by Cait London
Aaron was the playful brother she’d never had.
Later, when “Snake” arrived, she’d had another brother to torment.
But Hogan drove her nuts, maybe he still did.
Hogan had been broody, dark-skinned with beautiful glossy black hair, standing apart from the blond, blue-eyed Kodiak family. He had that tall, rangy look, wrists too long for his sleeves, a red bandanna tied around his forehead.
Already swaggering, he had that loose, free stride of a long-legged hunter. To her, Hogan looked like a god— arrogant, disdainful of girls, untamed, and perfect for tormenting.
At eight, she’d told him that he was beautiful, and that had sent him running. When she’d seen him breaking horses, riding them until they were too weary to fight, she’d been totally fascinated. Even as a child, she understood that the best game was playing the most difficult— and winning. Hogan qualified as a strong opponent and maybe that’s why he fascinated her so much back then.
Fascination was an easier term than admitting she’d had a childish crush on Hogan Kodiak.
Jemma tossed her hair back from her face— she still knew how to put Hogan on edge. She had always delighted in scoring hits on his cool, dark, remote shields. He was so easy to read— once she had him in her grasp, she intended to make him squirm.
That image slid away— Hogan was too tough, too worldly now, but if there was truly an exciting fun-sport in her life, it was getting to Hogan.
Jemma pushed away the lingering bitterness about her parents. Her parents had been no more than careless children themselves, not tending their brood of ten children, and now they were all gone.
She’d survived, and sometimes hated herself for doing so. She’d made a good life, built a comfortable portfolio. Dynamic, on the go, ready for challenges, Jemma admitted she had one weakness— the Kodiaks. They loved deeply, and she’d loved them all— even Hogan and his shadows— at first sight.
They’d had everything, but it had been torn apart by Ben’s accident.
“I remember the first time I came here. My parents didn’t care where I was and so I came to stay the summer with Carley,” Jemma said, floating into her memories. “Ben scooped her up and held her tight. He looked like a tough cowboy, but with his face against Carley’s throat, I saw just one tear. It glittered on his lashes, then dropped onto my hand. It felt like love, and I knew I’d love him forever then. And then he swung me up onto his other hip, a tall gangling eight-year old, as if I were his daughter, too.”
Amid the early mid-April alfalfa fields, the house had stood for more than a hundred years. It had been remodeled here and there, and in Jemma’s transient young life, it had been heaven to know that a house and a family would always remain in one place, that they could come home.
Under the pretense of smoothing her hair, she wiped away a tear. From what she knew of the Kodiaks, they had seemed perfect until Ben’s accident. A beautiful loving family with a future ahead of them. Given time, Dinah would have won Hogan into her keeping. Jemma caught the love she felt for this family and held it tight— they were hers, the only family she’d known.
The Kodiak men, lined up and waiting, presented a homecoming to remember. Dressed in jeans, their white dress shirts blazing in the late-afternoon sun, standing with their legs spread wide and their rangy bodies outlined, they took her breath away.
Hogan. Jemma fought for breath, then scowled. She wasn’t wasting any time with a man who hated her, who avoided her.
When Jemma stopped the van, she sat in the shadows, watching the family she loved. Pale, fine hair tossed by a cold Montana breeze in the dying sunlight, Dinah and Carley hurried toward their loved ones. Aaron scooped Carley into his arms and Mitch hugged Dinah.
Always a step back and holding to himself, Hogan stood, crossing his arms. Aaron was stiff with Dinah, bending to kiss her cheek and rigid when she wrapped her arms around him and held him close.
Clearly uncertain, Ben’s gaze skimmed across to the horses as if none of this scene affected him. Jemma knew that he wanted to escape his fear, to ride out. But he locked his boots and stayed, a big powerful man obviously riding emotions too much for him, his big fists clenched at his side.
Jemma pushed open the door and circled the van. She noted Hogan’s earring— an expensive-looking, dangling black bead and silver affair— certain to snag Ben’s temper.
“Hi, babe,” she said to Hogan, just to start him simmering.
“Flashy,” he said coolly, indicating the golden metallic camper with a nod.
