The Taming of Tyler Kincaid

by Sandra Marton

Travis leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Damned right we are,” he said gruffly, and shot a hard look at his father. “It’s just too bad it took so long for our old man to come to his senses.”

  “Came to ’em, didn’t I?” Jonas said. “That’s what counts.”

  “Yeah,” Slade said, “but only after you got jerked around by some no-account con man from Atlanta—”

  “Slade,” Travis and Gage both said, but it was too late.

  “Hell,” Slade mumbled. “I didn’t mean…Catie, Sugar, I shouldn’t have—”

  “Tyler,” Caitlin said, and wondered how she could sound so calm and cool when her heart was lifting into her throat. “You’re talking about Tyler Kincaid.”

  “Well, go on,” Jonas said. “Tell her.”

  Slade took a deep breath. “Yeah. We’re talking about that son of a bitch, Kincaid.” He reached for her hand and clasped it tightly in his. “The bastard took you in, Caitlin. I wish there were some easier way to say it, but—”

  “Took me in, how?”

  Again, the sound of her own voice surprised her. Maybe it was because whatever her brothers were about to tell her would be no surprise. Oh, the details might be, but in her heart she’d known all along that Tyler was too good to be true. That such a strong, passionate, tender man should have come into her life had to have been either a miracle or a mistake, and she’d always known that life didn’t deal in miracles.

  “Took me in, how?” she repeated, as she took her hand from Slade’s and rose to her feet.

  Her brothers looked at each other. Gage cleared his throat. “He wants Espada.”

  “No.” Caitlin looked from one unsmiling face to the other. “No, you’re wrong about that. He doesn’t want—”

  “He does.” Travis cleared his throat, too. “Seems they found oil in the west range. Lots of oil. It’s gonna bring in a lot of money.”

  “Jonas?” Caitlin turned to her stepfather. “Is that true? How come you didn’t tell me?”

  “Only got the final reports a couple o’ weeks ago,” Jonas said. “I didn’t want to say nothin’ till I was sure and by the time I was, Kincaid was sniffin’ around this place like a dog after a lost bone.”

  “Sniffing around me, you mean,” Caitlin said quietly. The room was warm but her skin prickled as if a chill wind were blowing. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at her brothers. “Jonas warned me. He said Tyler was after more than me, but I wouldn’t listen.”

  “Oh, darlin’,” Travis said softly, and rose to his feet. “Catie—”

  “No. No, I’m fine. Just tell me the rest. There’s more, isn’t there?”

  Gage stood up. “Nothing you need to hear, sweetheart. Jonas says you’ve broken up with the bastard, so—”

  “I haven’t,” she said, with her head held high. “He’s broken up with me. And you’re wrong, I do need to hear it. Tell me the rest.”

  Slade sighed and rose from the corner of the sofa. “The son of a bitch has a woman, back in Atlanta.”

  Caitlin couldn’t help it. A soft moan slipped from her lips and she slapped both hands over her mouth, as if to keep in the cries that might follow it.

  “A woman,” she repeated quietly.

  “Name of Aay-dreee-anna,” Jonas said, drawing out the syllables as if the name were part of some complex, foreign tongue. “Jes’ the type you’d figure him for. Looks like one of them models in a magazine.”

  “Beautiful,” Caitlin whispered. “Sophisticated. Elegant.”

  Gage, Travis and Slade shared another look. We’re going after Tyler Kincaid, the look said, and when we find him, we’re going to beat the crap out of him.

  “Phony as a three-dollar bill,” Travis said coldly.

  “All surface,” Slade said, “no substance.”

  “They deserve each other,” Gage added grimly, and the brothers nodded.

  “You cannot believe the story the man made up,” Jonas said. His sons and his stepdaughter looked at him and he shook his head and sighed. “Nobody would.”

  “You mean, that he was a drifter?” Caitlin said quietly. “Or—or that he was interested in me?”

  “Catie,” her brothers said, but Jonas’s voice overrode theirs.

