His Callahan Bride's Baby

Ash seated herself cross-legged on the ground and grinned. “First, it seems she has a problem with the way one of her neighbors is treating his horses. Taylor’s been making noise about someone needing to take the animals from their owner. Then,” Ash continued, as if that wasn’t enough for one woman to tackle, “Taylor’s decided the town elders need to do something about the panty raid the high school kids had on Friday night. Some people thought it was harmless fun, but some people thought the kids ought to get suspended, since all the panties ended up on the lawn of Miss Lyda’s old folks home south of town.” His sister laughed, delighted.

Truthfully, he didn’t care much about the shenanigans of the high schoolers, and preferred to spend some time thinking about the type of panties Taylor might wear. “What’s Taylor agitating for?”

Ash grinned. “She thinks the high schoolers involved need to be commissioned for a sing-in on the porch of Miss Lyda’s, to entertain the live-in residents. And she wants them to spend an afternoon painting Miss Lyda’s fence and porch to freshen it up a bit. Miss Lydia does her best, but everybody’s wallets are a little thinner these days. She could use the help. Taylor believes the kids need to spend a little time around their elders, who could teach them a thing or two about life. Panty raids are fun, she told the town council, but life lessons are important, too.”

And that’s why Diablo loved her. Falcon grunted. “If she gets it arranged, I’ll put up the paint.”

“You will?” Ash stared at him.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “The town’s wallet isn’t so full these days, either. And I’ll go check out the farmer whose horses Taylor thinks aren’t in great shape.”

“Why are you doing this?” Ash demanded. “I mean, I guess it’s obvious, but it’s not necessary, just because you lost your mind for a moment and proposed. You don’t have to convince her you’re a saint.”

“I’m no saint.” That was absolutely true. Falcon couldn’t care less if people thought he was saint or devil. “I need to get off my butt, anyway.”

“Yeah. Right.” Ash gave him a sidelong look. “We prefer to keep your goodness under wraps, you know. Your Boy Scout side is for family consumption only. You’re going to make Taylor fall in love with you.”

“That’s the plan.”

Ash shook her head. “I’m beginning to think you honestly mean that.”

Taylor was strong, strong enough to match him and stand up to him. She wouldn’t wither away under the stress of his lifestyle.

Their grandfather came to the circle and lit the small fire.

“You remember that you were brought here to protect Rancho Diablo, the Diablo spirit mustangs and your cousins,” Running Bear said. “The Callahan bond to earth and sky is strong.”

His brothers and Ash nodded. Falcon stayed still, his gaze on his grandfather’s weathered face.

“More importantly, you know that you protect your parents, Julia and Carlos, and the parents of your Callahan cousins, Jeremiah and Molly, from discovery. From attack. Dark forces have gathered on the land in the canyons and gorges. In the last year, three mercenaries have followed your every move, even kidnapping one of your women.”

Falcon glanced at his brother Sloan. Sloan’s wife, Kendall, had been briefly kidnapped by one of the mercenaries, who’d turned out to be a family relative—Uncle Wolf, brother to Jeremiah and Carlos, and determined to harm his own brothers. Wolf was the dark, fallen angel of the family.

“Now that the Diablo Callahans remain in Hell’s Colony, Texas, it should have become quiet here at Rancho Diablo.” Running Bear looked at the sky for a moment, thoughtful. “You will be stretched a little thin when Dante and Tighe leave.”

Falcon stared at his brothers. The twins looked a bit sheepish in the face of their family’s shock.

“What do you mean?” Ash demanded. “Where are you going?”

“We might try our hand at rodeo,” Dante said. “We’re not cut out for this detail. The constant waiting is making us crazy.”

“Yeah,” Tighe said. “It’s like we’re waiting for a war that never starts.”

“Finks,” Ash told her brothers. “How can you turn your backs on family? Jonas and Aunt Fiona and Uncle Burke wouldn’t turn their backs on you!”

Dante and Tighe looked crestfallen at their sister’s criticism.

“Let them go,” Running Bear said. “Dreams cannot be ignored. They must be lived.”

“Oh, bother.” Ash glared at her brothers. “Well, maybe I’ll go off on a toot myself. Maybe we’ll all just pack up and go off chasing rainbows and unicorns.”

“You can’t,” Dante said. “Who would watch over Fiona?”

