The Bull Rider's Twins Page 2

  Burke looked over her shoulder, peering at the invite. “Uh-oh,” he said, and Fiona nodded.

  “Who’s getting strung?” he asked, feeling cheerful that it wasn’t him. Some other poor sack was getting the marital ball and chain, but it wasn’t him. Pity the fool who falls into the clutches of a beautiful woman, he thought, as his aunt handed him the invitation silently.

  “‘Ms. Mavis Cameron Night requests the honor of your presence at the wedding of her daughter, Darla Cameron, to Dr. Sidney Tunstall, on June 30,’” he read out loud, his breath going short and his heart practically stopping. His gaze shot to Fiona’s. “Didn’t you know about this? She’s one of your best friends.”

  “Mavis didn’t say a word to me,” his aunt exclaimed. “I can’t understand why. And the wedding is in a few days, which I also can’t understand. What’s the rush?”

  She studied the invitation for another moment, then lifted her gaze to his again. Oh, but she needn’t have worn such a worried expression. He had a good idea why a woman might marry so quickly—Darla was pregnant.

  The thought burned his gut.

  “Oh, dear,” Aunt Fiona said, her eyes huge.

  Judah shoved back his chair.

  “Shall I say all the family will be in attendance?” she asked, and he yelled over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t miss it,” as he dashed out into the hot dry wind. Darla hadn’t wanted any emotional connection between them. And he, spare Romeo that he was, had fallen into her arms and dreamed of a future.

  He was a fool. But not a fool on his way to the altar, and there was something to be said for that.

  Still, Judah wondered if he heard an empty echo in his bravado. And his broken heart drove him onto the range, riding hell-bent to nowhere.

  AN HOUR LATER, Judah was positive he saw the mystical Diablos down in a canyon, well past the working oil derricks and the fenced cattle land. Legend said that the wild horses ran free on Rancho Diablo, and no one could get close to them because they were spirits. They were also a portent of something magical to come. The Callahans didn’t see the herd of horses often, but when they did, they respected the moment.

  They were not spirit horses, as far as Judah was concerned. He could see them drinking from a small stream that threaded through the dust-painted canyon, though his eyes blurred in the bright sunlight. Nearby, a large cactus offered a little shade, but Judah ignored it, easing back in the saddle to watch the horses. Their untamed beauty called to his own wild side.

  They turned as one and floated deeper into the canyon. Judah followed, watching for snakes, hawks and other critters. He and his brothers had explored this canyon many times, knew all its secrets.

  His horse went to the thin stream, too. Judah slid from the saddle and took a long drink from the pale water. When he looked up, he saw a rock shelf he didn’t remember.

  Closer inspection showed the opening to a cave so hidden from the main canyon path that he would never have seen it if he hadn’t bent down to drink. Cautiously, he went inside, his gun drawn in case of wild creatures he might startle.

  But the cave was empty now—clearly some kind of once-used mine. Judah went past a rough shaft and a basic pulley and cart.

  He’d found the legendary silver mine.

  But it wasn’t much of one, and appeared to have been long deserted. This couldn’t be why Bode was so determined to get Rancho Diablo land—unless he thought there was more silver to be discovered. Still, what difference could silver mean to the wealthy man? And even if the Callahans were forced to sell Rancho Diablo, they would make certain they retained the mineral rights.

  A loomed rug lay on the cave floor, hidden from casual visitors. There was also evidence of footprints, visible in the fading light that filtered into the cave. Still deeper, what seemed to be a message in some cryptic language was written on the wall, and it looked fresh. He touched the letters, smearing them a little. Underneath, silver coins and a few silver bars were stacked on a flat rock, like an offering.

  Judah realized he’d stumbled on a smuggling operation, or perhaps a thruway for travelers who shouldn’t be using Rancho Diablo land.

  He left the cave, grabbed his horse’s reins and swung into the saddle to ride in the opposite direction the Diablos had taken, as he wondered who might be using Callahan land and why.

  For the moment, he would say nothing, he decided—until he understood more about why he’d been led to this place.

