The doorbell rang. Travis had never been so glad to have his train of thought interrupted. He went to the door, opened it and found a kid in an olive-drab uniform on the porch.
“Morning, sir. I have a delivery for Mr. Travis Baron.”
“Great,” Travis said briskly, signed his name to a receipt and took five bucks out of his pocket. “Thanks.”
He shut the door, shot a puzzled glance at the package the kid had handed him and tore it open. A small vellum envelope, with his name elegantly scripted across the front, fell out.
Travis picked it up, frowned, examined it. He raised it to his nose and sniffed, but no perfume scent clung to the paper. What was inside? Something formal. An invitation? A thank-you? It might be either one, if Alex Thorpe…
Man, he was really losing it! No way the Thorpe babe would write him a note. The only envelope she’d send him would probably blow him to smithereens the second he opened it.
Smiling, he opened the vellum envelope and took out a note-card.
“Oh, hell,” Travis said, and groaned.
Your presence is requested at
The eighty-fifth birthday celebration
Of Mr. Jonas Baron
Saturday and Sunday, June 14 and 15
At the Baron Ranch
“Espada”
Brazos Springs, Texas
RSVP
The script was handwritten and elegant but the message was a bummer. The sender knew it, too. The note, scrawled beneath the RSVP, made that clear.
“Yes, Travis,” it read, “this means you!”
The words were followed by a bold capital C, and the drawing of a tiny heart.
He laughed. Caitlin. His little stepsister was some piece of work. Hard when she had to be, soft when she wanted to be. And, just now, she was going to be tough. This was no invitation, it was notice of a command performance. Just what he wanted, he thought wryly.
The old man, eighty-five? Wow. It was hard to believe. The last time he’d seen his father a year, two years ago, when Catie had conned them all into coming to the ranch for Thanksgiving or Christmas, some sort of holiday, Jonas had looked as tough and spare as ever. He certainly hadn’t looked old. But he was; eighty-five years on this earth said it all.
But the party would just have to go on without him. No way was he flying to Texas in the middle of June for the privilege of subjecting himself to a weekend’s worth of Jonas’s sharp tongue…
A weekend with Catie, and Slade and Gage. A couple of days of reminiscing about the past, of maybe taking a swim down in the creek. Los Lobos style. Travis grinned. Well, Los Lobos style, pre-Catie. In those days, the Baron brothers used to swim bare-assed, proving their manhood by surviving the zillions of bloodthirsty, buzzard-size mosquitoes that swarmed from the banks along the stream.
A weekend like that might just clear his head.
Travis reached for the phone before he could change his mind, hit a speed dial button. Slade answered on the first ring.
“Slade, my man. How you doin’?”
In Boston, Slade Baron plucked a duplicate vellum invitation from the top of his desk and grinned.
“I was doin’ fine, until a messenger turned up at my door this mornin’.”
Travis chuckled. “Our Catie, efficient as always. She even took the time difference into consideration. I’ll bet Gage is lookin’ at this bombshell right about now, same as us.”
“Yeah. Well, I’d have called you, anyway. That auction was last night, wasn’t it?”
Travis frowned. “So?”
“Whoa, Trav, my man, don’t be so testy. “
“I’m not being anything. I just want to discuss this invitation.”
“Discuss it all you like, Trav. I ain’t goin’.”
“I’ll just bet your high-priced architectural clients love that down-home talk,” Travis said, and grinned.
“They’re never lucky enough to hear it, and stop changing the subject. How’d the auction go?”
“It went. Somebody bought me.”
“Lucky lady. She have a name?”
“Alexandra. And that’s the end of the story.”
“How much did you go for? More than the dude from that other law firm? Was this Alexandra good-lookin’?”
“I went for enough, I beat the pants off the other guy, the lady was okay, if you like the type.”
“Oh, my.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, sounds to me as if my big brother struck out for a change.”
“Think again, pal,” Travis said, tossing off the lie with ease. It was better than having Slade pursue the subject, as he damned well knew he would. His kid brother could be worse than a hound on a trail, when he got started on something.
