His Callahan Bride's Baby (Callahan Cowboys) (10 page)

But if she intended to ignore him all the way to Florida, he was going to have to shake her out of her comfort zone.

At the next stop, Falcon and Taylor went inside for a lunch snack. She called her mother, smiling as she got off the phone.

“She’s having a wonderful time. Says everybody’s treating her like a queen. Never had so much fun on a vacation.” Taylor’s face glowed with happiness. “Thank you, Falcon.”

“Happy to do it for my future mother-in-law. What?” he asked, keeping his face innocent.

“I’m marrying Benton,” she said, as they went back out to the truck. “You don’t believe me, but we’ll both be happier this way.”

“Okay,” he said, not worried about ol’ Benton. Tighe and Dante had reported that Benton was a fingertip-kisser, a slow-gamer. They’d instructed him not to play a gentleman’s game, and though his brothers could be goofballs, he figured this was good advice. Good guys won only if they generated heat. Lots of sexy heat.

“I’ll drive,” he offered.

“I’m good, thanks.” She got in, turned the key.

The engine didn’t start. Didn’t even crank. Falcon looked out the window, completely unfazed.

He heard her try again, and then again.

“It won’t start,” Taylor said.

“Maybe it’s the heat,” Falcon said. “You had the truck checked over before you left Diablo, right?”

“Of course.” She tried again. “Nothing.”

“Huh. Odd.” Any more comment than that and she might be suspicious. He let his lasso out slowly to keep her from spooking.

“Maybe you could look under the hood.”

He smiled at her. “I could, but I know zip about mechanics.”

“Nothing?”

“Sorry.”

She sighed. “I guess I’ll call roadside assistance.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” He looked out the window, peeked back over at Taylor, noted the sweet roundness of her stomach where his son resided. “Or,” he said, “maybe we don’t wait for three hours for roadside assistance to come and figure out the problem, and
possibly
fix it today. Could be longer than three hours, depending on the problem. Could be a couple of days.”

“Days! My mother will be in Bermuda by then!”

He shrugged. “We could leave it here while they repair it, and fly to meet your mother.”

“I—” She looked around. “You think that would be best?”

He nodded. “Definitely. More fun, too.”

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “I think you’re right.”

“Good.” He didn’t mention he’d already bought tickets on his phone. While she called roadside assistance and dug her suitcase out of the back of the Airstream, he finished making arrangements for his brothers to come and get the Waterses’ vehicles.

They wouldn’t be needing them. When he and Taylor returned from their vacation, it would be on a plane, and they would be married.

This was their pre-honeymoon, even if Taylor didn’t think that was what she wanted. It was up to him to show her what she did want—
him
.

Chapter Ten

“How’s the snare?” Ash asked Falcon, having finally caught her brother between sudden urgent phone calls he was sending to Rancho Diablo. He needed backup—someone to pick up his not-bride-to-be’s vehicles. Which meant she was probably going to get pressed into duty soon.

Her brother owed her. Big-time. She should never have told him where Taylor was going. Why couldn’t she keep her big mouth shut.

“What snare?” Falcon demanded.

“The one you’re trying to set for Taylor.”

“Is ‘snare’ what the ladies are calling marriage these days?”

Ash sighed. Her boneheaded brother would have to figure out his love life on his own, if he could. “Hey, I need a favor. Because you owe me, and all that.”

“Name it.”

“I want you to tell Xav he has to come back to Rancho Diablo. I don’t care what the reason is, just send him back here.”

“That’s cheating, isn’t it? Using his job with the family to force him near you?”

“
Cheating’
s a harsh word. I prefer to call it
encouraging
.”

Falcon laughed. “I can’t do that.”

“And I shouldn’t have told you where Taylor was.” Ash looked out the kitchen window of Rancho Diablo, noting the three inches of snow piled up on the ground. “Are you going to be home for Christmas?”

“Not sure. Going to ride this ride as long as I can.”

She shook her head. “Tell Xav we’re short on coverage. It won’t be a lie.”

“Ash, look. If I send him back to Rancho Diablo, he’ll just go hide in the canyons again. He’s afraid of you.”

“Afraid?” She frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know why men are afraid of women. They just are. I think he’s a little scarred from watching his brothers and sister give up their freedom.” Falcon was silent for a moment. “Hey, Ash, have you ever thought that maybe you want a different guy? Maybe Xav isn’t the one.”

She gasped. “Fancy support coming from a man whose intended bride has had two proposals in the last ninety days. How would you feel if I told you that even though you somehow got Taylor pregnant, perhaps she was destined for someone else?” She bit a nail, thinking. “Actually, she’s been texting me to hunt up a wedding gown for her. She thinks that since we’ve had so many brides around Diablo, perhaps someone knows of a gown they’d like to sell. It’s not a bad idea, especially since two of the Callahan sisters-in-law own the bridal shop in town.”

“Wait,” Falcon said, “back up. What two proposals did Taylor get?”

“One from Benton and one from Storm Cash,” Ash said. “Which is really dumb, because she turned Storm down right off the bat, and then he asked me out to the December ball. Personally, I think Storm is lonely.”

