by Tina Leonard
Judah grinned, but Creed let his scowl deepen. “She’s not as much of an angel as she appears. Don’t let her looks fool you.”
His brother laughed. “Couldn’t sweet-talk her, huh?”
Creed sniffed. “Didn’t try.”
“Sure you did.” Judah crossed a leg over a knee and lounged indolently, enjoying having Creed at his mercy. “She didn’t give you the time of day.” He looked up at the ceiling, putting on a serious face. “You know, some ladies take their angel status very seriously.”
“Meaning?” Creed arched a brow at his brother, half-curious as to where all this ribbing was going. Judah had no room to talk about success with women, as far as Creed was concerned. Only Pete was married—and only Pete had claimed a girlfriend, sort of, before Aunt Fiona had thrown down the marriage gauntlet. Creed figured the rest of the Callahan brothers were just about nowhere with serious relationships.
Including me.
“Just that once a woman like her rescues a man, she almost feels responsible for him. Like a child.” Judah sighed. “Very difficult thing to get away from, when a woman sees a man in a mothering light.”
Creed stared at his brother. “That’s the biggest bunch of hogwash I’ve ever heard.”
“Have you ever wondered exactly what hogwash is?” Judah looked thoughtful. “If I had a hog, I sure wouldn’t wash it.”
“Hogwash just means garbage,” Creed said testily. “Your literal mood is not amusing.”
“I was just making conversation, since you’re not in a position to do much else.”
“Sorry.” Creed got back to the point he was most intrigued by. “Anyway, so you met Aberdeen?”
Judah nodded. “Yes. And thanked her for taking care of my older brother. Do you remember any of what happened to you?”
“I don’t know. Some bug hit me, I guess.” Creed was missing a couple of days out of his life. “I didn’t make the cut in Lance, so I was going to head on to the next rodeo. And I saw this out-of-the-way restaurant on the side of road, so I stopped. Next thing I knew, I was here.”
Judah shook his head. “A bad hand, man.”
“Yeah.”
“Never want a woman you’ve just met to see you weak,” Judah mused.
“I wasn’t weak. I just got the wrong end of a ride. Or the flu.” Creed glared at Judah. “So anyway, how are the newlyweds? And Fiona? Burke? Everyone else?”
“No one else is getting married, if that’s what you’re asking. You still have a shot. Like Cinderella getting a glass slipper. It could happen, under the right conditions.”
“I don’t want a wife or children. That’s why I’m here,” Creed growled. “You can be the ambassador for both of us, thanks.”
“I don’t know. I kind of thought that little brunette who went racing out of your room might have some possibilities.”
“Then ask her out.” Creed felt a headache coming on that had nothing to do with his concussion. It was solely bad temper, which Judah was causing.
Just like the old days. In a way, it was comforting.
“I don’t know. I could have sworn I felt that tension thing. You know, a push-pull vibe when she left your room. She was all riled like she had fire on her heels, as if you’d really twisted her up.”
“That’s a recipe for love if I ever heard one.”
“Yeah.” Judah warmed to his theory. “Fire and ice. Only she’s mostly fire.”
“Hellfire is my guess. You know she’s a cowboy church preacher.”
“Oh.” Judah slumped. “That was the fire I picked up on. I knew she needed an extinguisher for some reason. I just thought maybe it had to do with you.”
“Nope,” Creed said, happy to throw water on his brother’s silly theory. “You’ll have to hogwash another Callahan into getting roped. And you are not as good as Fiona,” Creed warned with satisfaction.
Judah shook his head. “No one is.”
“I THINK,” FIONA TOLD HER FRIENDS at the Books ’n’ Bingo Society meeting, “that voting a few new members in to our club is a good idea. Sabrina McKinley can’t stay shut up in the house all the time taking care of dreadful old Bode Jenkins.” Fiona sniffed, despising even saying Bode’s name. It was Bode who’d finally closed her up in a trap, and the fact that the man had managed to find a way to get Rancho Diablo from her rankled terribly. She was almost sick with fear over what to tell her six nephews. Pete knew. She could trust Pete. He would keep her secret until the appropriate time. And he was married now, with darling triplet daughters, a dutiful nephew if there ever was one.