“Ah. So, she’s there with you, huh?”
“You could say that, yeah.”
Hell, it wasn’t a lie. The Princess was inside his head, wasn’t she? As real as a woman could be, without being in a man’s arms?
“Trav, you old dog, you.”
Travis sighed. “Slade, do you think you could get your mind on something else?”
“You really want to talk about this birthday party, huh? Well, there’s nothing to talk about. I’m not going. I already told you that.”
“Jonas is coming up on eighty-five. It’s a milestone.”
“I don’t care if it’s a century stone. Why would any of us subject himself to a weekend of misery?”
“It won’t be so awful.”
“Says you.”
“There’ll probably be a couple of hundred people there. The old boy won’t have the time to chew us up. Besides, I hate to disappoint Caitlin.”
“What’s with you, Trav? It almost sounds as if you’re lookin’ to get out of town.”
Travis shut his eyes. If life had taught him anything, it was that there wasn’t much one brother could hide from another.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind a change of scene.”
“Woman trouble,” Slade said, and sighed.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“I might have known.”
“You? No way,” Travis said, with forced lightness. “Gage and I are the ones who know about women, except Gage doesn’t really count, considering that he’s the only one who’s still married.”
“You’re trying to change the subject, Trav.”
Travis gave a little laugh. “Right. I am. And before you ask, trust me, kid. You don’t want to hear the gory details. Look, about this party—”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but I’m not going. I really don’t have time to go back to Espada right now, okay?”
“That’s that, then. Heck, you’re too big for me to lock in the feed bin anymore.” The brothers chuckled, and then Travis cleared his throat. “Do me a favor, will you? Stay on the line while I phone Gage.”
“Two against one won’t do it anymore,” Slade said, and laughed. “Even if Gage says he’s going, with bells on, I’m not changing my mind.”
“Fair enough, but say ‘hello’ to him anyway,” Travis said, and punched in his other brother’s private number.
Gage picked up on the first ring. “Baby,” he said gruffly, “Natalie, I love you so—”
Travis laughed. “I love you, too, precious,” he said in a high falsetto, “but my husband’s starting to get suspicious.”
“Travis? Is that you?”
“And me,” Slade said lazily. “How are you, bro?”
“I don’t believe this! What are you guys doin’? Havin’ a reunion out there in California? Or are you both in Boston, livin’ it up in that mansion my little brother calls home?”
Travis chuckled. “This three-way brotherly phone call is comin’ to you courtesy of the marvels of modern-day science.”
“And it’s probably the only three-way ever done by telephone,” Slade said, with a wicked grin at the pretty young secretary who’d just brought him his coffee. “Thank you, darlin’.”
“Don’t you darlin’
me, pal,” Travis said, with a mock growl, “or I’ll fly straight to that fancy-pants mansion of yours and beat you up the way I used to, when you were twelve and I was thirteen.”
“Uh-huh. You an’ who else?”
“Me an’ Gage.” Travis grinned. “’Course, it’ll have to wait until the sun gets up in the sky a piece, so my brain starts workin’ right.”
All three brothers laughed. Travis punched the pillows behind him and sat back. He felt better already. There was nothing like shared memories, even the bad ones, and the thought was enough to make him remember the reasons for this phone call.
“Okay, guys,” he said. “I wish to hell we could avoid the topic but it’s time for a reality check.”
“The invitation,” Slade said.
Gage sighed. “You got yours, too?”
“This morning, bright and early, same as Trav.”
“Bright and early is right. Mine arrived at six,” Travis said.
“Yeah.” Slade laughed. “And interrupted you and your guest. Isn’t that right, Trav?”
Travis shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his fist. “Oh, yeah,” he said briskly, and choked out a laugh. “There’s nothing like being awakened with an invitation to purgatory when you, uh, when you, when you’re otherwise involved.”
Gage and Slade laughed. “What a tough life he leads,” Slade drawled.
