He took a big bite of the sour bread and sweet butter to ease his growling stomach, picked up the fork and started beating the eggs. They looked just like his mind had felt after Jo Lena scrambled it yesterday.

  It could’ve been one of those twisted Swedish pretzels by the time she got done worrying about one thing and then another, and thinking one way and then the opposite way, and then jumping from wanting to be completely independent to wanting him to offer help. And it had to be for the right reason, too: not because he owed her but because he liked her.

  Wasn’t that just like a woman?

  Here she’d been acting all along as if she didn’t want so much as to see his face.

  He whistled a little tune as he poured the eggs on top of the potatoes and started stirring them all together in the sizzling skillet. This was just simple campfire cooking but he must make sure not to mention it to Jo Lena. He didn’t want her to think he was able to feed himself in any way.

  When the eggs were done, he sat down at the rickety table that had probably stood in this kitchen since the flood, and looked around the room while he ate. A bed-and-breakfast, huh?

  Well, it would need a dishwasher. And a bigger stove. There was room for a huge one where this old two-burner one was and space for a double-wide refrigerator over in the corner. No telling what else would have to be done.

  All the electrical wiring, and all the plumbing would probably have to be replaced. This house would have to be taken down to the studs. Plus, to be registered as an historic place, every single thing would have to be done according to some greatly detailed rules, no doubt.

  He sighed. He’d shot off his mouth about restoring this place when he had no clue what he was talking about.

  A little surge of excitement went through him, though. It was so weird that the project he’d hit upon right off the top of his head turned out to be Jo Lena’s secret dream. That seemed almost as if it were meant to be.

  A small voice spoke somewhere in the back of his mind. Could it be that God had given him this opportunity to do something good for Jo Lena to make up just a part of all the wrong he’d done her?

  He pushed the thought away and focused his attention on the real world again. God had no use for him or He would’ve saved Scotty’s life that night.

  Monte made himself look around the huge kitchen. He’d thought when he bought the place that he could never live anywhere permanently and then he’d known that he could never sell it when he found Jo Lena on the property. So here it was, or soon would be: her bed-and-breakfast, her dream come true.

  Once, long ago, her dream had been a home with him.

  But he wouldn’t let himself think about that, either. Jo Lena had no more use for him than God did.

  He would simply concentrate on what needed to be done to restore the place and he wouldn’t just hire someone to do it, either. He’d told Jo Lena that’s what would be keeping him busy and no way was he breaking his word to her, whether the work turned out to be boring or not.

  Honestly, he didn’t have anything else to do. Working on this house was bound to teach him a lot of skills and it’d certainly be new and different, which was what he was always after, wasn’t it?

  Who knew? Maybe he’d go into historic restoration if he couldn’t ride bulls anymore.

  A pang of regret hit him hard as he ate the last bite of his eggs and potatoes. If he couldn’t ride bulls or broncs anymore, what would he do for excitement? He had to have a challenge, he needed that always-thrilling rush of adrenaline to make him feel alive. He’d lived for that since he was knee-high to a grasshopper.

  Resolutely, he pushed back from the table. All he could do was work with what strength and flexibility he had right now and hope for the best. The early-morning stretches he’d started today seemed to have helped. Soon he would try really working out again.

  Right now, he had to focus on something else. He would drive into San Antonio and learn what he needed to know about historic restoration while he hoped like crazy that his back would heal fast and heal enough for him to ride again. His leg was much better. Surely he wasn’t out of the game for good.

  The front door flew open and slapped the wall.

  “Mo-nte!”

  That was Delia’s voice.

  “Hey, Monte, up and at ’em! Let’s get this place whipped into shape and I mean now!”

  And that was LydaAnn’s.

  Quick, hot anger surged into his blood. Couldn’t they give him some privacy in his own house?

  And some respect? Nobody in the whole family thought he had an ounce of responsibility in him and now, evidently, they’d decided he couldn’t even clean his own house.

