by Tina Leonard
“I may have mentioned my role isn’t giving advice,” Burke said, “but if I had any, I would say that the lady in question seems to know her own mind. Therefore, she undoubtedly will not take well to being pushed.” Burke handed him a cookie. “I must go find the young ladies. It’s past time for their afternoon snack and nap.”
Creed nodded. “Thanks, Burke.”
The butler disappeared.
“I’m not hearing anything I want to hear,” Creed muttered. “I know a woman needs her space. But I’m no Re-ride.” He munched on the cookie, thinking it would taste better if Aberdeen was there to share it with him.
Between Burke’s special lemonade, the cookie and the advice, he thought he was starting to feel better. Not much, just a little, but better all the same.
He was going to be a father.
He wanted to be a husband, too.
He wanted Aberdeen like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life. If his aunt had sprung the perfect woman on him, she couldn’t have chosen better. He would easily trade Rancho Diablo if Aberdeen would be his wife. He wanted to spend the rest of his days lying in bed with her, holding her, touching her.
He was just going to have to hang on.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m worried about Sabrina McKinley,” Fiona said to Creed when he rolled into the kitchen. She was making a pie, blueberry, he was pretty sure.
For once, he had no appetite for Fiona’s baking. “You mean because of Bode?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t like his tone the other night. He made it sound like she was a prisoner or something. The man gives me the creeps.” She shook her head and placed the pie on a cooling rack. “I begin to rethink my plan of planting her, I really do, Creed.”
“Jonas checked on her. He’d know if something was wrong.” Creed sometimes wondered if his oldest brother had developed a secret penchant for Fiona’s spy. Then he dismissed that. Jonas was nothing if not boring. He’d never go for the Mata Hari type.
“I suppose.” She fluffed her hands off over the sink, brightening. “On the other hand, we have news to celebrate!”
“Yeah.” Creed didn’t know how his aunt always managed to hear everything lightning-fast. “I’m going to be a father.” He beamed, just saying the words a pleasure.
Fiona’s mouth dropped open. “You’re having a baby?”
He nodded. “Isn’t that the news you were talking about?”
She slowly shook her head. “I was going to say that we have one hundred and fifty beautiful, eligible bachelorettes attending the ball tomorrow night.” Her gaze was glued to him. “Is the mother Aberdeen?” she asked, almost whispering.
“Yes!” He stared at his aunt, startled. “Who else would it be?”
“How would I know?” Fiona demanded. “You were gone for months. I thought you had only just met Aberdeen when you got thrown at your last rodeo.”
He nodded. “Absolutely all correct.”
“That means you two got friendly awfully quickly.” She peered at him, her gaze steadfast. “Goodness, you’ve barely given the poor girl a chance to breathe! No wonder she left.”
He blinked. “Left?”
Fiona hesitated, her eyes searching his. “Didn’t she tell you?”
His heart began an uncomfortable pounding in his chest. “Tell me what?”
“That she was going back home? She left an hour ago.”
Creed sat down heavily in a kitchen chair. Then he sprang up, unable to sit, his muscles bunched with tension. “She didn’t say a word.”
“I think she said something about a letter. Burke!”
Her butler/secret husband popped into the kitchen. “Yes?”
“When Aberdeen thanked us for our hospitality and said she was leaving, did she leave a letter of some kind?”
Burke’s gaze moved to Creed. “She did. I am not to give it to Creed until six o’clock this evening.”
“The hell with that,” Creed said, “give it to me now.”
Burke shook his head. “I cannot. It was entrusted to me with certain specifications.”
Creed felt his jaw tightening, his teeth grinding as he stared at the elderly man prepared to stick to his principles at all costs. “Burke, remember the chat we had a little while ago out back?” Burke nodded.
“And you know I’m crazy about that woman?”
Burke nodded.
“Then give me the letter so that I can stop her,” Creed said, “please.”
Burke said. “Creed, you’re like a son to me. But I can’t go against a promise.”
“Damn it!” Creed exclaimed.
