Texas Dad (Fatherhood) (2 page)

She could still clearly recall the night thirteen years ago when she’d driven from Lubbock to Turkey Creek Ranch to tell Mack about a scholarship she’d been offered to study for her master’s in photojournalism in France. She’d hoped Mack would ask to move up their wedding date; she’d have gladly foregone Paris to be his wife. But she’d walked in on a touching scene with her fiancé consoling his sobbing former girlfriend. Faith was blubbering about being pregnant, and saying that her very religious parents would, if not kill her, make her life miserable for what they’d deem a terrible sin.

Mack had tenderly brushed away Faith’s tears, assuring her he’d speak to her father. Mack insisted Faith move to Turkey Creek straightaway. And he promised to keep her safe from her fire-and-brimstone preacher daddy.

J.J. had died a thousand deaths standing hidden from the entwined pair. She’d felt sick and humiliated to learn that Mack had gotten Faith pregnant. He and J.J. were engaged! The couple didn’t see her leave Mack’s house. She cried her heart out on the drive back to campus, but managed to harden it with help from her mother, who agreed to send back Mack’s ring. Skipping graduation, she’d grabbed the Paris opportunity and hadn’t looked back—until now.

She made one last effort to change Donna’s mind. “What can we really know about the women who enter the contest? Who would want to meet a man that way? What’s to say a winner isn’t a gold digger, or...crazy?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “You know we run background checks on the men we feature
and
on the readers we select to deliver the five-thousand-dollar check. And everyone signs a release.”

“Out of curiosity, what is Mack Bannerman’s charity?”

The director with the application answered. “He underwrites a steak-fry festival each year. Proceeds go to a Texas contractor who retrofits homes for disabled veterans.”

Impressed against her will, J.J. felt the last of her barricades crumble. Meeting Donna’s steady gaze, J.J. murmured, “Fine. I’ll wrap up this layout and go to Texas next week.”

As the room emptied, Donna kept J.J. behind for a minute. “If the article and photographs go smoothly, take an extra week to visit your mom. I’m going on vacation for two weeks myself. When we’re both back, I’ll help pick the reader we send to meet your Mr. Bannerman.”

“Thanks. I guess I feel extra responsible because he lives in my home territory.”

“Hmm. Is that all it is? I sensed it might be more.”

“N-no,” J.J. stuttered. “I pulled up my Texas roots a long, long time ago.”

The woman gave a crisp nod, squeezed J.J.’s arm and walked out of the room, calling to someone in the hall. J.J. was left feeling rattled.
Damn it all, and damn Mack Bannerman for resurfacing from the rubble of her life and causing her to lie to a woman she admired—her boss, no less.

Resolutely but by no means happily, J.J. flew across the country a week later. While in the air she decided how to handle this inconvenience professionally. Once she landed in Lubbock, she’d rent a vehicle, drive to La Mesa and meet Mack’s daughter, as prearranged by staff. She’d ask the necessary questions to write an article, take photos of him on a horse herding cows or whatever he did during his workday. She’d spend one night in town, then go back to Lubbock and visit her mom. Afterward she’d zap straight back to New York—with her heart intact.

She had a plan, and she wasn’t prepared for it to go awry. But late that afternoon when she checked into the motel in La Mesa, her plan did just that. The clerk at the front desk handed her a phone message from Mack’s daughter, Zoey. The girl couldn’t meet J.J. as arranged, the note said, because her best friend’s mother couldn’t bring the kids to town today. The message instructed J.J. to meet the girls at the public library at ten the next day rather than going out to the ranch.

