chapter 25

"What do you mean, you don't think this is a good idea?" Colin was leaning his butt

against the porch railing, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked impeccably

groomed, if slightly overdressed, as he always did; his khaki pants sported knife-sharp

creases and his shoes gleamed with polish.

"Colin. Last night was wonderful. It really was. But—"

"Don't give me the standard kiss-off line. 'Last night was great, it's not you, it's

me.' I know that line, I've sure as hell used it enough times. Don't do that." He narrowed

his eyes at her, and she could imagine him using the same look when he was trying to

intimidate someone in a business negotiation.

"Colin …"

"This isn't about what happened with Liam, is it? It's about Drew."

It was, partly, but she hadn't wanted to say that. She didn't want to give anyone any

more reason to dislike her brother.

She didn't answer.

"What did he say to you last night?" Colin demanded.

"He's going through a lot right now," she said. It wasn't an answer—not really—but

it likely told him all he needed to know.

"We all are. We lost an uncle, and we gained a cousin we didn't know about, who

apparently can't stand the sight of us. We're all going through a lot."

"I just … I think my loyalty has to be to Drew right now," she said.

He pressed his lips together tightly and nodded. "Loyalty."

It had been a keyword over the last twenty-four hours. Liam had accused Colin of

disloyalty, and Drew had accused Julia of the same thing. How far did family loyalty

have to go? Did her loyalty to her brother matter more than what she was beginning to

feel for Colin? She didn't know, but she suspected that, given more time, she might

choose Colin. She had to stop this before it came to that.

And she couldn't stop thinking about what Drew had said—that Colin could never

really be serious about her. She didn't want to believe she was that insecure.

"I came here for him," she said. "To help him."

"And there's not some part of you that came here for me? Not even a little?" His

the voice was low and intimate, and he took a step toward her and reached out to gently

touch her face.

"That's not …"

"What did he say to you?" he asked again.

She couldn't think, not with Colin's hand caressing her face. And she needed to

think. She shook her head and stepped backward, away from his touch. "It doesn't matter

what he said. What matters is that he's right. There's just too much drama right now, too

much conflict. Too many people could get hurt."

He leaned against the railing again and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. He

nodded slightly, as though answering a question that she couldn't hear.

"So, it doesn't matter if I'm one of the people who gets hurt?"

He regretted the words the moment he'd said them. He didn't want her to see him

again because he was manipulating her into it. After all, she felt guilty about hurting him.

He needed her to see him again because she wanted to because she was beginning to feel

the same things for him that he was feeling for her.

But what was he feeling for her? Was it love? Not yet; it was too soon for that. At

least, that's what he told himself. The thought that he might be falling for her already was

ridiculous. But he couldn't deny that being with her last night had given him a glimmer

of hope, a feeling of rightness, that he hadn't gotten any other way for as long as he could

remember. When he was with her he felt light and at peace, and when he wasn't with her,

he felt like some part of him was dark and empty.

Was that love? It is sure as hell was something.

He looked at her and remembered her touch, her scent, her skin, the way she'd

looked lying sleepy and satisfied in his bed. His chest hurt at the thought that she might

not want him, or at least not enough to overcome the obstacles. But he wasn't going to

beg her; he wasn't going to manipulate her; and he wasn't going to whine about it, either.

She had to want it, too.

Since there was nothing more to say, he walked down the porch steps, got into his

car, and slammed the door. He started the ignition, turned the car around, and then drove

down the road that led to the main house. He'd heard Julia call after him, but he hadn't

acknowledged her.

Colin was a man with things to do. He had to talk to Drew and force some sense into

the man's damned head. But before that, he had something else to attend to. He already

felt like hell, so this was as good a time as any to talk to Liam.

It took some time to track Liam down on the big ranch. Colin couldn't get him on his

cell phone, either because he didn't have it with him or because he was screening his

calls and didn't want to hear whatever Colin might have to say. He wasn't in the house,

but the old Ford F-150 he used when he was in town was parked in front.

Colin figured that Liam was probably out working on the ranch, with the cattle. He

was most comfortable that way, and he couldn't understand why anyone would choose to

work behind a desk, the way Colin did. It was just one of many things that separated

them. Liam might not have been responding to phone calls, but Ryan was. Liam had

crossed paths with him out in the southeast pasture earlier in the morning, Ryan said, and

then he'd gone to the barn to check on a calf they'd culled from the herd so the vet could

check her over. He was probably still there.

Colin considered driving from the main house to the big, state-of-the-art barn, but he

decided to walk instead because it gave him a chance to clear his head. So much was

going on in there: Julia, Liam, Redmond, Drew. And on top of all that, he'd learned just

this morning that one of their biggest commercial tenants was pulling out of the family's

Los Angeles property when the lease was up. He'd need to get someone else in there as

soon as possible, but it wouldn't be easy given that the place had been extensively

customized for the former tenant. He pushed that out of his mind for the moment,

because he couldn't focus on it. He couldn't seem to focus on anything since his talk with

Julia. The morning was cool, and the ground was still dark and rich from a recent rain. The

hills that stretched out over the ranch were carpeted in tall, deep green grass, and the sky

was a clear, pale blue. The day's chill made him wish he were wearing a heavier jacket.