But the other five—well, she’d be holding her breath for a long while if she dreamed those five rapscallions would get within ten feet of an altar. No, they’d be more likely to set an altar on fire with their anti-marriage postures. Poof! Up in smoke.
Just like her grip on Rancho Diablo. How disappointed her brother Jeremiah and his wife, Molly, would be if they knew that she’d lost the ranch they’d built. “Some guardian I am,” she murmured, and Corrine Abernathy said, “What, Fiona?”
Fiona shook her head. “Anyway, we need to invite Sabrina into our group. We need fresh blood, young voices who can give us new ideas.”
Her three best friends and nine other ladies smiled at her benevolently.
“It sounds like a good idea,” Mavis Night said. “Who else do you want?”
Fiona thought about it. Sabrina had been an obvious choice for new-member status, because she was Corinne’s niece. So was Seton McKinley, a private investigator Fiona had hired to ferret out any chinks in Bode’s so-far formidable armor. “I think maybe Bode Jenkins.”
An audible gasp went up in the tea room.
“You can’t be serious,” Nadine Waters said, her voice quavering. “He’s your worst enemy.”
“And we should keep our enemy close to our bosoms, shouldn’t we?” Fiona looked around the room. “Anyway, I put it forth to a vote.”
“Why not Sheriff Cartwright? He’s a nice man,” Nadine offered. “For our first male in the group, I’d rather vote for a gentleman.”
Murmurs of agreement greeted that sentiment.
“I don’t know,” Fiona said. “Maybe I’m losing my touch. Maybe inviting Bode is the wrong idea.” She thought about her words before saying slowly, “Maybe I should give up my chairwomanship of the Books ’n’ Bingo Society.”
Everyone stared at her, their faces puzzled, some glancing anxiously at each other.
“Fiona, is everything all right?” Corinne asked.
“I don’t know,” Fiona said. She didn’t want to tell them that in another six months she might not be here. It was time to lay the groundwork for the next chairwoman. She would have no home which to invite them, there would be no more Rancho Diablo. Only one more Christmas at Diablo. She wanted to prepare her friends for the future. But she also didn’t want the truth to come out just yet, for her nephews’ sakes. She wanted eligible bachelorettes—the cream of the Diablo crop—to see them still as the powerful Callahan clan, the men who worked the hardest and shepherded the biggest ranch around.
Not as unfortunate nephews of a silly aunt who’d gambled away their birthright.
She wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t. “I think I’ll adjourn, girls. Why don’t we sleep on everything, and next week when we meet maybe we’ll have some ideas on forward-thinking goals for our club.”
Confused, the ladies rose, hugging each other, glancing with concern at Fiona. Fiona knew she’d dropped a bomb on her friends. She hadn’t handled the situation well.
But then, she hadn’t handled anything well lately. I’m definitely losing it, she thought. In the old days, her most gadabout, confident days, a man like Bode Jenkins would never have gotten the best of her.
She was scared.
“I’M THINKING ABOUT IT,” Aberdeen told Johnny that night. “Our nieces need a stable home. And I don’t know how to help Diane more than we have. Maybe she needs time away. Maybe she’s been through too much. There’s no way
for us to know what is going through her mind.” Aberdeen sat in their cozy upstairs den with Johnny. It was Sunday night so the bar was closed. They’d thoroughly cleaned it after going by to see the recovering cowboy. He’d looked much better and seemed cheered by his brother’s presence.
There wasn’t much else she and Johnny could do for him, either, and she didn’t really want to get any more involved. She had enough on her hands. “Mom and Dad say that they try to help Diane, but despite that, they’re afraid the children are going to end up in a foster home somewhere, some day.” Aberdeen felt tears press behind her eyelids. “The little girls deserve better than this, Johnny. And Diane has asked me to adopt them. She says she’s under too much pressure. Too many children, not enough income, not enough…maternal desire.”
