The Bull Rider's Twins (8 page)

But here they were, bound together. She placed a hand on her belly.

Her babies' father was sleeping blissfully, unconcerned that he did not love their mother. But he would do his duty, just like any of the Callahans would.

There was only one option that would solve their dilemma.

She put the letter in an envelope, decided to leave it on the kitchen counter where Judah would easily find it. She laid his beautiful ring beside the letter. The diamond caught the light from the overhead hanging fixture, sending prisms dancing over the counter. Her breath caught just looking at it. A princess would wear such a lovely ring.

She was not a princess. She was an unwed mother with a scoundrel for a one-night-stand daddy. “Oh, boy,” she murmured, and closed her eyes for a moment. Did she really want to be married only until the children were born? It sounded so prenup, so planned.

At least she was giving him the freedom to leave. And for the sake of her pride, she had to know that he had an escape hatch built in to their agreement. She felt tears pool behind her eyes, told herself she'd spent far too much time staring at dreamy white gowns. She'd gone from a no-nonsense nurse to a woman who dreamed fairy-tale dreams—and it hurt.

Strong arms closed around her, making her jump. Warm lips pressed to the back of her neck, sending sizzles zipping along her skin.

“Is that a Dear John letter you're leaving me?” Judah asked against her nape, and Darla closed her eyes.

“Not exactly.” His hard body pressed against her and her knees went weak. “Please tell me you're wearing something.”

He kissed the side of her neck. “I think you'd be very disappointed if I was wearing clothes, Darla. You don't have to pretend you're a straight-laced nurse who'll read me the riot act for making a pass at you. Although if I was one of your patients, I definitely would have tried—”

“Judah,” Darla said, unable to think about where he was going with that while he was driving her out of her mind with kisses. “I could have a better conversation with you if you weren't nude.”

“I don't want to chitchat, doll. I want to hold you and make you scream like a wildcat. Which I know you can do very well.” He nipped her shoulder lightly, then ran a tongue over the spot he'd bitten. “The question is, are Dear John letters supposed to be written on pink stationary with a purple pen? It seems to send a romantic signal, dressing it up like that. Black and white would be a lot more impersonal for bad news, I would think. But I wouldn't know,” he added, his voice husky. “I have to admit no lady of my acquaintance has ever tried to write me off.”

“I'm sure.” Darla didn't dare turn around. He was rascal enough to not have a stitch on, and she didn't want to see his
firm, well-muscled body. She wasn't strong enough to deny herself a naked Judah whose body was carved by a master sculptor.

“Where's the good doc?” he asked, his breath warm against her neck, tickling the tiny hairs at her nape. “Not trusting me alone with the treasure, is he?”

“Judah, I'm not treasure. And yes, Sidney would trust me. Totally.”

“I guess he was trusting you when you sneaked into my room that night?”

She swallowed. “Sidney…Sidney and I aren't getting married anymore. So quit bothering me about him. And please put something on! And leave. I want you to leave.”

He took the envelope from her fingers. “Is that what this says? Go away, big bad wolf, and never come back?”

She didn't nod, because she hadn't written anything of the sort. Now she felt foolish for what she had written. Why hadn't she realized how unwise it was to try to bargain with a devil? She tried to snatch the envelope away from him, but Judah eluded her easily.

“Ah,” he said, running the envelope down her back so it rasped along her zipper, “you don't want me to read something that has my name on it? I find that strange, Darla Cameron. And one thing you usually aren't is strange.”

“Judah, there is a robe in my closet. If you'll at least put on a robe, we can have an adult conversation.”

“Now, my love,” he said, kissing the shell of her ear, “being an adult is one thing no one's ever accused me of. Besides, I like your backside so much. I remember it fondly.”

She closed her eyes, wishing she wasn't pressed against the kitchen counter. He'd teased her enough, she decided. She was going to turn around, was going to face this strong, naked man and tell him she'd changed her mind. She just wanted her letter back, and to give up her unwise attempt at taming this lion.

She was melting, knowing full well what wonderful pleasures lay in store for her if she just gave in. She couldn't.

Whirling around, she kept her eyes forcefully averted from the masculine glory. “Judah, give me back that envelope right now.” Her gaze ran the length of him in astonishment. “You're not naked! You're fully dressed!”

