“Maybe after you make me a hot chocolate,” Diego said, his expression comically angelic. “Is there whip cream?”
“Not a restaurant, bud.” Cruz laughed.
“August up?” Axel asked.
“Good morning to you too,” Catalina replied, stung by his lack of manners.
Axel hung his hat on the hook, took off his boots and headed down to August’s wing of the house.
“The furniture reminds me of Legos.”
“Legos!” The idea of hot chocolate abandoned, Diego ran across the room to explore the module furniture.
“Clever to have furniture you can configure different ways,” Cruz said. “And I love the variety of colors and patterns. Mix and match.” She found a skillet and started laying out the slices of bacon. “But I gotta admit it’s kind of spooky that everything here is new and never used. It’s like the house has been waiting for someone to come home.”
“You’re here,” Catalina said, wondering when and if she’d get an explanation.
“As are you.” She smiled.
Touché.
They finished cooking breakfast while Diego zoomed different furniture cubes around the great room.
Axel strode down the hall, looking grimmer than usual.
“Good morning.” August limped out behind Axel, jeans on but unbuttoned and a T-shirt dangling from his back pocket. He held the wrap for his ribs and his sling in his left hand. “I heard a rumor about coffee.”
“It’s delicious.” Cruz held her mug up as if toasting him.
The bacon was just starting to sizzle, and she turned on the burners for both the pan for the eggs and the griddle for the pancakes. “Let me help you, August,” Cruz said, putting down her coffee. “I’m in the medical field.”
“I already offered,” Axel bit out.
“I can do it,” Catalina said quickly feeling suddenly like she was the UN.
Cruz instead stayed at the stove to turn down the heat a little and then she picked up her coffee and brought some scissors to Diego, who was clawing at the shrink-wrap with enthusiasm but little progress.
“Is this too tight?” Catalina asked as she matched up the Velcro on the medical wrap for his ribs.
“No, it’s the perfect tension.”
“I’ll help you with your shirt,” she said, pulling it out of his back pocket. It was a T-shirt for a Mumford and Sons concert they’d seen at a weekend rock festival. She’d treated August to the show and bought him the T-shirt. They’d camped and made love in a tent, and she’d been the happiest she’d ever been.
She couldn’t meet his eyes when she eased it over his head and his arm through the sleeve. If it hurt, she couldn’t tell. He was stoic, and she could feel his gaze burn through her, willing her to look at him.
“Pants,” he said softly, his breath a warm puff of air.
“August,” she denied, and hated how her cheeks heated. She was nearly thirty-two and definitely far from a virgin.
“It’s you or her, and I prefer you.”
She was being ridiculous. She had undressed him hundreds of times—usually with reckless abandon. So she gathered her fortitude and reached for the buttons.
“Although a certain part of me would behave better if Cruz helped,” August mocked. “Sorry about the no underwear. I couldn’t get them on and chose to focus on the jeans.”
“Not the first time you’ve gone commando,” she said softly.
The tilt of his lips made her tummy flip.
“August,” she said keeping her voice quiet, and her hands made quick work of the buttons, but she couldn’t ignore the feel of the long, hard length of him as her fingers brushed along the denim. “I wanted to tell you—”
“Did you get a CT scan?” Axel demanded.
“No need,” August answered blithely. “What did you want to tell me,” he encouraged Catalina.
“Never mind.”
Cat took a position by the espresso machine and began to pull shots. She felt a little like she was chickening out, but she’d learned long ago she should pick her battles. And she and August had yet to resolve anything so she was not ready to take Axel head on. August could have that pleasure.
Axel’s gaze warmed as it drifted over Cruz, who leaned against the pool table, long legs stuck out, crossed at her ankles, and her expression definitely held challenge, amusement and a hint of caution as she deftly took scissors and sliced away plastic on what Catalina thought could be attached to the cubes to make arms or backs to the configurations.
She tossed her dark head and her hair fanned back over her shoulder like a beautiful silky blanket. Axel’s attention held. Cat could feel the tension and the heat from across the room. Axel and Cruz were throwing off enough pheromones that it was a good thing no one had a match. The entire house would explode.
“Ignore them, Cat,” August cut in. “We’ve our own past we need to deal with.”
“No,” she said hastily steaming milk. “The past can stay there.”
“Like that ever happens.” He cast a dark look at his brother. “Must be genetic. Besides, where’s the fun in that?” he whispered like a bad angel on her shoulder. And then he blew over the top of her very full, frothy mug and some foam splattered on her nose and the corner of her mouth.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Catalina hissed.
