His Callahan Bride's Baby (Callahan Cowboys) (3 page)

Falcon wasn’t sure they weren’t all caught in Fiona’s web already. He was. But he didn’t tell Ash, because Ash didn’t believe in destiny.

He did. He wanted a date with destiny.

Chapter Three

Falcon waited on Taylor as she got off work, his game plan in hand. “Hi, beautiful.”

Taylor stopped, turned to look at him. He leaned against his truck, giving her his best devil-may-care-and-be-damned smile. She studied him for a second, then walked over to him.

“What are you doing, Falcon? You look pleased with yourself, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

He laughed. “Ride with me.”

She raised a brow. “Why? And where?”

“Ride with me because I’m trying to bend Jillian’s rules. Where—that’s a surprise. A guy has to have some secrets. Then he’s in touch with his feminine side, right?”

Taylor shook her head, clearly considering the wisdom of taking off with him. Falcon gave her plenty of time to talk herself out of it. He knew she wouldn’t.

She might be taking Jillian’s advice, but this little lady liked him. He could feel it.

“Didn’t you agree not to date me?”

He smiled. “I said I wouldn’t ask you to marry me. Dating’s optional.”

“I see.” She considered that. “Where are you taking me?”

He reeled her in slowly. Taylor wasn’t the average girl who’d be satisfied with a regular evening of food and awkward chat. “Ghost-busting.”

She blinked. Hesitated.

He had her.

“Okay,” she said. “But I can’t be gone long. Maybe just an hour or two. I’m pretty sure we’re not operating in the spirit of Jillian’s challenge. You might be cheating.”

He opened the truck door for her. “Might be. We’ll see.”

“It doesn’t surprise me you’d bend the rules, to be honest, Falcon.”

“Good guys finish last, they say.” Sometimes that was true. Most times it wasn’t. He was a good guy who intended to finish first, just as he always had. He drove for about twenty minutes, then turned down a deserted, dark road toward the canyons.

Taylor peered out the window. “So what are we really doing? Ghost-busting doesn’t sound like your thing.”

He smiled. “One thing you should know about me is that I never lie. We truly are looking for ghosts.”

“There are no such things.”

“Oh, Taylor. We’re going to have to work on your appreciation for spirits.”

She sighed. “I hope I don’t regret doing this.”

“What’s life without a few regrets?” He stopped the truck several feet back from a narrow gorge he knew well. “Helps you appreciate life when you get it right.”

“Whatever, cowboy. Let’s go find this apparition of yours. It’s dark enough for one to appear.” She hopped out of the truck. “Not that I think you’re doing anything but dragging me out here because you didn’t want to go alone.”

“Is there anything wrong with wanting a woman’s touch on a ghost hunt? I heard paranormal phenomena are much more sensitive to a female presence. Or it could be that females just have better imaginations.” He laughed at the eye-roll she performed for his benefit.

“All that time you sat at the bar watching me I never would have dreamed you have the soul of a romantic. Or something. So what game are you really up to?”

He took her arm. “Walking my romantic soul. Giving it a chance to breathe.” Taking her in his arms, he kissed her on the lips, intending for it to be a quick one. But he found himself caught into lingering at the softness he encountered.

Kissing Taylor was so much more amazing than how he’d imagined it might feel that he didn’t want to stop.

He pulled himself away with effort as Taylor stepped back.

“Is your soul done breathing?” she asked.

“For the moment.” Falcon grinned, switched on a flashlight and pointed it on the ground. “Watch your step.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can stand the suspense,” Taylor said. “It’s well known in Diablo that you and your brothers and your sister, and all the Callahans, are pretty much one step from... Did you hear that?”

Falcon stopped beside her, swinging the flashlight toward the slight scuffling noise. “Probably just an owl.”

“Owls don’t land on the ground near people,” Taylor said. “It’s not really their desired activity.”

“Okay, Nancy Drew. I was just trying to keep you from being scared.”

“I’m not scared. I think you dragged me out here just to kiss me.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Stating a fact.”

“Fact noted.” Beneath the banter, Falcon’s radar was up. Taylor fell silent beside him, and he put a hand out to keep her near. He was packing a semi in his waistband so was prepared for anything, but the sound had been almost too deliberate to ignore.

It was like something was out there, following them. Years in the military had taught him caution, and he knew with sudden prescience that things weren’t right.

