Mackenzie clammed up again, and even though he looked at Mia to see how she was dealing with all of this, she was swinging her legs, humming to herself and rolling the silver foil from her gum into a little ball. Lucky would have pressed Mackenzie for more info, or rather any info, but he heard the footsteps coming up the hall.
Finally.
He stood, moving in front of the girls in case Cassie and Bernie had to tell him something that wasn’t meant for those big ears. But selective muteness must have been catching because Bernie sure wasn’t talking, and Cassie dodged his gaze.
“Well?” Lucky finally prompted in a whisper. Probably not a soft enough one because Mackenzie and Mia weren’t doing any gaze-dodging at all. They had their baby blues pinned to him.
“We reached a solution,” Cassie said.
“Good?” And, yes, it was a question. One they didn’t answer. “All right, where are they going?”
Bernie and Cassie exchanged uneasy glances. “Home,” Bernie answered, looking right at Lucky. “With you.”
“HOME, WITH ME?” Lucky said.
All in all, Lucky took the news about as well as Cassie had expected. He added, “No.” And he kept on adding to that no. “It’s crazy there now what with Riley and Claire’s wedding coming up. They’re getting married in the house.”
She knew Riley and Claire, of course. Had even heard about Riley leaving the Air Force and getting engaged to Claire. But Cassie hadn’t known about the wedding planning. Still, their options were limited here.
“It’ll only be for a day or two,” Cassie reminded him. She also tried to keep her voice at a whisper, but there wasn’t much distance between them and the kids. It didn’t help that Mackenzie was glaring at her.
“You don’t know that,” Lucky argued. “He doesn’t know that.” He flung an accusing finger at Bernie. “I’ll get us all rooms in the Bluebonnet Inn—”
“I’ve already tried,” Cassie explained, “and they’re all booked for the high school reunion, class of 1948.” Some might cancel because they weren’t spring chickens and might not be able to make it, but Cassie couldn’t count on that.
“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