  “You all know ’bout that grave up on the hill, that it’s the restin’ place of my first wife, who died in childbirth.” He paused, looked at their faces and gave a deep sigh. “I loved that woman with all my heart. It damn near killed me, losin’ her, along with my firstborn. It was a black day in my life. Now here we are, all these years later, a no-account liar named Tyler Kincaid comes walkin’ onto my land. My land,” Jonas said, thumping his chest, his voice rising, “and tells me he’s gonna tell my kith an’ kin a trumped up story of how my firstborn didn’t die, a story that makes him out to be that child—”

  “What?” Caitlin said. “What?”

  “That’s exactly what I said. I said, ‘What are you talkin’ about, Kincaid?’ An’ he laughed and said he’d found out about the oil on Espada, an’ if I didn’t sign the ranch over to him, he’d tell the world this ugly lie, that he’d drag the Baron name through the mud.”

  “But that’s crazy.” Caitlin looked at her stepfather. “He’s Tyler Kincaid. He’s got more money than he knows what to do with. He—”

  “What he’s got is the pedigree of a mongrel dog. He ain’t nobody. Even the name ‘Tyler Kincaid’ is a lie.”

  “That’s one hell of a performance, old man.”

  Everyone in the room turned around. Tyler stood in the doorway, dressed as Caitlin knew she’d always remember him, in a black T-shirt, faded jeans and boots, his hands on his hips and a look of contempt curled across his mouth.

  “It’s so good,” he said, with a cold smile, “that I’m almost tempted to believe it myself.”

  “Git off my land, Kincaid,” Jonas said. His three sons started forward with fury in their eyes but Caitlin ran past them, to Tyler.

  “Tell me Jonas is wrong,” she whispered. “Tyler?” She looked up at him, at the man to whom she’d given her heart. “Tell me he’s wrong.”

  “He can’t.” Jonas’s voice was cold. “Ain’t that right, Kincaid? You can’t tell her I’m wrong, cause I’m not.”

  Caitlin put her hand on Tyler’s arm, felt the power of the tightly coiled muscles beneath his skin.

  “Please, Tyler.” Her voice broke. “Tell me it’s all a lie. What Jonas said. About you claiming you’re his son. About you not really being somebody named Tyler Kincaid…”

  Tyler touched the back of his hand to her cheek. “I can’t do that, Cait.”

  A sob ripped from Caitlin’s throat. “I loved you,” she said brokenly, “oh God, I loved you!”

  “Cait,” Tyler said urgently, “listen to me. Let me tell you the whole story.”

  “You’ve told our sister enough stories,” one of the Barons said, but Tyler ignored him.

  “Caitlin,” he said, “I love you.”

  “He’s lyin’,” Jonas said.

  “Did you hear me, Cait?” Tyler’s voice was low and rough. “I love you. I’ve never said those words to another woman. Only to you.”

  Caitlin wanted to believe him. Oh, she wanted to believe that Tyler’s kisses, his whispers, his caresses had been the truth, that he loved her as she loved him…

  “Is there a woman waiting for you in Atlanta?” she said. “A woman named Adrianna?”

  A muscle knotted in his jaw. “Yes. But it’s not—”

  Her hand whirred through the air and cracked against his cheek.

  “Get out,” she sobbed. “Get out, get out, get out!”

  Tyler looked down into Caitlin’s tear-stained face. Now was the time to tell her, to tell her brothers, everything. His briefcase was in his truck. All the proof he needed was inside it. All he had to do was get it and he’d destroy Jonas, wipe those looks of hatred from his sons’ faces.

  But the truth wouldn’t take the emptiness from Caitlin’s eyes. It wouldn’t change the fac
t that he’d planned to gain Espada and destroy it. And, all at once, he knew that the things he’d come here for today—the destruction of Jonas Baron, vengeance for himself and for the woman who’d borne him—were insignificant.

  The only thing that mattered, that could change his life, was the love he’d found in Caitlin McCord’s arms.

  “Cait,” he said, his eyes only for her, “Cait, if you ever loved me, then love me now. Trust me. Give me your hand and come with me.”

  He almost thought she was going to do it. He saw, just for a second, the love shining in her tear-studded eyes, just as he’d seen it the last time he’d held her in his arms. But then her brothers stepped forward and surrounded her. Travis stood to her left, Slade to her right. Gage took up position behind her and put his hand on Caitlin’s shoulder. She lifted her hand and lay it over Gage’s.