“Gold has always been my color. Goes with green, the color of money,” she flipped back at him.
She stopped in midstep when she saw Dinah stand in front of Ben. They just stood there, a man and a woman in the April Montana sunlight, their eyes saying more than spoken words. Then Dinah lifted her hand to touch the gray at Ben’s temples and as if no one else existed.
Ben took her hand to his mouth, placing his kiss within her palm.
They’d been apart for over thirty years and yet they looked young— the gesture was so humbling that Jemma looked away.
From Aaron’s and Mitch’s expressions, Ben and Dinah’s intimacy had also affected them. Carley brushed away tears, her bottom lip trembling. Jemma chanced a look up at Hogan’s tanned, usually impassive face and caught a sharp fleeting emotion, gone before it could be defined.
“They’re perfect, aren’t they? Standing together like that?” he asked quietly.
“What do you mean?” Jemma looked up at him and found that fleeting glimpse of Hogan’s scars, his loneliness and shadows.
Hogan shook his head. He was closing her off, and she hated him with a fury. “You just went into your cave, Hogan Kodiak. You know how I detest that.”
His smile was cold and tight. Hogan rarely cared what people thought. “You’re not ruining this moment,” she stated firmly. “Try and I’ll kill you.”
She turned to the Kodiak family— the family she loved and wanted to be happy. Ben’s expression held her like magic. His expression was soft, whimsical, as if he had everything he wanted right then and there.
His glance at Jemma was grateful as he swung Carley into a tight, fierce hug. Jemma waited just a heartbeat, just time enough to give him a moment with his daughter, then she launched herself upon him.
“Hey!” Ben exclaimed in delight. She stood back and grinned at him a moment before she turned to Mitch and Aaron, kissing them soundly.
Both reacted the same— that slight catch, that momentary friction of an experienced man holding a woman in his arms. And both had shot her a satisfying leer that was all play.
Filled with success and high on love, Jemma turned to Hogan and, with a devil-made-me-do-it attitude, flung her arms around him, lowered one hand out of sight of the others, and patted his hard butt.
“Gotcha,” she said, and stepped back before he could push her away.
Then Hogan’s hand shot out, gripped her upper arm and he tugged her close for a light kiss that lingered for just a heartbeat, shocking her. She stepped back again, stunned. The kiss wasn’t friendly, but firm— a challenge of a male to a woman who taunted him.
Surprise and temper stormed through her, but Jemma understood: Hogan wanted to put her in her place and warn her not to test him.
She glared at him and tossed her hair back carelessly, just to show him that she could easily shed any surprises he threw at her.
Dinah hugged Mitch and held Aaron tight, because she’d seen them through the years, and Hogan, too. She turned to Hogan and took his hand with both of hers.
“My son,” she whispered in a reverent motherly tone that couldn’t be challenged.
Hogan’s body tensed; he wasn’t unaffected. He glanced at Ben, who placed a hand on Dinah’s shoulder, but locked his stare with Hogan’s. The impact jarred Hogan, the older man’s emotion threading through his quiet deep tone, “I’m glad you’re home. We all are. This is where you should be. You’d better come rest now.”
Hogan stiffened, momentarily confused and then angry. Ben was speaking to Dinah and the others, of course, not to him. Ben was already setting the rules and defining Hogan as an outsider....
“Ben? Rest? But I just got here— uh!” Dinah jerked as Jemma nudged her with her elbow.
Then Ben bent and lifted Dinah in his arms, walking toward the house. There was just that bit of hesitation as his right boot settled onto Kodiak land, a slight hint that his body wasn’t complete.
Clearly stunned, Dinah looked back, then settled into Ben’s arms. Jemma, who couldn’t help giggling as she hooked an arm around Carley. “Well, well, well. You Kodiaks ought to see yourselves, all of you, standing with your mouths open. You’re all so easy, and so emotional.”
“Dad doesn’t look sick at all,” Carley noted quietly.
“Ben doesn’t want it to show. You know him,” Jemma returned quickly, and hated the lie. Still. She’d do anything for Carley—
Carley frowned. “But wasn’t that romantic? I mean the way Dad picked her up? He’s still that strong, even though he’s sick?”
