Tina Leonard - A Callahan Outlaw's Twins (11 page)

It would probably kill her to be housebound during the building of her pet project.

He found a strip of uneven canyon ledge and waited, scanning the landscape for anything out of the ordinary. It felt quiet, too quiet. No hawks circled in the distance. The snow blanketing the canyons reflected the sunlight despite the occasional cloud.

Kendall got out of the jeep, walking the wood frame marking the site. Every once in a while she stood back to take a photo, jot down a note. He understood why Jonas had hired her to oversee the redo of Rancho Diablo and Dark Diablo, his property in Tempest, New Mexico. She was entirely dedicated to her work.

He heard hooves making their way through the ice-laced snow, and Storm Cash rode up from the west, stopping at Kendall’s side. Sloan tensed, pulled his gun. Waited. Leveled the semi at Storm’s wide back.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ash asked at his elbow, and Sloan bit back a curse.

“I could have shot him,” he told his sister, not entirely surprised that she’d sneaked up on him. It was a specialty she was proud of—the ability to make absolutely not one whisper of sound. They’d had contests when they were kids, held by their parents and other elders. It had been a game—until their parents had gone away.

But Sloan knew the way he and his sibling had grown up had toughened them. “I could have jumped and pulled the trigger.”

“You’re not twitchy,” Ash whispered. “You’re a lot of things, but twitchy isn’t one of them. Besides, the lock is on.”

He cursed again. Took the lock off and leveled the gun once more, his gaze on Storm and Kendall. “What are you doing here?” he asked, never moving his eyes.

“Finding out why you’re off post. Falcon sent me looking for you. He said you hadn’t called for backup. You’re not supposed to be out here, and I’m pretty sure the family’s going to gnaw on your ears about it when you get back.”

“That’s fine.” Sloan didn’t really care at the moment. All he could focus on was his wife, the woman carrying his twins, who had no business being out in the snow with a possible merc.

“Hey, check it out. Kendall’s wearing real boots. With rubber soles and everything. Functional. I didn’t know she did functional.” Ash laughed. “Did you buy those for her?”

He hadn’t. While it was surprising to see his wife in something other than sky-high, bright-colored pumps or stylish boots, he didn’t care about that right now, either. Storm was having way too much fun talking to his wife, his hearty laughter floating over to them even at this distance. “What do you suppose he wants?”

“To make trouble.” Ash moved around Sloan. “I’ll see what he’s up to. And keep you off Kendall’s bad side. You know she doesn’t like it when you crowd her space.”

“I’m not— Whatever. Go.”

His sister headed toward the pair still chatting away as if there wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Maybe there wasn’t. Storm might be just an average neighbor out to be friendly. It wasn’t entirely uncommon on big spreads, where visits between neighbors were infrequent enough to warrant a conversation. In a village, there was no such thing as stepping outside a hogan without seeing one’s friends.

Sloan could see Storm’s white teeth and huge smile when Ash walked up and stood next to Kendall, and it irritated the hell out of him, though he couldn’t have said why. Everything about the man annoyed him, but when he started getting annoyed about a man’s teeth, then Sloan was ticked on a deep level.

He was jealous. “That’s just great,” he muttered. “That’ll win me points with my wife.” She’d just love a jealous husband watching her every move. At least that’s the way she’d see it.

He had to get better control of himself.

Kendall got back into the jeep and Ash joined her. Storm watched them drive away, his gaze on them for a long time. Kendall passed Sloan’s location, and Ash didn’t even glance his way—she was too well trained for giveaway tells.

Then he looked at Storm, and even though he knew it was impossible, Sloan had the strangest feeling that the man knew he was there, and had known all along.

Which was trouble.

Chapter Twelve

“You can’t go off post without telling us,” Falcon said when Sloan returned.

“I know. I wasn’t expecting to.” He knew he deserved the dressing-down from his brothers. They all sat in the bunkhouse, wearing stern, annoyed expressions.