Fiona and Burke stared at him, their eyes round with compassion and sympathy.
“I apologize,” Creed said. He ran rough hands through his hair. His muscles seemed to lose form suddenly, so he collapsed in a chair. “I don’t suppose she said why?” he asked Fiona.
Fiona shook her head. “She said she needed to be back home. I asked her to stay for the ball, and she said she felt she’d only be underfoot. However,” she said brightly, “Diane, Johnny and the girls stayed.”
“Good,” Creed said, shooting to his feet, “I’ve got a future brother-in-law to go pound.”
“He’s a guest!” Fiona called after him. “He saved your life!”
Creed strode out to find Johnny—and some answers.
FIVE HOURS LATER, at exactly six o’clock—and after learning that Johnny and Diane knew nothing at all about Aberdeen’s departure—Burke finally presented Aberdeen’s letter to Creed, formally, on a silver platter.
The envelope was white, the cursive writing black and ladylike. Creed tore it open, aware that his family was watching his every move. News of Aberdeen’s departure—and pregnancy—had spread like wildfire through Rancho Diablo. No one had had a clue that Aberdeen had wanted to leave.
Of course he’d known. In his heart, he’d known she was questioning their relationship from the minute she’d seen the ranch and the jet to the moment she’d learned she was pregnant.
Creed,
I want you to know how sorry I am that I will be unable to keep our bargain. As you know, at the time we made it, I was under the belief that Diane wanted me to adopt her children. I had no idea when, or if, Diane might return. But now I am hopeful that, given a little more time with her daughters and the gentle comfort of Rancho Diablo, my sister is gaining a true desire and appreciation of what it means to be a mother. This is more than I could have ever hoped for. For that reason, I’m leaving her here, in good hands, as Fiona has offered her employment. I know Diane is happy here, happier than I might ever be. It seems a fair trade-off.
My part of the bargain to you was that marriage might cure your aunt’s desire to see you married to help keep Rancho Diablo. I don’t think you’ll need my help. All of you seem quite determined to keep fighting, and I pray for the best for you. Mr. Jenkins seems most disagreeable, so I hope the good guys win. After the ball tomorrow night, perhaps all of your brothers will find wonderful wives. That is something else I will be praying for.
As you know, I have a congregation and a life back in Lance that means a lot to me. When I met you, I believed you were basically an itinerant cowboy. Marrying you for your name on an adoption application didn’t seem all that wrong, considering that you, too, had a need of marriage. Now that I’ve met your family, I know that it would be wrong for me to marry you under false pretenses. That’s just not the kind of person I am. Yours is a different kind of lifestyle than I could ever live up to. In the end, though you are a wonderful, solid man, I realize that my life and your life are just too different. With Diane finding her footing with her girls, I think this is a happy ending. I have you and your family to thank for that. So I’d say that any debt that may have existed before is certainly wiped out.
I know too well that you will want visitation rights once the baby is born. You no doubt have lawyers available to you who can draw up any documents you wish to that effect.
I know we will
be talking in the future about our child’s welfare, so I hope we can remain friends.
All my best,
Aberdeen
P.S. I have entrusted Burke with the engagement ring. Thank you so much for the gesture. For a while, I did feel like a real fiancée.
He looked up from the letter, his heart shattered. “She left me,” he said, and his brothers seemed to sink down in their various chairs.
The silence in the room was long and hard. No one knew what to say to him. His hands shook as he stared at the letter again. She didn’t feel like a real fiancée.
How could she not? Had he not loved her every chance he got? “She says she didn’t feel like a real bride-to-be,” he murmured. “But she’s having my baby. How can she not feel like she’s going to be a real wife?”
Jonas cleared his throat. “Women get strange sometimes when they’re pregnant,” he said, and Fiona gasped.
“That’s not kind, Jonas Callahan!” She glared at him.