The tree branches whispered as they swayed in the breeze.

When he got to the barn, he noticed an unfamiliar pickup truck parked outside the

front doors. Inside, at the far end of the cavernous structure, he found a young, pretty

woman inspecting the calf as Liam looked on. The woman had long brown hair pulled

back into a ponytail, and she wore tortoiseshell glasses that made her look studious. She

was wearing a pair of faded jeans, work boots, and a thick flannel shirt, and she was on

one knee examining the calf, which was lying on its side in the stall. She raised one of the

calf's eyelids and checked its eye, then pinched the skin on its side with her fingers.

Colin had never met this particular vet before, and the first thing he thought when he

saw her was, good. With a pretty woman in the room—especially one who was a stranger

to them—it was less likely that Liam would have another angry tantrum at Colin.

The second thing he thought was, hmm. Liam was paying so much attention to the

vet that he hadn't even noticed Colin coming into the barn. Maybe if Liam had a woman

in his life for a change, he might focus on his own love life and forget about Colin's.

"She's dehydrated," the vet was saying as Colin reached the stall where the calf was

being kept. "You've tried oral fluid therapy?"

"She wouldn't take it," Liam told her.

"No suckle reflex," she said. "I'm going to have to put her on an IV."

"All right, then," Liam said.

When he noticed Colin, his face changed so slightly that a casual observer would not

have noticed it. A slight narrowing of the eyes, an almost imperceptible flex of the chin.

But Colin noticed it; he'd had a lifetime of experience with Liam's moods.

"You got a minute?" Colin asked.

"Not really," Liam replied.

"It's fine if you need to step away," the vet said agreeably, looking up at them from

where she knelt beside the calf. "I can manage here."

They walked out the door of the barn and stood under an oak tree a few yards away.

"Since when do you need professional help to deal with a dehydrated calf?" Colin

asked, side-eyeing his brother.

"Since never," Liam said.

Colin nodded. "Sounds about right." They stood there companionably enough, given

all that had happened between them. "This new vet's an attractive woman," Colin

observed.

"Yes, she is," Liam agreed.

They thought about that for a minute.

"If that calf hadn't had a problem, something tells me you'd have invented one,"

Colin said.

Liam grinned, and Colin did, too. He couldn't seem to help it.

"Look. About the thing at Neptune …" Liam looked intensely uncomfortable as he

rocked back and forth on his feet and scratched at the stubble on his chin.

"You don't have to apologize," Colin said, feeling generous.

"Well, hell, I wasn't going to," Liam said. "I was going to say, you take a punch

pretty well for a guy who works in an office all day."

"Thanks, I guess."

Liam scratched the stubble some more. "You didn't hit me back. I guess it would

have been fair enough if you had."

Colin shrugged and accepted it for what he knew it was—the closest thing to an

the apology he was going to get.

"I like her, Liam. A lot. And I'm not going to stop seeing her, unless she decides

that's what she wants." He didn't feel the need to mention that she already had decided

that very thing.

"Well, shit." Liam stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I can't say I'm comfortable

with that."

"You don't have to be. It's not your life, and you're not the one who's going to be

seeing her." Colin kept his tone light, casual. He didn't think it would gain him much to

escalate the situation, not when Liam's temper seemed to have run its course. "Seems like

you have something in common with Drew, though. Other than DNA."

Liam grunted. "Like what?"

"Like going ballistic over me seeing Julia."

Liam's eyebrows shot up. "What's his problem with you seeing his sister? Does he think

you're not good enough for her? He's got a lot of fuckin' nerve. For God's sake …"

Colin couldn't help but grin affectionately at his brother, despite having been hit by

the very same man about fourteen hours earlier. It was just like when they were kids. If

Liam wanted to pick on Colin, that was business as usual. But if anyone else tried to

bully him or hurt him in any way—at school or anywhere else—he'd have to answer to

Liam. Some things didn't change.

"You're not gonna hit him, too, are you?" Colin asked.

"I'm leaving my options open."

"Liam …"

"Relax. He's safe, at least for now. He's with Ryan somewhere out on the ranch.

And Ryan's never hit anybody, far as I know."

That was true. Ryan was a gentle soul, so much so that he'd become a vegetarian

because he couldn't stand eating the same animals he'd raised from birth. The thought of

him hitting anyone was absurd.

They stood there together in the awkward silence common to men who loved each

other but didn't consider it manly to say so. Liam rocked back and forth on his feet again,

peeked in the barn door to see how the pretty vet was doing, and then looked at Colin

uncomfortably.

"So, are we good?"

"Yeah, I guess. As long as you agree to play nice with the McCrays."

"Mom already told me. And told me," Liam said ruefully.

"Well, good, because I don't have time for any more drama," Colin told him. He

gave Liam a friendly slap on the shoulder. "You'd better get back inside, find out if that

vet is married."

"She's not," he said.

Liam turned and started to walk back into the barn, where the vet and the sick calf

were waiting for him. In the doorway of the barn, he turned and pointed one finger at

Colin.

"I still think you're making a mistake. You and Julia McCray."

Then he went back into the barn without another word...