  THE NEXT DAY, Judah realized drastic steps would have to be taken. The whole town of Diablo, it seemed, was atwitter over Darla’s impending marriage. No detail was too small to be hashed over—the bridal gown she’d bought from the store she co-owned with Jackie Samuels Callahan, Pete’s wife; the diamante-covered shoes she’d purchased. She’d scheduled an appointment for her hair, which had been dutifully reported. It would be worn long, crowned with an illusion veil that had orange blossoms cascading at the hem, which would just touch her shoulders.

  Judah was sick to death of details. He wouldn’t know an orange blossom if it grew out of his boot.

  Strangely, the bride had not been seen since her invitations were mailed. Nor had the groom, though he was expected in town any day now. Judah knew him. Sidney Tunstall was a popular rodeo doctor and a one-time bronc buster, a man with a spine like a spring, who seemed to be kissed by good fortune. He was also wealthy. And he’d been after Darla for some time, if scuttlebutt was to be believed. Tall and lean and focused, the doctor seemed like a guy who loved what he did and did it well.

  Which pretty much stank, but that was how it went. A man could lose to a better rival if he had slow-moving feet, and Judah reckoned his feet had been slower than most.

  He flung himself inside the bunkhouse, anxious to sit alone in front of the fireplace to gather his thoughts.

  It wasn’t to be. Jonas was like a hulking rock in the den, taking up space with Sam and Rafe. And they’d been talking about him, Judah realized, by the way they shut their yaps the instant he entered.

  “What’s up?” he asked, eyeing them. “Don’t stop talking about me just because I’m here.”

  “All right,” Sam said. “Are you going to the wedding?”

  The wedding. As if it was the only wedding in Diablo.

  Actually, he hadn’t heard of any other Diablo weddings lately, and if there’d been some, Fiona would definitely have been keeping the scoreboard updated for everyone, particularly him and his brothers. He sighed. “I might. Then again, I mightn’t.”

  Jonas shrugged. “Let us know if you need anything.”

  “Yeah,” Rafe said, “short of a shot of pride.”

  Judah blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Sam gazed at him. “Look, bro. It’s not like we haven’t known forever that you’ve been carrying an inextinguishable torch for Darla Cameron. What we can’t figure out is why you’re letting her waltz off with another man.”

  “Maybe that’s not how I see it,” Judah said, “and maybe it’s none of your business, anyway.”

  Jonas leaned back. “We could be wrong. Maybe you haven’t always been in love with her.”

  “Darla and I are friends. That’s it.”

  Sam sniffed. “As long as you’re cool with it, we are, too. We support you, whatever you decide. I mean, if you get an itch to crawl through her bedroom window, we’ll hold the ladder for you.”

  “No ladders will be necessary.” Judah tried not to think about the few moments he’d held Darla in his arms. “She’s chosen her man, and—”

  “Ah-ha!” Rafe exclaimed. “You admit she didn’t choose you!”

  “She didn’t choose any of you, either. It’s not a special situation,” Judah said, feeling cranky.

  “So you admit you were in a position to be chosen,” Sam said, sounding like the lawyer he was. “You were a candidate, if a slightly lazy one. But there’s still time to present your case. Females change their minds like the wind. And ladies love it when a last-minute challenger shows up to
yodel his heartstrings under ye olde bedroom window. I say go for it. Yodel away. You can borrow my guitar.”

  “Darla’s doing just fine,” Judah said. “Everything is in the works. She’s got her shoes, her flowers and no doubt something blue.”

  “The really blue thing at that wedding is going to be you,” Jonas said, “if you don’t get up off your duff and speak before the forever-hold-your-peace.”

  There was no use. He was going to be harried to death by the people who should have supported his wish to be a silent sufferer. And this was light treatment, Judah realized, compared to what he’d probably be treated to in town, and especially at the wedding. Pitying looks, questioning gazes—

  “What about the baby?” Sam asked. “What if it’s yours?”

  Judah frowned, aware of a sudden urge to stuff a fist in Sam’s mouth. “What baby?”

  Rafe studied him. “You know Darla is pregnant.”

  “Is that known?” Judah asked, his heart beating hard. “Or is it gossip based on her apparently whirlwind marriage?”