Once in her room, J.J. stared out the window at the Western town that had grown little in the time she’d been gone. She admitted to being curious about the child Mack had with Faith. She hadn’t known Faith well. It was Mack who had included the thin, pale woman in their college group. Sparing a moment to reread the message, J.J. felt a niggling suspicion that Mack might not be aware that he was going to be displayed in a high-circulation women’s magazine. But she knew the staff had sent him a release to sign, so J.J. would meet the kids, then proceed. The staff of
Her Own Woman,
most of them mothers, had empathy for the motherless Zoey Bannerman. It hadn’t occurred to them that anything might be amiss with the kid’s nomination of her father. And maybe nothing was. This uneasiness in J.J.’s stomach could well be her own reservations over seeing Mackenzie again.

Had she known of this delay earlier, she’d have phoned her mom and taken her to dinner. Too weary now to drive back to Lubbock, she elected to go in search of food in town before calling it a night.

Fewer than twenty minutes later, a short walk down the main street from her motel, she sat at the counter of a hole-in-the-wall café, checking her messages while awaiting delivery of her order. It was frustrating as she kept losing her signal. Purely by chance, she heard Mack’s name mentioned. A trio of rancher types in jeans and cowboy hats were discussing a year-long drought in the area that was of major concern, considering summer was just around the corner.

“If Bannerman has to sell his herd early and take a loss, he might not be able to underwrite this year’s steak-fry festival,” the man closest to J.J. said.

An older man bobbed his shaggy gray head. “Be a shame if Mack had to cancel the event when more wounded veterans than ever need retro-fitted homes. Last year Mack raised funds to help three local veterans.”

“Yep, I know. But our pastures are as dry as I’ve ever seen ’em in the spring,” lamented a man J.J. couldn’t see past the bulk of the others.

“Uh-huh, two bad grass fires already. Hey, Jody, how about a refill on the coffee,” he called to the waitress, wagging his cup in the air. “And slices of that lemon pie all around? My treat,” he told his companions.

J.J.’s soup and sandwich came, and the men quit talking to wolf down their pie, after which they dropped money on the counter and trooped out. J.J. found herself feeling sad to think Turkey Creek Ranch might be struggling.
And Mack.
He was the fourth generation of Bannermans to raise cattle. His great-grandfather was one of a few old-timers who’d built a Hereford herd with cows and bulls brought over from England. Mack had planned to crossbreed and produce a strain of hardier cattle more able to survive the extreme Texas weather. She’d once promised to support him in every way. Obviously he hadn’t wanted her help.

She pushed aside half of her sandwich, wondering why she’d recalled that or anything else about Mack. It had taken her a long time to bury her pain.

Paying at the register, J.J. walked back to her motel, determined to put Mack out of her mind for the night.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, just past 10:00 a.m., she hurried into the library. It smelled like all the libraries she’d spent time in during her school years in Texas. The odor of pungent wax didn’t quite hide the musty scent of old books.

The heels of her boots clacked on the weathered wood flooring. Rising late after sleeping better than she’d expected to, she’d hastily thrown on a citified version of cowgirl wear—skinny jeans, a sleeveless black linen blouse and understated gold accessories that were a staple when she traveled. Assuming she’d be driving to the ranch later, she’d pulled her hair in an easy twist that looked elaborate but really wasn’t. It kept her hair contained and out of her face when she shot photographs in remote locations. Slung over one shoulder she carried her ever-present worn leather bag filled with cameras, light meters and other equipment she never found time to unpack between trips.

“I’m supposed to meet a couple of teen girls,” she told the librarian. The woman pointed her to a round table partially hidden behind a counter on which sat two computers.

Crossing over to the waiting pair, J.J. smiled and said, “Sorry I’m a bit late. I’m J. J. Walker. I’m from
Her Own Woman
magazine.” She was surprised that she couldn’t readily identify which of them was Mack’s daughter, given that she’d known both of the girl’s parents. She’d forgotten Texas ranch kids tended to look younger and more scrubbed than teens she encountered on a New York subway.

For the girls’ part, they seemed struck mute.

Not wanting to intimidate them, J.J. slid out a chair, dumped her bag on the floor and sat. “Well, I don’t know who’s who, but you know why I’m here. It must be exciting to have your essay and photographs chosen by our staff,” she said brightly.