“Disappointed?” he asked, grinning as he stole a kiss. “Sorry about that, babe, but I've got to go. Duty calls back at the ranch. Sleep well.” He waved the envelope at her before tucking it in his shirt pocket. “I'll save this for my nightly bedtime reading. I'm sure it'll prove to be interesting, even fascinating. I never expected a letter from my lady.” He winked at her, so devil-may-care it was maddening.

“I want it back!”

“Ah, no. I bid you good night. I would stay, sugar, but at this hour, I'm afraid I only have one thing on my mind. And I'm sure you know what that is.” He stole another kiss and departed, leaving Darla lathered up and pink-cheeked.

She spun around and saw that the ring was still there, sparkling on the counter. He knew she wanted it. He knew it tempted her. He knew
he
tempted her.

In fact, she was drowning in temptation.

There was nothing she wanted to do more than run after him and beg him to come back, spend the night with her, make love to her. He probably knew that about her, too. He'd so shamelessly teased her about his nudity, making her think about him naked, making her remember. Oh, he was baiting her, and it was working.

She didn't know how she was going to sleep tonight.

“W
ELL
,
IF IT ISN'T
Roughriding Romeo,” Sam said when Judah dragged himself into the bunkhouse well after midnight. “Mr. Danger himself.”

“Glad you made it home, bro. I figured you would.” Judah hung his hat on the hook in the mudroom and looked at his brothers in front of the fireplace. Jonas, Rafe and Sam stared at him with raised brows and expectant expressions.

“So, did you find any danger?” Sam asked.

“Nope,” Judah said, “nothing but lambs and cotton candy in my world.”

“What's that pink thing poking out of your shirt?” Jonas asked.

“This,” Judah said proudly, “is my first Dear John letter.”

“Nothing to brag about there,” Rafe said. “You weren't even a ‘dear' as far as Darla was concerned in the first place. So if she's writing you off, you're going backward, bro.”

“This Dear John letter means,” Judah said, running it under his nose to smell the scent of Darla's perfume, “that she cares about me enough to try to run me off. She's fighting it, brothers, every step of the way. And that's the way I like my lady.”

“Reluctant? Distant? Icy, even?” Sam said. “You always were the peculiar one of us.”

“Darla's none of the above.” Judah threw himself on the sofa lengthwise, cradling his head on a sofa pillow. “She's fighting herself. And she's losing.”

“You can tell all that without even opening the letter? Maybe you've picked up some of Sabrina's psychic skills. But I advise you to read it before you go crowing about how hot your runaway bride is for you,” Jonas said.

“She won't run from our wedding, that's for sure. She'll be too practical for that. I'm a catch.” Judah shrugged and tore open the envelope to hoots from his brothers, pulling out the letter to read it. “This is better news than I'd hoped, even,” he murmured. “She's given the skinny bronc buster the wave-off.”

“Really?” Sam perked up. “He's cleared the field for you?”

“And she's planning on marrying me in two days. I told
you!” Judah looked up at his brothers in triumph. “I hope I still fit in my tux.”

“Dummy,” Rafe said. “Sidney wasn't going to wear a tux. Why should you?”

“Why not? It's a special occasion. It calls for a tux.” Judah was pretty certain that in spite of her protestations to the contrary, he and Darla would be married forever. He planned to make rock-solid vows in two days, and no way was he ever letting her give him the slip like she'd given Tunstall. Oh, she might think that was what she wanted, and certainly he would agree to her darling little last-ditch attempt to keep herself from falling head over heels in love with him. But this agreement she wanted bought him time. And he could do a whole lot of convincing in four or five months. Judah squinted at the ceiling. “Which one of you dunces wants to be my best man?”

“I'm not feeling it,” Jonas said. “Something tells me nothing good can come of marrying a woman who's Miss Reluctant.”

“I'm telling you she wants me. Read it for yourself.” He handed the letter to Jonas, who snatched it and read it before passing it to his brothers. They all looked at him with worried expressions. Judah shrugged at their hangdog faces. “Don't worry. She's crazy about me.”

Rafe sighed. “If I have to, I'll be the sacrificial lamb who stands next to you at the altar while you sign on to get burned a few months hence. But it doesn't feel like happy ever after to me.”

“Thanks, tough guy.” Judah closed his eyes, annoyed. He waved the letter in the air again. “This is my ticket, my golden chance, my checkmate, if you will. I win.”

“We see,” Sam said. “We see that you're nuts. Darla's telling you up front she has every intention of marrying you so her babies will have a name. Then she's divorcing you, dude.”

