A Cowboy's Charm (3 page)

Chapter Two

When they reached the ranch house Rylan brought the horse to a halt near the front porch so Callie could dismount. She faltered slightly when her left foot hit the ground and he quickly wrapped an arm around her for support.

The action brought them face to face and a little too close for comfort. Tawny lion eyes locked with suddenly wary green ones. Neither of them blinked or breathed until she stepped out of his reach.

“Thanks for the lift.” She forced a lightness to her tone that she definitely didn’t feel. Rylan’s gaze was too intense and probing. It took a few long, heated seconds to break the visual contact. The banging of a screen door helped to redirect their attention.

“Hey, Menger, is that you?” came a welcoming shout.

Callie glanced toward the masculine voice and a wide smile split her face. She’d adored Brad since the first time she’d met him. He was as tall and as well-built as Rylan yet not nearly as intimidating. The brothers shared the same classic male bone structure and golden hair color but Brad’s eyes were darker. They reminded her of milk chocolate and always seemed to be lit with amusement.

“Brad!” she cried. She hadn’t seen him since his graduation from vet school last year. They’d talked on the phone but she’d still missed him. She gladly left Rylan’s side and hurried to the porch.

“It sure is good to see you,” said Brad as he gave her a big hug and a smacking kiss on the forehead.

There was no doubting the warmth and welcome of his greeting and she basked in it. He’d attended Ohio State University, and since it was only a few hours drive from the Penn State campus where she’d lived, the two of them had visited each other often. He’d been her anchor when she’d thought she’d die from losing Rylan.

“I’ve missed you!” she insisted, grasping his face between her hands. “I know I shouldn’t admit it. You’ll get a swelled head. But I’ve missed you a bunch.”

“I missed you too,” he declared, giving her another fierce hug. Then he lifted Rylan’s hat off her head.

“How’d you manage a personal escort to the house?”

Callie crinkled her nose in a grimace and eased out of his arms. She knew by now Rylan would be putting the worst possible twist on her relationship with Brad. He always had but she just didn’t care.

“Her car’s down the highway with a flat,” Rylan explained as he approached them and reached out a hand for his hat.

When Brad tossed it, he shoved his hair back and settled the hat on his head.

“What, no spare?” asked Brad. “Did you forget the golden rule of Masterson driver’s education?”

Callie rolled her eyes and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Please don’t ask. Rylan has already read me the riot act. No ‘Hello, Callie’. No ‘Nice to see you’. No ‘Welcome back, Callie’. Just criticism, criticism, criticism,” she expounded dramatically.

Brad was chuckling and Rylan’s frown was deepening as she continued. “I’m not a complete idiot. I’m just a victim,” she insisted, her gaze flashing to Rylan. “I didn’t expect to puncture one tire and have another of my very expensive new tires go flat.”

“Stop the theatrics and give me your keys,” he snapped. “She doesn’t even know what size tires she uses,” he told his brother in disgust.

“I am a wicked, wicked woman,” Callie drawled in a fake Southern accent. His tone hurt more than she cared to admit yet she’d promised herself she wouldn’t let his attitude get to her. She’d never been more than a passing fancy to him so she wasn’t about to cater to his moods.

To annoy him more she leaned against the porch post and struck a provocative pose, one arm behind her, chest thrust forward and one leg extended. Then she reached down the front of her shirt to very slowly remove her car key from her bra. A blush warmed her cheeks as she realized how lucky she was not to have lost it in the woods.

As she tossed it to Rylan, her eyes sparkled with defiance. He didn’t say a word. His expression remained coolly challenging as he lifted the key to his nose and inhaled the scent of her.

Callie’s blush spread down her neck and she silently cursed her own susceptibility. She could act the vamp and challenge him on a sexual level but he always managed to outmaneuver her. She’d handled college Casanovas with ease yet she didn’t think she’d ever be sophisticated enough to handle Rylan Masterson.

