because she simply could not let his chauvinistic remark go unchallenged.

“That’s right,” Mac agreed proudly. It seemed he’d interpreted her challenge as a compliment. He shook his head, bemused. “None of this sounds like the Rev and Ginny I’ve known for the past fifteen years.”

“Uncle Will was heartbroken when my mother left him for another man. So was I.” Kara’s voice grew bleak, remembering that sad time. “Mom always claimed he married Ginny on the rebound and Ginny knew it. That’s why she resented Will’s relationship with me so much. I was a reminder that my mother, and not Ginny, was the great love of his life.”

“It’s hard to imagine the Rev in the role of romantic lead,” Mac said wryly. “And even harder to picture Ginny as a possessive shrew, nasty to little girls. She’s always been so helpful and upbeat.”

“I doubt that even the most helpful, upbeat woman likes to think of herself as second best when it comes to love. Women always found my mother a threat because she was—and still is—a very beautiful woman.”

Kara felt Mac’s eyes upon her, assessing her. Doubtlessly trying to imagine how a very beautiful woman had managed to produce such an ordinary daughter. It was not the first time she’d been confronted with that particular puzzle.

“Unfortunately, I look nothing like my mother. From the pictures I’ve seen, I take after my dad’s side,” she felt compelled to explain. “Average in every way.”

“There is nothing wrong with the way you look,” Mac said gruffly.

Kara shifted uncomfortably and turned her attention to her cat, kneading his fur with gentle fingers. She had never discussed herself or her past so frankly with any man, and she suspected she’d sounded downtrodden and filled with self-pity. Which she was not! She felt a surge of anger at Mac Wilde for putting her into this unholy predicament.

Mac reacted to her silence. “Are you waiting for me to counter with a feature-by-feature rave of your face and figure?” He heaved an impatient sigh. “Look, I’ve never been one of those touchy-feely types who ooze syrupy compliments and pour on the charm. And I—”

“Obviously not,” Kara cut in tartly. “You seem extremely practical with no time or patience for anything dealing with emotion or sentiment. I guess that falls into the dreaded touchy-feely department? Well, has it occurred to you that there might be a direct correlation between your hardheadedness and your need to—to attempt to buy a wife?” She had never been so caustic or outspoken in her life, but somehow Mac brought it out in her.

Mac arched his brows. “At the risk of sounding redundant—ouch!”

He lifted his hand from the wheel to run one long finger along the length of her arm, from her shoulder to her fingertips. “The lady has claws, hmm? Just like her kitty.”

Kara shivered. Though well-protected under the heavy cotton of her sweater, her skin tingled along the path that he’d traced. “Don’t patronize me,” she growled.

“Whatever you say, sweetie.” He flashed a teasing grin.

A quivering spiral of tension coiled in her stomach. When he smiled like that, he was devastating. A fact he probably well knew, lectured a stern little voice in her head. Some cautious feminine instinct warned her that Mac Wilde was not averse to turning on the charm, should it serve his purpose.

Silence descended between them. Kara’s nerves felt stretched to the screaming point as she reviewed this decidedly bizarre situation. Mac Wilde had footed the bill for her journey and in return expected her to marry him and help him raise his four unruly nieces and nephews.

What a preposterous idea! Was he dreaming? Perhaps she’d fallen asleep on the plane and when she opened her eyes, the flight would be landing and Uncle Will would be waiting eagerly at the gate for her.

Mac, on the other hand, did not seem affected by any tension whatsoever. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he announced cheerfully. He turned up the volume and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat. “Merle Haggard. �That’s the Way Love Goes.’”

It did not go well, according to the lyrics. And Kara knew this absurd idea of his was just doomed to fail.

“I’ll repay you for the cost of my plane ticket, of course.” Kara gulped, wishing she could appear cool and controlled, but failing utterly. “I—I’m terribly sorry about the misunderstanding. This is all so embarrassing. No, it’s beyond embarrassing. It’s absolutely mortifying!”

“I don’t want to be reimbursed. I expect you to honor the terms of our agreement and marry me.”

“But we have no agreement!”

“I bought that ticket in good faith and assumed you’d accepted it and the terms offered in the same good faith.” Mac slid a glance at her.

He was surprised at how well he was able to read her already. She was confused and aghast, the better to fall for this legal spiel he was spinning. “Maybe you’re scamming me,” he accused. “Using my money for a free visit to Montana? Who can guess how much more cash you planned to wring out of me. Maybe the Rev is in cahoots with you. Find a sucker, promise him a—”

“How can you even think such a thing!” Kara cried, panic lacing her voice. “This is all just a—a terrible misunderstanding.”

“That’s what you said before. I’m not buying it, honey. I think you and the Rev tried to con me,” Mac said rather gleefully.

“We did no such thing!” Kara stared at him. That gleam in his dark eyes, that note of triumph in his voice suddenly alerted her to the possibility that Mac Wilde might be improvising. Masterfully. “You have no reason to suspect any conspiracy or wrongdoing. Or any proof, either,” she added succinctly.