“It’s true,” Pete said. “Jackie gave me a bit of a rough road when she found out she was pregnant. There we were, this perfectly fine relationship—”
“That went on and on,” Sam said. “Every woman has heard that a man who sleeps with her for a hundred years isn’t serious about her, so you were only a Saturday-night fling, as far as she knew.”
Pete stiffened. “But that wasn’t how I felt about her. She just saw our relationship on a completely different level.”
“I am never going through this,” Judah said, “and if I do find a bride—and I hope I don’t—but if I do, I’m going to do it right. None of this bride-on-the-run crap.” He leaned back in the sofa, shaking his head.
“Maybe it’s not that simple,” Rafe said. “Maybe she didn’t like it here.”
“She didn’t seem quite herself,” Creed said, “but I put it down to the fact that she was worried about her nieces.” Yet he’d known deep inside that hadn’t been all of it. “I guess she didn’t love me,” he said, not realizing that he’d spoken out loud.
“Did you tell her you did?” Rafe asked.
Creed glanced up from the letter. “Not specifically those very words. I mean, she knew I cared.”
“Because she was clairvoyant,” Sam said, nodding.
“Hey,” Jonas said, “your time is coming, young grasshopper. Go easy on Creed.”
“I’m just saying,” Sam said, “that it’s not like she’s some kind of fortune-teller like Sabrina.”
Everyone sent him a glare.
“Well, I did think she was the more quiet of the two sisters,” Aunt Fiona said. “I wondered about it, I must say. I put it off to her being shy, perhaps, and—”
“That’s why you offered Diane a job,” Creed said, realization dawning like a thunderclap. He sent his aunt a piercing look. “You knew Aberdeen wasn’t happy here, and you were trying to keep her little nieces here at the ranch!”
Fiona stared at him. “Oh, poppycock. That’s a lot of busybodying, even for me, Creed. For heaven’s sake.”
He was suspicious. “Did Aberdeen tell you she wasn’t happy here? With me?”
Fiona sighed. “She merely thanked me for my hospitality and said she had parents and a congregation to get back to. It wasn’t my place to ask questions.”
“So she never told you we’d had an agreement based on her feeling that a husband might put her in a more favorable light to an adoption committee?” Creed asked.
“So when Fiona offered Diane a job, and Aberdeen could see that things might be working out for her sister, the marriage contract between you two could be nullified,” Judah said, nodding wisely.
“Oops,” Aunt Fiona said. “I had no idea, Creed. I was just thinking to help Diane get on her feet again.”
It wasn’t Fiona’s fault. He and Aberdeen had an agreement which, to her mind, was no longer necessary, so she’d chosen to leave him. She couldn’t be blamed for that, either, since he’d never told her that he was wolf-crazy about her. Creed grunted. “What happens if Diane doesn’t accept your offer of employment?”
Fiona straightened. “She will.” She looked uncertain for a moment. “She’d better!”
“Because you fell for the little girls?” Creed asked, knowing he had, too. It was going to drive him mad if they left—and yet, if Diane chose to leave with her daughters, he would wish them well and hide his aching heart.
“No,” Fiona said. “I would never dream of interfering in someone’s life to that extent. She just happens to have recipes from around the world, thank you very much, due to all her travels. And she has experience taking care of elderly parents. And I could use a personal secretary.” Fiona sniffed.
Groans went up from around the room. Fiona glared at her nephews. “Oh, all right. Is there anything wrong with giving a mother time to bond with her daughters? Perhaps all she had was a little bit of the blues. Does it matter? I like Diane. I like Johnny. And I like Aberdeen.” She shook her head at Creed. “Of course I didn’t mean to do anything that would give Aberdeen the license to leave you, but I didn’t know the nature of your relationship. It was up to you to discuss your feelings with her, which I’m sure you did amply.”
Creed grunted. “I was getting around to it.”
A giant whoosh of air seemed to leave the room. His brothers stared at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but at him. Creed’s shoulders sagged for a moment. He hadn’t, and now it was too late.
“Give her time,” Fiona said. “If I was in her shoes, I’d want time.”