That wasn’t exactly how Diane had put it. Diane had said she wasn’t a fit mother. Aberdeen refused to believe that. Her sister had always been a sunny person, full of optimism. These days, she was darker, moodier, and it all seemed to stem from the birth of her last child. Up until that moment, Diane had thought everything was fine in her marriage. It wasn’t until after the baby was born that she’d discovered her husband had another woman. He no longer wanted to be a father, nor a husband to Diane.
“I don’t know,” Johnny said. “Aberdeen, we live over a bar. I don’t think anyone will let us have kids here. Nor could I recommend it. We don’t want the girls growing up in an environment that isn’t as wholesome as we could make it. We don’t even have schools nearby.”
Aberdeen nodded. “I know. I’ve thought about this, Johnny. I think I’m going to have to move to Montana.”
Her brother stared at her. “You wanted to leave Montana. So did I.”
“But it’s not a bad place to live, Johnny.” It really wasn’t. And the girls would have so much more there than they would living over a bar. “I could be happy there.”
“It’s not that Montana was the problem,” Johnny said. “It was the family tree we wanted to escape.”
This was also true. Their parents weren’t the most loving, helpful people. They’d pretty much let their kids fend for themselves, believing that they themselves had gotten by with little growing up, and had done fine figuring life out themselves. So Johnny and Aberdeen had left Montana, striking out to “figure life out” on their own. Diane had opted to stay behind with their parents. Consequently, she’d married, had kids, done the wife thing—and left herself no backup when it all fell apart.
“I’ve been thinking, too,” Johnny said. “To be honest, the red flag went up for me when the folks said they were worried. For them to actually worry and not ascribe to their typical let-them-figure-it-out-themselves theory, makes me think the situation is probably dire.”
Aberdeen shook her head. “The girls need more. They’re so young, Johnny. I don’t know exactly what happened to Diane and why she’s so determined she can’t be a mother anymore, but I think I’m going to either have to get custody or fully adopt, like Diane wants me to do. They need the stability.”
Johnny scratched his chin. “We just can’t have them here. There are too many strangers for safety.”
“That’s why I think I have to go to Montana. At least there I can assess what’s been happening.”
Johnny waved a big hand at her. “Diane is leaving. There’s nothing to assess. She’s going to follow whatever wind is blowing, and our parents don’t want to be bothered with toddlers.”
“They don’t have the health to do it, Johnny.”
“True, but—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aberdeen said quickly. “We just need to think of what’s best for the girls.”
“We can buy a house here. Maybe it’s time to do that, anyway.”
She looked around their home. It hadn’t been in the best condition when they’d bought the building, but they’d converted the large old house into a working/living space that suited them. Upstairs were four bedrooms, with two on either side of an open space, with en suite bathrooms in the two largest bedrooms. They used the wide space between the bedrooms as a family room. For five years they’d lived here, and it was home.
“Maybe,” she said, jumping a little when a knock sounded on the front door downstairs. Aberdeen glanced at Johnny. Their friends knew to go to the back door after the bar was closed; they never answered the front door in case a stranger might decide to see if they could get someone to open up the bar. A few drunks over the years had done that. She was surprised when Johnny headed down the stairs. Her brother was big and tall and strong, and he wouldn’t open the door without his gun nearby, but still, Aberdeen followed him.
“We’re closed,” Johnny called through the door.
“I know. I just wanted to come by and say thanks before we left town,” a man called from the other side, and Aberdeen’s stomach tightened just a fraction.
“The cowboy,” she said to Johnny, and he nodded.
“He’s harmless enough,” Johnny said. “A little bit of a loose cannon, but might as well let him have his say.”
Aberdeen shrugged. “He can say it through the door just the same,” she said, but Johnny gave her a wry look and opened up.
“Thanks for letting me in,” Creed Callahan said to Johnny, shaking his hand as though he was a long-lost friend. “This is the man who probably saved my life, Judah,” he said, and Judah put out a hand for Johnny to shake. “Hi, Aberdeen,” Creed said.
“Hello, Aberdeen,” Judah said, “we met in the hospital.”