“Don’t I? Then answer this question for me, Kara. If Ginny Franklin regards you as a thorn in her side, if she sees you as an unpleasant reminder of an era she is determined to forget, then why would she suddenly allow her husband to invite you to stay at their home and to pay for your ticket out here?”

Kara opened her mouth to speak, then abruptly closed it. She’d asked herself that same question when Uncle Will had first extended the invitation. But she had been so happy to be invited, she hadn’t probed any deeper. Had it been pure wishful thinking on her part, that she would at last be accepted into the Franklin family?

“You’ve never visited them out here before,” Mac went on. “The only times you’ve seen the Rev have been when he was traveling on church-related business, without Ginny and the girls. Am I correct?”

Kara gave a grudging nod.

“From the time you were a child, Ginny made it plain that she didn’t want you and your ex-stepfather to maintain your ties,” Mac continued. “The Rev told me himself that he wasn’t able to see you as much as you two would’ve liked. That was because of Ginny. Well, why should Ginny have a sudden change of heart at this late date? I happen to know that she’s not suffering from a terminal disease so she isn’t trying to set things right before she meets her Maker. The truth is, Ginny Franklin is not expecting you to stay at her house. If she even knows about your visit to Bear Creek, she’s been told that you will be with me at the Double R. As for that fantasy you concocted about the Rev buying your plane ticket—ha! Only over Ginny’s dead body.”

Kara swallowed hard. “You’re using the information I gave you against me.”

“All’s fair in love and war, baby.”

“Well, this isn’t either one. Stop this car!” Kara commanded impulsively. “I’m getting out.”

Mac laughed at that. “You plan to hitchhike back into Helena? With your luggage and that caterwauling cat?”

“Yes.”

He raised one dark brow. “Are you sure? The sun is going down and it gets pretty scary out here at night. Bears and cougars and wolves prowl along the highway. Your cat could end up being their appetizer while you serve as the main course.”

Kara tried to ignore the apprehensive chill that rippled through her. “You’re deliberately trying to scare me. I think I’m in greater danger from you than any animal predator out there. And if you don’t stop this car right now, I—I’ll jump out.”

Mac abruptly steered the Jeep off the highway, onto the wide shoulder of the road.

Kara trembled. It seemed he was about to grant her wish and let her out. A cold lump of fear settled in her stomach and expanded to fill her throat. How was she going to get back to Helena? This interstate was going in the wrong direction—she would have to hitch a ride or walk to the next exit and then make her way to the eastbound portion of the highway to hitch or walk back to the city. Tai emitted a miserable meow, and Kara stifled a sob of her own. What if there really were dangerous wild animals on the prowl out there?

“You’d better put the cat back in his carrier,” Mac advised.

Kara nodded dumbly. Tai did not go gracefully back into his hated carrier. She practically had to wrestle the cat into it, while he hissed and tried to claw her. Finally, after he was safely locked inside, Mac placed it on the back seat.

Kara reached for the door handle. “I’ll get my luggage out and take Tai last,” she said stiffly.

“That won’t be necessary.” Mac moved as swiftly as one of those animal predators he’d warned her about.

Before she realized what was happening, he’d outmaneuvered the armrests and the seat belts which restrained them, and took both her hands in his. Their knees touched, their faces were very close.

“What are you doing?” Kara’s voice rose to a squeak. She tried to snatch her hands away but his grip was too firm for her to break.

“I’ll tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not abandoning you and your cat on the highway. I would never expose you to that sort of danger, Kara.”

Kara’s heart was thundering in her chest. She was in danger right here in the Jeep! She tried frantically to recall the self-defense tips she’d heard in that lecture she had attended last year with some women from work. It had been given by a police officer who’d designed a program to teach women street smarts and safety.

Now Officer Murray’s number one piece of advice came back to her and roared in her ears. “Don’t get into a car with anyone you don’t know.” Well, she’d already blown that one. Officer Murray would be chagrined at her stupidity.

“Relax,” Mac said softly. “I can feel you trembling. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then let me go. Right now!” Was she supposed to plead for mercy or issue a command? Kara tried both, the plea followed by the order.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Kara.”

“Then why are you doing such a good job of scaring me? You let me think you’re dumping me out on the highway and then you g-grab me.”

“You demanded that I stop. You even threatened to jump out if I didn’t,” Mac reminded her. “I wasn’t about to call your bluff. Dealing with hysterical women has never been my strong suit,” he admitted wryly. “Just ask my ex-wife.”

She was immediately distracted. “You’ve been married?”

“Once. It lasted three years. We split up nearly nine years ago, so it falls into the realm of ancient history. Don’t look so shocked, Kara. Most men don’t reach the age of thirty-five without experiencing the unholy state of matrimony at least once.”