  “Cait?” Tyler said.

  The look on her face was all the answer he needed.

  He turned, a man whose heart had been ripped from his chest, and walked from the house and down the steps. He reached his truck, opened the door…and stopped. No. Hell, no. He wasn’t going to let it end like this. He loved Caitlin. She loved him. He was going back into that house and if he had to fight all three of her brothers, he’d do it. He’d do whatever he had to do to get her alone, to make her listen.

  He’d taken Caitlin McCord out of this house by force once before and, by God, he’d do it again.

  Tyler swung away from the truck, started back to the house…and the front door opened.

  “Tyler,” Caitlin cried, “Tyler, wait.”

  A smile lit his face as she flew down the steps toward him. “Cait,” he said, and caught her in his arms. “Cait, sweetheart…”

  Her brothers ran out the door. “Kincaid, you son of a bitch,” one of them yelled.

  Tyler could feel the adrenaline pumping. He pushed Caitlin behind him and stood ready to take the Barons on. Suddenly Jonas pushed past his sons.

  “Caitlin,” he roared, “Caitlin, you get back here…”

  The old man clutched his chest and teetered at the top of the steps. Then he tumbled down them, hit the ground and lay still.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE hospital was big and modern. It had a brand-new cardiac care wing that had been built with the money of half a dozen oil-and-cattle rich Texans. Each benefactor had some part of the wing named for him. A small atrium. A patient library. A roof garden. A chapel.

  The waiting room had been named for Jonas. Tyler wondered at the irony of the Barons gathering in a room named for the clan’s head as they waited to hear if the old man was going to live or die. The greater irony was that he should be seated among them. He didn’t give a damn what happened to Jonas. And he knew Jonas’s sons would rather have had a rattlesnake in their midst than him, but none of that mattered.

  Caitlin wanted him here. That was all he cared about.

  He’d stood back as Jonas’s sons, his wife and stepdaughter knelt beside the old man after he’d fallen. He’d kept his distance when the ambulance came and Jonas was taken away. Marta had ridden with her husband. Caitlin’s brothers had climbed into one car and called out to her but she’d taken Tyler’s hand, her face white and stricken.

  “Stay with me,” she’d pleaded, and after that, the hounds of hell couldn’t have kept him from her side.

  Her brothers had started to object but they must have seen something in his face because one of them said this was a stupid time to stand around and argue. A short while later, they’d all crowded into the waiting room. Not that the room was small. On the contrary. It was handsome and expansive, but the place seemed packed, just the same.

  Tyler figured it had to do with all the emotions hanging in the air.

  Marta sat in a corner of a long beige sofa. Her shoulders were straight, her expression calm, but her hands trembled when Gage handed her a cup of coffee.

  Caitlin was with Marta, holding her hand, talking quietly to her. Every once in a while she looked up and her eyes sought Tyler’s, as if to be sure he was still there.

  Yes, his eyes said in return, I’m here, Cait. I’ll always be here, as long as you want me.

  Slade, Travis and Gage looked at him occasionally, too. Their faces were taut with anger and he knew it wasn’t because of anything they thought he’d done to Jonas; it was because they believed he’d hurt their stepsister. He knew it was crazy, that all three of them would try to beat him senseless first chance they got and that he’d undoubtedly take at least two of them with him before he went down, but he liked them.

  How could he not like men who loved Caitlin so deeply?

  Looking at them gave him an eerie feeling. They were his brothers. Well, his half brothers. They carried his blood, just as he carried theirs. He could see bits of himself in them, too. Travis’s green eyes. Slade’s dark hair. The shape of Gage’s nose and even the way he walked…

  And none of them would ever know it.

  He wasn’t going to tell the Barons who he was. What for? Jonas was old and broken, perhaps dying. Only a coward would see any sense in inflicting pain on a broken man. The truth would only fall like a yoke on the necks of the old man’s wife and sons. No. No, there was no reason or purpose in inflicting pain on innocent people.

  Tyler jammed his hands into his pockets and looked out the window.