Luckily for her the roar of an approaching pickup truck caught everyone’s attention and they all looked down the road. A jacked-up red truck with oversized tires and racing decals all over the body was heading toward them at a speed that didn’t seem too safe.

“Chuck and Sammy,” Brad explained. “School was extended a couple weeks this spring but today’s their last day. They’re probably feeling pretty cheerful.”

“Chuck’s going to get them both killed if he doesn’t get the lead out of his foot,” said Rylan.

“Oh, and I’m sure you never drove too fast,” Callie taunted him, crossing her arms over her chest. “If I remember correctly there was a time when the local highway patrolmen knew your license number by heart.”

Rylan glared at her. “Ancient history.”

Brad roared with laughter as his brother and Callie squared off against each other. Few people dared to challenge Rylan so diligently and there was never a dull minute when Callie was in residence. Life was bound to get more interesting for a while.

The truck screeched to a halt and two tall, gangly teenaged boys were out the doors before the engine had even died. Callie’s eyes widened. Her young cousins had grown considerably since she’d last seen them.

“Good grief, when did they get so tall?”

Rylan flashed her an accusing glance. “It’s been four years,” he reminded tersely.

She didn’t risk a glance at him but kept her gaze on the approaching teens. Though nearly the same height, Sammy, fifteen, was the younger and smaller in stature. He seemed all scrawny arms and legs.

Chuck, almost eighteen, favored the Masterson side of the family except for hazel eyes that were more in keeping with his mother’s side. Both boys had light brown hair a shade darker than their elder brothers. Sammy had inherited an added glint of red from his mother. The two teens whooped with delight.

“Hey, Callie!”

“Hey, cuz!”

“Long time no see.”

“Is that your red sports car down the road?” Chuck wanted to know. “How fast will it go?”

“I told Chuck it had Pennsylvania tags,” chimed Sammy. “Do you have a radar detector? I heard red cars get stopped more by the cops. Have you ever gotten picked up?”

“What will it do in the quarter?” asked Chuck.

Callie was laughing at the deluge of questions as she ran to hug them. “I’ll answer your questions if you’ll tell me when you guys got so tall and handsome. Am I going to need a bat to fend the girls from our door all summer?”

“All summer?” Rylan interjected so harshly that he drew everyone’s attention. Four pairs of eyes riveted to him. His gaze locked on Callie.

“Callie’s here for the summer,” explained Brad. His tone was light, as if he were trying to stave off an eruption. “You know Mom’s been fretting about staying in the city. She thinks we need a woman in the house to look after us. Callie was at loose ends and agreed to come.”

Rylan’s eyes narrowed as they met Brad’s and his voice was tight. “When was all this decided?”

“Last week.”

Chuck and Sammy wore identical expressions of confusion. Their gazes went from Rylan to Brad to Callie and then back to Rylan.

Callie’s gaze collided with Rylan’s. Hers reminded him that his brothers didn’t understand the antagonism between them.

“I realize I’m not actually needed. My decision to come relieved Aunt Molly and my mom. She’s been torn between coming to help and staying home to look after Daddy.”

Rylan’s expression remained fierce but he didn’t say anything else. He turned his attention to Chuck and Sammy.

“Callie’s car has a flat. You guys want to help me check it out?”

“Sure! Yeah!” they chorused.

“We can take my truck,” offered Chuck.

Rylan held his hand out. Chuck tossed him the keys and then turned to swing himself into the truck bed.

“You coming, Callie?” asked Sammy as he climbed into the cab. “I’ll let you ride shotgun.”

Before she could respond Rylan answered for her. “She needs to rest and stay out of the sun,” he declared while climbing into the pickup.

“I’ll see you later,” she called over the revving of the engine.

Sammy waved, slammed the door of the truck and waved some more as they pulled away from the house. Callie waved back, watched the truck head down the drive and then turned to Brad. With hands on hips and the heat of battle in her eyes, she laid into him.