“Unholy state,” she repeated. “Since you feel that way, then why—”

“I already explained. There are four compelling reasons why.”

Tai chimed in with another commanding meow.

Mac rolled his eyes. “I led you to believe I was going to put you out of the car because I wanted that furball with claws back in his carrier so we could talk. I didn’t want him distracting you, and he’s easier to ignore in his cage.”

“Much to his outrage. Poor Tai.” Kara’s fear had already begun to dissipate, but the nervous excitement pulsing through her had heightened and intensified. She felt his thumb glide over the sensitive skin of her wrist, then move upward to stroke her palm. The small gesture was sensual and provocative and her whole body responded to it with a strong swift surge of desire.

“You agree that we do need to talk before we go any farther?”

She drew a sharp breath. “I—I agree,” she murmured, trying to regain her bearings. “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience and expense you’ve had to—”

“Forget about that,” Mac ordered. “Let’s cut to the chase, Kara. I know this whole situation is a bit unorthodox. I mean, out West mail-order brides have gone the way of the Pony Express and the Wells Fargo Wagon, yet here we are....”

“Mail-order bride? Is that what I’m supposed to be?” She could not suppress the bubble of laughter welling up inside her.

“Yeah, I know. It sounds ridiculous. I laughed too, when the Rev first suggested it.” Mac smiled wryly. He sobered almost instantly, his dark eyes intense. “But I’ve come to believe it’s a damn good idea.” His eyes slid over her. “Now that I’ve met you, it seems like an even better one.”

“Oh, please!” Kara swept an agitated hand through her hair, tousling it. “It’s bad enough that you think I’m so desperate for a man that I would hightail it out to Montana to marry a stranger who paid for my fare. Don’t make things even worse by pretending to be attracted to me.”

“Who says I’m pretending?” His voice grew deeper. “I am attracted to you.”

“You’re playing some kind of role. Saying things you think I’d like to hear.” Kara swallowed hard. Depressingly enough, she realized that she liked hearing him say he found her attractive, even though she knew he couldn’t mean it.

She straightened her spine, holding her head high, as she steeled herself against his insidious virile charm. “You must think I’m downright pathetic if you expect me to believe that you could possibly—”

“Enough about me,” Mac cut in. “Let’s talk about you. I think you’re attracted to me, too, Kara. A little scared of me, maybe, but definitely attracted.” With one deft move, he slipped his hands to her waist, and gripping her, easily lifted her out of her seat and onto his lap. “So let’s work on eliminating the fear and heightening the attraction.”

Kara gasped a protest. “No, Mac!”

Mac grinned, settling her more deeply into his lap, his arms fastening around her like steel bands. “Let’s work on changing that into, �Oh, Mac!’”

He held her fast against the hard male planes of his body, making her fully aware of his muscular strength. And of something else. There was no mistaking the blatant arousal of his body. Kara’s stunned eyes locked with his intense, knowing ones.

“I told you I was attracted to you.” Mac lightly touched his mouth to hers.

“I—I’m not as gullible as you seem to think,” Kara whispered. It was difficult to talk and even harder to think. His lips were nibbling at hers, their breaths mingling. “I know I’m not the type to inspire instant lust—”

“You’re not?” Mac traced the shape of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, until she unconsciously parted her lips. “Well, I don’t see anyone else here but you, baby. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Probably that you’ve been in a—a state of deprivation and that any woman would turn you on.” Kara squirmed on his lap and made a feeble effort to free herself. Her cheeks burned with shame. She was well aware of how very slight her attempts to escape from his lap actually were.

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” His voice was husky and hypnotizing. “You’re the one who inspired my case of instant lust. You, Kara.”

His warm hand closed over her breast. There was nothing alarming or demanding in his touch, no heavy-handed possession. He caressed her gently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to touch her there, to learn the feminine shape of her body.

Kara’s breathing became deeper and heavier. He was seducing her and she knew it. Knew it, and was falling hard and fast. She’d never been exposed to an experienced man’s advances. Her dates had been with quiet young men as unsure and reserved as she was; passion had never been a remote possibility. In D.C., confident, good-looking, assertive men like Mac never gave her a second glance, let alone gazed at her with intense dark eyes while murmuring how sexy she was. Never had she been lifted onto a hard male lap while his mouth and hands aroused this hot, melting sensation that made her close her eyes and wriggle closer to him, helpless in the mounting throes of ardor.

Mac let his mouth wander to her cheeks, then along the curve of her jawline to her ear, where his teeth nipped sensuously on the lobe. “Your skin is so soft,” he marveled. “Beautiful and creamy soft.” He was nibbling on her neck now, and his hand made a bold foray under her sweater. “I want to see more. I want to taste you, feel you.”

With a slow, sure touch he slipped his hand inside her bra, his fingers gliding deeper into the cup to caress her already taut nipple.

