by Tina Leonard
“I think I will.”
“Suits me. I hate to fly. So many rules to follow. And I hate taking off my boots in a line of other people taking off their shoes. I guess I could wear flip-flops or slip-ons, but my boots are just part of my body.” He glanced out the window, watching the beautiful land fly past, clearly happy to have the scenery to admire. “Better luck next time, bro,” he said, then pulled his hat down over his eyes. “Wake me when you want me to drive.”
Creed nodded. He wasn’t as sanguine and relaxed as Judah. He was rattled, feeling that something was missing, something wasn’t quite right. Creed kept his eyes on the road, tried to relax his clenched fingers on the steering wheel—just enough to take the white from his knuckles. It had been silly to go back to Johnny’s Bar and Grill, but he’d wanted to see Aberdeen. He wanted to take one last look at her, at those springy, dark-brown curls, her saucy nose, full lips, dark-blue eyes. He’d been lying, of course. He remembered something else besides those eyes staring at him with annoyance. He would never forget the soft feel of her lips beneath his, printing her heart onto his soul. He’d felt it, despite the concussion, and he had a funny feeling he would never forget Aberdeen Donovan.
Which was a first for a man who loved to kiss all the girls with his usual happy-go-lucky amnesia. He’d wanted one more kiss from Aberdeen, but it would have taken better luck than he was currently riding and maybe a real guardian angel looking out for him to make that dream come true.
He turned toward home.
Chapter Four
When Aberdeen and Johnny got to Montana a week after the cowboy had left town, they found matters were worse than expected. Diane was already in Paris chasing after her new boy toy, and had no plans to return. Ashley, Suzanne and Lincoln Rose had been left with their grandparents—and as Aberdeen and Johnny had feared, the older folk were overwhelmed and looking to hand off the girls. Quickly.
“Why didn’t you call us?” Aberdeen demanded. “How long has Diane been gone?”
“She left two weeks ago. With that man.” Fritz Donovan looked at his nieces helplessly. “Seems a mother ought to stay around to raise her own kids. Like we did.”
Aberdeen bit her lip. Some raising. You left us to raise ourselves, so Diane isn’t all to blame.
“You still should have called, Dad.”
May Donovan jutted out her chin. “Diane said she’d told you that she was leaving. We figured that since you didn’t come, you didn’t want the girls. And you know very well Diane needs a break. It’s just all been too much for her since the divorce.”
Aberdeen counted to ten. May’s constant blind eye where her older daughter was concerned was one of the reasons Diane continued to act irresponsibly at the age of thirty-five.
Johnny got to his feet, towering in the small kitchen. “There’s no need to lay blame. If Diane is gone, she’s gone. Now we need to decide what to do with the little ones.”
“You’re taking them with you, of course,” May said. “Now that you’ve finally arrived.”
Fritz nodded. “We’re a bit old to take care of three little kids. Not that we can’t,” he said, his tone belligerent, “but maybe they’ll be happier with you. Since that’s what Diane wanted and all. You should help your sister since she’s not had the breaks in life that you two have had.”
Aberdeen told herself their parents’ words didn’t matter right now. They had always been cold and odd, and strangely preferential toward Diane. Aberdeen loved her sister as much as they did, but she wasn’t blind to her faults, either. Diane had a selfish side that one day she might, hopefully, grow out of. For the sake of her nieces, Aberdeen prayed she did. “We’ll take them back with us,” she said finally, glancing at Johnny for his approval, which she knew would be there. “You can come see them as often as you like to visit.”
“Ah, well. That won’t be necessary,” May said. “We don’t travel much.”
Their parents had never visited their home in Lance. Aberdeen shook her head. “There’s always a first time for everything. I’m heading to bed. We’ll be off in the morning.”
“That will be fine.” The relief on May’s face was plain. “You are planning to adopt them, aren’t you, Aberdeen? After all, it would help Diane so much. She just can’t do this, you know.”
Her mother’s gaze was pleading. It occurred to Aberdeen that her sister’s mothering skills were basically the same as May’s. It was always Johnny who kept the family together, Aberdeen realized. Johnny had been adoring of his little sister and helpful to his big sister and they’d always known they had their protective Johnny looking out for them. Not their parents. Johnny.
