A Texan on Her Doorstep Read online

  “From the first moment we met, I’ve been wondering something about you.”

  Ileana tried not to shiver as his gaze trailed over her face. “What is that?” she asked, unaware that her own voice had dropped to a husky whisper.“How you would look—like this.”

  With one smooth movement, Mac’s hand moved to the back of her head and released the barrette holding her hair. The silky tresses spilled onto her shoulders and tumbled against her cheeks.

  She tried to make herself step back, to admonish him for being so forward and impertinent, but all she managed to do was stand paralyzed and breathless as his long fingers pushed into her hair.

  Dear Reader,

  Years ago, when the seed of the Murdock family first entered my head, I never imagined that the TWINS ON THE DOORSTEP would grow from a trilogy into a series, or that those characters would remain firmly entrenched in my heart even to this day. What fun it was for me to watch them age, marry and have children of their own! But eventually I had to leave Lincoln County, New Mexico, and move on to other places and stories.

  You can’t imagine my thrill when my editor asked me to go back and revisit the Murdock clan as part of Special Edition’s FAMOUS FAMILIES promotion. It was like going home again. And how opportune for that one daughter I’d left behind. Her twin siblings have always stolen the show while she’s contented herself with living in their shadow. She’s not expecting to ever find love. But when a Texas deputy comes to town with an agenda of his own, their lives are changed forever. I hope you enjoy Ileana and Mac’s story, and please come back again as my MEN OF THE WEST story brings new faces and old friends together.

  Happy trails and God bless!

  Stella Bagwell

  STELLA BAGWELL

  A Texan on Her Doorstep

  Books by Stella Bagwell

  Men of the WestSilhouette Special Edition

  Should Have Been Her Child #1570His Defender #1582

  Her Texas Ranger #1622

  *† A Baby on the Ranch #1648

  Redwing’s Lady #1695

  From Here to Texas #1700

  Taming a Dark Horse #1709

  A South Texas Christmas #1789

  The Rancher’s Request #1802

  The Best Catch in Texas #1814

  Having the Cowboy’s Baby #1828

  Her Texas Lawman #1911

  Hitched to the Horseman #1923

  The Christmas She Always Wanted #1935

  Cowboy to the Rescue #194

  *† A Texan on Her Doorstep #1959

  Twins on the Doorstep

  Silhouette Romance

  The Sheriff’s Son #1218The Rancher’s Bride #1224

  The Tycoon’s Tots #1228

  The Rancher’s Blessed Event #1296

  The Ranger and the Widow Woman #1314

  The Cowboy and the Debutante #1334

  Millionaire on Her Doorstep #1368

  Special Edition

  Penny Parker’s Pregnant #1258

  Silhouette Books

  A Bouquet of Babies “Baby on Her Doorstep”

  Midnight Clear “Twins under the Tree”

  STELLA BAGWELL

  has written close to seventy novels for Silhouette Books. She credits her longevity in the business to her loyal readers and hopes her stories have brightened their lives in some small way.A cowgirl through and through, she loves to watch old Westerns, and has recently learned how to rope a steer by the horns and the feet. Her days begin and end helping her husband care for a beloved herd of horses on their little ranch located on the South Texas coast. When she’s not ropin’ and ridin’, you’ll find her at her desk, creating her next tale of love.

  The couple have a son, who is a high school math teacher and athletic coach.

  To my brother Lloyd Henry Cook,

  who always insisted I could be anything I wanted to be.

  And to my brother Charles Cook, who pushed me

  to send off my first manuscript. Without either of you,

  I wouldn’t be a writer today. I love you guys

  and thank you for believing in your sister.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  T he worn, yellowed envelopes bound with twine had been placed on Phineas McCleod’s kitchen table more than an hour ago; yet he’d not touched them. Nor had his brother, Ripp. Both men had skirted around the stack of papers as though they were a coiled rattlesnake.

  For the past several months, Mac, the nickname everyone called Phineas, and Ripp had searched for any trail of their mother, Frankie, who’d walked out on the family nearly thirty years ago. And up until yesterday, when Oscar Andrews, an old family acquaintance of the McCleods, had appeared on Ripp’s doorstep with letters addressed to his late mother, Betty Jo, their searching had gone in vain.Now, because of the letters exchanged between Betty Jo and Frankie, the brothers had more than clues. They had an address, a definite place to look for Frankie McCleod. Yet strangely neither of them was eager to race to the spot or even read the letters. Doubts about the search for her had settled like silt in the bottom of a wash pan.

  Now, as Mac roamed aimlessly around his modest kitchen, he glanced over at his younger brother. Since Ripp had arrived an hour ago, he’d done little more than stare out the window. Obviously, learning about the existence of Frankie’s letters had shaken him. Hell, it had done more than shake Mac; it had practically knocked him to his knees. Two deputy sheriffs, who’d faced all sorts of danger, were now jolted by the idea of seeing a woman who had been out of their lives for twenty-nine years.