“I don’t care if he is,” Falcon said. “I have to go, sis. We’re about to board.”

Ash straightened. “About Xav—”

“No.” Falcon’s voice was a little rough. “If a man is interested, nothing can stop him from being with the woman he wants, Ash. Xav’s not interested.”

The phone clicked off. Ash turned off her phone, sank onto a kitchen chair. Of course. Falcon was right. Xav wasn’t hiding from his feelings—he was hiding from her.

And she’d practically chased him away.

It was a very bitter thing to accept, but Ash knew it was true.

She went to find Fiona, her heart stunned and sore.

Fiona was curled up on a sofa in the sunroom, a box of tissues and some steaming tea beside her. “Hi,” she said, her voice croaky.

“You’re no better?” Ash sat down next to her aunt.

“It’s just a stupid cold trying to slow me down. Luckily, I have this new gadget,” she said, showing Ash her laptop, “because I’m ordering Christmas presents like mad. Thankfully, Santa delivers by mail when necessary.”

Santa didn’t deliver all dreams by mail. Ash sighed. “Aunt Fiona, we have to talk. Are you up to it?”

Fiona closed her laptop eagerly. “I always feel like talking.”

“It’s come to my attention that I’m wasting time—”

“Mooning after a certain cowboy,” Fiona said, her eyes bright. “I heard some of your conversation. Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right.” Ash looked at her aunt. “I hate those women who throw themselves at men.”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about throwing yourself. You only want a man who can catch you when you launch yourself his way.”

“I think he doesn’t,” Ash said, a trifle sadly.

“Then pooh on him. I’ll have the roof advertisement changed for you instead of Taylor. Goodness knows, we raked in the calls from possible princes. There are more men looking for a good woman than ladies realize.”

“It’s you, Aunt Fiona. You just always figure out the proper lure.” Although it wasn’t working for Falcon, either.

“It’s packaging,” Fiona said, looking her over carefully. “We’ll package you differently than we did Taylor, of course, and the bachelors will come running!”

Ash shook her head. “That’s the thing, Aunt Fiona. I think I want something different.”

Fiona blew her nose, popped in a cherry-flavored cough drop. “Tell your fairy godmother.”

Ash smiled. “Aunt Fiona, I don’t really think you have a wand.”

Fiona looked startled. “What do you mean?”

“Just that I’m too old to believe in Santa Claus and fairy godmothers.”

“Well, that’s a sour way to live.” Fiona sniffled. “Goodness me. Don’t let Xav suck all the romance out of you.”

“My life has been about reality. Reality works for me.” Ash looked at her aunt, realizing how much she’d come to love her over the past year they’d all been at Rancho Diablo. “Aunt Fiona, I know you don’t have a ranch for us to win.”

Fiona’s eyes went wide. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“I know you don’t have a ranch for me and my brothers to win.” Ash felt almost bad, as if it was Fiona’s bubble that was being burst rather than hers. But it was time for everyone to face the facts.

Fiona shook her head. “Ash Callahan, I’m surprised at you.” She gave her a shrewd look. “So what is it that you think you want now, since you haven’t got a man or a ranch to work for? No prizes left to win, so to speak?”

“I think I need to find my place,” Ash said softly. “I think I want to leave Rancho Diablo.”

* * *

F
ALCON
COULDN
’
T
REMEMBER
when he’d been more stunned. He hung up his phone, turned to look at the woman who was carrying his child. Storm Cash had proposed to Taylor? Why?

He couldn’t wrap his mind around that. The whole thing with Benton he did understand. Taylor thought Falcon didn’t want to marry her—he’d told her that—so she’d looked to greener pastures for a name for her baby. Benton H. Withers III was no threat to Falcon.

But Storm? That was his family’s enemy. He couldn’t understand how that relationship could possibly have come about. He stared across at Taylor as she sat reading a magazine, realizing he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought. She’d never once mentioned another proposal, and certainly not from Storm Cash.

He flung himself into the seat next to her. “So that was Ash on the phone.”

Taylor looked at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Your trailer’s made it back already. Turns out it was a simple fix on the truck.” Very simple. He’d just disconnected the battery.

Maybe he was getting karmic payback.

“So, Ash mentioned that Storm Cash had proposed to you.” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but it was killing him.

“Oh.” Taylor went back to reading her magazine. “Yes, he did.”

Annoyance smote Falcon. “I wasn’t aware you knew Storm that well.”

“He’s nice enough. I can’t say I know him well.” She didn’t look up from her reading. “He said he knew things had been tough for Mama and me, and he wanted to help us out.”

Falcon doubted Storm did things just to help out. Irritated tickles ran along the back of Falcon’s neck. The man just bugged him in the worst way. “I wish you’d told me.”

She looked at him, surprised. “Why? What difference does it make?”

It made a lot of difference. “Just didn’t realize you’d had two proposals in the last few months.”

“Three,” Taylor said, “if you include yourself, which I really don’t.”

Well, that was just nice, Falcon thought. She didn’t count his proposal. He shook his head, thinking.