“I don’t know, Mom,” Aberdeen said. “We’d have to see if a court would allow it. We don’t know what is involved with an in-family adoption when a mother is simply absent by choice. There’s finances to consider, too.”
“We can’t give you any money,” May said quickly, and Johnny said, “We’re not asking you for money. We just need to proceed in a responsible fashion for the girls’ sakes.”
“Well, I would think—” May began, but Johnny cut her off.
“Enough, Mom. We have a lot of decisions to make in the near future. For all we know, Diane could come home next week, ready to be a mother. Maybe she just needed a vacation.”
Aberdeen hoped so, but doubted it. “Goodnight,” she said, and headed upstairs.
Part of her—the dreamy, irresponsible part she rarely acknowledged—took flight for just an instant, wondering how her life might be different if she, too, just took off, as Diane had, following a man on the whim of her heart.
Like a certain cowboy.
A big, strong, muscular, teasing hunk of six-four cowboy.
But no. She was as different from Diane as night and day. She was a dreamer, maybe, not a doer. She would never fling caution to the wind and follow a man like Creed Callahan.
Yet sweet temptation tugged at her thoughts.
“I’VE BEEN THINKING,” Creed told Judah as they made their way through Colorado, “that little cowboy church preacher was a little too uptight for me, anyway.”
Judah glanced at him as Creed slumped in the passenger seat, doling out some of their favorite road food. They’d made a pit stop just outside of Denver and loaded up on the junk food Fiona wouldn’t allow them to have.
“What made you decide that?” Judah asked, taking a swig of the Big Red Creed had put in the cup holder for him. “Because I was pretty certain uptight might be good for you.”
“Maybe in small doses,” Creed said, feeling better as every mile took him farther away from temptation. “I’m pretty sure I can’t handle uptight in large doses.”
“I’d say narrow escape, except I don’t think you were in danger of getting caught.” Judah munched happily on Doritos from the open bag between the seat. “No, I’m sure you had Free Bird written all over your forehead, bro. No worries.”
Creed pondered that. “I’ve decided to make a run for the ranch.”
Judah glanced at him. “Since when?”
Since he’d met the preacher. That was weird, though, Creed thought with a frown. Women usually made him want to get naked, not own a ranch. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, of all of us, you are not the one to settle down and grow a large family.”
“Pete’s happy. I could learn by example.”
“You ran away from being Pete. Remember? You ran like a hungry wolf to a picnic basket.”
Creed considered that as he crunched some chips. “I think I changed when I got my bell rung.”
“Creed, you get your bell rung once a year.”
“This was different,” Creed said. “I saw stars.”
“You saw nothing. You weren’t yourself for two days,” Judah told him. “Anyway, it’s not enough to change you. You’ve always been a loose goose.”
“Yeah. I suppose so.” Creed lost his appetite for chips and stared morosely at his soda can. “You know, I think Fiona’s right. This
is trash we’re eating. I can feel my intestines turning red.”
Judah sighed. “This is nectar of the gods.”
“Maybe I miss home-cooking. We don’t have it bad with Fiona, you know?” The past several months had outlined that to Creed. “We were lucky she raised us.”
“Yeah. We could have gone into the system.”
“That would have sucked.” Creed turned his mind away from thoughts of being separated from his brothers. “Although I met a cowboy who’d been adopted, and he was pretty happy. Things worked out for him.”
“It does. But we were in a good place with Fiona and Burke.”
“And that’s why I intend to fight for the ranch,” Creed said with determination. “I just need a woman to help me with this project.”
“It’d take you twenty years to find a woman,” Judah said with some sarcasm, which cut Creed. “I’d say Pete is safe. Anyway, I thought we all agreed that the sacrificial lamb would do the deed, inherit the ranch and divvy it up between all of us. Thereby leaving the rest of us free to graze on the good things in life.”
Creed crushed his soda can. “I’m not sure I’m grazing on the good things in life.”
“Oh. You want angel food cake.” Judah nodded. “Good luck with that. Let me know how it goes, will you?”
