Beneath The Texas Moon. Elle James
perfect track of tiny shoe treads was set in the limestone dust.
“Is that your print, Joey?” Eve smiled at her son.
His head bobbed, and he pointed to the indentations next to his shoe print.
“What is it?” Eve asked.
“A deer track.” Mac stood and brushed his hands along the sides of his jeans.
Eve’s heart stirred. Mac had been showing Joey how to read tracks in the dirt. It was one of those man-things she would never have thought to teach her son. She frowned. This was the first time she’d considered how much Joey would miss by not having a father in his life. But a father was totally different from a stepfather. A father usually cared. Although, Joey’s father had cared more for his dogs than his son. The odds were even worse with a stepfather. Hers hadn’t cared, and he’d proven it over and over.
She straightened and looked up into Mac’s eyes, immediately wishing she hadn’t. This man had an effect on her, and she wasn’t so sure she liked it.
“If you’re through with my foreman, we have livestock to tend.” His voice was low and resonant.
Assimilating his words, Eve looked up and repeated, “Livestock? What kind of livestock?”
“Cattle and goats. One of our breeder nannies disappeared some time over the past two days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.
Mac shrugged and rubbed a hand over Joey’s head. “See ya later, big guy. Bet if you look around, you’ll find more tracks.”
Joey hugged Mac around the kneecaps, and not two seconds later, he darted across the yard, stopping every two or three steps to check the ground.
Eve smiled at Mac. “I’m impressed.”
A frown settled between his eyes. “About what?”
“I haven’t seen Joey this carefree in months.” Eve swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thanks.”
“He’s a great kid.” Mac’s gaze followed her son around the yard.
“I’m ready when you are.” Daniel said as he sauntered over to the corner where Mac and Eve stood. He smiled and nodded toward Eve. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.” The foreman climbed into the truck.
As Mac turned to follow, Joey raced up and grabbed his hand, tugging him back toward the house.
“I have to go now, Joey,” Mac said. But he allowed the child to drag him a few more feet.
Joey pointed at a dry patch of dirt, and then looked up at the cowboy.
“Another track?” Mac squatted next to him. “Looks like a dog’s print.”
Joey’s little body stiffened, and his glance darted from side to side as if he expected to see the dog. Then he spun and raced for the house.
Mac straightened and planted his hat on his head.
“Don’t worry.” Eve said. “He’ll get over it.”
Mac frowned down at the track. “Do you own a dog?”
“No,” Eve answered. “Why?”
“This track is recent and fairly large.”
“I heard an animal howl last night and it sounded pretty close.” That eerie sound had echoed in her head until the wee hours. “Do you think it was the same one that left the print?”
“Most likely. You might want to keep an eye out for it.”
“Do you think it could be dangerous?” A trickle of fear edged into her belly.
“Any strange animal could be dangerous. Wild animals usually don’t stray close to town, but with you being on the edge, they don’t always know the boundaries.”
Mac nodded toward the house where Joey stood behind the porch rail, staring through the slats. “Just keep an eye out.” He climbed in beside Daniel and the truck rumbled away.
Eve stared down at the dog track. Despite the heat of the Texas sun beating its late morning rays through the breaks in the clouds, goose bumps rose on her arms.
She shook back her concerns and took off for the house and the mountains of work awaiting her.
On the porch, she gathered Joey in her arms and hugged him close, inhaling his little-boy scent of dust and baby shampoo.
As she reached for the doorknob, the roar of an engine drew her attention back to the driveway, and she glanced up, half hoping Mac and his foreman had forgotten something. Instead of a truck, a shiny black Lexus pulled into the yard.
A man dressed in a gray suit stepped out of the car, brushing the fabric of his jacket smooth of wrinkles. Although of similar height and build to Mac McGuire, this man was strikingly handsome in a polished way, unlike Mac’s rough exterior. His pale blue-gray eyes shown beneath sooty black brows and hair sprinkled with gray. Yet, despite the gray, he appeared to be about thirty.
He smiled, his grin engaging. He looked every bit the confident and successful businessman. “Ms. Baxter?”
“That’s me.” Eve returned his smile.
“Hi, I’m Clint Logan, mayor of Spirit Canyon.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to our little town.”
Eve shifted Joey onto one arm and reached out to shake the mayor’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Clint enveloped her hand in both of his and squeezed, holding on longer than necessary for a simple handshake.
Eve shrugged it off as the typical politician. When he finally let go, she rubbed her hand down the side of her jeans and stepped back, inserting a little distance.
With his cheek pressed against her neck, Joey clutched the front of her shirt.
“As the mayor, I like to welcome new members of our community. I make it a habit to get to know all my constituents on a personal basis.”
Eve’s mouth quirked up on one side. “In a town the size of Spirit Canyon, that can’t be too hard.”
“True.” Clint chuckled. “I hear you’re helping with the Harvest Festival preparations. Did Addie strong-arm you into it?”
Defensive of her new friend, Eve hurried to reassure him, “No, no. I’m looking forward to helping. Addie said it would be an opportunity to meet some of the other people in the county.”
“I’m sure a pretty lady like you won’t have any problems meeting people. Folks love newcomers. Shoot, they welcomed me with open arms not five years ago, fresh out of law school.”
“So, you’re not a native of Spirit Canyon?” Eve asked.
“No, unfortunately. I’m from farther south, down by the border, outside Laredo.”
“That’s very impressive to be elected mayor after living here only five years.”
“I think I got voted in because no one else wanted the job,” he said with a wry grin.
Eve smiled. Clint was charming and good to look at. A very polished businessman. Quite a contrast to Mac McGuire.
“What are your plans, now that you’re here?” he asked her. “Do you need a job?”
“No.” She waved a hand toward the two-story house with the sagging porch. “I’m hoping to turn the old house into a bed and breakfast.”
“That’s wonderful.” Clint clapped his hands together. “The town could use a new bed and breakfast. Why don’t we discuss your business plans over dinner? Perhaps I can give you some pointers, maybe even some legal advice on how to get started.”
Eve hadn’t expected a dinner invitation and she stammered