The girl with reddish brown braids sat up straighter. “I’m Zoey Bannerman. This is my friend, Brandy Evers. I took the pictures, and Brandy gave me suggestions for my essay.” She kept her gaze downcast, which didn’t allow J.J. to see if the girl’s eyes were gray like Mack’s.

Removing a folder and business card from her bag, J.J. said, “Our next step is for me to interview your father and take some professional photos. We want shots of him doing what he does every day on his ranch.” Her gold bangles clinked as she spun her watch around to check the time. “If we head out now, I should be able to wind things down by four o’clock.”

“Today?” The girls shared a look of consternation. Before J.J. could decipher it, the front door to the library flew open, creating a cool breeze. J.J. saw both girls stiffen as a man’s deep voice called, “Zoey.” Zoey jumped up and almost fell over the camera bag.

Leaning down, J.J. tucked the bag farther under the table, then let her eyes track over scuffed cowboy boots, up worn blue jeans, to a shiny belt buckle. Panic set in when she completed the journey and got stuck on the tanned, lean face of none other than Mackenzie Bannerman. Thankfully, he wasn’t paying any attention to her, and that gave her time to take a deep breath and pull herself together.

“You should’ve let me know you girls were coming into town, Zoey. I expected you to be at Brandy’s house. Erma fell down our back steps. She may have broken her hip. I had to bring her into the urgent-care clinic, and I wasted precious time tracking down Brandy’s mom, who didn’t hear her phone. Since I’m here, she asked if I’d drive you kids home. So grab your books and check them out. I have to swing back to the clinic to get the verdict on Erma.”

The girls remained glued to their spots, Zoey standing and Brandy seated across from J.J.

“What’s wrong with you two? Hop to it. Whether or not Erma broke her hip, she’s going to be laid up for a while. I need to stop by the employment office and see if they can scare us up a temporary housekeeper.” Only then did Mack seem to realize there was someone else at the girls’ table.

J.J. knew the exact moment he noticed her—and recognized her—because his breath escaped his lungs in a hiss. He reeled back on his heels and swore out loud.

“Mack,” she said, inclining her head ever so slightly to meet those incredible eyes. “It’s been a long time.” J.J. prided herself on the fact that her voice wasn’t shaking like her insides were.

Fury wafted off the man and surrounded them in oppressive waves. J.J. could barely breathe for the tension that crackled between them. But of the two of them, she’d at least managed to be civil. Perhaps Mack—the cheater—didn’t have it in him to do the same.

Chapter Two

Mack felt as if he’d gone back in time. He shut his eyes and opened them again slowly to see if he’d lost his mind. His heart was beating so fast that he wondered if he was about to suffer the same fate as his father—a stroke.

Nope, he wasn’t living a nightmare.
There sat Jill Walker, looking more gorgeous than she had at twenty-one. Pulling himself together, Mack snarled at her out of renewed anger—how dared she waltz back into his life when she’d treated him so abominably? “Jilly,” he said icily. “What brings you to La Mesa? And why in hell are you with my daughter?”

Handing him a business card, Jill stared coolly at Mack. “I go by J.J. now...J. J. Walker. Believe me when I say I’m not here by choice. I’m on assignment. I assume you’re familiar with
Her Own Woman
magazine, since Zoey nominated you and you were selected to be our featured man of August.” She noticed then how the girls were frantically trying to signal her. She stopped talking, unsure what they were trying to convey.

“If that’s not total bullshit, I don’t know what is.” Mack crushed her card in his hand.

The girls swooped around him at the same time the librarian hurried over to shush them. “You four need to take your noisy discussion outside,” she ordered. “There are people here trying to concentrate.”

Giving J.J. another angry glance, Mack collected the girls’ books and bags, and hustled Zoey and Brandy out.

J.J. gathered her folder and camera bag, slower to follow. No matter how prepared she thought she’d be to see Mack, he was far more potent in person than in those photographs.