  “One of us has to go to this ranch and meet with her, Ripp, and it should be me,” Mac said. “You have a family now. A wife, a son and a baby daughter. They need you at home. I don’t have anything to hold me here, except my job. And Sheriff Nichols will give me time off. Hell, I’ve got so much sick leave coming to me I could take off a year and still not use it all up.”

  Ripp’s snort was meant to sound humorous, but it fell a bit short. “That’s because you’re too mean to get sick.” His expression dry, he looked over his shoulder at Mac. “But who knows—after this you just might need a good doctor.”

  Ripp didn’t have to explain that “this” meant finding Frankie McCleod. After all this time without her, Mac couldn’t think of the woman as their mother. Not in the regular sense of the word.

  Mac said, “Well, we both decided after Sheriff Travers told you that story about Frankie calling Dad, asking to come home, that maybe we should try to find her. See if his story was true and what really happened back then. Are you having second thoughts?”

  Groaning, Ripp turned away from the window. “Hell yes! I keep thinking that maybe not knowing about her is better than learning that she really didn’t want us.”

  Mac thrust a hand through his dark hair as he stared at the stack of letters. Each one had been written by Frankie Cantrell and mailed to Betty Jo Andrews, who’d lived in Goliad County all her life until she’d died three months ago from a massive stroke. Her son, Oscar, had been going through her things, getting her estate in order, when he’d discovered the letters in an old cedar chest. Frankie’s last name had changed from McCleod to Cantrell, but Oscar had glanced through one of the letters and spotted Mac’s and Ripp’s names. As a result, he’d thought the brothers would be interested to see them.

  Inter
ested? The existence of the letters had stunned them. Betty Jo had certainly kept her correspondence with Frankie a deep secret. If anyone else had known about it, they’d not disclosed it to Mac or Ripp.

  “I don’t agree,” Mac finally replied. “The not knowing is bad, Ripp. Besides, if it turns out she didn’t want us, then it will be easy for me to say good riddance and put the matter out of my mind once and for all.”

  “That’s cold.”

  Mac let out a long breath. “I can’t help it, Ripp. I remember watching her pack up and drive away. That does something to a ten-year-old kid.”

  Walking across the room, Ripp placed a comforting hand on his brother’s strong shoulder. “We don’t have to do this, Mac. We’ll always have each other. If that’s enough for you, then it’s enough for me.”

  Mac’s throat tightened as he looked in his brother’s eyes. While growing up, the two had clung to each other more than most siblings. And down through the years that closeness hadn’t wavered. Mac didn’t have to think twice about his brother’s love. Ripp would always be there for him, no matter who or what came and went in their lives.

  “We both deserve to know the truth, Ripp. And I’m gonna find it.” Mac gestured to the letters. “I’ll take one of those with me for evidence. You can read the rest while I’m gone.”

  Ripp shook his head. “We’ll read them together. Once you get back.”

  “We might not want to read them then,” Mac countered soberly.

  “Find the woman first, Mac. And then we’ll make a decision about her.”

  Chapter One

  “D r. Sanders, if you have a moment could you come to the nurse’s station? There’s—someone here who I think you need to see.”

  Ileana Sanders frowned slightly. It wasn’t like Renae to sound evasive. In the few years that Ileana had known her, she’d been an excellent nurse who didn’t waste time playing guessing games.“I’m working on a chart, Renae. Who is it? Do they need medical attention?”

  “No. He—looks pretty healthy to me.” There was a pause on the phone, and when Renae’s voice returned, Ileana could barely hear her whisper. “Get down here now, Doc. If you don’t, I’m not sure I can keep him out of Ms. Cantrell’s room!”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Dropping the phone back in its cradle, Ileana grabbed a white lab coat from the back of her chair and left the little cubicle she used as an office while making her hospital rounds.

  From the internal medicine wing of the building, Ileana had to walk down a long, wide corridor, then make a left turn and walk half that distance again to reach the nurse’s station.

  Along the way, she met several of the more mobile patients walking the hallway. They all spoke to her, and she gave each one an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up on their progress. One of the perks of working in a smaller town, she thought, was knowing most everyone who walked through the hospital doors.

  But the moment Ileana turned the corner and peered toward the nurse’s station, she definitely didn’t recognize the tall man standing at the counter. Even though it was exceptionally cold outside, he was without a jacket, making it possible for her to see that he was dressed all in blue denim. A chocolate-brown cowboy hat was slanted low over his forehead and covered hair a shade darker than the felt. And in spite of the lengthy distance, she could see he was a walking mass of lean, hard muscle.

  He must have heard the hurried click of her heels on the shiny tile, because he suddenly turned in her direction, and for one brief moment, Ileana felt her breath catch, her heart jump. His features were chiseled perfection, his skin burned brown by the sun. Authority was stamped all over him, and she knew, without being told, that he was a stranger to Ruidoso. There was a subtle edginess about him that was different from the locals.

  Instinctively, Ileana’s steps slowed as she tried to regain her composure, while to her left, Renae swiftly walked from behind the counter to intercept her.

  “Dr. Sanders, this is Mr. McCleod. He’s traveled all the way from Texas to see Ms. Cantrell.”