Creed rolled his eyes. Judah didn’t understand. “I’m just saying, maybe we shouldn’t burden Pete with all the responsibility.”
“Why not? He’s always been the responsible one.”
“But maybe some of us should take a crack at being responsible, too. Take the pressure off him. He’s got newborn triplets. It’s selfish of us to stick him with all the duties.”
“I think Fiona’s probably realized by now that she can go ahead and award the ranch to Pete. Who could catch up with him? It would take years for one of us to find a woman and then have tons of kids. And what if the woman we found only wanted one? Or none?”
Creed gulped. He tried to envision Aberdeen with a big belly, and failed. She was such a slender woman. He liked slender, but then again, a little baby weight would look good on her. He liked full-figured gals, too.
Hell, he liked them all.
But he’d especially liked her, for some reason.
“It was the thrill of the hunt, nothing more,” Judah said, his tone soothing. “Down, boy. It would have come to nothing.”
Creed scowled. “I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”
“We are not settled men by nature. None of us sits and reads a whole lot, for example.”
“Not true. Jonas read a hell of a lot to get through med school. And Sam for law school. And Rafe’s been known to pick up a Greek tome or two.”
“Pleasure reading. Expand-the-mind reading. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Well, we’re not reading romance novels, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Creed put away the chips, beginning to feel slightly sick to his stomach. “Although maybe you should.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Judah demanded.
“Maybe if you read romance novels, you’d be able to see that which has been at the end of your nose for years, dummy.” Creed jammed his hat down over his eyes, preparing to get in a few winks. “Think about it. It’ll come to you.” He pondered Judah’s thick skull for a moment, then said, “Or maybe not.”
Judah made no reply, which was fine with Creed, because all he wanted to do was sit and think about Aberdeen for a few minutes. Judah is wrong. I owe it to myself to see if I can find a woman I could fall for. I owe it to myself to try to figure out if I’d be a good father. Maybe I would. I like kids.
Wait. He didn’t know that for sure. Truthfully, Pete’s babies kind of intimidated him. Of course, they were no bigger than fleas. And fleas weren’t good.
Pete’s girls were cute as buttons. And they would grow. But they still made him nervous. Maybe he didn’t have uncle-type feelings in him. He’d been uninterested in holding them. But they were so small and fragile. I’ve eaten breadsticks bigger than their legs.
Damn. I’m twenty-nine, and I’m scared of my nieces. That can’t be good.
“Have you held Pete’s kids yet?” Creed asked Judah.
“Nah. They’re kind of tiny. And they yell a lot.” Judah shook his head. “I don’t want kids. I’m a quiet kind of guy. Organized. Peaceful. Small, squalling things are not peaceful.”
Creed felt better. Maybe he wasn’t totally a heel for not bonding with his nieces. “I just think I could be good at this, if I put my mind to it.”
“At what? Being a dad?” Judah snorted. “Sure. Why not? As long as you give up rodeo and getting dropped on your head, you might be all right.”
“Give up rodeo?” Creed echoed, the thought foreign and uncomfortable. He planned on rodeoing in the Grandfather’s Rodeo, if they had such a thing. They’d drag him out of the saddle when he was cold and dead and rigor mortis had set in. Cowboy rigor mortis. What man didn’t want to die with his boots on?
Of course, if he wasn’t good at it anymore… “What the hell am I doing?”
“Search me,” Judah replied. “I can’t figure you out, bro. It’d take a licensed brain-drainer to do that.”
Creed decided not to punch Judah, even though he was pretty certain he should. All he knew was that before his concussion, before he’d met Aberdeen, he’d been sure of who he was. He’d had a plan.
Now, he was asking himself all kinds of questions. Judah was right: It would take a shrink to figure out the knots in his brain.
I should have kissed her again. Then I wouldn’t be thinking about her. I’m shallow like that.
I really am.
TWO DAYS LATER, Johnny watched as a man he was particularly displeased to see walked into the bar. This reappearance couldn’t have come at a worse time. Johnny shook his head, wondering why bad pennies always had to return when a man needed a lucky penny in his boot.