  He left his plate on the table and went to throw the meddlers out.

  But there they were, his baby sisters, looking and acting as if they were teenagers again. Delia and LydaAnn were stubbornly trying to struggle through the doorway at the same time, both with armfuls of mops, brooms, buckets and cleaning supplies. Even a shovel. In spite of himself, he grinned.

  They looked hilarious. They wore bandannas tied down over their hair, tool belts stuffed with dust cloths, spray cleaners and brushes strapped around their waists, and T-shirts that read Hill Country Clean Team—We Sweep Your Floors, Stomp Your Bugs, and Sing While We Do It.

  Monte shook his head and tried not to laugh because that would only encourage them.

  But he still couldn’t quit grinning. Obviously, they hadn’t lost their will to go to any lengths for one of their silly scenarios. They hadn’t changed a bit since they were little girls putting on plays for audiences that ranged from their playmates to the whole family to everyone living on the ranch.

  “So why is everyone always picking on me as the McMahan who will never grow up?” he said.

  They stuck out their tongues and rolled their eyes at him in answer and then, as soon as they got through the door, they struck a pose and began to sing in their tight, sisterly harmony:

  “If dirt’s knee-deep in your living room and trash piled high on your set-tee, we’ll shovel it out and haul it off and that we will guar-an-tee, if you’ll smile and hang tight with our Hill Country Clean Team we’ll do all your work, take away all your troubles and make your sad face beam!”

  They sang the last line a little too fast, to make it fit, then hummed a little riff of an ending and stood there smiling at him expectantly.

  Monte tried, he really tried, but he could not hold back a laugh.

  They had gone to a lot of trouble for him. They must truly be glad he was back because usually even Bobbie Ann couldn’t get them to do housework of any kind.

  “I knew I should’ve put locks on this house before I carried in my gear bag,” he said.

  “That’s no way to talk to the unpaid help,” LydaAnn said, laughing back at him. “You’ll be changing your tune by the end of the day, Monte McMahan, when you see what we all can do to this filthy rat hole.”

  “I like it just the way it is.”

  “You haven’t seen it clean for comparison,” Delia said, trying for her most authoritative tone.

  She was laughing, too, though. At the expression on his face, no doubt.

  “What’s this ‘end of the day’ and ‘we all can do’ business?” he said.

  “The whole family’s coming,” LydaAnn said as she abandoned her tools and started exploring the room. “Jo Lena’s cooking supper for everybody and Ma’s bringing snacks to get us by ’til then.”

  They were even horning in on his supper with Jo Lena.

  Which was good, come to think of it. He didn’t need to be getting attached to any rituals with Jo Lena.

  But the whole family! Here for the whole day!

  “Give me a break,” he said. “Call the others off. It’ll take me all morning to run off just the two of you.”

  “Longer than that,” Delia said. “We want to look the place over and see what all you’ll have to do to restore it.”

  A quick stab of annoyance and something else—jealousy or betrayal—ran through him. That had been a private conversation between him and Jo Lena. This was their deal and Jo didn’t need to be talking to anybody else about it.

  “What is this?” he demanded. “Jo Lena must’ve been on the phone all night telling everything she knows.”

  “Nope, it was Lily Rae,” LydaAnn said. “She and Maria and Lupe helped us gather up our supplies.”

  “That little rascal,” Monte grumbled. “First she tells Clint and Jackson my floors are dirty, and now this.”

  “Yep,” Delia said. “But don’t you say a word to her. She’s our best source of information and I don’t know what we’d do without her.”

  “What y’all might do is mind your own business,” Monte said. “I’m telling the kid to zip her lip.”

  “No way,” LydaAnn said. “It’d break her heart. If she thought she’d displeased her wonderful Monte, she’d never get over it.”

  He was fast losing his sense of lightheartedness. One reason was this sisterly invasion but another was that he’d just recognized that his desire for a project or some connection that included only him and Jo Lena ran really deep.