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“I was going to show you the top of a cliff,” Falcon said. “It’s a full moon, and on a night like this you can see sky for miles from atop that cliff. You can see—”

His words broke off. “Falcon?” Taylor didn’t move, her body suddenly tense. “Falcon?”

He’d been at her side a second ago, almost annoyingly overprotective. Now she couldn’t feel him. It was as if he’d disappeared. There was no sound except the slight soughing of wind through the canyons. The flashlight was on the ground, pointing its beam toward black nothingness. Taylor picked it up and switched it off. She stayed completely still, listening.

There were three obvious scenarios here. Taylor considered her options. One, Falcon had brought her out here on a lark to give her a good scare, so she’d jump into his arms when he “rescued” her.

Fat chance. She wasn’t falling for that.

Two, he’d stepped into a crevasse of some kind, which had happened around here. Caves abounded in this area, and it was possible he’d simply disappeared into some hole—or they were nearer a canyon than he’d realized. But she’d have heard noise if he’d rolled down a gorge.

She discarded that notion. If he’d fallen into something, they were both in trouble because he had his truck keys. And she had no idea where she was, so walking back was out of the question. No one knew where they were, so this could turn into a tricky situation.

Next scenario: someone or something had grabbed him. Again, entirely unlikely, as Taylor felt certain she’d have heard signs of a struggle. A man as big as Falcon couldn’t be easily dragged off in utter silence, and there would certainly be tracks.

Still, no matter what, she was in a less than desirable situation.

She could walk back to his truck and hope he hadn’t locked it. There’d been a rifle on the rack, and likely he had bullets close by. She was a proficient shot, so she’d at least be safe.

Taylor swung the flashlight around her one last time, peering at the ground, making certain she didn’t step into Falcon’s possible Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole—and that’s when she heard the definite sounds of all-out war.

She ran to the truck, grabbed the rifle, saw a box of ammo she gratefully snatched several bullets out of, and took off toward the ruckus. She tripped over something—probably an innocent rock—and forced herself to gather her wits enough to load ammo into the weapon. She crept forward, amazed when she spied Falcon fighting with an enormous man at the mouth of a cave, with two women acting as lookouts and one other male waiting to take a swing at Falcon.

Taylor took aim at the second man’s foot, squeezed off a shot. He screamed and clutched his foot, and the two women pulled guns, crouching. When the big man’s attention was caught by his friend’s distress, he hesitated, and Falcon smashed him into a wall. The man slumped to the ground.

She liked these odds better. Taylor came out of hiding and walked into the cave, pointing the rifle at the two women. “Falcon’s going to take your guns, ladies. I’m an excellent markswoman, so my best advice is for you to go sit back there, and take your bleeding friend with you.”

“I thought you’d never come,” Falcon said.

Taylor kept the rifle leveled at the two women, who headed off as she’d demanded. “You said we were ghost hunting. You didn’t say you were looking for trouble in the flesh.”

The big man on the ground began to revive, which seemed to encourage the man who’d removed his boot to stare at his bleeding foot. “You shot off my big toe,” he told Taylor. “You’ll be sorry.”

She shrugged. “You’ve got one big toe left for balance. Keep talking, and I’ll fix that.”

“She’s a tough one,” Falcon told the four glaring at them. “I could have told you that. At any rate, we’ll be going now. Would like to say it’s been a pleasure, Uncle Wolf, but as always, it really hasn’t.”

He dragged Taylor from the cave.

“They’re going to follow us,” she said, gasping as they ran.

“It’s okay. I’ve got some discouragement.” He fired a few rounds from a gun she hadn’t realized he was carrying, so Taylor concentrated on getting to the truck.

“Give me your keys,” Taylor said. “I’m driving.”

“I like a take-charge woman.” Falcon tossed her his keys and they jumped into the vehicle. Taylor shoved the key into the ignition, roared the engine to life and took off, praying no shots hit their tires or windows.

“This date didn’t turn out the way I’d planned,” Falcon said. “It’s usually a little more exciting.”

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Take me to the ranch,” Falcon said. “My family will fix me right up.”

She hit the main road, barreling toward Rancho Diablo. “Whatever you say.”

“You know you want to go out with me again.”

He was incorrigible. “Did I hear you call that man ‘uncle’?”