He held on to this jewel of advice like a gold-miner. “You really think—”
“I don’t know,” Fiona said, “although all of you seem to think I know everything. I don’t. I just think Aberdeen has a lot on her mind. I would let her figure it out on her own for a while, perhaps.”
“It might be sound counsel, considering the lady in question is mature and independent-natured,” Burke murmured in his soft Irish brogue. Burke didn’t hand out advice willy-nilly, so he was sharing knowledge of how he’d won Fiona.
“And the baby?” Creed asked, his heart breaking.
Fiona shook her head, silent for once.
The minutes ticked by in still quiet. Creed read the letter again, feeling worse with every word. Judah got up, crossing to the window of the upstairs library. “The Diablos are running,” Judah said, and though the joy of knowing the wild horses were still running wild and free on Callahan land sang in Creed’s veins, he stared at out at them, not really believing their presence portended mystical blessings anymore.
Chapter Eighteen
Aunt Fiona’s First Annual Rancho Diablo Charity Matchmaking Ball was a knock-out success, Creed acknowledged. Ladies of all makes and models came to the ranch by the carload. If he’d still been a single man, he might have been as holistically lighthearted as Sam, who was chasing ladies like a kid at a calf-catch. He thought Johnny Donovan garnered his fair share of attention, though the big man never seemed to do more than dance politely with any lady who lacked a partner. Jonas was his usual stuck-in-the-mud self. If anybody was ever betting on Jonas to finally have a wild night in his life, the bettor was going to lose his money to the house. Jonas was a geek, and that was all he was going to be.
The one shocker of the evening was that Judah and Darla Cameron—who’d had her eyes on Judah forever, not that his clown of a brother had the sense to realize it—actually seemed to engage in a longer-than-five-minute conversation. The chat lasted about twenty minutes, Creed estimated, even more surprised to see his brother initiate said conversation. To his great interest, he saw Darla head off, leaving Judah standing in the shadows of the house. Creed spied with enthusiasm, watching his boneheaded brother watching Darla walk away.
And then, just when he thought Judah was the dumbest man on the planet, beyond dumb and moving toward stupid-as-hell, Judah seemed to gather his wits and hurried after Darla. Creed snickered to himself and drank his beer. “Dumb, but not terminal,” he muttered to himself, and than
ked heaven he’d never been that slow where a good woman was concerned.
Or maybe he was. Creed thought about Aberdeen being up north, and him being here, and fought the temptation to give in and call her. Johnny said Aberdeen was stubborn. And on this Creed thought Johnny probably had a point.
He was willing to give her time, but it seemed like the cell phone in his pocket cruelly never rang with a call from her.
Creed went back to pondering Aunt Fiona’s wonderful party. As bachelor busts went, it was one for the ages. Any of them should get caught. Not me, I’m already caught, even if my woman doesn’t know it. But it’ll be fun for us all to get settled down, and then we’ll raise a bunch of kids together, and instead of marriage feeling like a curse, we’ll all look back and laugh about how determined we were to stay footloose and fancy-free.
Except for my dumb twin. Rafe is a worm that will never turn. He watched Rafe go by, stuck in wolf mode, a bevy of absolutely gorgeous women tacked on to him like tails pinned on a donkey. Disgusting, Creed thought, that anyone considered his brother deep-thinking and existential when he was really a dope in wolf’s clothing. Rafe looked like a man on his way to an orgy, dining at the table of sin with great gusto.
Disgusting.
Johnny sat down next to him on the porch swing. “You’re not doing your part, dude. Aren’t you supposed to be dancing?”
Creed shrugged. “I danced with a couple of wallflowers, so Aunt Fiona wouldn’t be embarrassed. But I’m wallflowered out now.”
“Nice of some of the local guys to show up and help out with the chores of chivalry,” Johnny said.
“Everyone loves a lady in a party dress,” Creed said morosely. “Heard from your sister? She’s not coming back tonight to make sure I have my dance card filled? Induce me to give up my swinging-single lifestyle?”