“If Galen hadn’t seen you leave, we’d have had a hole in coverage. The enemy is patient. They wait for those kinds of opportunities.” Tighe’s face was stoic, but his words held ominous warning that was right on target.

Sloan knew that, too. “I don’t expect it to happen again.” It wouldn’t. He had to talk to Kendall, tell her that when she said she was going to take a nap to freshen up for their dinner date— “Hellfire! I’ve got to go.” He shot off the sofa, not wanting to be late picking up his wife for their first date. He was pretty certain lateness wasn’t something wives looked upon with favor.

He definitely wanted Kendall looking on him with favor.

“Wait.” Jace stopped his headlong rush to the door. “Bro, we have to tell you something.”

He glanced at his vintage military wristwatch. With luck, Kendall was the type of woman who took a long time to get ready. “Can you make it quick?”

“Brother,” Dante said, “she’s got to go.”

“Who’s got to— Oh.” He looked around at his
brothers’ faces.

“Kendall can’t stay here.” Tighe wore an expression of sympathy, but determination, too. “It’s dangerous. And your attention is divided.”

It was true. He hated to admit it. He’d won medals for his service, made the tribe and his family proud. “I think it’s the twins,” he said. “Being a dad has my mind twirling around like pinwheels in my head.”

“Maybe,” Galen said. “All the more reason Kendall should return home to her family, and the Callahans. Where she will be safe, and the children, too.”

His family was right. They were a team, they knew each other as well as they knew the spirits of their ancestors. Sloan swallowed. Took a deep breath, sighed. “I’ll tell her tonight.”

Jace let him pass. Sloan headed across to the main house, his heart heavy.

Dreading what he had to do.

* * *

“S
O
TELL
ME
ABOUT
YOURSELF
,”
Kendall said, laughing as she did so. They’d settled into a diner in town called Banger’s Bait and Tackle, which served a mean catfish. She didn’t know if Sloan liked catfish, but this was a quiet, family-style restaurant, which suited her, because she intended to spend time getting to know her very handsome, very sexy husband. “I guess that sounds strange, since we’re married.”

His navy eyes seemed worried. He didn’t smile at her ridiculous-sounding question. “It takes time to get to know someone. A long time.”

“I feel like I’ve known you forever, in some ways,” Kendall said softly. “I don’t know why, but something about you seems very comfortable to me.” He shifted, his leather jacket stretching across his broad shoulders as he moved. “So we’ll start small. Tell me about your parents. I guess I’ll meet them one day.”

Sloan shook his head. “No. We don’t see them.”

“Never?”

“No.”

He didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. Kendall frowned, thinking family information wasn’t an unusual topic for married people to share.

“Did you not get along?”

“We got along. They were wonderful parents.” He drummed his fingers on the table, glanced around the restaurant. The waitress came over, a bouncy redhead named Mabry, who took their drink orders.

“My dad’s name is Carlos Chacon,” he continued when she’d left. “My mother’s name is Julia Connally. She was from Orange County, Virginia. They met on a military base in Germany. Love at first sight.” Sloan drank his beer when it arrived, then set it down. Kendall sipped her Perrier, hoping he’d reveal more.

He frowned, and Kendall wondered why, then understood when Storm Cash walked over to their table.

“We meet again,” he said to Kendall. He reached out to shake Sloan’s hand. “Callahan.”

Sloan didn’t take his hand. “What do you want, Cash?”

Kendall’s eyes widened. Her husband was being a bit rude to one of their neighbors, and it surprised her.

“Just being neighborly,” Storm said.

“No need.” Sloan glared at Storm, his expression fierce.

“Ever find out who broke your window?” Storm asked.

“Funny thing, but that rock didn’t talk.”

Sloan sipped his beer, seemingly casually, but Kendall knew better. He was tense, more so than usual.

Cash tipped his hat to her. “Evening, ma’am.”

“Goodbye.” Kendall watched as Storm walked away, and then turned her gaze to Sloan. “What was that all about?”

He shrugged, opened his menu.

“Sloan.”

His gaze met hers. “Yes?”