  Someday, he might tell Caitlin, but only because he didn’t want any lies between them. There was no need to tell her now. Let her keep her memories of her stepfather. Let her inherit the ranch she loved without his doing anything to sully the process. He knew he’d have to tell her something but he’d come up with an explanation that would explain why he’d come to Espada in the first place, something she’d accept in lieu of Jonas’s poisonous lies.

  “Mrs. Baron?”

  Tyler turned around. The doctor had entered the room. Marta and Caitlin had risen to their feet and stood facing him; Gage, Travis and Slade gathered around the women.

  Tyler stayed where he was.

  “Mrs. Baron…Marta.” Esteban O’Connor took her hand. “Jonas had a heart attack.”

  Marta nodded. “Is he—will he survive?”

  “Yes, I think so. It was a mild attack, and your husband is a strong man.” O’Connor cleared his throat. “But he fractured his leg when he fell, and severed a blood vessel. We’ve stopped the bleeding but he’s going to need a transfusion.”

  “Well, give him one, man,” Gage said impatiently.

  “We will. The lab’s searching our rare blood donor list right now.”

  Slade frowned. “Your what?”

  “Jonas needs blood from a special donor. He has a rare blood type. He had surgery before, years ago, and a transfusion.”

  “His gallbladder,” Marta said.

  “Yes. The transfusion saved his life, but because he has a rare blood type, he received an incompatible transfusion and made an anti-k antibody…” O’Connor shook his head. “Look, it’s complicated. The bottom line is, Jonas needs blood from a donor who is negative for the k antigen.”

  The brothers looked at each other. “Well,” Travis said, after a minute, “don’t those things run in families?” He held out his arm, as if there were a needle and a technician waiting. “You got all three of Jonas Baron’s sons standin’ right in front of you, Steve. Just take what you need.”

  “I wish it were that simple, but it takes twenty-four hours to run the tests to check for the antigen and to test the safety of the blood.”

  “I have the blood you need, Doctor.” The little group stared at Tyler as he walked slowly toward them. “My name is Tyler Kincaid. I’ve been a blood donor for years, and they typed me as being k antigen negative.”

  O’Connor grinned. “Son of a gun. You’ll be on our rare blood list.”

  “I know I am.”

  Slade cleared his throat. “Steve? I thought you just said—I thought you said this k negative stuff is rare.”

  “It is. Only three people out of
a thousand are k antigen negative.”

  The room fell silent. Tyler hesitated, but he knew it was time for the truth. “Jonas Baron is my father,” he said quietly.

  “It’s a lie,” Gage said, but Slade motioned him to silence.

  “It’s the truth.” Tyler gave a bitter laugh. “Believe me, I’m no happier about it than you are.” He turned to Caitlin. “I didn’t know it, when I came here,” he said softly. “I only knew that I’d been born on Espada. Then I learned I was Jonas’s son. And when I did, I was determined to destroy him.”

  Caitlin jerked back, as if he’d struck her. “By seducing me,” she whispered, and Tyler wanted to take her in his arms, tell her she was wrong, that he loved her, that what had happened between them had nothing to do with vengeance…

  But the doctor was already asking him questions, drawing him aside, clapping him on the back and telling the stunned little group gathered around him that patients like Jonas owed their lives to voluntary blood donors like Tyler.

  “It’s the gift of life,” O’Connor said, and Tyler wondered if only he saw the bitter irony in those words.

  By the time he broke free and turned around, Caitlin was gone.

  Everything went quickly after that.

  They hustled Tyler away to be poked, prodded and questioned. Finally, in a small, quiet room, he lay back and let a technician draw his blood. When she’d finished, she gave him a bright smile and slapped a gauze pad over the vein in his arm.

  “There,” she said briskly. “That’s it, Mr. Baron.”

  “Kincaid,” Tyler said. “My name is Tyler Kincaid.”

  The woman colored. “Of course. Sorry, Mr. Kincaid.”

  He nodded, did his best to make it look as if he was paying attention to her instructions, but all he could think about was that he’d reached the end of his journey. He’d found his identity, found his brothers, found the only woman he’d ever love—and lost them all, the instant Jonas fell down those steps. By now, they all knew the whole truth. He’d tossed his keys to Travis, just before he’d headed down the hall with the doctor.

  “There’s a briefcase in my truck,” he’d said. “You might as well know everything.”