He’d never considered himself a quitter. He was a fighter, like the rest of his clan.

But this was Diablo’s best girl, and everybody knew it, and marriage proposals weren’t an uncommon occurrence in her life. Nothing he’d done had made a difference—except getting her pregnant, and that was the thing that was keeping them together. And apart.

Falcon couldn’t stop the wild hammering of his heart. He closed his eyes, went inside himself, tried to stop the sensation that his world was falling, exploding.

“Are you all right?”

He wasn’t certain. “Maybe it’s a little hard for me to know that my marriage proposal is lumped with Storm’s.”

“Lumped how?”

“You...me. I’m not any different than Storm to you.”

“Falcon, I never went out with Storm.”

“You never went out with me, either.”

She looked at him. “We went out. You took me ghost-busting. I shot off the toe of a boot for you, buster. Your uncle’s friend complained that I took off his toe, but he exaggerated.” Taylor looked annoyed. “We did have a date, Falcon. I never went out with Storm.”

He wasn’t happy. “Storm is no friend of my family.”

“He comes into the diner from time to time.” She went back to reading her magazine. “I can’t call him a friend, but I don’t think he’s a boogeyman, either.”

She couldn’t understand. She didn’t know Rancho Diablo’s history. Falcon looked at the mother of his child, feeling very low. He’d never considered the possibility that Taylor didn’t dig him at all. That night he’d made love to her, she’d certainly seemed like she dug him—a lot—but ladies were fickle, weren’t they?

That was the hard part of being a guy. You just never knew what they were really thinking.

“Ash shouldn’t have told you,” Taylor said.

“Why? Why didn’t
you
tell me?”

“I didn’t tell you Benton had proposed, either,” Taylor said. “And you didn’t tell me you’d discombobulated my truck.”

He wanted to kiss her madly. She looked at him with those bright eyes and that soft smile, and he really thought that if he could just get her alone, in a romantic place with no Rancho Diablo, no brothers, no sister and no wily aunt, he could convince her the best way he knew how that she belonged with him. “Ash tell you about the truck?”

“Mmm.” Taylor put her magazine away. “It’s time to board. You coming? Or chickening out?”

She picked up her small bag and got in line. How had she known he was developing an extreme case of cold feet? That fear was washing over him like waves on a beach?

He couldn’t resist a challenge—and she’d just thrown one down he couldn’t walk away from. She knew that, too.

But he was still highly bugged about Storm. She probably knew that as well.

He followed Taylor onto the plane.

* * *

F
IVE
HOURS
LATER
, Taylor was on the beach, staring out at the ocean, and trying not to ogle the cowboy next to her. Okay, she totally hadn’t factored in the sight of Falcon in nothing but trunks. Black trunks that showed off a lot of muscles and a well-toned body. Women up and down the beach stared as they walked by, and when Falcon walked to the ocean to get on a surfboard he’d rented, ladies sat up to watch.

It was annoying. Taylor felt ungainly in her solemn black pregnancy tankini, not sexy at all. And ever since Falcon had found out about Storm, he’d been a bit quiet, maybe even distant. Very silent, for him, which was new.

It was almost as if he was going through the motions of being with her now. Which was a very strange change, since he’d been in hot pursuit up until he’d found out about Storm. He’d almost convinced her that he really wanted to marry her, despite the fact he’d said he no longer wanted to.

Frankly, he was the most confusing man she’d ever met.

Not that she had a whole lot to compare him to.

He flopped down in the chair beside her, bringing a bit of the ocean with him. All the women beside them lay back down, and Taylor considered the wet, muscled cowboy next to her. “Mom called.”

“Oh?”

The firm, rippling body just about had her sidetracked. She remembered too well how hot Falcon could make her. She tried to focus on her agenda. “She said she’s flying off to Turks and Caicos.”

He rolled over to stare at Taylor. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“This time.”

“That’s right. This time it’s all on Mom.” He looked confused. “What’s in Turks and Caicos?”

“Apparently,” Taylor said, “Mom met a rich guy who wants her to travel with him. She has a passport, she has some money you apparently gave her—”

He held up a hand. “Just enough to cover some expenses and a little extra. Not enough money to find a fortune hunter, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Taylor giggled. “Mom wouldn’t go off with a fortune hunter. He paid for her ticket and hotel. Turned out to be someone she knew from high school. If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was a Callahan behind that fix-up, but I really believe it was just a chance meeting.”

“Good.” He rolled back over.

“So now there’s no need for us to go to Bermuda,” Taylor said.

“Guess not.”

Taylor studied his wide brown shoulders, the lightning-strike tattoo on his right one—apparently, all the Chacon Callahans wore the same tattoo, but she didn’t know what it meant—the lean waist, and wet, dark hair streaming against his neck. “So we should go back to Diablo.”

“Yeah.”

He’d gotten himself in a right twist over the whole silly matter with Storm, and she had no idea how long it would take for him to work it out of his system. She wasn’t quite engaged to Benton, but she had told him she’d think about it—and she wasn’t thinking about Benton at all because all she did was drool over Falcon.

And drool she did.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to look at you and realize you’re the father of my child.”