Relentless (Fallon Sisters Trilogy: Book #1) (20 page)

Bren glanced over at Rafe, tall and rugged—every bit the cowboy. "Is he asleep?"

Rafe angled his head to the side to see Finn's face. He nodded. "His eyes are closed."

"He's a chatterbox."

Rafe bent down to look at Finn again and smiled. "He's great. So if you're apologizing—don't."

"Nope. I think he's great, too."

"Something bothering you?" His dark brows furrowed over a pair of sharp green eyes.

He was getting too good at figuring her out, and she was lousy at hiding her feelings. They always came out in her expressions. "He likes you, too."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't want him getting too attached."

She had a sinking feeling this cowboy wouldn't remain in Clear Spring forever. And the really funny thing was it didn't matter who bought the other half of Grace if he did leave. She was more concerned about his departure from her boys' life—and hers.

Bren slowed her horse. "Whoa." They came up on the fence, and Aiden and Paddy hopped off their horses. With wire cutters, they began snipping at the wire and pulling it from the ground in places where it dug into the earth.

Rafe pulled up closer, his expression less strained. No doubt relieved she hadn't pushed the issue. He nodded toward her father-in-law. "So what's his story?"

"Paddy?"

"He's Tom's father, right?"

Bren's shoulders slumped. With all that had been going on in her life, she'd had little time to check on him. A pang of guilt surfaced. Again, Bren wrapped up in her own struggles. Yet when she had called him at three in the morning, there had never been any question that he would come.

"He took Tom's death hard. He was his only son."

"No other children?"

Remembering the story of how Tom came into the world, Bren shook her head sadly. "No. Tom was his only child."

"His. You make it sound like the man bore his son himself."

Bren gave him a sideways glance. "Now that is a ridiculous statement."

He laughed. "Just trying to understand all the players is all."

"Is all, huh?" She raised a curious brow. "Patrick and Pamela Ryan had one son. There were no more children because Pamela Ryan died in childbirth. Tom was all he had. He loved him, raised him, and mourned his son's passing. And like me, he'll never get over what happened to Tom."

Rafe's curious green eyes hardened, and for a moment, something... anger? The rough planes of his unshaven face tightened before he quickly turned away, burning a gaze into Paddy's back as her father-in-law, with the help of Aiden, cleared a path for them to enter.

The group moved forward, and Bren nudged Smiley, her companion still rooted behind her. She reined Smiley in and turned him about, positioning herself in front of Rafe. "Hey, cowboy." She lifted her face to him. His expression was more relaxed, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. She angled Smiley up so that she was next to Bart and squeezed Rafe's arm. "Hey, you okay?"

His nostrils flared when he took a deep breath. He turned and gave her a quick smile. "Just fine, darlin'. Nothing a little sleep won't cure." He nodded for her to go on.

Bren cleared the fence, and the tension in her shoulders subsided at the soft thud of hooves coming up behind her. Aiden and Paddy's horses were tied off on either side of the fence. The two stood back, prepared to mend it once Rafe cleared the opening.

By noon every horse had been checked by Jeremy. With limited space, the ones healthy enough were released to roam the pasture. Those under Jeremy's care were placed in stalls. Charts listing their condition and antibiotic schedule were attached to the stall doors, and by the end of the weekend, after half had been placed at nearby rescues, they'd be down to more manageable numbers.

Paddy slid up next to her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek while she tended to a bay, administering eye drops. "You did good, Missy." She smiled at the name. Only Paddy called her that—had called her that since she was a wild thing, of maybe five or six, running the pastures with Tom. The Fallons and Ryans had become good friends over the years, brought together fighting the same enemy they'd fought tonight—Wes.

Paddy's brown eyes, cloudy from age, brightened. He placed his John Deere baseball cap the boys had given him for Christmas over his silver crew cut. Unlike her father, he'd managed to keep most of his hair. "It's been awhile since I've been useful."

Bren gave him a tight hug. "Not true, old man. You've always been there for me and the boys."

He pulled away, grabbed his hanky from his pocket, and blew his nose, wiping his eyes in the process. "And how are the boys doing?" He nodded through the barn doors.

