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and his mother. The instant she sat down, the Triple C’s housekeeper placed a hand over hers and squeezed. Mac turned and gave the woman a tearful smile.
    Elena Perez was a beautiful woman, somewhere around her midfifties, with short jet-black hair and brown eyes that flashed with mischief when she was happy. But it was her warm and caring nature that drew Mac to her, made her feel she could strip off her hard-ass ranch foreman armor and allow herself to be vulnerable once in a while.
    Elena may’ve been hired as a housekeeper and cook, but she was truly a master of all things. Shecould do anything she set her mind to: cooking and cleaning, sewing, fixing fences, fixing squabbles, doctoring. And all the while, leaving the comforting scent of lemons and barbecue sauce in her wake.
    Mac had once thought that Elena would’ve been the perfect wife for her father—or maybe it was more that Mac had wanted Elena for a mother. But Travis Byrd had been too blind or too chickenshit or too consumed with getting drunk to ask the beautiful housekeeper out on a date.
    â€œYou all right, Mac, honey?” Elena asked, leaning in, her expression rife with concern. “You look torn up.”
    â€œJust sad,” Mac whispered back. “And funerals are the one place cryin’s not frowned upon.”
    Once again, Elena squeezed her hand. It was such a warm, capable hand. “It’s just you never cry.”
    That almost made Mac smile. It was how all of River Black saw her. Impassive, tough. But, boy, she’d cried plenty in her twenty-five years, especially when she found out Cass had died. But a female ranch foreman didn’t give in to tears or a soft heart outside her bedroom if she wanted the respect of her cowboys.
    â€œI saw Cole,” she whispered. “That’s all.”
    There was a quick, sharp intake of breath from Elena. “Aww, baby girl. I know that must be hard.”
    Hard didn’t even begin to cover it. “He looks so much like her.”
    â€œâ€™Spect so. They being twins and all.” She lowered her voice even further. “I’ve seen all them photo albums. That family has powerful genes. Hell, when I saw James a few minutes ago, I thought he was the spittin’ image of Everett at that age.”
    Once again, Mac’s heart squeezed. “Where’s he sitting?” She’d seen James that morning, offered up her place near the barn, expecting he would probably feel more comfortable being so near the horses with what he did for a living.
    â€œHe’s in the back, by himself,” Elena whispered as several people moved past the casket. “You should’ve heard some of the hens going on about him when we first got here. You’d think they’d never seen him on television.”
    That made Mac smile a little. “James was always the flower who attracted all the honeybees. And now that he’s a famous horse whisperer, it’s probably gotten worse.”
    â€œNever seen eyes that color in my life,” Elena remarked. “Like them pictures of the ocean on postcards from far off places like Bali or Tahiti.”
    â€œThose were his mom’s eyes,” Mac said, with another lurch of her heart. Seemed it was truly the day of mourning.
    Elena continued on as if Mac hadn’t said a word. “Only one I haven’t seen is Deacon.”
    A droplet of sweat serpentined down Mac’s temple to her cheekbone and jaw.
    â€œMaybe he’s not coming,” Elena whispered. “Wouldn’t miss him after all the crap he’s pulled these past few years . . .” Her voice trailed off for a second, then, “Going after the ranch any darn way he could.”
    The scent of too many floral arraignments pushed into Mac’s nostrils. “He’s coming. I saw his million-dollar helicopter fly overhead when Blue and I were rescuing the cow earlier.”
    Elena’s eyes widened.