“Mac, no!” Kara cried frantically, unnerved by the flooding warmth surging through her body. The sensual heat spread like wildfire through her veins, from wherever his lips and fingers touched her. The most secret intimate part of her felt unaccustomedly swollen and achy and embarrassingly wet.

“No?” Mac reluctantly removed his hand from beneath her sweater. “Am I going too fast for you, sweetie?”

She pressed her thighs together, trying to suppress the too-exciting pleasure he had evoked.

“W-Way too fast. After all, we just met.” Yet she couldn’t summon the willpower necessary to get off his lap and return to her own seat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, making her achingly aware of his powerful muscular strength.

“True. But we’re not bound by any stupid traditional courtship rules.” Mac’s hands slid down her back to cup the roundness of her bottom, his fingers kneading the firm softness there as he lifted her still closer.

“That’s what’s so great about this whole deal, honey. We’re spared the getting-to-know-you games, the who’s-going-to-make-the-next-move strategies, the is-it-too-soon-for-sex conundrum, the commitment worries. We’re already beyond all that, even though we just met. We know what the outcome is—we’re going to be married. There is no purpose in holding back—or holding out.”

His voice was soft and warmly reassuring. As he talked, his hands grew bolder and more insistent. He caressed the backs of her thighs with long sweeping strokes, the tips of his fingers moving toward her inner thighs with leisurely smoothness. Instinctively, her legs parted, and he began to trace erotic circles, his fingers moving higher toward the place that burned and throbbed for him.

Kara’s pulse was racing wildly. The raw sexuality of his caresses blitzed her natural inhibition and reserve and common sense, the three hallmarks of her personality. She was reeling with pleasure, unable to control the shooting streaks of desire burning through her.

“Kiss me,” Mac growled huskily, but he didn’t wait for her to comply to his sensual command. He cupped her chin in his hand, angling her mouth to meet the hot hard slant of his.

There was nothing hesitant or tentative about the way his mouth took hers. His lips parted hers easily and his tongue penetrated the moist hollow of her mouth, as he moved to secure her more firmly against him. One hand fastened in her hair to hold her head, the other continued to glide over the curves of her body with slow enticing strokes.

The kiss deepened and grew longer, more intimate. She had never been kissed with such mastery, such fierce hunger. Dazed and dizzied, Kara had neither the control nor experience nor sophistication to hold back her response. She was throbbing everywhere, her whole body flushed and heated with the sensual fire Mac had kindled and set blazing.

Kara felt as if she were drowning in a wild, thrilling whirlpool of sensations. She moved restlessly, clinging to him and trying to get even closer. She was aching with an urgency and an emptiness she had never before experienced, a force which could not be ignored. Sensuality pumped through her body like a potent drug; she felt as high as Montana’s Big Sky.

And then suddenly, unexpectedly and most unwelcomely, the sharp ring of a telephone sounded, blasting through the sensuous cocoon enveloping them, with the force of a gunshot.

“Damn!” Mac muttered, lifting his mouth from hers. His hands stilled on her body. “This is the downside of car phones. Back in the good old days, you couldn’t be reached when you decided to do a little parking.”

The car phone rang again. The sound offended Tai who had momentarily ceased his meowing, and he voiced his protest with another screeching cry.

Kara whimpered softly as Mac set her away from him. Her body roiled in a turmoil of frustration and thwarted need. It was as if she had become instantly addicted to his touch and was now undergoing the physical deprivations of withdrawal.

“Yes, this really is Uncle Mac, Autumn,” Mac said into the phone. “No, I’m not some bad guy pretending to be him. It’s okay that you called me, Autumn. That’s why we have the car-phone number written down beside the phone, so you can get in touch if you need to.”

Mac’s voice filtered through Kara’s shell-shocked haze. As she began to slowly regain her composure, she noticed that Mac appeared to be quite collected. He seemed to have pulled himself together with remarkable haste. Embarrassingly remarkable haste.

While her mind was still awhirl, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone phrases, Mac was conversing with his young niece as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Maybe it hadn’t, not for him.

The nasty possibility seemed too obvious to ignore. Maybe a heavy make-out session in his Jeep was strictly routine for him. While she had lost her head, made mindless and helpless under the potent spell of his sexual expertise, he had remained in complete control. He couldn’t have recovered himself so quickly and so completely if he’d been as far gone as she, Kara was certain of that.

“She what?” Mac’s voice rose to a shout. “Autumn, put Webb on the— He what? Oh, great!” The way he said it left no doubt that he considered the opposite to be true. “Just great!”

Kara dared to glance at him. He didn’t appear collected now; he was clearly agitated.

“Autumn, I’ll make a deal with you. If you and Clay sit quietly in front of the television set until I get back, I’ll order you whatever you want from the toy catalog. “Yeah, the Christmas Wish Book. One thing apiece. But remember, for the deal to be valid, you and Clay can’t fight and neither of you can move from in front of the TV.”