“It’s all right,” Falcon said, opting to play the role of peacemaker. “The ranch will survive.”

Ash turned her head away from Dante and Tighe. Falcon thought his brothers seemed to shrink at her obvious censure of them.

“I agree with Falcon,” Galen said. “We’re all following our own dreams. We have to live our lives to some extent. This commission is going to take years. Besides, Falcon’s proposed to a woman in town. Sloan’s married. Life goes on.”

“We just don’t feel like we’re doing anything,” Tighe said. “The mercenaries haven’t been around in months. For all we know, they’re gone.”

They all looked at Running Bear. He shrugged. “Tonight, you must focus on deciding to stay here or to go. This ring of stone and fire is your home, for as long as you want it to be.”

“We’re never going back to the tribe, are we?” Jace asked.

Running Bear shook his head. “That path would lead the enemy to your parents’ door. I remind you that one of you is the hunted one. You must guard against any division that may reside inside you. There will come a time when you have a split second to make a decision, a moment when you stand at a fork in the road. You will not recognize the danger, but the choice you make will live with you, and all of us, forever. Until then, here you stay, until you walk away.”

His grandfather’s ominous words were chosen carefully, a warning. Falcon had only one choice, and that was to stand and fight. “I’m staying. Rancho Diablo’s good as anyplace else to live, and besides, I really like Aunt Fiona and Burke.” For that matter, he liked the town of Diablo. He felt his soul take flight on the rare occasion when the Diablos were spotted in the dusty canyons that were the ancient, stunning backdrop to the ranch. “Family’s first with me. I’m a soldier, and then I’m a family man. Can’t walk away from a good fight, especially since it involves family.” He tossed a handful of dirt into the fire, where it briefly dimmed the flames.

“I’m staying,” Ash said. “I’m hard core.” She flung dirt into the fire and walked to kiss her grandfather on the cheek, then mounted her horse. “I’ve got land to win,” she told her brothers. “The only way to win is to hang tough.”

“And lure Xav Phillips to fall for you,” Dante said.

“Good luck with that,” Tighe said.

“Just because you two got dumped on your heads by the nanny bodyguards is no reason to doubt Ash,” Falcon said. “She’s smarter than all of us. Good luck with the rodeo. Let us know where you’re riding sometime. We might come around.”

He left the stone circle, following his sister off on horseback. He knew who would stay and who would go; there was no need to linger.

Every man had to do what he had to do.

Falcon was called to serve.

* * *

F ALCON KEPT FOLLOWING Ash the second he realized his sister wasn’t heading toward the Tudor-style Rancho Diablo mansion with the seven chimneys, but toward the canyons. He knew Xav practically lived in the canyons, rarely returning to the ranch for supplies, but Ash wasn’t heading in the right direction. It looked as if she was skirting the deep crevasses of the mesas, heading to the opposite side of where Xav kept his camp.

Falcon tried to envision what life would be like if he didn’t have a headstrong sister, and realized it would be dull as dirt. Probably one reason he was attracted to Taylor was that she was a spitfire, cut from a mold similar to Ash and Aunt Fiona, and his own mother, Julia. No wallflowers among the women he knew.

Taylor was more right for him than she knew.

Suddenly, Ash halted her big horse, wheeling around to glare at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Falcon asked. “Have you heard that there are mercs in the canyons who are known to kidnap Callahan women for sport?”

“I can take care of myself.”

This was true. “Let me go with you. I’m feeling a need to ride and clear my head.”

“And babysit me,” Ash said disapprovingly.

“It’s my sense of adventure. If I don’t hang out with you, I’ll probably end up following in Tighe and Dante’s footsteps.”

“Traitors. Both of them.”

“No.” Falcon shook his head. “All of us have a destiny to follow.”

“Whatever. Destiny is just a pansy word for shiftless. Lazy. Spineless. Maybe it was my destiny to get up this morning and eat chocolate chip cookies and drink beer for breakfast, but I didn’t. I told Destiny to get the heck away from me.”

“And ate rocks instead,” Falcon said. “You have to forgive people who aren’t as strong as you.”

“Whatever,” Ash said. “Tighe and Dante are strong. They just want to chase buckle bunnies. Their pride’s a bit stung because they got smacked down by River and Ana. And right they were to turn my brothers down, since they’re spineless weenies.” She turned her horse and took off like the wind, riding across the flat land as if demons were after her.