Mack and the girls stood at the base of the library steps when J.J. descended. He was waving his hands, and as she got closer she heard him demanding answers from Zoey. Huge tears rolled down the girl’s face while her friend stood to one side biting her lower lip. J.J. might not want to be here, but she felt sorry for Mack’s daughter.

“Girls.” She broke in. “I suspect you haven’t been up front with Zoey’s father regarding my magazine’s contest. The truth is we can’t feature anyone who objects. In fact, Zoey, the magazine mailed you a release you were instructed to have your dad sign.”

“I, uh, we... Brandy and me thought he could sign it later.”

“I’ve got no intention of signing anything,” Mack said, glaring down his nose at J.J. as he hooked his thumbs over his belt. “Release for what? What’s going on? I didn’t enter any contest.”

“Nothing,” Zoey wailed. “Everything’s ruined. I didn’t think you’d win, but if you did I planned to surprise you.”

“That you have succeeded in doing,” Mack said, drawing out a long sigh.

Brandy slid in next to Zoey. “Zoey did it for your steak-fry, Mr. B. Every winner gets a check from the magazine for his favorite charity.”

Zoey scrubbed her wet cheeks. “The magazine people choose a reader to bring the check. And they send you and the reader to a nice restaurant...kind of like a date. Oh,” she sobbed, “it’s hopeless. Now you’ll never go out with someone nice who can help me dress like a girl,” she cried. “Next year Heather Reed and all the boys will keep laughing at me.”

Mack stood in stunned silence a moment, unable to process the bulk of Zoey’s ramblings. She was more upset than he’d ever seen her, and her sadness cooled his anger the way nothing else could. He used his thumbs to wipe away her lingering tears. Kneeling, he pulled her close.

J.J. noticed how his demeanor changed and his face softened when he gently tugged one of Zoey’s braids.

“You look like a girl,” he murmured. “Who says you don’t? Help me understand, Bug. What check? What reader? Why do you think that girl laughs at you? And why does it matter if I date or not?”

“Don’t call me Bug. Boys are bugs. Brandy’s mom and dad call her honey.”

Slanting J.J. an embarrassed little smile before he cradled Zoey’s splotchy face in his big hands, Mack murmured, “I’ve called you Bug since you were born, because you were cute as a bug. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. But the rest, especially the dating part, isn’t a subject to be discussed in public.”

Brandy interrupted again. “Mr. B., how come you know a magazine photographer from New York?”

He didn’t answer, still peeved as he switched his focus to J.J. “I swear this is the first I’ve heard of any of this. I have no idea what’s going on. I probably should have asked Zoey why she was stalking me with a camera a few weeks ago. But tell me how any reputable magazine can encourage children to invade a person’s life without obtaining that person’s permission?”

Beginning to steam at Mack’s holier-than-thou attitude, J.J. flipped her folder open and yanked out a blank sheet of paper. “Like I said, the rules state that candidates must sign a release. The girls followed the rules. Our staff found Zoey’s essay compelling, and the photos, well, intriguing. I was on a shoot out of the country when the decision was made to put you in the lineup. But no problem, Mackenzie, we can end this ASAP and I’ll be on my way home. All I need is for you to jot a brief note declining to be included in our promo.” She shoved the folder and pen toward him as he knelt in front of Zoey.

He reached up for the folder. Zoey looked stricken.

Gesturing with the pen, J.J. said, “By declining, you will forfeit the five-thousand-dollar donation to your charity. I imagine that’s the biggest shame, especially if you’re forced to cancel your steak-fry. I admit I was impressed by your charity.”

“Forced to...? I’m baffled as to why you’d think there’s some doubt about me underwriting our annual steak-fry.” His expression even more confused, Mack rose to frown first at J.J., then Zoey. “Zoey, please stop crying. I’ve left Erma in the E.R. and we need to go see about her.”

