The Lost Sheenan's Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 6) (22 page)

“Or at least that’s where I should be. I was the baby born in 1982.”

She’d been right. She’d got it right. “You
are
a Sheenan! I knew it, I knew—” She broke off seeing Shane’s expression. “I’m sorry. I’m ruining your big reveal.”

His brow furrowed. “You knew?”

“I figured it out today.”

“How?”

“You look so much like Brock…you fight like Trey…you’re witty like Troy…” Her voice faded. “Should I not have figured it out?”

He didn’t answer that, instead asking, “Do you think the others know?”

“No.” Her shoulders twisted. “I don’t think they’ve spent enough time with you. I have. And I’ve watched you with them. You have many of the same mannerisms—”

“Even though I wasn’t raised with them?”

“Must be in your DNA.” She paused, marveling a little at what he was telling her. She’d thought he seemed familiar. She’d felt strangely comfortable with him. But to discover it wasn’t her imagination and that he really was a Sheenan…

“Have you known this entire time?” she asked.

He left the couch and crossed to the fireplace where he picked up one of the pinecones on the stone mantel. “Yes.”

“Did you know before you leased the house?”

“Yes.”

She slowly exhaled, beginning to see the bigger picture. “That’s why you wanted to lease their house. Not because it was close to the Douglas ranch, but because it was the Sheenans’.”

He took a second to answer. “From the book perspective, I could have lived anywhere in Paradise Valley—maybe even in town, in Marietta—but as someone who always wondered what it was like to be a Sheenan, yes, I wanted to be there, in the home I never had.”

She winced inwardly. He hadn’t spoken coldly or sarcastically, and yet the words were painful to hear. He’d grown up so very alone, while the rest of them had been there, together, a family. “How did you find out you were a Sheenan?”

“When I discovered there were two birth certificates. The original and the amended one.”

“Sheenan was the name on the original.”

He nodded.

She couldn’t imagine what that discovery must have felt like. “How old were you when you found out?”

“Late twenties. I needed a new passport and had to request a birth certificate and the clerk asked if I wanted both.” He saw her expression and shrugged. “The clerk was new. She didn’t know as she’d never encountered an amended certificate before and so that was the first real ‘break,’ and it was a big one.”

“Knowing you, you didn’t just go okay, there’s a name, that’s who I am. I’m sure you did research.”

“A lot of research, including a DNA test. The test is quite reliable.”

“Who did you test?”

“Troy.”

“How?”

“I hired a private detective to get the DNA sample. Troy does a lot of appearances and meetings out of his office in San Francisco. The PI followed him and was able to get a Starbucks coffee cup Troy had discarded.”

“You tested the cup, and Troy was a match.”

“A ninety-nine percent match, and since Troy and Trey are identical twins, at least two of the five Sheenans are my full-blood brothers.”

Something in his tone brought her up short. “You don’t think the others are?”

He hesitated. “It’s not my place. I don’t feel right speculating.”

“But that’s what you do. That’s the whole nature of your work.”

“This is different.”

He didn’t say more. His jaw was set and he looked resolute. She knew that face. It was the Brock-Troy-Trey stubborn face. The one that said they were done negotiating, done playing nice. How fascinating that he had it, too.

She gave him a long look. “You don’t want to hurt him, whichever one he is.”

“I spent my life an outcast. I’d never do that to someone else.”

“Maybe…he…would want to know?”

Shane was silent, considering this, and then he shook his head. “No. In this case, I don’t think so. They’ve had enough grief and loss. They’ve had more than their fair share of pain. I’m not here to cause pain. That’s not why I went to Marietta. It wasn’t what I wanted to do.”

She stared at him, somewhat dazzled and amazed. “
This
is the book you need to write. This is a story all of America—”

“No.”

“It’s fascinating—”

“Won’t do that to them. They are entitled to their privacy. No one needs to know all the Sheenan secrets.”

“What about yours?” she asked, thinking it incredible that he’d been here nine months and yet he’d never said anything to any of them. “Why haven’t you told them?”

“I wanted to get to know them a little bit.”

