Tina Leonard - His Callahan Bride's Baby

“You won’t.”

He shook his head. “It’s not in our nature to give up. We’re all stubborn that way.” Pulling into her driveway, he switched off the engine. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

She opened her door and got out, turning to look at him only briefly. “That won’t be necessary. I hope you heal fast, Falcon. Good night.”

Taylor shut the door and took off into her house. She didn’t even look back. Stunned, Falcon sat, amazed by how fast his evening had just ended.

But he got it. The whole evening had been awkward. No doubt weird, from Taylor’s point of view. Of course it was weird. How many girls had to rescue their date? He glanced at the rifle she’d left in the rack, just as it had been before, as if it had never been fired—but it had.

There was no changing what had happened. And tomorrow night Taylor had a date with Mr. Right.

Falcon pondered that for a moment, then realized what his next move had to be.

Chapter Four

“The thing is,” Taylor told Jillian the next night, “I really think I could like Falcon except for all the obvious reasons not to. None of which my heart is paying attention to, of course, which is a very bad sign. This only happened to me once before, when I fell for a completely inappropriate man. Luckily, the insanity eventually passed.”

Jillian put some glasses away behind the bar. “Callahans have been known to devastate the females of the population. I vote you gird your heart and go home and paint your toenails a pretty pink for your date.” Jillian smiled at her. “You should know the phone’s been ringing off the hook with men wanting to take you out.”

“Why?” Taylor sank onto a bar stool. She really didn’t want to go out with anyone besides Falcon. Then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go out with him again, considering last evening. Jillian was right: dating a Callahan was fraught with complications. “Why do men want to take me out?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I did hear a rumor that Fiona Callahan and her friends—conspirators, some call them—at the Books’n’Bingo Society decided this was the perfect opportunity to showcase Diablo’s most eligible bachelorette. I think they rented a barn roof near the highway to advertise that we had a Diablo princess. Any eligible bachelor was invited to call a number for vetting. Fiona said they’ve had a hundred calls, and only found three worthy of the princess. I think she designated the process Pick-a-Prince. I’d call her tone pleased.”

“The thing is,” Taylor said, ignoring the thought of three unfortunate princes Fiona might foist on her, “when I saw Falcon fighting, so big and strong, I’m pretty sure my heart sat up and noticed. He was like John Wayne, but dark and somehow calling to all my forbidden desires. My heart definitely sat up, Jillian.”

“Tell it to sit back down,” she advised. “You don’t need a fighter. You need a lover.”

Taylor would bet Falcon could do both. Through the Diablo grapevine, she’d heard that he had taken those horses she’d been worried about to Rancho Diablo, and had a vet and farrier brought out to care for them. If that didn’t warm a girl’s heart, nothing would. She dusted off the counter and began wiping down booths. “He told me we were going ghost hunting, and then he disappeared, and my first thought was that he was rude for trying to scare me to death. You warned me he was a rascal.” She sighed. “I think the evening might have scared up some of my own ghosts.”

Jillian smiled. “Fear of commitment, fear of love, fear of falling for a big, handsome Callahan. You can’t say I didn’t warn you to try to avoid temptation. There’s only one solution.”

“I know. Paint my toenails pink for tonight.”

“I’ll even let you off early so you can get started. The way to get your mind off one rascal is to get your mind on a different one.”

Blind dates were the pits. Nothing good could come of it, especially when she had a yen for a dark-eyed rebel—a different kind of prince entirely.

* * *

“N OW HERE ’ S THE DEAL,” Fiona told her nephew, “I’m on your side. But you’re going to have to be more forthcoming about some things. Right now it feels like we’re at cross purposes.”

Falcon put the saddle he was carrying onto one of the many split-rail fences that lined Rancho Diablo. “You’re running the prince pick-a-thon for Taylor. How are you on my side?”

“Don’t you worry about that.” Fiona gazed up at her nephew. He stood a good foot above her, but Fiona always gave the impression that she was the more powerful force. Her white hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense knot from which a strand rarely came loose. She wore her customary rubber boots, which gave her traction, she said, for the ups and downs of a busy life. “I expect you to have plenty of gumption where Taylor is concerned. You won’t disappoint me, I’m sure.”

He leaned against a wood rail, recognizing his aunt had something on her mind. “Forthcoming about what?”

“What Wolf wants.”

“I don’t know.”

She shook her head. “He didn’t try to drag you off for a chat because he’s the world’s most caring uncle.” Fiona touched Falcon’s cheek lightly over the bruise. “I’m sorry this happened. But you’re going to have to be straightforward with me.”

“Says the aunt who’s trying to fix up the woman I like with a string of bachelors.” He grimaced. “My guess is Wolf is trying to scare us. This is his second attack. Since he tried to take Kendall before, he either thinks he can get information from us, or he believes we’ll get spooked. Spooked people make mistakes.”

“Maybe.” Fiona sat next to him on the rail. “I want you to take me to Wolf’s hideout.”

Falcon shook his head. “I can’t do it. It’s too dangerous.”

“As your beloved aunt, I insist.”

He sighed. “I know you do. It won’t do any good. There’s nothing there. My brothers and sister already paid the cave a visit.”

“Find anything?”

“Not a thing. They were gone.”

“Good.” She hopped off the rail. “Then if nothing’s there, you won’t be worried about taking your aunt out for a small look-see.”

“I’m not going to do it,” Falcon said, “no matter how much I love you.”

“I love you, too, but don’t try to sweet-talk me, because this time it won’t work. Let’s go.”

Falcon wondered if there was another family on earth whose aunt ruled the roost with such vigor. “I could be persuaded to compromise.”

“You want me to end the search for Taylor’s prince.”

“Perhaps not be quite so enthusiastic about it.”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “You’re not afraid of a little competition, are you?”

He took a deep breath. “Look. I promised Jillian—well, I didn’t really promise Jillian, she posed a challenge I thought was aggravating but respectable—that I wouldn’t crowd Taylor. It’s sort of a may-the-best-man-win thing. I have no doubt of my best-man status where Taylor is concerned. But it’d be nice if my aunt wasn’t stacking the deck against me.”

“I understand and can probably agree to your terms,” Fiona said. “Partially, anyway. I have to take into consideration what’s best for both of you, you know. Still, I’ve been known to parlay on occasion.”

“You really want to see that cave, don’t you?”

She nodded. “About as much as you want your girl.”

Falcon wasn’t really surprised. There was very little that didn’t interest the redoubtable aunt. “Come on,” he said. “Don’t tell my brothers, and definitely not Ash, that I gave in to your gentle persuasion.”

Fiona grinned. “I believe I have something of a reputation for being able to keep a secret.”