“Whoa,” Jonas said, “Aunt Fiona, that little gypsy is a private investigator?”
Aunt Fiona nodded. “She’s actually an investigative reporter, which is even better because sometimes they’re nosier. It’s her sister, Seton, who’s the actual gumshoe. And don’t sound so shocked, Jonas. You didn’t think she was a real fortune-teller? She was playing a part I hired her to play.”
Creed was having trouble dealing with all this new information. “But didn’t she say that our ranch was in trouble, and a bunch of other nonsense?”
“Yes, but I gave her a script. I was trying to warn you, spur you along. As I mentioned, you’re all quite slow. Thick, even. Why, I’d say molasses in winter moves faster than my nephews.” She gave a pensive sigh. “The problem is, you don’t have a home anymore. We don’t have a place to run our business. And only Pete got married. At least he’s happy,” she said. “At least he found a wonderful woman.” She cast an eye over the rest of her charges. “The rest of you will have a less favorable position to offer a wife. Your stock has dropped, as they say.”
“Okay,” Jonas said, “let’s not think about our marital futures right now. Let’s deal strictly with the business end.”
“I say we go kick Bode Jenkins’ skinny ass,” Sam put in, and everyone shouted, “No!”
Sam said, “What a bunch of pansies.”
“You have to be more sly than that,” Fiona said sternly. “Violence is unacceptable. It’s all about the mind, and I simply got out-thought.”
“I’ll have a friend eyeball the papers,” Jonas said thoughtfully. “In the meantime, I’m closing on that land I offered on next week. We’re not exactly homeless. If we have about nine months, we have enough time to move Rancho Diablo operations there. And build a house. It won’t be like this one,” he said, glancing around the room, “but it will be ours.”
“What would you supposedly get for the house and land—if the deal is for real?” Rafe asked.
“Only ten million dollars,” Fiona said. “A half of what it’s worth for all the land, the house, and—”
She stopped, glanced at Burke, who shrugged.
“And?” Creed prompted.
“And mineral rights, and so on,” she said, and Creed wondered if she’d just hedged some information. Fiona was known to keep her cards close to the vest. “It’s a pittance, when you consider that we won’t be able even to use the name Rancho Diablo anymore. We will truly be starting our brand from the bottom again.”
Fiona’s cheeks had pink spots in them and her eyes glittered. Creed could see that not only was her pride stung because Bode had outwitted her, she was crushed to have to give her nephews this hard news.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Creed said. “For now, this is enough to digest. I don’t think you should trouble yourself anymore tonight, Aunt Fiona.”
Judah nodded. “I agree. My only question is, Bode hasn’t been bothering you lately, has he?”
Fiona shook her head. “He’s been pretty quiet since he thinks he got me over a barrel.”
“About Sabrina,” Jonas said. “What happens if Bode finds out that she’s actually a reporter?”
They all took that in for a moment. Bode was known for his hot temper and grudges. He was underhanded, unforgiving. The tall, skinny man was unkind to just about everyone he knew; he kept people in his pocket by making sure he had whatever they needed. Bode was a power broker; he liked that power, and no one crossed him lightly.
Creed looked at his aunt. “Do you think involving her was a good idea, Aunt Fiona?”
“She and her sister came highly recommended. They are the nieces of—”
“Oh, no,” Sam said, “not one of your Books ’n’ Bingo cronies.”
Fiona arched a brow at her youngest nephew. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I always hire friends, whether it’s for curtain-making, preserving or tree-trimming. There’s no better way to ensure loyalty and fairness in a job than to hire one’s friends.”
Creed’s heart sank a little, too, just south of his boots. Aunt Fiona was in over her head. The expressions on his brothers’ faces confirmed his own doubts. His cell phone jumped in his pocket, forestalling his worried thoughts. Glancing at the number, he frowned, wondering why he’d be getting a call from Wyoming.
Probably something to do with the rodeo he’d crashed out of. “Excuse me for a moment, Aunt Fiona,” he said, and stepped outside the library. “Hello?”
“Creed Callahan?” a man asked.
“Yes. Who’s speaking?”