  His dark brown eyes were sliding over Ileana with a lazy interest that left her uncomfortably hot beneath her lab coat; yet she did her best to appear cool and collected as she stepped up to the man and thrust out her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. McCleod,” she said with a faint smile.

  His big hand closed around hers, and Ileana was acutely aware of warm, calloused skin and firm pressure from his fingers.

  “Call me Mac,” he said. “Are you Ms. Cantrell’s attending physician?”

  The easy smile on his face was a tad sexy and a whole lot charming. As Ileana drew in a deep breath, she realized she’d never met this man. Because he was clearly unforgettable.

  Inclining her head, she hoped she didn’t look as awed as she felt. Which was really a quite ridiculous reaction on her part. She’d lived on the Bar M Ranch all her life. She’d been around rugged men throughout her thirty-eight years, and some of them had been darn good-looking with plenty of rough sex appeal. Yet none of them had grabbed her attention like this one. This was one striking cowboy.

  “Yes, I’m Ms. Cantrell’s doctor. Are you a friend of hers?”

  Beneath his dark tan, she watched a hint of red color work its way up his throat and over his face. His embarrassed reaction wasn’t the norm, but Ileana had certainly contended with worse. Everyone reacted differently when a friend or loved one became ill. Some got downright angry, quick to blame the doctor, even God, for the misfortune. She’d learned to take it all in stride.

  The aim of his brown gaze landed somewhere near her feet rather than on her face, making her curiosity about the man go up another notch.

  “Uh—not exactly,” he said.

  His face lifted, and Ileana couldn’t help but notice the faint, challenging thrust of his chin, the resolution in his eyes. She shivered inwardly. For all his smooth manners, she instinctively sensed Mac McCleod had a very tough side to him.

  “Nurse Walker tells me you’re not allowing Ms. Cantrell to have visitors right now.”

  “That’s right,” she said, then feeling she needed to keep their conversation private, Ileana touched a hand to his arm and gestured to a waiting area several feet away from the nurse’s station. “Why don’t we step over here, and I’ll explain.”

  He didn’t say anything as he followed her over to a small grouping of armchairs and couches covered in green and red fabric, but once they stood facing each other, he didn’t wait for her to speak.

  “Look, Dr. Sanders, I’ve traveled a considerable distance to see Ms. Cantrell. At the Chaparral Ranch, I was told by a maid who answered the door that she was hospitalized, so I drove straight here. All I’m asking is a few short minutes with the woman. Surely that couldn’t hurt,” he added with a persuasive little smile.

  Even though he seemed pleasant enough, there was something about the way he said “the woman” that left Ileana uneasy. Besides sounding a bit disrespectful, there was no warmth, no fondness inflected in the words. Had he and Frankie had a falling-out over something? Did he actually know her?

  “I’m very sorry, Mr. McCleod. Perhaps you should have called before you made the long drive. Ms. Cantrell isn’t up for visits. Presently, her condition is very fragile. The only people I’m allowing into her room are her son, daughter and father-in-law.”

  For one brief moment his jaw hardened, but just as quickly a smile transformed his face, and Ileana felt certain he was deliberately trying to charm her into letting him enter Frankie’s room. The idea was very odd and even more worrisome.

  “What about her husband?” he asked.

  This brought Ileana’s brows up. Clearly he wasn’t a close acquaintance of Frankie’s. Otherwise, he would have known that Lewis, her husband, had passed away a little more than a year ago.

  “I’m sorry if you didn’t know. Ms. Cantrell is a widow now. Lewis died about a year ago.”

  His expression suddenly turned uncomfortable, and Ileana was
relieved to see that the man did have a streak of compassion in him.

  “Uh—sorry. No, I didn’t know.”

  “Have you spoken with Quint or Alexa, Ms. Cantrell’s children? Perhaps they can help you,” she said.

  Quint and Alexa. Mac mulled the two names over in his mind. If Frankie Cantrell was Mac’s missing mother, and from every indication it appeared that she was, that would make Quint and Alexa his half siblings. The idea knocked him for a loop. For some reason all these years, he’d never considered the idea of Frankie having more children. A stupid, infantile idea to cling to, he supposed. But if she’d not wanted to be a mother to Mac and Ripp, why would she have had more children?

  “No. I’ve not spoken to either of them,” he told her. “I—I’m not sure there were any family members at home when I visited the ranch.”

  “Well, both of Frankie’s children have their hands full with trying to watch over their mother and keep up with their jobs, too. Alexa works in Santa Fe at the state capital, and Quint runs the ranch here in Ruidoso. I expect he’ll be around later tonight. If you’d like to wait. Or contact Abe Cantrell, her father-in-law.”

  Frustration made him want to howl, but he kept the reaction to himself. This woman wouldn’t understand. And frankly, she was looking at him as though he were one of those criminals he often locked behind bars. Which was a strange reaction for Mac, who was used to women sidling up to him with a warm, inviting smile on their faces. He liked to flirt but hadn’t gotten serious in a long time.

  Hell, Mac, she’s a professional. She isn’t going to be flashing you a sexy smile or flirting with you.