She pointed toward Storm’s retreating back. “Explain. The attitude, the broken window and rock part of the story.”

“Someone threw a rock through the library window late one night. Cash happened to be in the neighborhood.”

Storm had seemed so nice. Kendall studied her husband. “Do you know that he did it?”

“No. I’m going to have a steak. What appeals to you?”

“Sloan, this doesn’t feel like a date when you’re hiding behind your menu and avoiding telling me things. It’s hard to feel like we’re married when you don’t mention rocks flying through windows.” She wondered if he was annoyed with her for speaking to Storm. But how was she to know, if her husband didn’t tell her anything?

He looked at her. “Kendall, you’re going to have to go back to Hell’s Colony.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you or my children around here right now. None of the other wives are at Rancho Diablo. Certainly not the kids.”

She looked at him, wishing he wasn’t so handsome, wishing she didn’t like him so much. Like? Try falling in love. “I’m not going.”

He raised a brow. “It’s been suggested that my attention is too divided with you around. That I’m not focused on my job.”

“Focus harder.” She peered into his face, not understanding why he was so angry. “I do my job. You can do yours. I’m not leaving my husband.”

His lips went flat.

“Guess this is our first disagreement as man and wife,” she said. “Kind of stinks, since it’s also our first date.”

He sighed. “Kendall. I can’t keep an eye on you every second.”

“That’s right. And you shouldn’t try. I’m going to do what I want to do.” She laid her menu down, put her hand over his. “Is this because I talked to Storm?”

“You think I’m jealous?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Hell, yeah.” Sloan shook his head. “But it’s not why you need to leave Rancho Diablo. It wasn’t a wolf or a bear, or whatever excuse you gave, that attacked you. However you justified it. It was someone who was trying to kidnap you, most likely to use you to get information about Molly and Jeremiah Callahan. As long as you’re here, you’ll be a target. Our children...can you imagine how you’d feel if one of the babies was taken?”

She wasn’t going to answer that. She was only three months along, maybe. The babies wouldn’t be arriving for months.

But she could tell by the look on his face that he really didn’t want her in Diablo. “Sloan.”

He took her hands in his. “Babe. You’ve got to go to Hell’s Colony.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. Wouldn’t admit how much it hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” His hands slipped away, and he leaned back. “I’ll relax knowing you’re safe.”

“No, you won’t. You never relax.” She put her napkin on the table. “I’m going back to the ranch.”

“Hang on. I’ll take you.”

She couldn’t face a silent ride home. “I’ll wait outside.”

She could see Sloan’s dilemma. But if they didn’t spend time with each other now, when would they ever really become close? Their lives were so very different.

She stood outside the restaurant, wishing she’d worn her comfortable footwear instead of the stiletto, black suede boots she’d chosen in an attempt to look sexy for her husband. It was like trying to romance a stone.

“Excuse me,” someone said, and she looked up to see two women smiling at her from a dark green truck. Snow fell, dusting the pavement and the vehicle’s roof. “Can you give us directions to—”

But she didn’t hear the rest. Suddenly she was hustled into a truck that pulled up behind the green one, and both vehicles sped away. Kendall pushed hard against the door, trying to escape, but her hands were swiftly tied and tape placed over her mouth though she desperately twisted her head to avoid it.

A hood dropped over her head and someone buckled a seat belt over her.

Then there was silence—except for the sound of Kendall’s heart pounding hard, practically thundering. She felt a little faint, hoped she didn’t get a wave of nausea. The smelly duct tape pulled at her mouth.

Someone was going to get an earful when she finally got this tape off.

* * *

K
ENDALL
WAS
TAKEN
from the truck not long later, and walked through snow farther than she wanted to in her stiletto boots. When the hood was finally removed, she saw she was in a cave. A dark-haired female removed the tape from her mouth while someone untied her wrists, and a tough-eyed older man who would have been handsome if he wasn’t a criminal stepped close to her.

Kendall slapped him with all her might. “You jerk,” she said. “Do you know what you’ve done? Do you have any idea who I am?”