“Yeah. Uncle Wolf is the black sheep of the family. Don’t concern yourself with him. We don’t have to invite him to the wedding.”

She tried not to laugh out loud. Falcon was just so ridiculous. “I’m not marrying a man whose uncle tries to kill him.”

“Why not? We make a great team. Has it occurred to you that maybe you’re meant to be my guardian angel?”

Taylor pulled into the Callahan ranch, stopped the truck and looked at him. “You’re bleeding a bit more than your aunt Fiona is used to seeing, I’m sure. Have a towel in the truck?”

“It’s all right. Fiona’s used to a few bumps and bruises. She doesn’t panic.”

Taylor could believe that. Between the six Callahans, and now their cousins, Fiona had probably seen her fair share of scuffed-up men. Taylor followed him into the house. “I guess that’s good.”

“Stick with me,” he told her. “Life is an adventure.”

“You don’t say.” She stared at Falcon, who was bruised and bleeding, but still the most handsome rascal she’d ever laid eyes on. “How could I ever refuse that offer?”

She wouldn’t—and he knew it.

* * *

S
O
AS
FIRST
DATES
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, it was a bit of a bust. Falcon readily admitted that. Still, Taylor had surprised him, even though she was known to be a capable, spirited woman.

He didn’t think he’d made a great impression tonight. Of course he hadn’t. And when Taylor told her mother and Jillian what had happened, he wasn’t exactly going to come off as knight-in-shining-armor material.

“That’s enough henpecking,” he told his brother Galen, who was stitching the split skin above his right eye, where Wolf apparently had delivered a decent shot. “It’s just a little knick.”

Taylor leaned close. “Maybe more than a knick. Better sit still. Your brother’s doing a pretty good job.”

He smirked sourly, but minded the advice. He liked Taylor standing near him, and maybe if he sat still, she’d stay close.

“What did Uncle Wolf want?” Ash handed him a glass of whiskey he didn’t really want, but when Taylor accepted a goblet of wine, he decided to be a good sport, too. Couldn’t hurt to appear social; this was supposed to be a date, after all.

“He shared some dissatisfaction about the treatment he received from Sloan.” He glanced over at his brother, who shrugged. Sloan was uncharacteristically mellow, despite the reference to Wolf kidnapping Kendall months ago.

Kendall smiled at Taylor. “Did Wolf have his dynamic duo with him? Two women who are generally unpleasant and have a thing for stealing great footwear?”

“Two women and another man. They didn’t inquire about my boots, but honestly, plain brown Ropers might not be their thing.”

Taylor leaned in to look at Galen’s handiwork again, and Falcon caught a whiff of a sweet floral fragrance. He batted his brother away so only Taylor was close to him. “Let’s go for a drive.”

She looked at him, and he felt a tingling sensation way down in his soul.

“Again?” she asked. “Haven’t you had enough adventure for one night?”

“I still want to count some stars with you.” He didn’t have much to offer her, but he was throwing a lasso around hope, anyway.

She smiled. “I need to get home to Mom.”

He hadn’t expected her to say yes, not after what had happened. “You’re brave, you know.”

“I know. Come on, drive me home.”

His brothers shot him sympathetic glances, knowing he was batting zero. Falcon got up, resigned to the fact that she was never going out with him again, and trying to keep his disappointment off his face, which was sore enough at the moment without adding the persona of Droopy Dog to it.

Fiona sailed into the room, full of her customary good cheer. “Hello, everyone!” She enjoyed the chorus of hellos from her family, then glanced at Falcon.

“Rough night?” she asked.

“Perhaps a bit,” he admitted.

“Well, we have those around here,” his aunt said cheerfully. “Good to see you, Taylor. I talked to Jillian today.”

Falcon glanced at Taylor, who was smiling at Fiona. He loved her smile. Just seeing Taylor looking happy made his face feel better.

“I understand you have a big date tomorrow night,” Fiona said, “courtesy of Jillian.”

Falcon’s heart just about stopped. Taylor nodded.

“Not really a date,” she said. “More like a cattle drive.”

“With a state senator’s son,” Fiona said. “That’s big game in these parts.”

The whole room went silent. Falcon could feel his heart jump with a painful, stuttering beat. As if it was dying.

“It was great to see everybody again,” Taylor said. “Falcon, can you drive?”