“I’d expect some compassion from you, kid,” Travis said, and quickly took the conversation elsewhere. “None from Gage, of course. He gave up his freedom years ago.” His voice softened. “How’s my girl, by the way? You still treating her right, or is she about ready to use that pretty head of hers and ditch you for me?”
“She’s fine.”
Travis’s brows lifted. His brother’s tone seemed strained. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Slade said. “You don’t sound…”
“Listen, maybe you guys can horse around all day,” Gage snapped, “but I’ve got things to do.”
“Right,” Slade said, after a minute. “Uh, look, Trav’s already laid out the agenda. What are we going to do about this command performance the old man’s got planned for the middle of the month?”
“Ignore it,” Gage said firmly. “I’ve got—”
“Things to do,” Travis said. “Yeah, I know. And I don’t have any greater desire to go back to Espada for a dress rehearsal of King Lear than either of you guys, but—”
“Lear?” Slade said, sounding puzzled. “Hey, this is Texas we’re talking about, not Stratford-on-Avon.”
“Come on, Slade, you know what this is all about.” Travis frowned and wondered how come he hadn’t seen it sooner. “Jonas is starting to feel mortal.”
“Our father’s figuring on making it to one hundred, and you know what? My money’s on him.”
“Yeah, but I bet the old boy’s looking around, taking stock of that little spread of seven zillion acres he calls home, sweet home, and figuring it’s time he made plans on how to divvy up the kingdom.”
“Well, I don’t need to spend a miserable weekend on Espada to know that I don’t give a damn how he does it,” Gage said gruffly. “You two enjoy the party without me.”
“Hold it right there, pal.” Slade’s voice rang with indignation. “I’m going to be in Baltimore that weekend.”
“Or in the Antarctic,” Travis said lazily, “anywhere it takes to avoid this shindig, right?”
“Wrong. I put in eight weeks on plans for a new bank, and I am not going to—”
“Dammit, Slade…” Travis took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Sorry, kid. I have no right to twist your arm.”
“Forget it. Truth is, I was lying through my teeth. I could get out of the Baltimore thing, if I wanted.”
“Amazing,” Gage said softly. “Three grown men, all of us falling over our own feet in a rush to keep clear of the place where we grew up.”
They talked some more, even laughed a little. Then Travis cleared his throat.
“The thing is, eighty-five is a pretty impressive number.”
“The old man was never impressed by other numbers,” Gage said bitterly. “Your eighteenth birthday. Slade’s two years in grad school.”
“Or your big fifth anniversary party,” Travis said, “but what the hell, gentlemen, we’re bigger than that, right?” Groans greeted the announcement, but Travis was undeterred. “We’re young, he’s old. That’s a simple fact.” His voice softened. “And then there’s Caitlin.”
“Yeah.” Slade sighed. “I do hate to disappoint her.”
“Me, too. But I just don’t see a choice here,” Gage muttered.
“Exactly,” Travis said, in the tone of reason that had made him such a successful attorney. “There isn’t any choice. The way I see it, we have to show up.”
“No way,” two voices said, in unison.
“Look, we’re not kids anymore. Jonas can’t get under our skin and make us miserable.” Travis paused. He was pushing, he knew, but Catie really would be heartbroken if they didn’t show. And, dammit, selfish or not, he needed this weekend with his brothers. “Think of the plus side. We get to swap war stories and put a smile on Catie’s face at the same time. Is that really so much to ask?”
There was a long silence, and then Slade sighed. “Okay, count me in.”
“Not me,” Gage said. “I don’t have a weekend to spare.”
“Gage,” Travis said, “look—”
“No, you look! I’m too busy for this stuff. I have some sensitive things going on here. You got that, or do I have to put it on a billboard in Times…Oh, hell. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. But I can’t go. I just can’t.”
“Sure,” Travis said, after a minute.
“Understood,” Slade said, a beat later. “Well…”
There was silence, the sound of a throat being cleared. “Well,” three voices said, and then there were hurried goodbyes and the brothers all disconnected. Travis waited a couple of seconds, then punched in Gage’s number.
