Delores Fossen - Lone Star Nights

“We can all go to Dixie Mae’s house in San Antonio, then,” Lucky suggested.

Cassie really hated to be the bearer of more bad news. “She’s already sold it. The new owners apparently closed on it earlier today.”

“When did Dixie Mae arrange that?” he snapped.

Cassie had to shrug. Apparently, her grandmother had been up to a lot of things that Cassie and Lucky hadn’t known about, but from what she could gather, these buyers had agreed to purchase the place months ago and had already done all the paperwork in advance.

Lucky stayed quiet a moment, but the quietness didn’t extend to his eyes. There was a lot going on in his head right now, including perhaps a big dose of panic. “Another hotel, then. Or are you going to tell me every hotel in the state is booked?”

“Told you they wouldn’t want us,” Mackenzie mumbled.

Good grief. This was exactly what Cassie was trying to avoid so she took hold of Lucky’s arm to pull him down the hall. “Watch the girls,” she told Bernie.

Lucky didn’t exactly cooperate with the moving-away-from-them part. “That’s not true,” he told Mackenzie, surprising Cassie, Mackenzie, maybe even himself. “This isn’t about wanting or not wanting you. It’s about, well, some other stuff that has nothing to do with you and Mia.”

Cassie tugged his arm again, and this time she managed to move him up the hall and hopefully out of earshot. “All right, what’s the real problem here?” Cassie demanded. “I mean, other than you don’t want to be home, and this would require you to be. Is it because I’d be there, too?”

He looked at her as if she’d just spontaneously sprouted a full beard on the spot. “What?”

Since that question could cover a multitude of things, Cassie went with the one most obvious to her. “I’ve resisted your advances for years, and you hate me. Now you don’t want me anywhere around you.”

More of the sprouted-full-beard look. “I don’t hate you, and you might not have noticed, but I quit advancing on you a long time ago.”

Ouch. Well, that stung, a lot more than it should have. And it was stupid to feel even marginally disappointed. But there had been something about Lucky’s attention that had made her feel attractive, especially in those days when no other guy was looking her way.

“I don’t hate those kids, either,” Lucky went on. “In fact, the little one’s a sweet girl.” He paused, not exactly hemming and hawing, but it was close.

“Is it because there aren’t enough rooms in your house?” Cassie asked. “Because it looks huge to me.”

“It is huge, and there are plenty of rooms. That’s not the point.” But it still took Lucky a while to get to what the point was exactly. “Logan’s at the house,” he finally said. “His loft apartment in town’s being renovated so he’ll be staying there until it’s finished. Heck, he’s probably there right now.”

She waited, hoping for more of an explanation. Cassie had to wait several long moments.

“Logan and I don’t exactly get along,” he admitted.

“Okay. That’s a valid argument. I understand not getting along with relatives.” Mercy, did she. “But there are advantages to being here in Spring Hill, since it’s where Bernie is. We could be right in his face every day to make sure he’s doing everything he can to resolve this.”

Lucky kept staring at her. Then he turned the tables on her. “What’s really going on here with you?”

Perhaps all those years of seducing women and being seduced by them had honed his perception. Or maybe he had ESP. This definitely wasn’t something she wanted the girls to hear so she pulled Lucky back into Bernie’s office.

“Dixie Mae told Bernie that she thought Mackenzie might be suicidal.” Cassie didn’t add more. Didn’t want to add more. She especially didn’t want Lucky or anyone else to see that just saying those words felt as if someone had clamped on to her heart with a meaty fist and wouldn’t let go.

Breathe.

“If she’s suicidal, why isn’t she in a hospital or someplace where she can get help?” he asked.

“Because she doesn’t have an official diagnosis. That was only Dixie Mae’s opinion. I’ve asked Bernie to try to get Mackenzie’s medical records, but that’ll take a while. By then we should have found their next of kin or made other arrangements.” God, she hoped so anyway.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he pressed.

Yes. Something she wouldn’t tell him, either. Cassie somehow had to get past this so she could try to work out things in her head. If that was even possible.

“I just don’t want Mackenzie to slip through the cracks,” Cassie added. That was true, but it had nothing to do with what she was holding back. “No matter how she dresses or how she acts.”

Though the dressing part did push Cassie’s buttons. Again, old baggage, because it reminded her of her trashy-dressing mother.

“Agreed,” Lucky said right away. “But stating the obvious here, I don’t know squat about kids. Much less ones who might or might not be suicidal.”

Cassie knew more about the suicidal part than she wanted to admit. “If you have another option about where to take them, I’m listening.”

Lucky had no doubt already gone through the options, and it wouldn’t have taken him that long. Because other options didn’t exist. With no next of kin, that left foster care, and while it could be a good thing for some kids, it could spell disaster for someone like Mackenzie, especially if she got placed in a separate home from her sister. Worse, once Cassie signed over the temporary custody, she wouldn’t even have any legal right to check on the girls and make sure they were in good homes.

The muscles in Lucky’s jaw started stirring. “And you really think it’ll only be a day or two at most?”

“I sure hope so. You’re not the only one who’d rather not be here.”

His eyes met hers, and she halfway expected him to ask if he was part of the reason she didn’t want to be there.

He was.

Lucky had a way of stirring things inside her that shouldn’t be stirred. Along with heating parts of her that should remain at room temperature. She had enough bears chasing her without adding Lucky McCord to the furry mix. But adding him was something she was apparently going to have to do.

At least for this guardianship facet of her life anyway. No heating or stirring allowed.

“With the Bluebonnet Inn booked, I don’t have a place to stay,” Cassie added. “And I need some office space. I have a client I have to see. It can’t wait, and she’ll be flying in to San Antonio in the morning. I can have her come to the house, or I can leave you with the girls while I go to San Antonio and meet—”

“You’re not leaving me with the girls. Especially when one might be suicidal. You can have your meeting at the house. There are two offices. My brother Riley’s been using one, but the other one should be free.”

“Thanks.” Of course, office space was really only a minor part of this. “You’ll need to keep the girls away from this particular client.”

That put some concern on his face. “What kind of client is this?”

“The worst kind. A person who’s a celebrity only because she’s a celebrity.”

Lucky really didn’t show any interest in this client anyway, but he probably would when she arrived tomorrow.

“Other than being with this client, you’re not to let Mackenzie out of your sight. Agreed?” Lucky pressed.

“Agreed. Well, except that I’d like to go back over to the funeral home and say a proper goodbye to my grandmother.”

Certainly, he couldn’t deny her that. Even though he looked as if he would do anything to avoid being alone with the girls.