He replaced the receiver and restarted the engine, flooring the gas pedal. The Jeep roared back onto the highway in a burst of speed. Mac was scowling. There wasn’t a trace of the sexy, seductive lover evident in his grim expression.

Kara nervously twisted her fingers. She felt as if she were on an emotional merry-go-round—first up, then down, going round and round, giving her no time to adjust or maintain any sort of equilibrium.

The silence was getting to her. As long as it was quiet, she was free to reflect on her shockingly abandoned response to Mac. And that, of course, led to thoughts of his response to her. He’d been hungry and impassioned, but turned cool and controlled immediately, as if a switch had been thrown. The implications of that made Kara cringe.

“I guess...something’s going on at the ranch?” she ventured. “With the kids?” Talking to Mac was better than sitting here agonizing over their earlier hot scene.

“Something’s always going on with those kids,” Mac growled. “Autumn called to tell me that the sheriff picked Lily up in a bar just outside Bear Creek, a place called the Rustler. There’s a pool table and darts and a jukebox there. The patrons are hardworking, hard-drinking cowboys who don’t mind a good fight when things get dull.”

“And women aren’t welcome there?”

“Oh, there are women who go to the Rustler. But they’re either good ol’ gals or women who are not looking—” He paused and cleared his throat.

“For a committed relationship?” Kara asked tactfully.

A slight smile creased Mac’s face. “Something like that. It is definitely not a place for seventeen-year-old schoolgirls,” he added, his expression turning dour. “My ranch manager drove over there to bring Lily home. That means Autumn and Clay are alone again.”

“Thus, your bribe.”

“You don’t approve of bribing kids?” Mac demanded testily.

“Well, I—”

“I can’t risk trying out any fancy child-rearing theories from this distance. I have to rely on what works. And promising toys and candy is the most successful ploy I’ve got. It’s also the only one,” he added glumly.

“If you bribe the two little ones with toys and candy, what do you use to bribe the older kids?” Kara asked.

“Nothing. You can’t buy them. Brick and Lily do as they please.” Mac heaved a groan. “Sometimes I think it’s too late, that they’re already destined to be future career-criminals. I mean, the kids have always been brats. Their parents considered themselves free spirits, who �didn’t believe in restraining kids’ natural curiosity and exuberance with rules and restrictions.’ That’s a direct quote from my sister-in-law, Linda. I heard her say it so often, it’s emblazoned on my brain. And my brother bought into that, though we certainly weren’t raised with the complete freedom Reid and Linda were determined to give their kids.”

“It seems to me that children want some limits,” Kara murmured. “Complete freedom would be terrifying. There should be certain boundaries to make kids feel secure.”

“I agree with you completely.” Mac smiled, his relief evident. He reached over to lay his hand on her knee. “We’re going to be a good team, I can tell. Have I thanked you for coming out here, Kara? I am so grateful that you’re willing to—”

“I don’t want your gratitude,” Kara interrupted quickly. “I haven’t agreed to anything, yet.” She deliberately crossed her legs in an attempt to dislodge his hand. He took the hint and removed it.

His words stung her. His gratitude seared even more deeply. He was grateful she was here to rescue him from the solitary burden of dealing with his nieces and nephews. He was so grateful to her that he was willing to pretend an attraction to her, to kiss her and arouse her...

Was that his plan? Throw some sexual crumbs to the desperate old maid and she’d be so thrilled and appreciative that she’d be unable to resist him and his plans for her? Kara winced.

Mac tried to interpret her expression. Stubborn, sad or mad? Or a little of each? He wished he knew her better, wondered if he should keep pushing or back off. After some consideration, he decided to give her the space she seemed to want. For a while.

He decided a neutral topic of conversation would be in order.

“Tell me about your job,” he said conversationally. “The Rev said you work for the—uh—department of...um...” He racked his brain but couldn’t come up with the name of the department. He had not been particularly interested in her place of employment, which would soon be in her past. “The government,” he amended.

“I’m a statistician with the Department of Commerce.” Kara didn’t bother to add that she had less than thirty days left before her position there was terminated, that she was taking her vacation this week rather than lose it.

She hadn’t told Uncle Will about her pending unemployment, either, not wanting to spoil their time together with her job woes. Now she was inordinately relieved she hadn’t said anything. Let them believe she was too dedicated to her career to be a proper mail-order bride.

“A statistician?” Mac mulled that one over. “Then you must be good with numbers.”

“I—uh—always did well in math,” she confessed rather reluctantly. She well remembered that females with a prowess for mathematics were hardly the romantic ideal, at least not among the young men she’d known through her school years.

“Great!” exclaimed Mac. Was he unaware of the stigma against numerically gifted women? “You can do our taxes. That’s my annual nightmare. And then there’s the matter of the children’s trust funds, set up for them by their parents’ insurance policy...another numbers headache I’ll gladly cede to you. And you can do the books for the ranch and handle the budget.”