“So? I'd rather her marriage-of-convenience be with me than with Sidney. That puts me in her bed, and therefore, in medal contention.”

“You think of everything in terms of winning or losing,” Sam said. “I don't know if that's healthy.”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, “what if Darla gives you the boot, as per this agreement? Don't you have to be a gentleman and honor that? Or else it's not valid. She doesn't have to say yes until you agree.”

Judah shrugged. “Just be ready in two days to toss bird-seed, bros. That's your only job.”

His brothers grimaced, then went back to what they'd been doing, which looked to be high-stakes, boring Scrabble. Judah smiled to himself. They had no idea that he had everything completely under control. And they could keep their bachelor jealousy to themselves. He was going to be in contention for Fiona's ranch-o-rama, and they weren't.

Darla was going to be Mrs. Callahan, and he was going to be the hero with strong boys who'd ride rodeo just like him. A bull rider and his bundles of joy—how great was that? He knew all about what Darla wanted, and what the practical side of her wanted was a fab dad. Once she saw how great he was with the little lads, she'd never want to let him go.

Just two days.

It seemed like forever.

“I'm worried about Judah,” Jonas said, after Judah had conked out. “He thinks he's got this all planned down to a script, but I think the situation's more explosive than he realizes.” Jonas squinted at the Scrabble board, considering his options.

Rafe nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Still,” Sam said, “it's his business if he wants to get burned like an onion on a grill. We can't save him from being stupid.”

“The problem,” Jonas said, glancing over at the peacefully snoring Judah, “is that he believes he can convince Darla that she loves him. The two of them have lived in the same town almost all their lives, and never even played doctor with each other.”

Rafe and Sam blinked at him. “Doctor?” Sam said.

“Yeah.” Jonas grimaced. “You know. Doctor.”

Rafe considered that. “I've never played doctor with any of the girls in this town. Spin the bottle, maybe. Pin the tail on the donkey, definitely.” He frowned at Jonas. “You don't strike me as the type to play doctor, Jonas.”

Sam snickered. “I played doctor. I also got slapped. Ah, good times.” He looked at Jonas. “Is that why you became a doctor, because you liked playing it so much?”

“No,” Jonas said, “I became a doctor because I'm smart, and I like helping people. I like puzzles.”

“It had nothing to do with beautiful nurses,” Rafe said. “Good thing, too, or that would have been a waste of your time, considering you've never brought a beautiful nurse home. Or any nurse.”

Jonas sighed. “All I was trying to say is that Judah and Darla never had the hots for each other before. So why get married?” He glared at his brothers. “There, was that plain enough for you boobs?”

“Plain enough for me,” Rafe said. “I don't think we can save him, though. He's on a mission to marry.”

“I think we should test that mission,” Jonas said, “to make certain true love exists. After all, it's easier to call off a wedding than to get a divorce later on. Some people have marital counseling, you know, to help them decide if they're on a successful path with their chosen—”

“Bah,” Sam said. “I say let him fall on his face.”

Jonas looked at Rafe. “That leaves you the deciding vote.”

Rafe appeared troubled. “I see your point about saving pain for him and for Darla and for the children later by not putting them through a divorce. I also see Sam's point about it being Judah's business what he does. How exactly do you plan to test this marriage-of-convenience adventure?”

“Simple,” Jonas said. “We tell Judah we think he's making a mistake. We just be honest. Nothing underhanded, just plain old honesty.”

Rafe shook his head. “I don't want to be punched, thank you.”

“Me, neither,” Sam said. “I'm the brains of this outfit, you know. I'm trying to save us from Bode. Since it's your idea, it should probably be you, Jonas. You are eldest, after all.”

“And I'm the surgeon,” Jonas said, “who will stitch Rafe up when he busts his lip on Judah's knuckles.”

Rafe shrugged. “Anyway, I still say the deciding factor is it's his life. The truth is, those babies do need a name. And it
is all Creed's fault that a Callahan got Darla into this mess, so a Callahan should bail her out.”

Sam and Jonas looked at him. Then they looked at Judah, who was snoring, his chin practically pointing toward the ceiling.

“He really isn't much of a catch,” Rafe said. “I guess if all Darla needs is a name for her children, I can do the marriage-of-convenience thing as well as anybody. If it would save Darla from making a disastrous mistake.”

“You mean Judah,” Sam said.

