Barbara McCauley - Taming Blackhawk

“Why did you want me to stay?”

“Rand needs a woman like you right now,” Mary said.

Grace missed a beat on the swing, then picked it up again. “Excuse me for saying so, Mrs. Sloan, but I don’t think your son needs anyone, especially me.”

Mary laughed softly. “That’s where you’re wrong, Grace. I know my boy and I know what I see. He might not even know it yet, but believe me, he needs you.”

“Mrs. Sloan—”

“Mary.”

“Mary,” Grace said, shaking her head. “I came here because I need Rand’s help. He turned me down flat. The only reason I’m still here is because you asked me to stay.”

“And I’m glad you did.” Mary patted Grace’s hand. “It was refreshing to have another woman around. Sometimes living out here, without any woman friends stopping by for coffee or cookies, makes me forget I’m a woman myself.”

The sound of a baseball game blasted from inside the house, and Mary’s eyes lit up. “Well, I suppose I should go take a look at what they bought me,” she said matter-of-factly. “Wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings.”

“Would you mind if I sat out here for a while?” Grace asked. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been away from the city lights.”

“Take your time,” Mary said. “I’ll make sure my boys save a piece of cake for you.”

“No easy task, I’m sure,” Grace teased.

Smiling, Mary went back into the house. With a sigh, Grace settled back in the swing and mentally went over the events of the afternoon and evening. The Sloan family perplexed her. The sons had buried their father, Mary her husband, but Edward Sloan’s name had not been mentioned once amongst them. Mary had plainly said that Rand and his father did not get along. Then the boys had given their mother a television for her birthday, only it really wasn’t her birthday.

Rand needs a woman like you.

That comment from Mary had to be the most perplexing of all. Though there was no question there was chemistry between herself and Rand, Mary certainly hadn’t been speaking of need in a physical nature. She’d been speaking of something else, something on a deeper, more meaningful level. Grace couldn’t imagine what Mary meant, but it really didn’t matter at this point.

Grace couldn’t put it off any longer. It was almost nine and she needed to leave in a few minutes. It was a long drive back to San Antonio. She’d need to find a place to stay for the night, then catch the first flight back to Dallas tomorrow.

She knew she was leaving her last hope behind her, but she refused to think about that right now. Grace knew that she was still foolish enough to believe in miracles, and she also knew that it would take one now to save those mustangs.

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