  “She was seen buying a pregnancy test a while ago,” Jonas said with a shrug. “This is a small town, and though she sent a friend in to purchase it, the bag made a clear exchange, which was duly noted by several people.”

  “Who were spying like old-time geezers,” Judah said, not happy to hear confirmation of his own suspicions. “It doesn’t mean she’s pregnant. It could have been a negative test. She could have been giving it to Jackie, for all you know. And,” he said, finishing with a flourish, “there’s every possibility she’s getting married because she wants to, and is in love, and the lure of owning her own bridal shop finally got to her. If you owned a machine shop, wouldn’t it kill you if you could never use the tools?”

  “Boy, are you caging your inner lion,” Rafe said. “Hey, we’ve got your back, bro. We know how to shine the old badge of pride. No one will ever get from us how you got left in the dust.” He shook his head, more sympathetic than Judah could stand.

  “That’s it,” he said. “I’ve just seen a flash of my future, and I’m taking a rain check on it. The only way to get away from you bunch of know-it-alls is to disappear on you.” Judah waved an expansive arm. “With no forwarding address. Don’t even try to find me. Consider me gone with the wind, in order to save the dregs of my life.” He crammed his hat on his head and turned to depart, with one last thought making him swing back around to his brothers, who watched him with open curiosity.

  “And you can tell everybody in Diablo that my heart was not broken, thank you very much. You can tell them that rodeo was always my only love, and is to this day.” He made a grandiose exit, proud of himself for the charade he’d perpetrated.

  No one would ever know he was lying like a rug.

  His brothers looked at each other after Judah left.

  “Are we going to tell him that the boxes of condoms we all received at Creed’s bachelor party were gag gifts? Creed’s parting wish that we’d all get hung by our own family jewels?” Sam asked. “It’s possible Judah didn’t get the joke.”

  “I think we leave it alone,” Jonas said. “Judah doesn’t seem to want to consider that the child Darla might be carrying is his.”

  Rafe nodded. “If she is four months pregnant, as we hear she is, and the birth coincides with Creed and Aberdeen’s wedding night, then it may be obvious.”

  “Why wouldn’t Darla tell Judah?” Sam’s forehead wrinkled. “That’s the only thing that’s not making sense. Wouldn’t she just say, hey, that night of passion resulted in some passion fruit?”

  “They’ve been running away from each other for so long, admitting that she’s pregnant by Judah is the last thing Darla would do. He never acts as if he likes her, much less loves her. Ladies do not dig the strong, silent type when they need some reassurance, and Judah’s been playing the role of Macho Man with gusto,” Jonas said. “What woman wants a man if she thinks he doesn’t love her?”

  “Anyway, we’re in way over our heads here,” Rafe said. “We could have this all wrong. Maybe they never did the deed that night. Maybe Creed never saw them go off together. Darla could be pregnant by the bronc buster doctor, not that anyone ever mentioned them dating. It’s not like we can ask her, because she’s not even telling anyone she’s in a family way. Rumors may be flying, but no one’s going to mention them to the blushing bride.”

  They thought about the problem some more, then Jonas shrugged. “We’ll know by November, I guess.”

  “Or not,” Sam said. “She may choose to never reveal the real father.”

  “And Judah loses out on being a dad,” Rafe mused. “Which would really be a loss, because he’d probably make a decent one. I mean, if Creed and Pete can do it, why not Judah?”

  But there was nothing they could do about it. Darla was getting married, and Judah was gone, and neither one of them seemed to care that true love was being held captive by stubborn hearts.

  “I hope I’m not that dumb when a beautiful woman loves me,” Sam said with a sigh, and both his brothers immediately said, “You will be.”

  “But not as dumb as Judah,” Sam muttered to himself, listening to Judah’s truck roar away.

  “I say it’s time we engage Aunt Fiona,” Jonas suggested, and his brothers nodded. “This situation could be dire.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Sam said, “but Judah certainly isn’t going to do anything to save himself.”