“I mean Darla,” Rafe retorted. “He really isn't much of a catch, like I said.”

They sat silently, mulling over the situation. Then Jonas leaned over, kicked at Judah's leg with his boot. Judah's eyes snapped open.

“What?” he said. “Are you losers still playing Scrabble? Don't you know how to spell a word longer than three letters?”

“Rafe has something to tell you,” Jonas said.

Rafe looked miserable. “We think marrying in haste means repenting in leisure.”

“Whatever.” Judah moved his hat down over his eyes and shifted to a more comfortable position on the leather couch.

“We think,” Rafe said, trying again bravely, “that marriage isn't your style. You're more of a drifter.”

“No, I'm not,” Judah said from under the hat. “I'm a pragmatic romantic.”

They went dead silent for a moment. He grinned, but the felt of his Stetson covering his face kept them from knowing he was laughing at them. They thought they were being so Fiona, but they weren't. No one could plot like Fiona, and Judah had learned at her knee.

“I'm going to tell Darla I'm willing to marry her so her babies will have a name,” Rafe said.

Judah rolled his eyes. “You do that.”

Silence met his pronouncement. Judah snickered. His brothers were always trying to help, though not successfully, and he had to admire their ham-handed ways.

“You don't mind?” Rafe asked, sounding a little less sure of himself.

“Nope,” Judah said. “Have at it.”

“I vote we resume this game later,” Jonas said, and Sam said, “A fine idea, since Rafe has to be somewhere.”

Sam said it importantly, as if Rafe was about to run right over and pop the question to Darla.
These goofballs,
Judah thought.
I don't know what they're up to, but Darla would never want to marry anyone but me. She wants me bad.

“Okay,” Rafe said, “see you later.”

The door opened, and Judah heard boots moving out the door. “Called your bluff, didn't I?” he said, sliding the hat from his face. He was alone. They'd gone, ostensibly to scare him into thinking Rafe was actually heading off to save Judah's princess from her self-declared dilemma. But Darla wanted only one cowboy.
And that's me,
he assured himself.

He glanced over at the Scrabble board, seeing a lack of imagination in the chosen spellings. “‘Marriage, wife, convenience, bad idea,'” he said out loud, eyeing the tiles. “Oh, very funny. You guys are a laugh a minute.” He went back to sleep, completely unconcerned. He had everything under control.

“M
ARRY YOU
?” Darla asked twenty minutes later, when Rafe had hotfooted it over to her house and banged on her door. He'd told her he'd just left Judah, after telling him he was going to propose. Darla didn't know what to think about the Callahans anymore, except that maybe they were just as crazy as everyone said. “Why would I want to marry you?”

“You'd like me better in the temporary sense,” Rafe said,
“and after all, it was my twin's gag gift that got you into this dilemma. I feel a certain irony to putting matters right.”

She frowned, wondering why Judah hadn't told her about a gag gift. “Gag gift?”

Rafe nodded. “Judah didn't tell you?”

She shook her head.

“Creed gave us all prank condoms as groom gifts. Clearly, the joke was on Judah.” Rafe stood straighter. “Like I said, I'm here to put things right.”

Darla's heart was sinking. “Judah didn't mind you proposing to me?”

Rafe shook his head. “No, he said to have at it.”

Darla wondered what new game Judah had up his sleeve. Her pride came to the fore as she said, “I don't understand why this would solve anything.”

“Well, if it's a temporary situation you're looking for, and I guess it is, due to the pink ultimatum you gave Judah, it would be better to marry me, because I am all about temporary. Short Term is my middle name. In fact, No Term is what they should have named me—”

“You don't think Judah will honor the divorce?”

“Nope,” Rafe said. “We're territorial in my family. He's not going to give you up once he has those little cherubs under his control. I mean his, uh, loving guidance.”

Darla considered that. “But Judah doesn't love me.”

Rafe shrugged. “Hasn't he told you that he does?”

“No.” Darla looked at Rafe. “I can raise these children on my own. I don't need anyone to help me with that. I want to marry for love.”

“I know. But it may not happen.” He looked properly saddened by this revelation, which didn't make her feel any better. “As you know, you're like a sister to me. I've always loved all women, but you have a special place in my heart. I don't want to see you get hurt.” Rafe wondered if he was
carrying his role a little too far. The more he talked, the more he believed his story. The truth was, Darla and Judah didn't love each other; getting a divorce after the babies were born was going to hurt them, their children and the family.