He wasn’t surprised when Aberdeen went pale when she saw their customer. But then, to Johnny’s astonishment, Aberdeen brightened, and went to hug the tall, lanky cowboy.
“Hello, Shawn,” she said. “Long time, no see.”
“Too long.”
Blond-haired, smooth “Re-ride” Parker’s glance slid over Aberdeen’s curves. Johnny felt his blood begin to boil.
“Hello, Johnny,” Aberdeen’s ex-husband said.
“Re-ride,” Johnny muttered, not pleased and not hiding it.
“Fixed this place up nicely.” Re-ride looked around the bar. “I remember when it was just a hole in the wall.”
“How’s the rodeo treating you?” Johnny asked, figuring he could bring up unpleasantries if Shawn wanted. When Johnny had bought this place, it had been a hole in the wall—and Re-ride had just left Aberdeen with no means of support. Johnny had settled here to help Aberdeen mend the pieces of her shattered marriage, and seeing the cause of his sister’s former distress did not leave him in a welcoming frame of mind.
“I’m not riding much these days,” Shawn said, staring at Aberdeen, drinking her in, it seemed to Johnny, with an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm. “A man can’t be on the circuit forever.”
Johnny grunted. He followed the scores. He chatted to the cowboys who came in. Re-ride had never broken out of the bottom of the cowboy bracket. Maybe he had bad luck. Johnny didn’t follow him closely enough to know. What he did know was that he seemed to get a lot of “re-rides,” hence the name which had stuck all these years. In Johnny’s opinion, Shawn could have quit the circuit ten years ago and no one would have missed him. “Guess not. Want to buy a bar?”
Aberdeen scowled at him. “No, he most certainly does not, I’m sure. Shawn, can we offer you a soda?”
Re-ride glanced at Johnny. “Ah, no. Thanks, though. Actually, I stopped by to talk to you, Aberdeen. If you have a moment.”
Johnny felt his blood, which was already hot, heat up like he was sitting on a lit pyre of dry tinder.
“Johnny, can you listen out for th
e girls?” Aberdeen took off her apron, put the broom in the closet, and nodded to Shawn. “I do have a few minutes. Not long, though.”
“Girls?” Shawn asked, snapping out of his lusting staring for a moment.
“Aberdeen’s adopting three small children,” Johnny said cheerfully, instantly realizing how to stop the man from using his soft-hearted sister for whatever reason his rodent-faced self had conjured up. What Aberdeen saw in the man, Johnny would never understand. Sneaky like a rat.
“Johnny,” Aberdeen said, her tone warning as she opened the door. Re-ride followed her after tipping his hat to Johnny. Johnny ignored it, not feeling the need to socialize further.
This was no time for Re-Ride Parker to show up in Aberdeen’s life. He resented every time the man appeared—usually about once or twice a year—but this time was different. He could tell, like a wolf scenting danger on the wind. Shawn was up to no good. He was never up to any good, as far as Johnny was concerned, but the way he’d practically licked Aberdeen with his eyeballs had Johnny’s radar up. In fact, it was turned on high-anxiety.
Very bad timing, he told himself, but then again, that was Re-ride. Bad, bad timing.
“I’VE CHANGED MY MIND,” Fiona told the five brothers who came by for a family council—and to eat barbecue, grilled corn and strawberry cake. Pete was at his house with his daughters and Jackie, probably juggling to keep up with bottles and diapers. Creed had promised to give him the thumbnail sketch of what happened at the meeting.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind. And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about all of you. And your futures.” She looked around at them, and Creed noticed Burke give her a worried glance as he served drinks in the large upstairs library. “I can’t leave the ranch to the brother who gets married first and has the most children. That was my plan when Bode Jenkins got his cronies to try to legally seize this land for eminent domain purposes. His claim was that this particular property was too large for just one person to own—basically me—when the greater good could be affected by a new water system and schools. So I decided that if you all had children, we could make the case for the greater good, since there were plenty of Callahans. The state wouldn’t have the right—nor would they dream, I would hope—of tossing a large family off the only property you’ve all ever known.”
