Free McKettrick's Heart by Linda Lael Miller Page A

though she felt him watching her, Molly looked his way.
    Smiled, probably because of the donkey.
    Keegan hooked a finger under his shirt collar, trying to loosen it. It was the heat, he figured. The air seemed charged, and he actually looked up, expecting to see storm clouds.
    The first stars winked in a clear, placid sky.
    Emma tugged at his sleeve, whispered, “Keegan. You’re staring.”
    Molly spoke to Psyche, then strolled his way.
    â€œI guess it’s never too soon to start practicing for the Christmas pageant,” she said, her eyes warming as she took in poor, bedraggled Spud. “Are you playing Joseph this year?”
    â€œI’d better go and find the girls, make sure they don’t eat too much cotton candy and spoil their supper,” Emma said before Keegan could respond, and promptly vanished.
    Keegan swallowed.
    Molly smiled, clearly enjoying his discomfort. Then, as Emma had done, she stroked Spud’s long face, threw in an ear-ruffling for good measure.
    Spud lifted his head and brayed.
    Keegan felt like doing the same thing, and that made him set his back teeth.
    Molly’s leaf-colored eyes shone with amusement, turned tender when she looked at the donkey again. The blue cloth flower, pinned to the turned-up brim of her hat, bobbed. “We have to be civil to each other, Keegan,” she said quietly. “Because of Lucas.”
    He sighed. Wished she’d look at him the way she was looking at the donkey. “I can be civil,” he said without a trace of civility. “And that is a really goofy-looking hat. Does that flower squirt water?”
    She laughed, and the sound gave Keegan the same quivery feeling in the pit of his stomach that he used to get when he was rodeoing, back in college, with Rance and Jesse. Just before he climbed the side of a chute and lowered himself onto the back of a pawing, snorting bull, crazy to buck. “I wish it did,” she said. “I’d like nothing better than to let you have it right about now.”
    Against his will Keegan grinned. Loosened his hold on Spud’s reins a little so the critter could munch on the well-kept municipal grass. Psyche, sitting up straight in her lawn chair, smiled tentatively and waved.
    Keegan’s grin faded. “It isn’t right,” he said.
    Molly, still petting the donkey, turned to follow his gaze, looked back at his face. “Don’t spoil this night for her by being sad,” she told him.
    He worked up another smile, waved to Psyche. “Better?” he asked.
    â€œMuch better,” Molly said.
    Lucas came toddling toward them, his face alight. He was barefoot, wearing nothing but a diaper.
    Molly probably knew as well as Keegan did that Spud was the big attraction, not either of them. Still, it did something to Keegan, watching that little boy toddle across the grass.
    Keegan handed Molly the reins, went to meet Lucas and swept him up in his arms. Over the child’s head he saw Psyche watching with a faint smile.
    â€œRide!” Lucas crowed, straining for the donkey. “Ride!”
    â€œNot tonight, buddy,” Keegan said, shifting Lucas onto his hip so he could reach out and pat Spud’s neck.
    Spud twitched his spindly tail a couple of times.
    â€œRide!” Lucas yelled.
    â€œAnother time,” Keegan told the child quietly, looking into Molly’s eyes again. Feeling as though he’d just tumbled headfirst down some storybook rabbit hole.
    â€œWhy not?” Molly asked, reaching for Lucas, soothing him.
    â€œSpud’s been abused,” Keegan said, indicating the donkey with a motion of his head. “He’d probably mind his manners, but until I know that for sure, I’m not putting Psyche’s child on his back.”
    Molly’s mouth tightened, probably because he’d said Psyche’s child. The flower on her hat jostled around some more as she bounced Lucas on her hip, whispered to him. The boy