Mac turned back to Erin, his expression resolute. “About that appointment... How about five tomorrow evening?”
“It’ll take at least two hours,” Erin hedged, “and the store closes at six.”
“So we’ll make it four o’clock,” Nicholas interjected practically.
Erin’s jaw dropped. Since when did her brother schedule things for her?
He shrugged at her look.
The tall interloper beamed. “I’d sure appreciate that.”
Erin gave up arguing about it. “It is going to cost you triple for a rush job,” she warned. “Which means the price would likely be closer to twelve thousand dollars for a pair of boots, if you want them by June first.”
So if that seemed utterly ridiculous to him...
To her frustration, it didn’t.
“No problem,” Mac said as he plucked his phone out of his suit jacket, checking the screen. “Sorry. I have to take this,” he murmured, then stepped outside into the May sunshine.
* * *
“A LITTLE HARD ON HIM, weren’t you, sis?” Nicholas asked, the moment Mac Wheeler was out of earshot.
Erin knew she hadn’t been as warm and welcoming as she normally would have been to a customer. Maybe because she was way too attracted to the sexy businessman. And these days, with all she had on her shoulders, lust was the last thing she needed to feel. “It annoys me when people insist on jumping line. I think they should wait their turn like everyone else, no matter how much of a hurry they’re in.” She slipped behind the counter, where another box of merchandise waited to be opened.
“That’s not the way the world works,” Nicholas countered as he moved to help her unpack it. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t need the money. With the electricity rates and the property taxes on the ranch both going sky-high, Bess and Bridget still in college, and me about to go next...”
Their budget was stretched to the limit, despite the store’s continued success.
The door opened. Mac Wheeler strode back in, sunglasses on. The set of his mouth was as tense as his shoulders. “I’m going to have to head East.”
Erin nodded, not the least bit surprised to see him running off again. Wasn’t that the pattern of all the men she was attracted to? Here one moment, gone the next?
He consulted the calendar on his phone. “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. So if we could move the appointment to Wednesday afternoon at four?”
He’d been a customer less than ten minutes and was already demanding more special treatment, Erin noted irritably.
Her little brother regarded Mac with hero worship. “No problem. We’re here whenever you need us.”
“I appreciate that.” Mac touched an index finger to his forehead in a salute. “Nicholas, Ms. Monroe, I’ll see you then.”
* * *
MAC GOT IN LATE and promptly took care of the personal situation that had summoned him home. Midmorning the following day, he stopped by corporate headquarters in downtown Philadelphia, to give his boss an update.
Louise Steyn motioned him into her office and shut the door behind them. Elegant as always in a tailored designer suit, she slipped behind her desk. “When do you think you’ll have this deal wrapped up?”
Mac settled in a chair opposite her. “Another month, maybe two.”
“What’s the holdup?” she asked.
How could he explain that even their company’s name—North Wind Energy—was offensive to the prickly Texans? “It’s complicated.”
“Laramie County should be jumping at the chance to lower their electric rates.”
Maybe they would be if it had been a community comprised mostly of suburban homes, and the size of their electric bills was the only quandary, Mac reasoned. “There are a lot of ranches. The residents are very attached to the land, and how each property looks.”
Louise shrugged. “They’ll like clean, plentiful, renewable energy even more.”
“I’m on it,” he promised. All he needed was a decent forum to make his pitch, and a place to situate the wind farm. He had the first and was close to getting the other.
Louise paused to look him in the eye. “Everything okay at home? I heard there was some kind of crisis that brought you back to Philly last night.”
Mac thought about the tears—from both females—that had greeted his arrival. “I’m handling it.”
Louise gave him the same look she’d given him two and a half years before. “If there’s anything you need in that respect...” she volunteered.
He ignored the tinge of pity in her manner. Life went on. The difficulty he was navigating was only temporary. “Thanks,” he said quietly, rising from his chair. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The meeting over, he turned and headed out.
Selling a project he could handle. Dealing with the domestic drama on the home front? He could manage that, too, with a few temporary adjustments. It was the pretty owner of Monroe’s Western Wear who was a thorn in his side.
Mac knew she was one of the most respected businesspeople in town. Heck, if you considered the reputation of the boots Erin Monroe made, in the entire state. People listened to her. And not just because she was smart and savvy, warm and hospitable. Or had an enticing figure, honey-blond curls and big green eyes.
They paid attention to her because she was a natural leader. The kind of person who could make something take place. Or not.
If she was as against the wind farm as she had appeared in their brief conversation, he was going to have a tough time bringing North Wind Energy’s biggest project yet to fruition.
But that had to happen—and fast—because making it a reality was the only way he was going to be able to get his home life under control, once and for all.
Chapter Two
Erin was in her second-floor studio, putting the finishing touches on a pair of custom boots to be picked up later that afternoon, when Darcy Purcell, her best friend, part-time employee—and next customer—stuck her head in. “He’s back. And he’s not alone.”
Erin didn’t even need to ask who “he” was. Mac Wheeler had been the source of endless speculation in the two days he had been gone. Partly because he had left town so suddenly that he’d had to cancel half a dozen appointments with landowners. The rest, because he had managed to talk her into allowing him to skip the line and get fitted for a pair of custom boots at triple the asking price. That action alone had cemented his reputation with the locals as a foolhardy Yankee.
After all, no one in Laramie wasted money, if they could help it.
Erin wrapped the boots in tissue paper and put them in a box emblazoned with the customer’s name. “I could care less,” she said, pushing aside the memory of the attractive interloper.
Darcy followed Erin downstairs to the cash register. “Don’t you want to know what I heard?”
“No.” Erin set the boots beneath the counter, then frowned as a sleek black limo with tinted windows pulled up at the curb. The rear door on the driver’s side opened and Mac emerged. His strides long and lazy, he circled around the back of the vehicle, then walked into the rustic interior of her family’s store.
If anything, with his dark hair rumpled and his blue eyes intent, he was more devastatingly handsome than ever. Wearing khaki slacks, a button-up shirt and