He rubbed his face, then motioned for the two females accompanying him to back away. “You’re a Callahan woman. That’s all I need to know.”

She was furious. “My name is Kendall Phillips. I have three brothers, all trained to kill.” She fibbed a bit about Xav, but who knew what the Callahans had been teaching him since he’d been on the ranch? Anyway, the story made her feel stronger. “They all have bad tempers, I assure you—tempers they inherited from our father, Gil Phillips. We own the largest manufacturing company for heavy machinery in the world. That’s right,” she said, barely taking a breath, “
that
Phillips. And my absence will not go unnoticed long, since my job is my life. Or was my life. If you kidnapped me because of my husband, let me tell you about him. He has a
very
bad temper. And he’s grouchy and possessive. Bad move on your part. He has five brothers, and I’m pretty sure they’re all trained to do something harmful to the human body. And you don’t even want to know about their sister.” Kendall glanced at the two females in the cave. “You girls just think you’re tough. For your sake, I hope it’s not my sister-in-law who comes for me, because I’m pretty sure even her brothers are afraid of her. This is the worst day of your life,” she told the man listening to her rant. “And you’ve ruined my best Manolo Blahnik boots, you ape,” she finished.

“That’s interesting,” he said. “Thanks for the warning. Tell me something. All these people you mention—are they living at Rancho Diablo?”

She looked at him. “Isn’t that why you took me? Because you think you can find out something about the Callahans?”

“Maybe.” He smiled. She noticed his scar and his broken nose, thinking that when he was younger he’d probably been very attractive except that he was a creepy jerk. “If your husband is at Rancho Diablo, then where are the other Callahans?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea. That’s information above my pay grade, to quote my husband.”

Her captor looked at her. “If your name is Kendall Phillips, what’s your husband’s name?”

“What’s yours?” Kendall asked, figuring she might as well stall, give Sloan a chance to find her.

“You’re my guest,” the man reminded her. “You go first.”

She looked around the cold cave. “Some host.”

“Name.”

“Sloan,” she said, seeing no reason not to tell him.

“Ah. Sloan Chacon.” He smiled again. “I know him well.”

“I doubt it.” She glared at him. “He doesn’t let anybody know him well.” Kendall was too angry to hold her tongue. A lightning flash of intuition hit her: Sloan had mentioned three mercenaries were supposedly living in the canyons. The Callahans would have been looking for three men.

But maybe it was one man and two women.

She decided to continue talking, see if she could learn anything Sloan could use. “What’s interesting is how lucky you are that I didn’t get any morning sickness while you had that nasty tape on my mouth.”

“Morning sickness?” He frowned at her.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, and he drew back. “With twins,” she added, liberally revealing information that her captors couldn’t find appealing. “I get lots of cravings. And lots of morning sickness. I vomit
a lot.
And it’s always projectile.”

“Oh,
great,
” one of the women said.

Her hulking captor looked at her, assessing her story, weighing his options. Kendall figured Sloan would probably be here in about five minutes, knowing him, and all hell would break loose.

“You’re going to be more trouble than you’re worth,” he said.

“Tough mistake in your line of work,” Kendall said, feeling pretty cheerful about that.

He jerked his head at the women. “Take her back.”

“She’s seen us,” the dark-haired one said.

“True.” He nodded. Then he spoke in a language Kendall didn’t recognize, and once more the hood dropped over her face.

The adrenaline wore off, and fear took its place.

* * *

S
LOAN
WAS
ANNOYED
.

When he was with Kendall, he experienced that emotion frequently. He looked around outside the restaurant, trying to figure out where she might have gone. She could have met someone she knew and wanted to chat with. He could have missed her in the restaurant. Possibly she’d simply gotten upset with him and left.

She would never do that.

He tugged his collar up around his neck and waited. It was all he could do, and the feeling was novel—and unpleasant. He wasn’t a very patient person.

“Hey.”

He looked at the elderly woman who appeared beside him on the sidewalk.

“Hello,” he answered politely.