“I—”

“Oh-oh, there I go again. Making presumptions.” Mac tried to look penitent. “I mean, of course, if you decide to stay, you’ll be taking over those chores.” He tried to sound as if he wasn’t sure she would be staying on as his wife.

Kara eyed him. That smarmy tone of his reminded her of the fairy tale where the Big Bad Wolf tried to convince the hapless Little Pigs on the other side of the door that he was harmless and innocent.

“I’m going to take Tai out of his carrier,” she announced. The cat’s vocal protests over his confinement were a welcome diversion to her, a note of reality in this astonishingly unreal scenario she seemed to have landed in.

“Good idea,” Mac agreed amiably. He was smiling, lost in his own thoughts. For the price of a one-way plane ticket, he was getting a sexually desirable wife, a caretaker for the kids and a math whiz! A very good return on his initial investment, despite the presence of the noisy spoiled cat as part of the package.

“Nice kitty,” he murmured, reaching over to pet the cat who’d settled himself on Kara’s lap with a disgruntled meow.

Tai tried to bite his hand.

“He’s nervous around strangers,” Kara half explained, half apologized.

“Not to worry. He’ll have plenty of time to get to know me.” Mac would’ve liked to rest his hand on her leg, perhaps even link his fingers with hers. It seemed a romantic gesture that she would like, and it would set the possessive aura he wished to convey.

But Tai’s less-than-amiable disposition and sharp white teeth precluded that.

“Did I mention that Reverend Will’s oldest daughter, Tricia, is severely allergic to cats?” Mac asked casually. “The reason I know is because the Rev and Ginny bought her a cat for her birthday several years ago, and poor Tricia ended up in the hospital emergency room with a serious allergy attack. The Rev pleaded from the pulpit the next Sunday for somebody in the congregation to please give the cat a home because the Franklins couldn’t keep it. There were several offers and a happy ending to the story. The cat got a new family and Tricia got a pet bird.”

“You’re making that up!” Kara accused.

“Now why would I do that? I was just providing you with some essential information.”

“You’re implying that Tai won’t be able to stay at the Franklins’ house with me!” Kara’s hazel eyes widened with apprehension, despite her doubts about his credibility.

“Oh, he won’t be. That’s a given,” Mac assured her.

What if it were true? It occurred to Kara that she hadn’t asked Uncle Will if she could bring Tai. She’d assumed he would know the cat would be coming along with her. After all, her former stepfather was well aware of Tai’s existence; she mentioned him several times in every letter she wrote. There were times when Tai and his feline antics were more interesting than anything going on in her own life!

“But I want you to know that Tai is welcome to stay at the ranch, even if you decide to stay in town with the Rev,” Mac offered, sounding for all the world like a Boy Scout bent on doing a good deed. “Of course, leaving him by himself in a strange place with a household of strangers could definitely be traumatic for such a sensitive cat. He might suffer long-lasting emotional scars.”

“As if you care!” Kara flared. “You just want to make me—”

“Yeah,” Mac cut in, a devilish grin lighting his face. “That’s right, I do.”

It took Kara a moment to catch on, her experience with suggestive banter being practically nonexistent. She flushed scarlet and fell silent.

For the remainder of the drive, conversation was desultory and always initiated by Mac. There wasn’t much to see in the darkness, but Mac commented on the terrain, the mountain peaks towering to the sky and promised a view of breathtaking fall scenery during the daylight hours. He told her a little about the history of the area and some Wilde family history, as well.

The Double R Ranch, whose brand was two R’s back-to-back, had been owned by the Wildes for four generations, passing from father to son.

“It was an easy tradition for the first three generations because each family had only one son, along with some daughters who were not eligible to inherit the ranch,” Mac explained. “Then my dad and mother had three sons, Reid, James and me. Crisis! Who’d get the ranch? It ended up being me because I loved the place and wanted to stay here. Reid headed for Southern California, and James to the world of academia. My dad signed over the ranch to me ten years ago, not long after Mother died. Dad lives in Scottsdale, Arizona now and is the sought-after bachelor in senior citizen circles.”

Kara listened attentively. “So you got the ranch and your brothers got nothing?” She had no siblings of her own but could imagine the hard feelings such partiality must engender.

Mac nodded. “Reid didn’t care, he’d married into money. James was resentful. He thought Dad should give him some sort of cash equivalent, but Dad refused to even consider it. He told James that he’d paid for his education, that James was earning a comfortable living as a college professor and the ranch was for the Wilde son who’d live and work there. End of story.”

“Does James still feel cheated?”

“Of course. James thrives on collecting injustices done to him. Reid’s kids made a major contribution to his collection. Don’t count on him or Eve coming out for our wedding,” he added dryly.

Kara was not about to touch that bait. “Well, I think it’s terribly unfair that all the Wilde daughters were automatically cut out and not even given a choice if they wanted to live and work on the ranch,” she said instead, in defense of her own sex. “It’s downright medieval.”