“Listen,” he said, as soon as he heard his brother’s voice, “if there’s a problem on your end—”
Gage, sounding matter-of-fact, assured him there wasn’t.
“Yeah, well, if there should be—”
“I’ll call you.”
Travis nodded, hit his phone’s Off button, then waited for it to ring.
“I called him back,” Slade said, without bothering to say hello.
“Uh-huh. So did I.”
“Something’s wrong, Trav. I’ve never heard Gage sound like that.”
“Yeah. But whatever it is, he doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“Trav? You don’t think there could be trouble between Gage and Natalie, do you?”
“No way. That marriage was made in heaven. Natalie’s wonderful.” Travis’s tone flattened. “She’s not the sort of woman who’d ever make a man jump through hoops. She’s like an open book. No games, no secrets…”
“Tell me about it,” Slade said, with a little laugh.
“They’re all impossible.” Travis leaned his elbows on the deck’s cedar railing. “They run hot, they run cold. A man never knows what to expect.”
“You’ve got that right,” Slade said darkly. “No matter what you say or do, it’s never enough.” He hesitated. “So, are we talking about your ex?”
“No, we’re not. And, before you ask, I don’t feel like discussing it any further.”
“Suit yourself, pal.”
“Slade?” Travis’s voice softened. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, kid.”
He could almost see his brother smile. “Yeah,” Slade said gruffly, “me, too.”
Travis hung up and walked out on the deck. It was a beautiful morning. Bright sunshine, blue sky, and the aqua waters of the ocean rolling out toward infinity. He felt better, now that he’d spoken with his brothers. And he was glad he hadn’t asked a woman to join him here. Whatever else he was when it came to women, he wasn’t a user. He never took mor
e than he gave.
It was too bad the same couldn’t be said of Alexandra Thorpe.
Travis’s expression hardened. Was that what the Thorpe babe did for kicks? Offered a man a glimpse of Paradise, teased him until he went beyond caring, beyond sanity, then turned and walked away?
It was a dangerous thing to do, something that could turn violent if she picked the wrong guy. But she probably chose her victims carefully. They wouldn’t be bar pickups, or men she met in casual encounters. There were too many unknowns that way. She would come on to men like him, ones who were successful and prominent. Men she could toy with but not fear.
His mouth narrowed. He’d never understood it, when men said they knew just what a woman needed, but he understood it now. He could feel the tension twisting inside him again. Calm down, he told himself. Take it easy…
The hell with that. The Ice Princess had picked the wrong sucker this time. Travis went back into the bedroom and reached for the phone.
She wasn’t listed, but he hadn’t expected her to be. Barbara Rhodes was. If she was surprised to hear from him so early in the morning, she covered it well, but she couldn’t disguise her surprise at his request.
“I’m not supposed to do this, Mr. Baron,” she said.
“Of course not,” Travis said pleasantly. “And it shouldn’t be necessary. Ms. Thorpe gave me her address and phone number on a scrap of paper but I managed to misplace it.” He dropped his voice and did his best to sound boyish, and charming. “I’m sure you understand that I wouldn’t want her to know that.”
Minutes later, Travis was in his Porsche, roaring along the back roads toward the canyons high above Los Angeles.
CHAPTER FIVE
HIGH above Eagle Canyon, in a house her grandfather had built and her father, and then her husband, had dominated, Alexandra Thorpe was having breakfast in her garden.
Having breakfast in her garden was a first-time event, one Alex was savoring with almost guilty pleasure.
She had slept badly. She’d tossed and turned and dreamed, though she couldn’t remember what she’d dreamed, only that she’d come awake, heart-racing, somewhere around five-thirty.
Enough, she’d thought firmly, was enough and, since it was so early, she’d come down the ornate staircase of Thorpe House still in her nightgown, then padded barefoot across the cold stone floor of the huge entry hall, to the kitchen.
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