“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