Mac nodded. “Yeah, my aunts weren’t too pleased. Neither were their aunts. But that’s tradition for you.”

“No, that’s stupid, sexist tradition for you,” Kara retorted. “If I had a daughter—”

“Hopefully, we will,” Mac interjected. “Along with the requisite Wilde male heir, of course.”

Kara ignored him. “If I had a daughter, she would split any inheritance evenly with her brother. There would never be a single doubt about that.”

Talking about her and Mac’s hypothetical children was entirely too provocative a subject. She felt edgy and belligerent, needful to keep him at bay.

“We’re jumping the gun here, honey,” Mac drawled. “After you meet Reid’s kids, you may opt for immediate sterilization.”

“They can’t be as bad as you say,” Kara insisted, feeling the need to disagree with anything he said.

“You’re right—they’re even worse.” Mac turned off the main highway, onto a dirt road. “The house is a few miles ahead. Prepare yourself for the onslaught.”




Three


The headlights of the Jeep lighted the gravelly road leading to the ranch house. Kara saw clusters of tall, thick evergreens horseshoed on three sides of the house—to protect it from the sweep of blustery winter winds, according to Mac. The house itself was a sprawling stone-and-wood one-story structure with a wide porch spanning the front.

Lights blazed from every window, illuminating the landscaped bushes, shrubs and small ornamental trees surrounding the paved stone walk leading from the circular drive to the front door.

“Home, sweet home,” Mac said drolly. “I can hear the welcoming cacophony already.”

He was exaggerating, of course. From the confines of the car, Kara could hear nothing at all. The apprehension that had been gnawing at her for miles erupted into a surging force. She was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the only person she knew in the state of Montana! And she was about to face a tribe of brats, so monstrous that their own blood relative was willing to marry a perfect stranger in an attempt to cope with them.

She turned to Mac, feeling as desperate as he must have felt when he’d shelled out the money for her plane ticket. She couldn’t spend the night in his home! The idea of such intimacy sparked a nerve-tingling anxiety that was one part fear and three parts excitement. Oddly, the excitement was more disturbing than the fear.

“Mac, please, I—I can’t do this. Please, please take me to Uncle Will’s tonight.”

Mac studied her face, which was a picture of distress. Her enormous hazel eyes were filled with tears, her lips were quivering. “You make me feel like a rat,” he murmured. “Scaring a pretty young woman, making her cry. Damn, I am a rat!”

He reached out to trace the sensual curve of her warm full lips. Remembering the feel of that sweet mouth under his and remembering her immediate and passionate responses to him caused a tightening ache in his loins.

“I—I’m not crying,” Kara protested, but her voice quavered. She lifted her hand to remove his from her mouth. His touch was unsettling, exciting. She craved it as much as she feared it.

Mac succeeding in interlacing her fingers with his. She watched, wide-eyed, as he brought her hand to his cheek and held it there. His skin was slightly stubbled and sensually abrasive to her already overcharged senses.

Her heart jumped. She had to get away from him before...before... Kara trembled. “I—I just want to—”

“I know, I know,” he soothed. “You’ve been very brave, considering the way you were caught off guard by—uh—the plan. You’ve been a helluva good sport, Kara. I’m sorry you’re upset. Damn, I’m worse than a rat, I’m a flea on a rat for upsetting you.”

“It isn’t really your fault,” Kara acknowledged charitably. “Uncle Will should have told me the whole story right from the start. Then we would have been spared this unfortunate mis—”

“—understanding,” Mac chimed in.

Their eyes met and they smiled at each other. Once again, her smile had a peculiar effect on him. Mac felt a possessive urgency shoot through him. He wanted her. He certainly hadn’t expected to be aroused by his mail-order bride, but for the children’s sake—and his own—he’d been prepared to be a proper husband. It was a wonderful surprise to find himself attracted to her.

And it bolstered his determination to proceed with his plan.

“I’ll take you into town to the Rev’s place,” Mac said silkily. “But first, I’d like to check on the kids. See if Webb’s back yet. He ought to be by now. See if they’ve killed each other yet. Will you come inside while I do a body count?”

Relief flowed through her. There was no reason for her to be anxious and fearful, Mac was not going to force her to stay. He was a reasonable man, not a threatening one. Her fears had been for naught. A body count? His sardonic edge made her grin.

Calmer now, she had no problem granting his very reasonable request. “Of course I don’t mind waiting while you check on the children.”

Mac smiled his satisfaction. He had no intention of driving her back into town, though he didn’t know how he was going to get out of it, having just promised to do so. Well, he’d cross that bridge when the time came. Right now, he was elated that she’d agreed to come into the house. That was a major victory. Forcing her inside definitely would’ve been a tactical error.

He gazed into Kara’s warm, trust-filled eyes. She’d wholeheartedly believed his promise to take her into town. Had he called himself a flea on a rat? Mac decided that he was something even lower, which would probably make him a plague-carrying flea on a rat.