Jemma hugged her friend. “So? They’ve got a thing for each other. Looked pretty natural to me.”
“Look at Mom.... She’s all tucked in and cuddling to him, the way she’s looking at him....” Aaron murmured.
“God, I hope I’m still that strong at his age,” Mitch added. “Wonder what that ‘rest’ means to him?”
Jemma moved to stand between the men, her hands on their shoulders. “Magic moments, guys. Take a note. That was the most romantic thing I’ve seen from any of you. Look and learn.”
While Mitch, Aaron, and Carley were stunned, Hogan scowled darkly at the man carrying Dinah into the house. Jemma nudged him with her shoulder. “That frown has to hurt.”
Mitch, Aaron, and Carley hurried to unpack the van and follow Ben. But Hogan remained standing, immovable, arms crossed in front of him. Jemma was tired, riding on nerves, and Hogan wasn’t making anything easy.
“You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you?” she asked wearily.
“Little Miss Fix-It,” Hogan said tightly, anger rimming the hard planes of his face, the tight, rhythmic cord in his jaw.
“Look, you. I don’t want any fights straight off, but if you’re asking, I can deliver. Just try to be sweet for today, okay? If it isn’t too much of a strain?” she shot back. She turned to look at the house, the new white paint and repaired boards. In an attempt to remain cool and civil, she said, “I see you’ve all been working.”
At her side, Hogan murmured, “Mitch bribed the local high school teacher’s shop department. We had more trouble than the teenage labor was worth. They expected beer and didn’t get it. There’s a fair amount of spit and body fluids in that paint.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t have Ben in your blood, always mulling in the dark side,” she muttered.
But when she turned around, Hogan was striding toward his pickup.
“Who needs you anyway, babe?” she asked softly, and knew from the hard set of his broad shoulders that Hogan’s emotions were tearing at him.
She couldn’t bear for him to be alone and an outsider to the Kodiaks and yet torn by love for them. Jemma hurried after him, hooking a hand in the back of his tooled Western belt. A powerful man set on a fast getaway, Hogan caused her to skid along behind him until he stopped and swung around to her.
“How about a ride in my new van?” she asked, hoping to trim the edge off his stormy mood She slid him her best thousand-watt smile. It hit Hogan and crumpled into the dirt at his boots.
He swung a disdainful look at her golden baby, all shining silver mud flaps and studded with antennas, gleaming in the twilight and said, “I want to live.”
She was trying, damn him. “What’s eating at you? Come on, don’t be shy.”
Hogan’s dark eyes flicked at the house. He had lots of memories and none of them sweet, except for Dinah trying to hold him. He couldn’t allow that, a strange sweet-smelling woman wanting to cuddle him. As Ben’s son, and a motherless child, he didn’t understand gentleness, and he’d lashed out at her. For a time, she’d softened Ben, especially when Aaron and Carley came along.
“He’ll hurt her. She’s too soft for him. He’ll start jabbing and hurting—”
“He will not. Any man who looks at a woman like that is a man who feels blessed. He’s romantic, carrying her into the house like that. My heart fairly flipped over. I thought I might swoon.”
“The only reason you’d swoon is if someone paid you.... What would you know about it? How a man feels? It’s common knowledge that he’s sleeping with Maxi Dove. Now he wants Dinah in his bed.”
“That is pure manure, and you know it. Ben took Maxi in when she was pregnant with Savanna and her family had turned her away. He’s raised Savanna as his own daughter. He paid for her nurse’s training.”
“Maybe she is his daughter. Maybe he’s been paid for that favor.” Bitterness curled around Hogan’s harsh tone, his eyes glinting dangerously at her.
Jemma pushed her face up to his; Hogan wasn’t intimidating her with tough looks. “Savanna hasn’t got that nasty Kodiak streak, like you do. You’re just looking for trouble, and if you want a whole lot of it, just try me.”
Hogan braced his hands on his hips. Tired, nerves stretched too thin and aching to take him on, Jemma did the same, lifting her face to his dark rugged one. “You are not going to ruin this, Hogan. You are coming inside and we’re all going to be civilized and then, after a time, you’ll excuse yourself and leave quietly.”