  That line of thinking was a definite slippery slope. He had better welcome everyone he could find to make a crowd between him and Jo.

  Yet he couldn’t resist trying one more time.

  “Look, girls,” he said. “Let’s forget this for now, because I was just on my way into San Antonio. I’ll hire a crew some other day.”

  Delia was examining the details of the window moldings.

  “No, Monte, you can’t,” she said absently. “Mom’s looking forward to the whole family being together for the day and you’ve broken her heart enough times in six years. Nothin’ for it but to sit still and take your medicine today, big bro.”

  Then she turned and gave him a look that showed she wasn’t quite so absentminded, after all.

  His old guilt stirred to stronger life inside him. The irritation flared again, too, but he might as well get a grip on it because Delia was right. This day of mothering him and cleaning up his house would mean the world to Bobbie Ann, and he’d already disappointed her by coming home to the Rocking M and then leaving it again so soon.

  Another vehicle pulled up into the yard and honked a greeting. It was one of the four-door ranch pickups hauling a two-horse trailer—Monte saw it through the window.

  “Y’all must really think this place is dirty,” he said. “Looks like Clint’s brought a whole trailerload of cleaning supplies.”

  “Maybe the trailer’s to haul off the trash,” Delia said.

  His sisters came to give him hugs.

  “You can stand it, sweetie,” LydaAnn said. “Just this one day and then we’ll all leave you alone. Maybe.”

  Monte shook his head woefully.

  “I went out and bought a whole ranch trying to escape from these early-morning visits,” he said, hugging them back, one in each arm. “Spent over a million dollars and it didn’t do me a dime’s worth of good.”

  “You went at it all wrong,” Delia said. “If you’d split the million between us in bribes, that might’ve done the trick.”

  “It would not,” LydaAnn said. “This is much more fun than spending money.”

  Monte groaned.

  “If that’s the way y’all feel, then I’m in trouble deep,” he said.

  “You got it,” they said in chorus.

  “Darcy! You and Cait come here and look,” Bobbie Ann yelled from the front porch, “we’ve got our work cut out for us. This house hasn’t been cleaned for years.”

  Monte turned to see his mother peering in through the ragged screen door. She grinned at him over the stack of food containers she was balancing in both arms.

  “I may have to stay with you all next week, son, just to finish up sanitizing the whole place. This looks like a real challenge.”

  She had a little chortle in her voice. She was enjoying this as much as his sisters were. Now they were both laughing at him again.

  “Stay as long as you want, Ma,” he said perversely. “I’d love to have the company.”

  LydaAnn elbowed him in the side.

  “Well, thanks a lot!” she said. “Ma, he was trying to throw us out but he said you can stay.”

  “I’m so sorry, sugar,” Bobbie Ann said with exaggerated kindness. “But that’s because he knows he can trust me not to sing.”

  That made LydaAnn and Delia start singing again and Monte dragged them both toward the door. Wrestling and arguing as if they were all kids again, they worked their way toward the porch to help Bobbie Ann with the load of food she’d brought.

  “You do have refrigeration, don’t you, Monte?” she said.

  “Yeah, but it’s an old machine. I doubt it’ll hold all of this.”

  “If not, Jo Lena said she had some room.”

  Monte took some of the big plastic boxes she held.

  “Jo Lena’s in trouble,” he said darkly. “She should’ve warned me about this little party.”

  “We asked her not to tell,” Bobbie Ann said, “for fear you’d run away and not be here to do your part.”

  Monte turned to lead the way into the house as his brothers and both sisters-in-law piled out of the truck.

  “My part is supervisory,” he said.

  “In your dreams,” Delia said.

  That reduced him to pleading.

  “Come on, Ma,” he said desperately. “What’s the point of cleaning this house when we’ll just have to tear out the walls and ceilings to renovate the place?”

  “Are you going to be living here while all that’s going on?” Bobbie Ann demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then. That’s the point.”