She smiled at Judah’s polite manners, but it was his long-haired ruffian of a brother who held her gaze. She could feel her blood run hot and her frosty facade trying to melt. It was hard not to look at Creed’s engaging smile and clear blue eyes without falling just a little bit. You’ve been here before, she reminded herself. No more bad boys for you.
“We didn’t save your life,” Johnny said, “you would have been fine.”
Creed shook his head. “I don’t remember much about the past couple of days. I don’t really recall coming here.” He smiled at Aberdeen. “I do remember you telling your brother you didn’t want me here.”
“That’s true.” She stared back at him coolly. “We’re not really prepared to take in boarders. It’s nice to see you on the mend. Will you be heading on now to the next rodeo?”
Judah softly laughed. “We do have to be getting on, but we just wanted to stop by to thank you.” He tipped his hat to Aberdeen. “Again, I appreciate you looking out for my brother. He’s fortunate to have guardian angels.”
Aberdeen didn’t feel much like an angel at the moment. She could feel herself in the grip of an attraction unlike anything that had ever hit her before. She’d felt it when she’d first laid eyes on Creed. The feeling hadn’t dissipated when she’d visited him in the hospital. She could tell he was one of those men who would make a woman insane from wanting what she couldn’t have.
It was the kiss that was muddying her mind. He’d unlocked a desire she’d jealously kept under lock and key, not wanting ever to get hurt again. “Goodbye,” she said, her eyes on Creed. “Better luck with your next ride.”
He gave her a lingering glance, and Aberdeen could have sworn he had something else he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. He didn’t rush to the door, and finally Judah clapped him on the back so he’d get moving toward the exit.
“Goodbye,” Creed said again, seemingly only to her, and chicken-heart that she was, Aberdeen turned around and walked upstairs, glad to see him go.
Once in Creed’s truck, Judah tried to keep his face straight. Creed knew his brother was laughing at him, though, and it didn’t help. “What?” he demanded, pulling out of the asphalt parking lot. “What’s so funny?”
“That one is way out of your league, Creed.”
Creed started to make a rebuttal of his interest, then shrugged. “I thought you said she’d probably feel responsible for me because she saved me.”
Judah laughed. “Works f
or most guys, clearly backfired on you. Good thing you’re not interested in a relationship with a woman, or keeping up with Pete, because you’d never get there if that gal was your choice. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a female look at a man with less enthusiasm. If you were a cockroach, she’d have squashed you.”
He felt squashed. “She was like that from the moment I met her,” Creed said. “I remember one very clear thing about the night I got here, and that was her big blue eyes staring at me like I was an ex-boyfriend. The kind of ex a woman never wants to lay eyes on again.”
“Bad luck for you,” Judah said, without much sympathy and with barely hidden laughter. “You’re kind of on a roll, bro.”
“My luck’s bound to turn eventually.” Creed was sure it would—he’d always led a fairly charmed existence, but when a man couldn’t ride and the ladies weren’t biting his well-baited hook and he was evading his wonky little aunt’s plan to get him settled down, well, there was nothing else to do but wait for the next wave of good luck, which was bound to come any time.
“Take me to the airport,” Judah said, “now that you’re on the mend.”
“You don’t want to ride with me to the next stop?”
Judah shook his head. “I’ve got a lot to do back home.”
Guilt poured over Creed. There was always so much to do at Rancho Diablo that they could have had six more brothers and they wouldn’t cover all the bases. “Yeah,” Creed said, thinking hard. He wasn’t winning. He’d busted his grape, though not as badly as some guys he knew. Still, it probably wasn’t wise to get right back in the saddle.
He was homesick. “Maybe that bump on my noggin was a good thing.”
“Not unless it knocked some sense into you.”
He couldn’t remember ever being homesick before. It was either having had a bad ride or meeting Aberdeen that had him feeling anxious. He wasn’t sure which option would be worse. With a sigh he said, “Feel like saving on an airplane ticket?”
“Coming home?” Judah asked, with a sidelong glance at him, and Creed nodded.