Rafe stood with Finn riding piggyback while Aiden tried to entice Roscoe to sniff out a stuffed animal they were going to hide for him to track. As far as bloodhounds went, Roscoe had the classic look. Maybe it was those sad, old eyes that got him more treats then he deserved. He certainly didn't deserve a treat at the moment, considering he was rolling on his back and ignoring Aiden's commands. Perhaps there was a reason the dog was a rescue.

Bren snickered. "Rafe's a fine judge of champion bloodhounds."

Paddy laughed. "Where'd you get him?"

"Washington County pound."

He laughed again. "No, the man, not the dog."

"Texas. Wants to raise dairy cows." Bren straightened. "One Holstein is all we need. Don't know how I feel about a herd."

"Daniel filled me in about how he came to own his house."

Bren shrugged. "We're adjusting."

Paddy nodded toward the threesome. "They like him."

Her boys missed their father. Having Rafe around filled the void. "Too much, I'm afraid."

Roscoe grabbed the stuffed animal. Aiden gave chase, hollering to bring it back. Rafe's long, lanky frame shook from laughter while Finn's arms tightened around his neck, hugging him.

"Don't let it worry you." Paddy grabbed her hand, tugging her forward. "Come on. Walk me out." They cleared the barn doors, and Rafe turned. A wide grin split his handsome face and then it faded.

Paddy stopped. "I don't think he likes me much."

"Rafe?"

Paddy scratched his head. "I tried to talk to him earlier. Tell him I appreciate all he's done."

"We're all tired. I wouldn't take it personally."

"Maybe." Paddy pulled on his lower lip. "There's a look about him."

"Funny. Dad said the same thing."

Paddy's eyes narrowed. "You said he's from Texas. Whereabouts?"

"Near Dallas, he said. The town starts with a W." She cocked her head.

"Why?"

Paddy shrugged. "No reason, except he
is
spending a lot of time with my grandsons—just curious."

Paddy kissed Bren on her cheek. "I'm taking this sixty-nine-year-old body home and taking a nap." He waved toward the threesome. "See y'all."

Finn slid down Rafe's back and ran toward them, hugging his grandfather. "You leaving, Paddy."

He tousled his blond head. "I'm tuckered out, bud."

Finn smiled up. "When will you be back?"

Paddy frowned at Bren.

Seeing Bren and the boys, she knew, only reminded Paddy what he didn't have—not what he still had. His expression merely confirmed that he, too, wrestled with the past, knowing full well he was letting the present pass by without a fight.

"Tell you what, Finn. How about we all get together next Saturday for dinner at my place? I'll make my homemade French fries you like so much with roast beef and gravy."

Finn pulled away, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "And your chocolate cake?"

Paddy glanced at Bren and grinned. "And my chocolate cake."

"Sweet," said Aiden as he ran up to the group, with Rafe's even gait closing in behind him. "Rafe invited, too?"

Bren stiffened. Aiden rarely thought of anyone but himself. Call it the curse of the teenager.

"Sure." Paddy clamped a hand on Aiden's shoulder. "I've got room for six."

Rafe said nothing as they said their good-byes to Paddy, except to pull Bren aside. "When you're done, I need to talk to you in the barn." He glanced at Paddy and the boys, then back to her. "Alone."

She eyed those fingers tightening on her arm, the strength with which he held her to that spot a little too much command and control. "Your manners suck, Mr. Langston," she whispered through clenched teeth and pulled her arm from his grip. "We'll talk, once I get the boys settled."

He strode away scowling and mumbling.

What the hell was his problem? They were all tired. If that was his complaint, he needed to mind his own business and go home.

Bren escorted her sons inside the house. "Head to the kitchen. Granddaddy's got your breakfast." Her stomach growled when they neared the open doorway of the kitchen. Her father, who had taken over the duties as cook, had come in before everyone else to make breakfast. As much as she wanted to sit down with a cup of hot tea and devour the bacon-and-egg sandwich resting on her plate, she pressed into her lower stomach to stop the gurgling. "Save some for me and Rafe."

Her father shot her a look. "You're not eating?"

"I'll be back." She kissed his rosy cheek, more from the warmth of the kitchen than irritation. "Just keep it warm. I have one more thing to take care of."