Hogan reached past her to jerk open his pickup door, but Jemma flattened herself against it. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll make your life so miserable, you won’t be able to breathe.”
He lifted a black, sleek brow. “This isn’t your family. Or have you forgotten?”
“I’m in it now, and I’m sticking,” she said, and blinked at the slight softening of his mouth, the warmth of his eyes. “So can you manage to be human, or not? I’ll lay off, if you will.”
“Tell Dinah and Carley that I’ll be back in the morning,” he said, and gently nudged her away with his shoulder.
Hogan wasn’t setting his terms, when and where he could be reached. Jemma narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to start this shindig off right at the breakfast table tomorrow morning. If you’re not here for breakfast and in a sweeter mood, I’ll bring everyone over in the morning. I’ve got room in the van. Ben will want a ride in it.”
She reveled in that quick black slap of temper, Hogan’s stoic mask pulled aside. “The hell you will. You stay out of this.”
“Brunch at eleven with sweet rolls, coffee, and orange juice is okay. Stop at the grocery store and get some of those bake-it-yourself ones. I like the thought of you cooking for me,” Jemma said lightly, and, with a toss of her head, turned and stalked back to the house. In another minute, she’d have her hands around his big thick arrogant neck—
“Jemma.” The quiet solid thud of her name hit her like a brick.
She stood still as Hogan walked to her and tugged the ruffled band from her ponytail. She fought the quiver of her senses as his scent and his body heat reached her.
Hogan leaned down to place his angular jaw against her own and to whisper in her ear. “Don’t play games with me, Jemma. I’m not being molded and packaged for the family plan because you want it. It’s a little late for that.”
“See you tomorrow, bud, either really early here, at the breakfast table— or later at your place. They’ll come for a ride with me, and we’ll just happen to all land at your house. But while you’re sulking over there in that fort don’t forget this is for Carley... to protect her. If Dinah— or Ben— get a few perks along the way, their family together again, then that suits me, too.”
Jemma shot a solid elbow back into his stomach, noted the satisfactory grunt and continued walking.
From the window, Ben spared a glance away from Dinah, who was hugging Maxi Dove. He no
ted Hogan’s scowl, the quick dark heat of his eyes on Jemma’s swaying hips, and the fury written on the young woman’s face.
Hogan was snarling again, and Jemma wanted her way. The girl had good moves, tearing away Hogan’s reserve, and she wasn’t giving up. An old familiar pain shot through Ben’s chest as he turned to look at the woman he’d always loved; he shouldn’t have given up Dinah or Hogan.
*** ***
Jemma shoved her body up the steps of the ranch house and forced her fist to uncurl before she took a deep, steadying breath and opened the new door. She pasted a smile on her face.
As a survivor and making her way too soon in the world, she’d had plenty of practice in covering her emotions. Hogan could be a beast, when he wanted, but he wasn’t getting to her— he wasn’t.
She pushed aside her anger at Hogan and slowly studied the house she’d come to think of as her real home. The Kodiak house would always stand like this, solid, battered by weather and years and yet it remained, big, clean, and neat, clearly masculine. Ben’s old leather chair was near the huge stone fireplace, the flickering flames adding to the sheen of the varnished floors.
The dangling crystals of an imitation Tiffany lamp speared a myriad of light into the room. Ben would have brought it down from the attic upstairs, where it had been stored since Dinah left. A huge battered pigeonhole desk was layered with paper, Aaron’s sleek little laptop closed by the telephone. Old Aaron’s portrait and Jubal’s sprawling horns over the fireplace were gone, the ancient buffalo gun remaining.
She turned to the stairway she’d loved as a child, perfect for sliding down the bannisters. The bedrooms upstairs were meant to accommodate a family and had before Ben’s accident. He’d slept downstairs since then. When Carley and Jemma had come home, he’d ordered the “Sasquatches” to the bunkhouse.
“The boys will be staying here in the house,” Ben was saying quietly to Dinah. “It’s better that way.”