“Do you mean Erma Fairweather?” J.J. asked.

“Yes.”

“I’d love to see her. Oh, but she probably won’t remember me. I always liked Erma. I hope she’s okay.”

“You liked her, yet you had no trouble dropping out of her life and mine?”

J.J. flared at his unfair assessment, but rather than strike back in front of the girls, who were clearly hanging on everything passing between her and Mack, she bit back her comment.

Following another uncomfortable silence, punctuated by Zoey’s sniffling, Mack threw up a hand. “Enough! Let’s take a minute and get to the bottom of this. I hate seeing you so upset, Zoey.” He knew he’d never handled her tears well. And Jill Walker seemed far too anxious to be rid of him. The way she’d stomped on his heart before blithely abandoning Texas still rankled. Having her here felt like unfinished business to Mack and he disliked leaving things undone. Maybe he’d reconsider this stupid contest for no reason other than to annoy the hell out of Jill—or at least put himself in a position to finally extract a bit of revenge.

“Don’t everyone rush to explain,” he said. “How about I take a look at the entry the girls sent in?” Mack held out his hand to J.J.

Thrown off-kilter by his turbulent gray eyes, she leafed through her folder. As she did, she chanced a glimpse at Zoey. The pleading expression in the girl’s teary eyes left no doubt that Zoey didn’t want her dad reading the story she had concocted. Could it be that Mack wasn’t aware of how much his unhappy daughter wanted a mother? J.J. recalled incidents from her own childhood, things her mother later claimed she’d done for the sake of giving J.J. a normal life. When the truth came out, J.J. had been resentful. Despite that, she wasn’t here to offer the Bannermans advice or otherwise interfere in their lives. She wasn’t a psychologist. But...Zoey looked so miserable, the very least J.J. could do was avoid causing added anxiety.

“I have the photos, but apparently not the essay,” she fibbed, carefully extracting the four-by-six photos taped to a blank page. She passed it to Mack, and watched both kids sigh in relief.

Mack studied the top two prints dispassionately. He cringed when he got to the one at the bottom—the one Zoey had taken of him in the bathroom.

J.J. noticed a crimson blush rising up his neck and staining his tanned cheeks. He tugged on one ear, and she recognized it as an old habit of his, especially prevalent whenever he felt uncomfortable. She used to consider it an endearing trait in a guy who was tough in other ways. Her veneer of disinterest started to crack. Perhaps Mack wasn’t so changed from the man she’d once known and loved, after all.

His color still high, Mack handed back the photos. “I can’t pretend to have a clue why Zoey pulled this little stunt. I’m a rancher, not a male model, for God’s sake. Zoey, you said you planned to take photography in junior high next year. If that’s true, I can’t imagine your teacher approving of a student doing this.” He stabbed a finger at the pictures J.J. was busily tucking away.

Brandy was the one to answer. “The fact that Zoey’s photographs were good enough for New York magazine people will impress teachers, Mr. B.” She grinned while Zoey only looked more uncomfortable.

J.J. was beginning to find the whole thing amusing, since Mack didn’t see himself as hot the way
Her Own Woman
’s staff did.

J.J. didn’t like the contest, either, but for now she would keep the girls’ secret, mostly because she liked seeing Mack stew over his decision. Clearly he loved Zoey and didn’t want to disappoint her. How could J.J. not give the guy points for that?

Mack checked his watch. Again he frowned in obvious frustration. “Bug, uh, Zoey, I wish you kids had talked to me before you did any of this. But if you entered me hoping to earn money for my charity, I guess your hearts were in the right place.”

Zoey hunched into her shirt collar. “I’m sorry. We didn’t think you’d totally hate it if you won. I thought it was cool that the magazine picks a reader to bring your check. I thought you’d like a nice woman to go out to dinner with.”

“But why not enter some young guy like Trevor?” Mack asked, referring to the younger of his ranch hands.

