Run To Me. Lauren Nichols

to anger. “Did you think I’d leave her wandering the house alone with a man who’s recovering from a stroke? How nice. You barely speak directly to me in two days, and when you finally do, you practically accuse me of negligence.” She pushed past him. “I have to get back to her.”

      “Terri, wait.” Mac grabbed her hand. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I was just concerned. And Amos should have realized that I’d come home and take care of the horses when I saw that a storm was brewing. They would’ve been okay until I got here.”

      “He was sure they’d break through the fence or hurt themselves.”

      “They would have been fine,” Mac repeated.

      Erin took a few seconds to compose herself, then nodded. “All right. I’ll know that next time. And I’m sorry I overreacted about Christie, but I’d never put her at risk. She’s my whole life. Now I have to go. I don’t want her to wake up, be afraid of the storm and find me gone.”

      “I’ll drive you. The truck’s right outside.”

      “What about the horses? Shouldn’t you—”

      “I’ll get some of the water off them after I take you back.” She felt another jolt when he reached behind her neck to pull Amos’s floppy hood up over her wet hair. “We’ll pick up Christie, then I’ll take you both down to the house so you can change. You’re soaked to the skin.”

      “That’s okay. I haven’t started dinner yet.”

      “We’ll order takeout.”

      “Mac, I have chicken thawing.”

      “It’ll keep.” With a hand on her back, he guided her to the open doors at the front of the barn. Rain was still coming down, and thunder rumbled overhead.

      Something must have struck him funny then, because the skin beside his dark eyes crinkled and he started to laugh.

      “What’s so entertaining?” she asked, thinking about being annoyed again.

      Mac fingered her dripping hood and the long wet bangs that stuck to her forehead and sides of her face. “I was just thinking that you’ve done enough today. If you did any more, we’d have to give you hazard pay.”

      Grinning, he gestured through the pounding rain to the truck he’d parked close to the doors. “Okay. Run for it, Terri Fletcher.” And suddenly she was grinning, too.

      They had to run again when they got to the house, though Mac took the truck as close as he could to the porch steps. Amos was there to scold them when they entered, wiping their faces and laughing.

      “Are the two of you daft?” he asked crossly, though there was a hint of humor in his eyes. “Never saw two people more happy to be wet.”

      “Never had so much fun getting wet,” Mac returned, and smiled at Erin. And against every warning bell clanging in her mind, her heart grew wings.

      The mood was still light when he drove Erin and Christie back to their quarters after an early dinner of delivery pizza, tossed salads and fresh apple cobbler. She’d dug in her heels and insisted she didn’t need to change to dry clothes—and eventually Mac had conceded. Besides, she’d pointed out to him, someone had to stay with Amos while he tended the horses. Erin knew it was wrong to feel this content, but she couldn’t stop herself from embracing it. It had been years since she’d laughed over something silly.

      “You’re a good cook,” he said, carrying Christie over the wet grass and up the steps to the house. The heavy rain had stopped, and a smudge of sunlight shone faintly through the thinning cloud cover. He held the door for Erin, then he and Christie followed her inside.

      “Thanks. Of course, the most difficult dish was the pizza.”

      “And it was excellent.” Mac nodded toward his computer room. “Mind if I pick up my e-mail messages before I head back?”

      Feeling a guilty twinge, she said, “Of course not.” Then more casually she added, “I need to get Christie in the tub and ready for bed, so take all the time you want.”

      As the two of them headed for the bathroom, Mac lingered in the doorway, listening.

      “Hey, sweetie pie,” Erin murmured. “How would you like a bubble bath tonight?”

      “Waggedy Ann, too?”

      “Nope. Sorry. Raggedy Ann would take forever to dry, and she likes to sleep with you. You don’t want to sleep in a wet bed, do you?”

      He didn’t hear Christie’s reply because they’d gone into the bathroom, but he assumed she’d said no.

      Mac pushed away from the doorframe and went to his desk, then started his PC. He paused to listen again as the rush of running water and giggles echoed from the bathroom. On the heels of that, the smell of shampoo and bubble bath carried to him. They were nice sounds. Nice smells. A reminder of a life he’d once looked forward to having. But Audra had changed that.

      A nerve leaped in his jaw as he indulged in a little leftover resentment. Then he reminded himself that that part of his life had been over for a long time, and concentrated on his e-mail. There were four messages, one of them from his New Hampshire friend, Shane Garrett, who was just touching base. He answered Shane’s note first, then moved on to the others.

      He hadn’t realized how much time he’d spent until Terri walked in, holding Christie’s hand.

      The sight of the little girl’s rosy cheeks and damp, baby-fine hair curling at the ends brought a smile to his face. “Don’t you look pretty,” he said.

      “I taked a bubbo baff!”

      “You took a bubble bath,” Terri said. “And now it’s time for bed. Can you say good-night to Mr. Corbett?”

      “’Night, Misser Corvet.”

      “Sweet dreams, honey,” Mac answered.

      When Terri returned a few minutes later, all thoughts of Christie vanished. She’d gotten rid of that rubber-band-thing strangling her hair, and now it curved softly over her forehead and brushed her high cheekbones, then fell to her shoulders.

      He tore his gaze away, beginning to hear jungle drums pounding in his head, beginning to feel the heat. “There were no e-mail messages for you. I recognized all the senders. You might want to tell your friends to put your name in the subject line so I don’t open any of your mail by mistake.”

      “That’s a good idea. I haven’t written to anyone yet, but I’ll probably do that soon. Thanks again for letting me use your e-mail address.”

      “Sure.” He paused for a beat. He didn’t want to leave, but there was no offer of coffee tonight. Besides, he had to get back to Amos. Mac ambled to the door, rested a hand on the doorknob. “With the rain and all, I didn’t ask how PT went today.”

      “It went really well, I think. Vicki asked me to come in and watch, so I saw the exercises your granddad is supposed to do—especially on the days he doesn’t have a session. And guess what? He did a few of them when he came home.”

      Mac feigned shock. “You’re kidding. Without being badgered?”

      “Completely on his own. I’m not sure, but I think—and I could be wrong about this—that he wants to please me. I caught him glancing in my direction occasionally when he was doing his leg lifts. I told him if he kept that up, I’d be looking for another job sooner than I’d planned. He seemed to like that.”

      Mac felt a swell of gratitude…and something else he didn’t care to name. In just five short days—without even trying, it seemed—she’d found a place in Amos’s heart. She and Christie both had. He smiled down at her, liking the way she smiled back. “You’re a miracle worker.”

      “I doubt that.”

      “I don’t,” he murmured, and captured her hand. He held it for