But if Rafe married Darla, and she knew he was doing it to give her children a name, then there was no ulterior motive. But there was the small matter of him carrying a super-secret torch for Judge Julie, Bode's daughter. He sighed deeply.

“Darla, I'm here for you if you don't want to marry Judah, and probably no sane woman would want to, I suppose.”

“I guess you're right,” Darla said, thinking that she'd have loved to marry Judah, if things had been different. If they'd fallen in love gently and slowly, finding each other of their own will and choosing, not this slamming together of their separate galaxies. “It's nice of you to offer, Rafe, but actually, I don't want to marry you, either.”

He blinked. “Either?”

She sighed. “No. I don't want to marry you, of course, because you're right. You are a brother to me. And I don't want to marry Judah. I'd always feel like the wallflower that got asked to dance because the guy felt sorry for her.” She felt tears prickle her eyes, but stood her ground. “Thank you for coming by, Rafe. It's been helpful.”

“It has?” Rafe wasn't certain the conversation hadn't gone wildly off the guided track. She wasn't supposed to be saying she didn't want either of them. She was supposed to insist that Judah was the only man for her, once she realized it was true. Clearly, she'd realized something of a totally different sort. “So what are you going to do?”

Darla smiled. “What I should have done all along.”

“I
HAVE TO GIVE THIS BACK
to you,” Darla said, laying the magic wedding dress carefully over the bed in Sabrina's room at Rancho Diablo. “It's lovely.” She gave Sabrina a smile she
didn't realize was sad until she felt it on her face. “Thank you for offering it to us. Jackie felt like a princess when she wore it to her wedding.”

Sabrina studied Darla. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There's nothing to talk about. I think our customers just aren't looking for gowns that are quite so vintage.”

“I meant do you want to talk about your wedding? Or anything else?”

Darla shook her head. “There won't be a wedding. For one thing, Sidney and I have decided to remain simply friends.”

“And Judah?”

“Judah and I have a complicated situation. We're still trying to figure out how to say hello to each other without feeling awkward.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Darla shook her head again. “I don't think so. Callahans are different types to deal with, as I'm sure you know.”

Sabrina smiled. “It's true.”

“Do you think you and Jonas will ever—”

“No.” Sabrina shook her own head. “You and Judah do not have the market cornered on awkward.”

Darla smiled. “Why that makes me feel better, I don't know.”

“Misery loves company.”

Sabrina hung the gown in her closet, closing it away. Darla fancied she could still hear the lovely song of its allure calling to her. It was like looking at a sparkling diamond a woman dreamed of one day owning—

“Oh!” Darla jumped to her feet. “I'm sorry to cut this short. I just remembered something I have to do.”

Sabrina nodded. “Judah's in the bunkhouse. And if you change your mind about the dress, it'll be here, ready to go on short notice.”

“Thanks,” Darla said, thinking that short notice and
her wedding would never go together. She'd learned about being hasty—and next time, if there ever was a next time she planned a wedding, she was taking the long route.

“S
O THEN WHAT DID SHE SAY
?” Jonas asked. Sam was glued to Rafe's every word. They sat around the Scrabble board, but they weren't playing. Judah was nowhere to be found. There were chores that had to be done—ASAP—but at the moment, Jonas and Sam were spellbound by Rafe's bungling of the Darla Problem.

“She said she didn't want to marry me or Judah,” Rafe said. “She was pretty definite about it, too.”

“Judah's going to kill you,” Sam said. “You were supposed to help Darla see that Judah is the only man for her.”

“She doesn't think like most women,” Rafe said in his defense. “She's pretty independent. And I think Judah annoys her fiercely.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jonas demanded. “We don't care if she's annoyed. We care that she takes Judah off our hands and keeps him forever.”

“It was scary,” Rafe said. “For a minute, I thought she was going to take me up on my offer.” He shuddered. “I don't think Judah understands how thin a thread he's hanging by with Darla.”

“This isn't good.” Jonas considered the information about Judah's precarious nuptials. “We could talk to Fiona, tell her that the lovebirds are planning to get a divorce
inmediatamente.
That would frost her cookies. I think that falls under the heading of no fake marriages, and puts him out of contention for the ranch. She won't be happy.”

Sam swallowed. “I've got to have a fake marriage if I play the game. I'm never letting a woman lead me around by the nose.”