“This is Johnny Donovan. You were at our place—”
“I remember you, Johnny. How are you doing?” Creed’s heart jumped right back up into his chest where it belonged as he wondered if Aberdeen might have put Johnny up to calling him. He could only hope.
“I’m fine. In a bit of a tight spot, actually.”
“Oh?” Johnny had seemed capable of handling just about anything. “Something I can help with?”
“Actually, yes, perhaps,” Johnny said. “You remember my sister, Aberdeen?”
Did he ever. “Yeah.” He made his voice deliberately disinterested, not wanting to sound like an overeager stud.
“Well, I’m wondering—jeez, this is awkward,” Johnny said. “I’m wondering if I paid your way back up here for a week, could you come keep an eye on my bar?”
Creed’s jaw went slack. “Um—”
“I know. Like I said, it’s awkward as hell. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t up against it, and if I didn’t know that you were taking a bit of time off from the circuit.”
“Yeah, I am.” Creed sank into a hallway chair, staring out the arched, two-story windows that looked out over flat, wide, beautiful Rancho Diablo. “What’s going on?”
“I need to be in Montana for a few weeks. Aberdeen needs to be there as well. We have a child custody hearing coming up.”
Creed frowned. He didn’t remember anything being discussed about children. Did Aberdeen have kids? He knew nothing about her personal life—and yet, whenever he thought about her, he got an irrational shot of pleasure. I’m doomed. I’m damned. She’s not only a preacher but one with custody issues. Yee-haw. “I see,” he murmured, not seeing at all, but wanting to prod Johnny into spilling more info.
“Yeah. We can close the bar for two weeks, but I still hate to leave it unattended. This isn’t the best area of town, as you know. We’re kind of out of the way. I have a ton of friends here who could watch it, but frankly, I was thinking you owed me one.”
Creed laughed, detecting teasing in Johnny’s voice. “I probably do.”
“I believe in doing business between friends,” Johnny said. “The pay is generous. My bar’s my livelihood. I’d like to keep it in safe hands.”
Creed grinned. “And you don’t want to keep it open?”
“Not necessarily, unless you want to. You don’t have any experience with a bar or family-owned restaurant, do you?”
“Not so much.” Creed wondered if he should back away from the offer politely or jump at the chance to see if Aberdeen still smoked his peace pipe the way he remembered she did. He was pretty certain she set him on fire all over. Sure, any woman could probably do that if a man was in the right, open mood, Creed mused—but Aberdeen seemed to do it for him even when she aggravated the hell out him.
He thought that was a pretty interesting juxtaposition. “We do have a family business, but it isn’t in the same field as yours. We don’t have strangers knocking on our door at all hours, not often anyway.”
Johnny laughed. “So you’ll do it?”
“I might. Let me run it past the family.”
“Sounds mafia-like.”
Creed grinned to himself. “Sometimes it can seem that way to outsiders. I’ll get back in touch with you soon, Johnny. Good to hear from you.”
He turned off his phone, sitting and considering this new twist for a moment. His gaze searched the wide vista outside, its dusty expanse vibrant even as night was covering the mesa. And then, he saw them, running like the wind across the faraway reaches of the ranch, black as night, fast as wind, free as spirits.
“Los Diablos,” he murmured, awed by the hypnotizing beauty. “The Diablos are running!” he called to his brothers, and they came out of the library to stand at his side, watching in silence, shoulder to shoulder, knowing this might be one of the last times they ever saw the beautiful horses materializing across the evening-tinged swath of Rancho Diablo land.
“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Aberdeen asked Johnny as she walked into the upstairs living room. “You look like you’re thinking deep thoughts.”
Johnny put his cell phone in his pocket. “No deeper than usual.”
She smiled at him. “Then why are you frowning?”
“I’ve just been thinking about how we’re going to make this all work out.”
“Oh.” She nodded and sat down on a worn cloth sofa. “I finally got all three girls to sleep. They are so sweet when they sleep. They look so angelic and happy.”
A small smile lifted Johnny’s mouth—but not for long. “Has Diane called to check on them?”
Aberdeen shook her head. “I think she probably won’t for a while. I did talk to Mom and Dad today. They said Diane has decided to go around the world on a sailboat with her new boyfriend. They expect the trip to take about a year and a half.”