“I heard Mom’s cooking club talking about the contest,” Brandy admitted. “You sponsor the charity, Mr. B., so you’re the one who needs to be in the magazine. Last year our class collected stuff like toothpaste and deodorant to send to soldiers. The teachers talked about how you give money to build homes for hurt veterans, so Zoey and me wanted to help get you more money.”

J.J. saw Brandy dig her elbow in Zoey’s side, which prompted that girl to nod vigorously. “Yeah,” she agreed, her big hazel eyes still glossy with tears.

J.J. rolled her own eyes as she listened, sure Mack was being manipulated. The girls were cute as could be, but what a pair. She saw Mack begin to cave and wondered if the kids knew to quit digging themselves a deeper hole when they might be winning.

“Hmm. So, it’s only a one-time story in your magazine, right?” Mack’s eyes bored into J.J.

She could lay out his daughter’s real reason for sending the essay and scare him off, or she could give the girls a break. She’d probably come to regret this later, but she elected to play along for Zoey’s sake. “One time, yes. Each monthly winner gets a four-page spread in the center of the magazine. Yours is slated for our August issue, with a follow-up on the check presentation the next month. I can give you our web address if you’d like to see the other men we’ve worked with. Basically I interview you and write an article about your life, your work and your charity. We’ll include photos of you on a horse and with your cattle, like the pictures Zoey provided, but professional.” She shrugged, figuring he’d bolt for sure if she said readers specifically liked beefcake.

“Well, about the photos Zoey took...” He scowled. “Just so it’s clear...I don’t usually work around the ranch without my shirt on.”

“So, are you gonna do it, Daddy?” Zoey asked, hope creeping into her voice.

Mack was still teetering. He didn’t want Jill Walker here. He certainly didn’t want her poking in his life. He didn’t want her following him around the ranch. But, dammit, neither did he want her to go before he had a chance to ask why she’d dumped him so unceremoniously when he thought they’d settled on a life together. Not that it mattered after all these years. Common sense said Jill wouldn’t be straight with him, anyway. But his common sense fled as he faced her. She still had the power to ignite ripples of desire no other woman had sparked in more years than he could count.

“All right,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll agree because the girls already did what they did, and because your magazine shelled out some bucks to send you here. So I’ll go along with it, Jilly—uh, J.J.”

Zoey and Brandy discreetly bumped elbows, a move so practiced that J.J. guessed it held special meaning for the friends.

J.J. separated another page from her folder. “First things first. Sign and date this release giving me permission to proceed. I’ll scoot on out to the ranch for a few tests with my light meter while you check on Erma. This shouldn’t take more than a few hours to wind up.”

Nodding, Mack ran a thumb over his lips before he took the pen she held out to him. He scribbled his name where J.J. indicated. As he jotted today’s date he was starkly reminded of how many years had passed since this beautiful woman had hurt him so badly. He needed to keep his distance and be vigilant about not letting her hurt him again. Him
or
Zoey. Mack recognized hero worship in both girls’ eyes, and he was already regretting his decision.

“Shouldn’t Ms. J.J. ride with us so she can find our place?” Zoey asked, sunny again.

“My rental car has a GPS system, Zoey. I left it at the motel, but I’ll be fine on my own,” J.J. said.

Mack’s cell rang and he excused himself, turning his back as he took the call. They all saw him massage his neck and heard his tense voice, so their chatter ceased. J.J. was afraid it was bad news about Erma. Instead, he exclaimed, “Trudy, this is a surprise....Uh, Erma’s still in the E.R. How did you hear about her accident so quickly?...It’s kind of you to, uh, want to rush to the ranch to help out....Really, there’s no need. Thanks, though....Hey, sorry to cut you off, but I’m heading to the clinic for a verdict on Erma.” He closed his phone, straightened and turned in time to see Zoey and Brandy making ugly faces.

“Girls! That’s rude. Erma might have a few things to say about Ms. Thorne, but she has a good heart and was just being neighborly.”