Lisa Jackson - Rumors - The McCaffertys - The McCaffertys - Thorne

“As long as it takes.”

“Aren’t there some big deals in Denver and Laramie and wherever the hell else you own property—things you need to oversee?”

Thorne resisted being baited and managed a guarded grin, the kind Slade so often gave the rest of the world. “I can oversee them from here.”

“How?”

“By the fine art of telecommunication. I’ll set up a fax, modem, Internet connection, cell phone and computer in the den.”

Matt rubbed his chin. “Thought you hated it here. Except for a few times like that summer after you graduated from college you’ve avoided this ranch like the plague. Ever since Dad and Mom split, you’ve spent as little time here as possible.”

Thorne couldn’t argue the fact. “Randi needs me—us.”

Matt added wood to the fire and switched on a lamp. “Okay, I think we need a game plan,” Thorne said.

“Let me guess, you’ll be the quarterback, just like in high school,” Slade said.

Thorne’s temper snapped. “Let’s just work together, okay? It’s not about calling the shots so much as getting the job done.”

“Okay.” Matt nodded. “I’ll be in charge of the ranch. I’ve already talked to a couple of guys who will help out.”

Slade walked to the couch and picked up his jacket. “Good enough. Matt should run the place, he’s used to it and I’ll pitch in if we need an extra hand. Thorne, why don’t you give Juanita a call? Maybe she can help with the baby. She’s had some experience raising McCaffertys, after all, she helped Dad with us.”

“Good idea, as we’ll need round-the-clock help,” Thorne decided.

“We’ll get it. Now, the way I think I can help best is by concentrating on finding out all I can about what was going on in our sister’s life, especially in the past year or so. I have a friend who’s a private investigator. For the right price, he’ll help us out,” Slade said.

“Is he any good?” Thorne asked.

Slade’s expression turned dark. “If anyone can find out what’s going on, it’ll be Kurt Striker. I’d bet my life on it.”

“You’re sure?”

Slade’s gaze could’ve cut through steel. “I said, I’d bet my life on it. I meant that. Literally.”

“Call him,” Thorne said, persuaded by his usually cynical brother’s conviction.

“Already have.”

Thorne was surprised that Slade had already started the ball rolling. “I want to talk to him.”

“You will.”

“I’ll keep on top of the doctors at the hospital,” Thorne said. “I’ll can do most of my business here by phone, fax and e-mail, so I won’t have to go back to Denver for a while.”

Matt held his gaze for a long second and for the first time in his life Thorne realized that his middle brother didn’t approve of his lifestyle. Not that it really mattered. “Then let’s just get through this,” Matt finally said, as if he suddenly trusted Thorne again, as he had a long time before.

“We will.”

“As long as Randi cooperates,” Slade said.

“She’s a fighter.” Thorne’s reaction was swift and he recognized the irony of his words. Phrases such as she’s really strong, she’ll make it, or she’s too ornery to die, or she’s a fighter, were hollow words, expressed by people who usually doubted their meaning. They were uttered to chase away the person’s own fears.

“Look, I’m going to take inventory of the feed,” Matt said.

“I’ll check the gas pump, see what’s in the tank.” Slade snagged his jacket with one finger and the two younger brothers headed for the front door.

Thorne watched them through the window. Slade paused to light a cigarette on the porch while Matt jogged across the lot, disappearing into the barn again.

As kids they’d been through a lot together; depended upon each other, but as men, they’d gone about their own lives. Thorne had become the businessman, first law school and a stint with a firm before branching out on his own. His father had been right. He’d wanted to prove himself and the measure of a man’s success, he’d always thought, was the size of his bank account.

For the first time in his life he wondered if he’d been wrong. Thinking of Randi battling death and her newborn son just starting his life gave him pause as he walked down the hallway where family portraits graced the walls. There were pictures of his father and mother, his stepmother and all four McCafferty children. Thorne in his high school football uniform and his graduation cap and gown, Matt riding a bucking bronco in a local rodeo, Slade skiing down a steep mountain and Randi in her prom dress, standing next to some boy Thorne couldn’t begin to name. He stopped, touched that framed photo and silently vowed that he’d do anything, anything to make sure she was healthy again. He’d heat a cup of coffee, then call Nicole. She might have more news on his sister. That was the only reason he was calling her, he reminded himself as he walked into the kitchen and snapped on the lights. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his reflection in the windows. For a split second he imagined a mite of a woman with wide gold eyes and a fleeting smile at his side, then pulled himself up short.

What was he thinking? Nicole was Randi’s ER admitting physician and that was it. Nothing more. Yet, ever since he’d first seen her in her office at the hospital, her heels propped on her desk, and her chair leaned back as she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder, he hadn’t been able to force her from his mind. It hadn’t helped that when he’d caught up with her in the parking lot, he’d seen her not as Randi’s doctor, but as a woman—a beautiful, bright and articulate woman. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from kissing her and he’d been thinking about it off and on ever since. Nicole Sanders Stevenson was all grown-up, educated and self-confident—more intriguing now than she had been as a girl of seventeen. Despite her small stature she was a force to be reckoned with—way too much trouble for any man.

And yet…

The wall phone jangled. Snapped out of the ridiculous path of his thoughts, he grabbed the receiver on the second ring. “McCafferty ranch,” he said. “Thorne McCafferty.”

“So you are there!” a sharp female voice accused, and Thorne envisioned Annette’s pretty face in a scowl. He’d dated her for a few months, but had never really connected with her. “What in the world happened? We were supposed to meet the mayor last night!” Annette’s tone brought him up sharp and he gave himself a quick mental shake. He’d never called her. Never once thought of her after leaving his office yesterday.

“There was a family emergency.”

“So you couldn’t pick up a phone? You have a cell phone and you’re on one right now…oh, listen, I don’t mean to go off on you.” She took in a deep, audible breath. “Your secretary told me that your half sister was in some kind of wreck and I’m sorry for her, I really am. I hope she’s okay…?”

“She’s in a coma.”

“Oh, God.” There was another long, weighty pause. “Well, I, um, understand, I really do. Dear Lord, how awful. I know you had to get back there in a hurry, Thorne. That’s understandable and I made your apologies to my father and the mayor, but it seems to me that you could have called me yourself.”

“I should have.”

“Yeah…oh, well.” She sighed. “Dad was disappointed.”

“Was he?” Thorne drawled, imagining Kent Williams’s reaction. The shrewd old man was probably in a stew as he’d wanted to invest with Thorne and was hoping they could cozy up with members of the city council and get an edge on a zoning ordinance that was up for review. “Thanks for giving him my apologies. You didn’t have to do that. I would have called him.”