“I can’t believe you arranged for me to come out here without Rylan’s approval! You must have known he wouldn’t agree or you wouldn’t have organized everything while he was gone.”

Brad shrugged, unrepentant. “Rylan wasn’t here. I had to consider what was best for Mom. Too bad if big brother doesn’t like it.”

“But you could have waited a few days,” she insisted, stepping onto the porch.

“The sooner Mom concentrates on her therapy the sooner she’ll be recovered. I couldn’t see any reason to delay.”

Callie saw plenty of reason. She’d assumed Rylan approved of her stay even if he wasn’t thrilled to have her. It was too late to back out now yet they very well may have opened a Pandora’s box of trouble.

“Gonna chicken out?” taunted Brad, his eyes gleaming devilishly.

“No, I am not,” she replied testily. “But I do remember some mention of Molly doing her therapy at home.”

“Rylan wanted to rent equipment and hire a therapist so that she could be here. She and her doctors were against it. Our insurance won’t pay for treatment unless she has it at an authorized facility and she was adamant about not spending the extra money.”

“The doctors probably knew she wouldn’t concentrate on therapy if she came home,” she added, tucking her wayward hair behind her ear. She’d seen her hair claw peeking out of Rylan’s shirt pocket but hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

“You got it,” said Brad. “At the hospital she can devote all her time and energy to walking again.”

Callie sighed deeply. Her being here was for the best. Rylan would have to accept the fact but that didn’t mean he’d like it.

“Oh hell.”

The wealth of frustration in her succinct words had Brad roaring with laughter again. She glared at him, doubled up her fist and shook it in front of his face.

He choked off his laughter and grabbed her fist in one large hand. “How many times have you been told you’ll break your thumb if you make a fist this way? Never wrap your fingers around the thumb or you’ll get yourself a broken digit.”

“Providing I ever get the opportunity to hit someone hard enough to break bones,” she quipped, her good nature restored by his teasing.

“God forbid.”

“God and Rylan,” she corrected, slipping easily into the banter that was an integral part of their relationship.

There was no telling how many times the two of them had teamed up against Rylan for one reason or the other. They’d never thought it unfair because they figured Rylan had the Big Man on his side.

“God and Rylan,” Brad conceded, returning her grin. “What would you say to a cold drink and someplace comfortable to prop your feet?”

“Sounds heavenly,” she retorted, tongue in cheek.

Brad groaned at her stupid pun “That settles it. You can get your own cold drink. I hate to run out on you but I need to go and tend a sick cow. You’ll have to make yourself at home until the guys get back.”

“I’m not sure I like playing second fiddle to a cow but I suppose I can manage.”

He gave her a smile, hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her closer for a swift kiss. “It really is good to have you here.”

Callie hugged him tightly. The two of them had weathered some pretty intense emotional storms together and her feelings for him were complex.

“It’s good to be here.”

“Nothing much has changed in the house. Mary Peters comes a couple times a week to clean, cook and do laundry for us. I had her get your old room ready so feel free to crash for a while.”

“I just might do that.” She was weary. She’d been too wired to sleep much before making the trip and those last couple hours had drained what was left of her strength.

They said goodbye and Callie watched him head for the barnyard. He climbed into a black pickup truck with an extended cab and a cap that protected his equipment.

She smiled and waved as he drove down the road. Once alone she took another good look around the property. It was all achingly familiar—the long broad porch with its collection of furniture, the expanse of lawn shaded by ancient trees, the many barns, grain bins and corrals portioned off by board fences.

Breathing deeply, she inhaled the unique scents of the Masterson ranch. The smell of the horses, hay and the pansies that always surrounded the porch were synonymous with the sweetest memories of her life.

The big, white, two-storied house with black shutters on long windows hadn’t changed on the surface. Callie wondered if Molly had changed much of the inside decor. She opened the door to have a look.