She frowned. “But when were you going to tell them? Before or after they evicted you?”

He smiled grimly. “I wasn’t sure I’d even tell them. It all depended on how things went. It all depended on who they were.”

She heard something in his tone that made her sit a little straighter. “You still don’t like them.”

“I still don’t know them.” He left his position by the fireplace and paced the room. “Arriving here last spring, I only knew what I’d discovered in my research. They were a wealthy, prominent Paradise Valley ranching family dating back to the 1880s. The Sheenans owned not just one huge cattle ranch, but two, with the eldest Sheenan son, Brock, having bought his own place years earlier. William Sheenan’s wife, Catherine, died in the summer of 1997—it was an incurable illness, that’s all the papers said—and had been buried in a private ceremony at the small cemetery in Cherry Lake, Montana, and Bill died late March 2014 and was buried at the cemetery here in Paradise Valley.”

“They weren’t buried together?”

He shook his head. “But discovering that piece, the burial at Cherry Lake, was important. That’s when I knew I’d found the right family, the right Sheenans, and bits of story and memory came together. My grandmother had told me that my mother used to bring her other children to a family cabin at Cherry Lake. My grandmother said twice a year she’d sneak away from the others to come see me.” He drew a deep breath. “And this is that cabin. This was hers, Catherine Cray’s.”

Astonished, she started to stand and then sat back down. “Did you know that when you rented it?”

He shook his head. “I hoped. I didn’t know. It wasn’t until I arrived today and saw the small wood sign hung on the back door, Cray Cabin, that I was sure.”

“Does the cabin feel familiar? Do you recognize anything being here?”

“No. I hoped I would, but nothing resonates.”

She knotted her hands, hearing his disappointment. He so badly wanted a memory…something to tie him to his mother and his brothers…to the past he’d lost…

“Why don’t you reach out to Brock?” she asked. “Tell him who you are and what you know. Maybe he’ll remember something. What is the age difference between you?”

“He was born in 1975. He’s seven years older.”

“So he
could
remember his mother taking you all to the cabin and then leaving them to go see you.”

“Or he could just think she’d gone for groceries.”

“At seven, yes, but you said this went on throughout your childhood…for four years…? By eleven he had to suspect something.”

Shane stopped pacing and shoved a hand through his dark long hair, pushing it from his forehead. “I’d hoped,” he said, his voice pitched low.

She felt his anguish and the critical words that had rushed to her lips disappeared.

How could she criticize when he’d struggled and suffered so much as a child? How could she second-guess his decisions when he’d pieced this much together on his own? There had never been anyone there for him, not after his grandmother’s death, and she saw for the first time why he was really here, in Montana.

Not for a murder investigation.

He’d come to find his family.

He’d come to find himself.

Her eyes burned and she drew a deep breath to ease the aching in her chest. He’d probably come hoping to discover that he belonged. Carefully, and as gently as possible, she said, “Shane, they can’t accept you if they don’t know who
you
are.”

His broad shoulders shifted, a careless dismissal, and then he walked out of the cabin, out through the front door, into the night, letting the old door bang behind him.

She was right.

Jet was absolutely right.

And yet nothing ever quite worked the way one expected.

He’d come to Crawford County with hopes—high hopes—and in the past nine months he’d learned all over again that expectations were bound to lead to disappointment.

To be honest, he hadn’t even thought he had any expectations when he arrived late last March looking for a place to live.

He’d told himself he wasn’t attached to this family, or even the outcome of meeting them. He wasn’t a Sheenan. He wasn’t part of them. All he wanted were facts. Information. He just wanted to understand why he’d been given away. That was all.

But it wasn’t true.

It was a lie he’d told himself. The Douglas story was just an excuse to come to Montana. The real reason he was here was to unravel his past.

And he’d nearly done that now. Nearly, but not quite.

The door opened and closed, he didn’t turn around, not wanting Jet to see how raw he was…how frustrated he remained. He’d come to terms with his mother. But he still didn’t know what to do about his father or brothers.

The father was gone. Dead. But the five brothers? They were very much alive.