  They all laughed.

  “Easy to see you’ve been gone too long, Monte,” Delia said. “You’ve forgotten how the world works.”

  Clint called from the yard.

  “Hey, Monte, hold on. Jackson and I are gonna rescue you from these women. Get yourself on out here.”

  The four of them stopped and let the screen door fall closed again. Cait and Darcy were climbing the porch steps. Clint and Jackson were both going back to look in on whatever they had in the trailer.

  “Only for a little while!” Bobbie Ann called back to him. “Clint, do you hear me? Go straight to the sale, drop the horse off and come directly back here.”

  Monte handed his boxes of food to Delia and started toward the steps to go look at the horse, too.

  “What time is supper?” Clint said, teasing his mother.

  “Y’all better not be gone that long,” Bobbie Ann said darkly. “Lupe’s bringing Maegan and Lily Rae to us at noon and y’all have to baby-sit.”

  Clint grinned and waved at her as he turned to look at the horse again. Monte joined him.

  “Who’s this going to the sale?” he said.

  “A truly ornery beast we call Cactus for his disposition,” Jackson said. “He’s a Gold Chocolate, bred for Western Pleasure, but nobody can stay on him.”

  “A slight detriment for a show horse,” Monte said dryly.

  “Exactly,” Clint said. “He’s outta here before he hurts somebody. I’m tired of fooling with him.”

  “Pretty head,” Monte said, as the horse moved up closer in the open window of the trailer.

  The horse looked right back at him and jerked on the tie rope with a definite attitude.

  “Great mover, too,” Jackson said. “A complete waste of talent.”

  “Nobody can stay on him, you say?”

  “Nope. They get scared and step off. He’s bad to rear.”

  Monte looked at the horse some more.

  Cactus looked at him rebelliously.

  “Not exactly what you’d call a soft eye,” Monte said.

  Clint and Jackson laughed.

  Monte thought about it.

  Cactus thought about it.

  “Let me get on him,” Monte said.

  “Mon-te!”

  His mother’s voice made him turn to see the five women still standing on the porch, all of them watching and listening.

  “You are not well yet,” Bobbie Ann said firmly. “Do not go near that horse. Do you want to be back in the hospital again?”

  “I won’t be,” he said. “I just want to see if I can stay on him.”

  He turned back to the horse.

  “You have lost your mind!” LydaAnn shouted. “If you get hurt again right now, Mon, you may never ride anything else. Not even a dead-broke, retired show horse.”

  Of course, Delia had to join in the chorus.

  “Don’t get on him, Monte,” she said. “It’s not worth the risk.”

  But risk was what he lived for.

  And this was his chance to prove himself to his brothers.

  “Get him out,” he said to Clint.

  Clint started for the back of the trailer, then hesitated.

  “You sure?” he said.

  “Monte, please don’t do this,” Bobbie Ann called.

  Her voice was shaking because she was scared. Monte had never realized before how scared she must’ve been to know he was getting on bull after bull. Actually, he had barely even thought about it.

  He turned to smile at her.

  “Don’t worry, Ma,” he said. “This horse doesn’t look near as tough as any bull I ever got on.”

  Already the excitement was starting to rise in his blood.

  “Looks are deceiving,” she said. “And besides rearing, he bites and kicks, too.”

  But Monte turned back to his brothers.

  “I want to get on him,” he said.

  Jackson opened the trailer door and Clint went in to untie the prickly horse called Cactus.

  Monte’s heart began to beat faster. He hadn’t realized until now how much he’d been wanting a good, wild ride.

  If he could make it.

  All he had to do was ignore the pain in his back and the sudden, brand-new fear that was melting his bones.

  It didn’t matter to Monte that the whole gaggle of females had followed the men and the horse up to his barn or that Jo Lena had seen their ragged parade and had come to join them. The fear had shot him right through any dread of embarrassment and out the other side. All he wanted was to conquer this unaccustomed terror.

 

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