Johnny’s face turned dark. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wouldn’t joke about that.” Aberdeen sighed. “We need her at least to sign some forms that state we can make medical decisions for the girls while she’s gone.”
“I’m going over to France,” Johnny said, and Aberdeen could see his jaw was tight. “I’m going to try to talk some sense into her. She just can’t abandon her children. I don’t know if she needs medication or what is going on—”
“Johnny.” Aberdeen patted the sofa cushion beside her. “Come sit down.”
He sighed. “Maybe I need a drink.”
“It wouldn’t help. I think you going to France is a good idea. I’ll stay here with the girls and start looking for a house and school and a doctor.”
“Have you ever thought how much having the girls here is going to change your life, even more than mine?”
Aberdeen blinked. “There’s no point to worrying about the situation. We love the girls. Diane, as much as I hate to say it, appears to be unfit or unwilling at the moment.”
Johnny sat silently for a few minutes. “I’ll make a plane reservation. I may drag Diane back here kicking and screaming, though.”
“Do you want me to go?” Aberdeen asked, and Johnny quickly shook his head.
“No. You’ve got enough to do in the next two weeks for the custody hearing.” Johnny stood, going to look out a window over the parking lot. “I think I might sell the bar, Aberdeen.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Why?”
He didn’t turn around. “I think it’s time.”
“Is this because of Shawn?” she asked, hating to ask but feeling she had to. She was aware Johnny had been biting his tongue for the past two weeks to keep from complaining about her ex-husband’s frequent presence. It would be like Johnny to decide to sell the bar and move the newly enlarged family to Timbuktu if he thought he could get rid of Shawn. Johnny didn’t understand her rosy daydreams of romance with Shawn were long evaporated. Shawn was comfortable, someone she’d grown up with, in a strange way.
“No,” he said, but she wondered if he was being completely truthful. “But on that unpleasant topic, is there a reason he’s suddenly hanging around again?”
A flush ran up Aberdeen’s cheeks and neck. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean, or if he has a specific reason for his presence. He says he’s changed—”
“Ugh,” Johnny interrupted. “Changed what? His spots? I don’t think so.”
That stung. Aberdeen blinked back tears. “Johnny, he’s been through a lot. It’s not like I’d remarry him. You know that.”
“I just think it’s not a good time for someone like him to be in your life if we’re serious about getting custody of the kids.”
“I think he’s lonely, and nothing more.”
“You’re not lonely right now,” Johnny pointed out. “You’re busy raising three little girls who really need you.”
“Shawn knows me. He’s a part of my past.”
Johnny turned away. Aberdeen took a deep breath. “So, why are you really thinking about selling the bar? You’ve mentioned it a couple of times. I’m beginning to think you might really be considering it.”
“Aberdeen,” Johnny said suddenly, ignoring her question, “If your Prince Charming rode up tomorrow on a white horse, would you want that?”
“I think by twenty-nine a woman doesn’t believe in fairy tales. The fairy godmother never showed up for me.” She touched her brother on the arm, and after a moment, he gave her a hug. They stood together for a few moments, and Aberdeen closed her eyes, drinking in the closeness.
Just for a few heartbeats, she felt Johnny relax. He was sweet big brother again, not worried, not overburdened by life. She let out a breath, wishing this feeling could last forever.
The sound of a baby crying drifted across the hall. Aberdeen broke away from Johnny, smiling up at him. “Don’t worry so much, big brother,” she said, but he just shook his head.
“By the way,” he said offhandedly as she started to leave the room to check on Lincoln Rose and her sisters. “I’ve got Creed Callahan coming to watch over the bar while we’re away.”
Aberdeen looked at Johnny. It didn’t matter that her heart skipped a beat—several beats—at the mention of Creed’s name, or that she’d thought she’d never see him again. “That’s probably a good idea,” she murmured, going to comfort the baby, wondering if her brother thought he had to play matchmaker in her life. Johnny was worried she was falling for Shawn again. So had he called in a handpicked Prince Charming?
It would be so like Johnny—but if he was meddling in her life, she’d have to slap him upside his big head.
He just didn’t understand that Creed Callahan, while handsome enough to tease her every unattended thought, was no Prince Charming—at least not hers.