Falcon checked his gun, made sure it was locked, and tucked it into his jeans. Then he followed his sister at a leisurely pace, his mind turning to Taylor again. Seemed as if he thought about her a thousand times a day. Maybe more.

It felt great.

* * *

T WENTY MINUTES LATER, Ash finally stopped her horse, slid off and tied it to a wizened tree where it could get a bit of shade and cool off in the late evening air. Falcon stopped next to his sister, knowing exactly what she was up to now.

“Looking at this land isn’t going to do anything but make you hungrier for it,” he said, dismounting.

“I like being hungry.” Ash stared at the wide expanse of empty land. In the distance a small traditional adobe stood, marking the emptiness. “You’re hungry, too, or you wouldn’t have proposed to that town girl. You barely know her.”

“I don’t have to know Taylor. I like the way she looks.” He watched as his sister pulled out small binocs and peered toward the farmhouse.

“It’s going to be mine,” Ash said. “You can propose to fifty girls, but this is going to be Sister Wind Ranch.”

“Nice. But I have a different name in mind. Thanks.”

She glared at him. “You don’t have a name for it.”

“I do.”

“What is it?”

Okay, so he didn’t have a name. He hadn’t thought about it much. He just knew he hadn’t wanted to get beat by his siblings in the race for the ranch. “It’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“And there it will stay. Fibber.” Ash put away the binocs. “Come on. Let’s walk to the farmhouse.”

“Why?” He followed behind her. “This is private property.”

“Yeah, it’s private. Fiona owns it.”

“Do we know that for sure?”

“She said the Callahan estate bought it.”

He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but Ash had a determined tilt to her posture, so he went along for the adventure.

A man came out from the house and walked to meet them. “What brings you out here, folks?”

Ash glanced around. “I didn’t know anybody still lived here.”

“Of course I live here. This is my ranch.” The white-haired farmer shrugged. “Been in my family for years.”

“Oh.” Ash looked concerned. “You didn’t sell this property?”

“Thought about it. Had a couple offers. One from a little old woman who lives across the canyons, and a bigger one from an older gentleman who rode in here one day and told me whatever the old lady paid, he’d pay more.”

“Was his name Wolf?” Falcon demanded.

“It was.” The farmer nodded. “In the end, I decided I didn’t want to leave my place. It’s been in my family for years,” he reminded them.

“I see,” Ash said. “We’re sorry to have bothered you.”

“No bother at all.” The rancher went off, his stooped body heading back toward the coolness of the adobe.

“Fiona told a whopper,” Ash stated. “It’s just like she did to our cousins. Got them married off, made sure there were lots of babies, then pow! So happily married they never battled for Rancho Diablo.”

He laughed. “Let’s not tell our brothers.”

“Why not?” Ash looked at him as they walked back to their horses.

“It’ll be fun to watch them work hard for something they’re not going to get.”

Ash mounted, waited for him. “I like the way you think. And now you can tell Taylor you don’t need her anymore. You’re a free man. There’s no ranch to win. No ranch, no wedding.”

He wasn’t about to do anything of the sort. “So you’re going to quit chasing Xav?”

“I don’t chase him,” Ash said. “And no, I’m not. Pretty sure he needs the exercise. But Taylor might just let you catch her. And you wouldn’t like that, Falcon. You know you aren’t the committing sort.”

They rode along in silence after that. Falcon tucked his hat down low on his brow, letting his horse follow Ash’s. It was true. He wasn’t the committing sort, and there was no prize. Fiona had set them up.

But Ash was wrong about one thing. He was certain he’d like Taylor letting him catch her. “I can keep a secret if you can.”

“I’m not telling a soul. I’m going to watch Tighe and Dante run away from their destiny, and watch our other brothers get hitched and have families. Watching Fiona spin her web is fun, now that I’m onto her.”

Falcon wasn’t sure they weren’t all caught in Fiona’s web already. He was. But he didn’t tell Ash, because Ash didn’t believe in destiny.

He did. He wanted a date with destiny.

Chapter Three

Falcon waited on Taylor as she got off work, his game plan in hand. “Hi, beautiful.”

Taylor stopped, turned to look at him. He leaned against his truck, giving her his best devil-may-care-and-be-damned smile. She studied him for a second, then walked over to him.