  Chapter Two

  Rafe, Sam and Jonas went to the kitchen to find Fiona. As a rule, she or Burke could be found there, or nearby, at least. It was nearly the dinner hour, a very odd time for Judah to decide to depart, which just showed that even an empty stomach hadn’t deterred his boneheadedness.

  The kitchen was empty. The scents of wondrous culinary delights (Fiona could cook like no other, and Burke was no slouch in their shared gastronomic hobby) were absent. Rafe felt his stomach rumble and figured this might be an unannounced catch-as-catch-can night. They had those at Rancho Diablo, though rarely. Usually on the nights their fearless aunt had bingo or her book reading club or a church group, she cut them loose. But at least a pie would be left on the kitchen counter, with a note on the Today’s Meal chalkboard that read something to the effect of “Tough Luck! You’re Stuck!”

  Tonight, all that was on the counter was a single bar of something silver. Rafe, Jonas and Sam crowded around it, perplexed.

  “That’s not cherry pie,” Sam said.

  “It’s mined silver,” Jonas said. “Mined and pressed into a bar. See the .925 on it?”

  Rafe blinked. “Why would Fiona leave us a bar of silver?”

  “All those years people have whispered about there being a silver mine on our land suddenly comes to mind,” Sam said, his voice hushed.

  Rafe’s gaze went back to the bar. “We’ve been over every inch of Rancho Diablo. There’s no way.”

  “I don’t know,” Jonas said. “Why else would Aunt Fiona have a silver bar?”

  “Because she’s putting it in her stock portfolio,” Sam said. “She bought some through a television advertisement, or a jeweler, to diversify her nest egg. It’s not sound to leave all one’s investments in the stock market or the national currency. She’s just taken physical possession of some of her holdings, I would guess.”

  “But what if it’s not part of her nest egg?” Rafe asked. “What if there really is a silver mine on Rancho Diablo? That would explain why Bode Jenkins is so hot to get this place.”

  They heard Burke whistling upstairs, and the chirping sound of Fiona’s voice.

  “Quick,” Jonas said. “Outside.”

  They hustled out like furtive thieves. Rafe closed the door carefully behind him. His brothers had already skedaddled down the white graveled drive toward the barns.

  Rafe hurried after them. “Why don’t we ask her what it is? What if there is silver on the ranch? What if Bode is sniffing around for it?”

  “Then she probably wouldn’t have left proof of
its existence lying out on the kitchen counter,” Sam said. “By now, Bode’s had this place satellite mapped, I’m sure. He’s had the geographic and mineral composition of the land gone over. If there was silver around here, he would know before we would.”

  “All I’m suggesting,” Rafe said, “is that maybe it’s time we quit being so worried about offending Fiona. That we just ask her.”

  His brothers stopped, gave him a long eyeballing. Rafe shrugged. “I mean, what the hell?” he asked. “If we have a silver mine, hurrah for us. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “If there’s a silver mine, and Fiona’s been putting away dividends all these years, I don’t want to know.” Jonas shrugged. “Look, I love Fiona. I don’t give a damn if there’s solid gold under this ranch from corner to corner, and she plans to ferret all of it off like a conquistador. I really don’t care. So I’m not asking.”

  Jonas had a point. Rafe didn’t want to hurt Fiona’s feelings, either. She’d given up a pretty decent life in Ireland to come take care of them, which couldn’t have been easy. They had not been a snap to raise. “All right,” Rafe said, “by now she’s probably hidden the damn thing. So can we go back now, act like we didn’t see it and go over the Judah problem with her? I’m pretty certain we need a guiding hand here.”

  They went back to the house, and this time, Jonas banged on the kitchen door.

  Fiona flung it open. “For heaven’s sake. Can’t you open a door by yourselves? Three big strong men can’t figure out how to use the key?” She glanced at the doorknob. “The door isn’t locked. Why are you knocking, like this isn’t your house?”

  They stared at their tiny aunt. Her eyes were kind, her voice teasing, but she seemed truly mystified. Rafe swallowed. “Aunt Fiona, we wonder if you have a moment so we might pick your brain?”

  “So you’re standing on the porch? You won’t pick it out there. When you’re ready, come inside.”