She pinned a smile on her face and walked out the kitchen and through the front door. Oh, she had one more thing to take care of. More like an attitude adjustment. She entered the barn. "Rafe."

Before her eyes could focus, a firm hand pulled her. Stumbling, she fell back against the wall inside the barn. Long fingers, rough with calluses, brushed her cheek, and her heart, beating a frantic pace, began to slow down. "You scared the shit out of me."

"What took you so long?" His voice matched his demanding green eyes, and she got mad. If it had taken her more than five minutes, she'd be surprised

She pushed against him.

He fell back a step but kept his grip on her arm.

"Why are you such an ass?" she demanded.

"I'm tired, that's all. And I'm not going to get any sleep in the near future."

Bren crossed her arms. "Go to bed. No one's stopping you."

"Is there somewhere we can sit down? Before I fall down." Light from the window high above in the eave of the roof slanted over his face. Fine lines edged the corners of his eyes. Bren realized that they both were tired, too tired to argue.

She motioned toward a door. "There's a small office here." She waved him through and followed.

He took a seat and placed his dusty cowboy boots on the old Formica desk, crossing his feet. Bren perched herself on the top of the desk and braced her hands on the edge. "Let's make this quick. Dad's got breakfast waiting."

"I won't have time to eat. There's been an issue at the ranch that's come up, and I need to tend to it."

"What issue?" Bren leaned in.

"It's nothing."

Bren tightened her grip on the desk and then hopped off. "Have a nice trip." She headed for the door and stopped dead when Rafe pulled her back and onto his lap.

"You're a pain in the ass."

Bren pushed against his chest. Broad and thick with muscle, she gave up trying to free herself. "Let me up."

"Not until you calm down and tell me why you're acting like a spoiled brat."

"You're a jerk."

He laughed at her. "Why is that?"

"We're supposed to be friends."

"We are."

"I've told you all there is to know about me. I know nothing about you, except the bare bones."

He sobered at that. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd—"

"You thought wrong." She crossed her arms and pinned him with her eyes. "I want to know."

Rafe's hold relaxed. "My daddy, Sawyer Langston, takes his title of rancher to extremes. My mama, her name is Laura, called while you were with Jeremy. Early this morning, Texas time, he was thrown off a colt he's been breaking."

Bren pushed against Rafe to sit up straight. "Is he all right?"

"Broken leg." Rafe shook his head. "At his age, he should have given up the title 'cowboy' long ago. But he's a hard-ass."

Bren smiled. "Apples don't—"

He shook her playfully. "Don't even say it."

"When do you leave?"

"As soon as I can pack a duffel bag. My flight leaves at five tonight."

Bren made a move to get off his lap, but his arms tightened around her. "I'm not done with you. I don't like the idea of leaving. Not now after you've stirred Wes up. I only plan on making sure he's okay and reassuring my mother. She doesn't handle adversity well."

"Rafe." She cupped his rough cheek with her hand. "They're your family."

He turned his face and pressed his firm, dry lips into her palm and kissed it. That made her tingle inside, and she pulled her hand away and slipped off his lap. Grabbing his hand, she directed him up and gave him a good solid push toward the door. If his hesitancy to make the trip stemmed from concern about her safety, he didn't need to worry.

"I'll be fine until you get back. Besides, I've got my dad and the boys to protect me from Wes."

He pulled her to him, and she braced her hands on his shoulders. His arms wrapped around her, long fingers pressing into her lower back. He bent his head, his eyes closed, and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was tentative. After last night—no surprise. When she didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over her teeth, caressing the inside of her mouth.

Bren dug her fingers in the back of his scalp, the natural curl of his dark locks wrapped around her fingers. The tingle he'd created deep inside her became more of an ache, and she moaned into his mouth.

He pulled away and gave her a quick kiss. "You're beautiful."

Bren left to gape at his quick retreat, took in the gleam of his green eyes and immediately became leery. She pushed him away. "What are you not telling me?"

"I asked the sheriff to check in on you while I'm gone."

"You told Kevin?" She eyed him provokingly.

"Relax, Red." He leaned casually into the doorjamb. "I only pointed out the threat Wes made earlier."

Bren rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised Kevin agreed. He thinks Wes is all talk—no action."