“What are you doing, Falcon? You look pleased with yourself, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

He laughed. “Ride with me.”

She raised a brow. “Why? And where?”

“Ride with me because I’m trying to bend Jillian’s rules. Where—that’s a surprise. A guy has to have some secrets. Then he’s in touch with his feminine side, right?”

Taylor shook her head, clearly considering the wisdom of taking off with him. Falcon gave her plenty of time to talk herself out of it. He knew she wouldn’t.

She might be taking Jillian’s advice, but this little lady liked him. He could feel it.

“Didn’t you agree not to date me?”

He smiled. “I said I wouldn’t ask you to marry me. Dating’s optional.”

“I see.” She considered that. “Where are you taking me?”

He reeled her in slowly. Taylor wasn’t the average girl who’d be satisfied with a regular evening of food and awkward chat. “Ghost-busting.”

She blinked. Hesitated.

He had her.

“Okay,” she said. “But I can’t be gone long. Maybe just an hour or two. I’m pretty sure we’re not operating in the spirit of Jillian’s challenge. You might be cheating.”

He opened the truck door for her. “Might be. We’ll see.”

“It doesn’t surprise me you’d bend the rules, to be honest, Falcon.”

“Good guys finish last, they say.” Sometimes that was true. Most times it wasn’t. He was a good guy who intended to finish first, just as he always had. He drove for about twenty minutes, then turned down a deserted, dark road toward the canyons.

Taylor peered out the window. “So what are we really doing? Ghost-busting doesn’t sound like your thing.”

He smiled. “One thing you should know about me is that I never lie. We truly are looking for ghosts.”

“There are no such things.”

“Oh, Taylor. We’re going to have to work on your appreciation for spirits.”

She sighed. “I hope I don’t regret doing this.”

“What’s life without a few regrets?” He stopped the truck several feet back from a narrow gorge he knew well. “Helps you appreciate life when you get it right.”

“Whatever, cowboy. Let’s go find this apparition of yours. It’s dark enough for one to appear.” She hopped out of the truck. “Not that I think you’re doing anything but dragging me out here because you didn’t want to go alone.”

“Is there anything wrong with wanting a woman’s touch on a ghost hunt? I heard paranormal phenomena are much more sensitive to a female presence. Or it could be that females just have better imaginations.” He laughed at the eye-roll she performed for his benefit.

“All that time you sat at the bar watching me I never would have dreamed you have the soul of a romantic. Or something. So what game are you really up to?”

He took her arm. “Walking my romantic soul. Giving it a chance to breathe.” Taking her in his arms, he kissed her on the lips, intending for it to be a quick one. But he found himself caught into lingering at the softness he encountered.

Kissing Taylor was so much more amazing than how he’d imagined it might feel that he didn’t want to stop.

He pulled himself away with effort as Taylor stepped back.

“Is your soul done breathing?” she asked.

“For the moment.” Falcon grinned, switched on a flashlight and pointed it on the ground. “Watch your step.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can stand the suspense,” Taylor said. “It’s well known in Diablo that you and your brothers and your sister, and all the Callahans, are pretty much one step from... Did you hear that?”

Falcon stopped beside her, swinging the flashlight toward the slight scuffling noise. “Probably just an owl.”

“Owls don’t land on the ground near people,” Taylor said. “It’s not really their desired activity.”

“Okay, Nancy Drew. I was just trying to keep you from being scared.”

“I’m not scared. I think you dragged me out here just to kiss me.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Stating a fact.”

“Fact noted.” Beneath the banter, Falcon’s radar was up. Taylor fell silent beside him, and he put a hand out to keep her near. He was packing a semi in his waistband so was prepared for anything, but the sound had been almost too deliberate to ignore.

It was like something was out there, following them. Years in the military had taught him caution, and he knew with sudden prescience that things weren’t right.

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“I was going to show you the top of a cliff,” Falcon said. “It’s a full moon, and on a night like this you can see sky for miles from atop that cliff. You can see—”

His words broke off. “Falcon?” Taylor didn’t move, her body suddenly tense. “Falcon?”

He’d been at her side a second ago, almost annoyingly overprotective. Now she couldn’t feel him. It was as if he’d disappeared. There was no sound except the slight soughing of wind through the canyons. The flashlight was on the ground, pointing its beam toward black nothingness. Taylor picked it up and switched it off. She stayed completely still, listening.