“Thank you, Mac,” Kara said warmly. “And don’t worry, I’m sure the children are getting along just fine.”

“I bet you believe the weather predictions in the Farmer’s Almanac, too.”

She chuckled appreciatively. “Meanwhile, I’ll call Uncle Will and tell him where I am and when I’ll be arriving at his house.” She made no reference to his claim regarding Tricia’s allergy to cats; she still wasn’t sure she believed him on that one. It was just a little too convenient for his purpose.

“Good idea. Call the Rev.” Mac got out of the Jeep and came around to open the passenger door for her, every inch the chivalrous gentleman. He even took her arm and helped her climb out. His fingers lingered, rubbing from her shoulder to her elbow, then sliding along to take her hand. He raised it to his lips, lightly brushing her fingertips. “Welcome to the Double R, Kara,” he said, smiling into her eyes.

Kara’s knees felt strangely weak. She was lost in his deep, dark eyes.

“Shall we bring the cat inside?” Mac asked solicitously.

It took a moment or two for his words to penetrate the dreamy cloud enveloping her. “Y-Yes, maybe he’d better come in. Even a few minutes alone out there would be too terrifying for Tai.”

“My thoughts, exactly.” Mac dropped her hand and reached for the cat carrier.

He and Kara walked onto the porch, Tai’s meows announcing their every step.

The door was unlocked. Mac pushed it open and Kara followed him inside.

They entered a room-size entry hall, its hardwood floor well-scuffed by foot traffic. The walls were painted a creamy beige, rather dull but functional. At the end of the vestibule, the hall narrowed to a passageway, leading to other parts of the house.

Kara looked around her. To the left was a closed door. A bit farther down, on the same side, she caught a glimpse into the dining room. A massive breakfront and long rectangular table almost filled the room.

To the right was an enormous room, a combination living room and den, dominated by a big granite fireplace. Above the fireplace was mounted the head of a moose. A baseball cap hung jauntily from one of its antlers. There was a wall of windows which undoubtedly offered a spectacular view during the daylight hours, although all that was visible now was the vast blackness of the night sky. The other walls were paneled with a dark wood, giving the room the feel of a rustic, oversize cabin.

A young boy and girl lay on big bright floor cushions in front of a large-screen television set. Neither child looked up when Mac and Kara entered. Not even Tai’s indignant howls drew a glance from them.

“There are Clay and Autumn,” Mac murmured. “They love TV. It’s the one thing that can keep them occupied for hours. I bought a satellite dish after they moved in so they could always find something to watch. We’ve seen everything from Mexican soap operas to rugby meets in Australia.”

He’d bought a satellite dish after the kids had arrived to keep them entertained? Kara pondered that one. Though she made no claims as an expert in child psychology, incessant TV-watching didn’t strike her as an ideal way to spend a childhood. What about reading and playing indoors and out, what about activities with other kids?

But Mac sounded sincerely proud of his efforts to keep the children happy. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that round-the-clock viewing, however diverse, might not be in their best interest.

“What are they watching now?” Kara asked, wondering which nation could be held accountable for the pandemonium currently roaring on the screen.

A number of very scantily clad young women were running in circles screaming, while a gang of menacing young toughs in black leather terrorized them. It was a veritable festival of blood and mayhem, and Clay and Autumn watched raptly.

“Hey, kids, what’s on?” asked Mac.

“A really good movie,” young Clay replied, without turning his attention from the set. “Biker Vampires Go To College.”

“Ah, an educational film,” Mac remarked dryly.

“The biker vampires got into the sorority house and hid in the attic till nighttime,” Autumn explained. “When I go to college, I’m keeping a cross and some holy water right beside my bed, just in case. Ohhh!” She hid her face in the pillow as one particularly graphic scene flashed across the screen.

“Won’t that give them nightmares?” Kara murmured. “It’s so gory, it’s sort of making me queasy.”

“It’s just fake blood,” Clay piped up reassuringly. “There aren’t any real vampires.”

“Sometimes real killers pretend to be vampires and drink people’s blood, though,” Autumn interjected with relish.

Mac winced. “Turn that off and come here and meet Kara. She’s a—uh—a friend of mine.”

When neither child moved to do his bidding, Mac crossed the room and switched off the set. Two small scowling faces turned to Kara. Clay’s was covered with drying, crusting lesions which had been swabbed with some pinkish lotion.

“Did I mention that Clay is recovering from chicken pox?” Mac asked a little too heartily. “He was out of school all last week, and will probably have to miss most or all of this week, too.”

“And you need someone to stay with him while you’re working,” Kara surmised. No wonder he was desperate! Poor Mac had been cooped up with a sick child for a week and was facing the prospect of still another. She was beginning to understand his impulsive action in sending for a wife candidate. She felt genuine sympathy for his plight, but that was certainly not grounds for marriage!




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