S
hane made dinner—a
simple chicken and pasta dish—with groceries he’d picked up at the market earlier in the day. They had wine and salad, too, and it was all tasty and satisfying, but Shane was distracted during the meal, and Jet didn’t press him for conversation. To be honest, she welcomed the quiet, needing to process everything she was learning about him, and the Sheenans.

Jet had come to know Brock as well as anyone not in his inner circle, but she couldn’t imagine how Harley’s husband would react when confronted with the news that he had a missing brother. Was it something he’d known or suspected? Or had Catherine managed to keep it a secret from everyone?

Either way, Jet hoped Brock would be positive and welcoming. It would be important because as the eldest, he also wielded the most authority, but as a loner, Brock might not be pleased to have Shane on his doorstep.

At bedtime, Jet very much wanted to spend the night with Shane. She didn’t want to sleep alone, not when he was so close by, but when their goodnight kiss became sinfully hot, Shane drew back, again demonstrating tremendous control.

“This is exactly how mistakes get made,” he said, his deep voice pitched low, regret in the husky tone. “I want you so much, babe. You have to know that.”

“I do.”

“Then we have to hold off until it’s right.”

She tried to smile but failed. “You are seriously disciplined.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“Will I?”

“That serious discipline will pay off nicely in bed.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Oooh. Sounds interesting.”

“Even better, it feels so good.”

Harley called Jet
the next morning while they were having breakfast at a cute little restaurant in downtown Cherry Lake. “This has gone on long enough,” Harley said wearily. “Everyone’s upset. It can’t continue—”

“What’s happened now?”

“What do you think has happened? Jet, you’re staying at the Sheenan family cabin in Cherry Lake, and it’s seriously disturbing. First the ranch house and now the Cray cabin!”

Jet slid out of the restaurant booth and stepped outside to finish the call. “How did you find out?”

“The booking form. I get copied in on reservations after the property manager accepts payments.”

“This isn’t our issue, Harley. We have to let Shane and the Sheenans sort this out, and none of you have even given him a chance.”

“Oh, I think he’s had plenty of chances, but booking the Cray cabin without telling anyone who he was? Staying at another Sheenan property when he’s been given notice to vacate the ranch house?”

“He paid to stay.”

“That’s not the point, Jet, and I don’t have the energy to do this with you now. I’ve been up all night with the baby. He’s having night terrors again, and I’m so tired. Tired of having to defend you. Tired of taking heat for you. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Then don’t. I can take care of myself.”

“Right.”

“I can.”

“So what is the deal with you and Sean Shane Finley? Are you sleeping together?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“So you are.”

“No. Not yet. But hopefully soon.”

“Oh, Jet.” Harley’s sigh was heavy across the phone line. “I promised Mom and Dad I’d protect you.”

“I’m almost twenty-five, Harley. You guys have to let me grow up.”

“We love you.”

“And I love you, and Mom, and Dad. But at my age, Harley, you were already married and a new mother. Let me do what I need to do.” When Harley didn’t answer, Jet added, “But I think this is less about me than it is about Shane.”

More silence.

Jet drew a slow breath. “I love him, Harley.”

“You only met two weeks ago!”

“Give him a chance.”

“I can’t.” Harley’s voice cracked. “The guys are at the ranch house now, packing up his stuff. They’re throwing him out. Jet, it’s over. He’s gone. When you guys come back today, he’s being chased out of town.”

Shane knew something
was wrong when Jet left the table, but her expression when she returned was nothing short of heartbroken. “That was Harley,” she said huskily, sliding back into their booth.

He hated seeing her so upset. He hated how she was still in the middle. It wasn’t fair to her. It never was. He blamed himself for starting this, but knowing her now, knowing how she made him feel, he’d do it all over again, given the chance. “I gathered.”

Her hand shook as she reached for her coffee cup. “They don’t want you back.”

She gulped the coffee. His coffee had cooled so hers must be lukewarm at best with all the cream she’d added to it. She took another quick drink, and then another.

“That’s nothing new,” he said calmly, trying to soothe her.