There were three obvious scenarios here. Taylor considered her options. One, Falcon had brought her out here on a lark to give her a good scare, so she’d jump into his arms when he “rescued” her.

Fat chance. She wasn’t falling for that.

Two, he’d stepped into a crevasse of some kind, which had happened around here. Caves abounded in this area, and it was possible he’d simply disappeared into some hole—or they were nearer a canyon than he’d realized. But she’d have heard noise if he’d rolled down a gorge.

She discarded that notion. If he’d fallen into something, they were both in trouble because he had his truck keys. And she had no idea where she was, so walking back was out of the question. No one knew where they were, so this could turn into a tricky situation.

Next scenario: someone or something had grabbed him. Again, entirely unlikely, as Taylor felt certain she’d have heard signs of a struggle. A man as big as Falcon couldn’t be easily dragged off in utter silence, and there would certainly be tracks.

Still, no matter what, she was in a less than desirable situation.

She could walk back to his truck and hope he hadn’t locked it. There’d been a rifle on the rack, and likely he had bullets close by. She was a proficient shot, so she’d at least be safe.

Taylor swung the flashlight around her one last time, peering at the ground, making certain she didn’t step into Falcon’s possible Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole—and that’s when she heard the definite sounds of all-out war.

She ran to the truck, grabbed the rifle, saw a box of ammo she gratefully snatched several bullets out of, and took off toward the ruckus. She tripped over something—probably an innocent rock—and forced herself to gather her wits enough to load ammo into the weapon. She crept forward, amazed when she spied Falcon fighting with an enormous man at the mouth of a cave, with two women acting as lookouts and one other male waiting to take a swing at Falcon.

Taylor took aim at the second man’s foot, squeezed off a shot. He screamed and clutched his foot, and the two women pulled guns, crouching. When the big man’s attention was caught by his friend’s distress, he hesitated, and Falcon smashed him into a wall. The man slumped to the ground.

She liked these odds better. Taylor came out of hiding and walked into the cave, pointing the rifle at the two women. “Falcon’s going to take your guns, ladies. I’m an excellent markswoman, so my best advice is for you to go sit back there, and take your bleeding friend with you.”

“I thought you’d never come,” Falcon said.

Taylor kept the rifle leveled at the two women, who headed off as she’d demanded. “You said we were ghost hunting. You didn’t say you were looking for trouble in the flesh.”

The big man on the ground began to revive, which seemed to encourage the man who’d removed his boot to stare at his bleeding foot. “You shot off my big toe,” he told Taylor. “You’ll be sorry.”

She shrugged. “You’ve got one big toe left for balance. Keep talking, and I’ll fix that.”

“She’s a tough one,” Falcon told the four glaring at them. “I could have told you that. At any rate, we’ll be going now. Would like to say it’s been a pleasure, Uncle Wolf, but as always, it really hasn’t.”

He dragged Taylor from the cave.

“They’re going to follow us,” she said, gasping as they ran.

“It’s okay. I’ve got some discouragement.” He fired a few rounds from a gun she hadn’t realized he was carrying, so Taylor concentrated on getting to the truck.

“Give me your keys,” Taylor said. “I’m driving.”

“I like a take-charge woman.” Falcon tossed her his keys and they jumped into the vehicle. Taylor shoved the key into the ignition, roared the engine to life and took off, praying no shots hit their tires or windows.

“This date didn’t turn out the way I’d planned,” Falcon said. “It’s usually a little more exciting.”

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Take me to the ranch,” Falcon said. “My family will fix me right up.”

She hit the main road, barreling toward Rancho Diablo. “Whatever you say.”

“You know you want to go out with me again.”

He was incorrigible. “Did I hear you call that man ‘uncle’?”

“Yeah. Uncle Wolf is the black sheep of the family. Don’t concern yourself with him. We don’t have to invite him to the wedding.”

She tried not to laugh out loud. Falcon was just so ridiculous. “I’m not marrying a man whose uncle tries to kill him.”

“Why not? We make a great team. Has it occurred to you that maybe you’re meant to be my guardian angel?”

Taylor pulled into the Callahan ranch, stopped the truck and looked at him. “You’re bleeding a bit more than your aunt Fiona is used to seeing, I’m sure. Have a towel in the truck?”