The Texas Cowboy's Quadruplets. Cathy Thacker Gillen

      He lounged against the wall, arms folded in front of him. “The fate of your dad’s company.”

      Needing some distance between them, Mitzy walked around her dad’s desk, then stood facing him with her hands hooked over the back of the chair. She gestured at the dust gathering everywhere she looked. “Obviously, I need to cowgirl up and get it back on track.”

      He nodded seriously, then warned, “Before you can do that, however, you’re going to have to assess the depth of the damage.”

      His sexy baritone kindled new heat inside her. Aware he was watching her, gauging her reactions as carefully as she was measuring his, she tilted her chin. “You think there’s more?”

      “There usually is.”

      She inhaled deeply. Breathed out slowly. And tried not to panic considering what else she hadn’t been aware of and didn’t yet know.

      “You’re speaking of some of the small companies you’ve purchased and turned around,” she guessed.

      He nodded.

      Before he could say more, a loud knock sounded on the outer door of the facility. Mitzy looked at Chase. “Expecting anyone?”

      “No. You?”

      With a mystified shake of her head, Mitzy crossed the cement facility floor. Her sixty-seven-year-old stepfather was standing on the other side, in the usual expensive sport coat, slacks and button-down. His thick silver hair was as neatly combed as always, his eyes warm and assessing behind the silver-rimmed glasses.

      “Your mother sent me to check on you,” Walter Fiedler said. “She was worried about you being here alone, but—” his glance took in Mitzy’s just-kissed state and moved to Chase “—I guess she needn’t have been. Hello, Chase.” He extended his hand.

      Chase stepped up with his usual masculine grace. “Walter.”

      “Good to see you.”

      “Likewise.”

      The two men exchanged polite smiles. An awkward silence fell.

      Walter turned back to Mitzy. “I don’t mean to pressure you, dear, but I think your mother’s feelings are a little hurt by the way you disappeared so soon after we arrived. So if you could wrap this up...and come back to the house soon...?”

      Inundated by guilt, Mitzy said, “I’ll be right there, I promise.”

      The older gentleman nodded in approval, then turned back to Chase. “Will you be joining us for Thanksgiving dinner? Judith’s cooking all of Mitzy’s favorites.”

      It wasn’t such a far-fetched assumption to make, given the two men had initially met at a Thanksgiving dinner, hosted by her mom, years before. Before Mitzy could decline on Chase’s behalf, a spark of mischief lit his eyes. “What time?” he asked genially.

      “Two o’clock.”

      “Consider me in, then.”

      “Splendid.” Walter opened the door. “See you shortly.” He headed back to his Bentley.

      Mitzy turned back to her ex. Another silence fell, this one more fraught with tension than the last. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why he had just accepted an invitation that would have them spending even more potentially awkward time together. Unless it was to get under her skin. A feat that he had always been able to do extremely well. “You really don’t have to feel beholden to attend.”

      He shrugged, once again about as movable as a boulder. “I’m not.”

      Her nipples pearled under the hot male intensity of his gaze. “Surely, you have a McCabe family function.”

      He hovered closer, apparently done talking business—for the moment, anyway. “At eight this evening. Two of my brothers are working today, so my mom pushed our holiday gathering back until later. But if you’d rather not have me there to act as a buffer between you and your mother, I’d completely understand.”

      How well he knew her. And Judith.

      She studied him, tamping down the whisper of long-suppressed desire, and the notion they might ever make love again. “You’d really put yourself in the line of fire?” she asked, emotions in turmoil.

      He tipped his head at her. “For you, darlin’?” He winked. “I’d even put on that sport coat and tie I’ve got in the back of my truck.”

      Mitzy had almost forgotten how turned on she got by this inherently gallant side of him and it reinforced what she had to do. “How about, then,” she suggested brazenly, “we take it one step further...”

      * * *

      Chase had not seen Judith since he and Mitzy had broken up. He wasn’t surprised to see the petite dynamo hadn’t changed. Except to get thinner and blonder and even more elegant than she had been then.

      “You’re doing what?” the older woman gaped, after a brief explanation had been made.

      “Going to work together to find closure,” Mitzy repeated. She lifted a hand in traffic-cop fashion. “I know it sounds really basic, and in a sense it is, Mother, but the truth is Chase and I never really ended our engagement in a proper—or healthy—manner. And that lapse has kept us both from moving on the way we should.”

      Chase knew that to be true for him.

      He’d never gotten over losing Mitzy.

      It was a shock to hear her admit it so openly, though.

      “As a social worker, I should have realized this a whole lot sooner,” Mitzy opined, taking Chase by the hand, and leading him all the way into her cozy but well-equipped kitchen. She gestured for him to take a stool at the island, next to Walter, then sat down beside him. “But I didn’t and now that I have, I want to do something about it.”

      “Mmm-hmm.” Judith looked up from the mushroom tartlet canapés she was arranging on a silver tray.

      Like Mitzy, she was dressed in a chic dress and heels. A strand of diamonds glittered at her neck.

      Judith smoothed a hand over her pristine white chef’s apron. “And how long is this going to take?”

      Mitzy paused, seeming to be taken aback by the inquiry. “Um. I’m not sure.” She looked at Chase as if waiting to be rescued again. “At least...?”

      “Through the holidays,” he decided.

      That would give him plenty of time to figure out what that incredible kiss they’d shared earlier meant. Was she still, as it had seemed, as turned on by him as he was by her? Still privately wishing they’d never broken up. Or trying to prove to them both that it really was over between them. Romantically, anyway.

      Judith exchanged a look of concern with her husband. “And then what?” she asked.

      Mitzy shrugged. “We say goodbye.”

      Or not, Chase thought, figuring that could be negotiated, too. “When did you conclude all of this?” Judith asked.

      Pink color swept into Mitzy’s high sculpted cheeks. “Chase stopped by to see me a few days ago. And I, ah, I guess I started putting it all together. Today, I realized I should start following the advice I give my social work clients, and work though the residual emotions so I can move on.”

      “And, of course,” Chase added sincerely, “I want to do that, too.” More than Mitzy knew.

      In fact, he had wanted to help her for months now. But worrying his presence would make her grieving worse, he had stayed away.

      “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” Judith asked.

      Mitzy rose and went to pour glasses of chilled sparkling water for everyone, handing the elders theirs first. “Because I knew you’d probably think it was all unnecessary and wouldn’t