August grinned. His dimple that had always held way too much sway over her libido flashed. He leaned forward and kissed her nose and let his lips and tongue do a quick exploration of her mouth.
“Believe it. Delicious. And the answer to your first employment demand is yes,” he said, his blue eyes alive with determination and his jaw set, belying his casual voice and casual stance. “But the second one…well, that’s not so clear-cut or easy to control, so we’ll have to see, Cat. Welcome to Verflucht, partner.”
“August,” Axel said. “A word.” Axel headed down the hallway that led to his wing of the house, and even though he’d taken off his boots outside and hung his hat on a peg by the door, he still looked every inch the determined and pissed-off cowboy.
Clearly, he expected August to follow as he didn’t pause or look back.
Diego watched with wide eyes, his mouth shaped like an O.
“I have a feeling he wants more than one word,” August said. “He always does.”
Catalina nearly offered to go with him. But August was an adult, and she and Axel had never really gotten on. She wasn’t sure if he’d been jealous of the close bond she’d once had with his mother or that she’d seen him vulnerable after his brother’s death when she’d stepped in to take care of his toddler brother and help with the cooking, cleaning, and gardening since his mother was too consumed by grief and his father worked the ranch from pre-dawn to dark to avoid facing anyone. Maybe it was just her family name. The Wolfs and Clemmens had never seen eye to eye. But she did know that she’d never felt that Axel liked her.
She hated that, years later, it still bothered her—a little.
“Send a rescue party when breakfast is ready,” August said cheerfully, but she could hear the tension in his voice and see it in his body.
*
Even though his ribs and shoulder hurt like hell and his head pounded like a drum circle, August followed Axel down the hall to their father’s old office.
Axel opened the reclaimed wood door—which had cost a fortune to make it look like a vintage, weathered barn door—and stopped so suddenly that August nearly ran into him.
Axel took in the new room: their father’s and grandfather’s desk that August had the designer refurbish, the twelve by twelve Texas Western Star throw rug in black and gold, and the plush, distressed leather couch still on a pallet and shrink-wrapped for shipping. He’d ordered a similar couch and wide chair for his office in his wing of the house, only his was a warmer ‘saddle brown’ whereas Axel’s was ‘espresso’ to match his mood.
August took a deep sip of his latte. The warmth and milk soothed him where he was hurti
ng and felt hollow.
“Am I in trouble?” he asked and slouched against the wall, trying to look casual when he felt anything but and hoping that taking weight off his knee would ease the pain. “Going to get the belt? Not that Dad ever did that, but Cat’s dad did more than a few times.”
Yeah, he lit that match and tossed it on the fuel-soaked kindling of Axel’s mood. Always better to face trouble head on. He and his brother had been avoiding and dancing around each other for the past few years.
“Is that why you’re hiring her? You feel sorry for her?”
Axel excelled at pissing him off.
“Of all the women you could have called to play nurse, why her?”
“In case it escaped your notice, my entire management crew is in the hospital. Two have fairly serious injuries that will take a long time to recover from. And Catalina is an award-winning winemaker.”
“Catalina’s only a stopgap?”
August hissed air between his teeth. “She’d never go for that,” he insisted. “I’m not asking her to disrupt her entire life for a few months. Winemaking doesn’t work that way. It requires continuity, consistency. It’s art and science.”
“It’s a beverage,” Axel fired back.
August ignored him, but damn, his older brother made it hard. “Replacing a winemaker is not the same as replacing a ranch hand. Winemakers weigh in on how the vineyard is managed all season, when and how it’s picked, as well as on the processing, the aging, the blending. They are the ones who build a taste, a brand for the wines. I can’t just rotate people in and out. A winemaker sets the taste and tone for the entire brand.”
Axel glared at him, arms crossed, his eyes dark blue glinting steel. “So you’re just pushing your original crew aside because they were injured working on your tasting room after hours because your construction crew refused to work more overtime after they’d focused on building your apartment first so you could live in town instead of the ranch where you spent however many hundreds of thousands of dollars redoing a house where nobody wants to live.”
“It’s not like that at all.” August pushed off the wall and his latte sloshed over his hand. “Don’t dismiss this tragedy. Don’t dare to insinuate that my employees’ injuries bother me only to the extent of the hassle of replacing them. You are not the only businessman in this family. You don’t have any moral high ground over me.”
He felt like his head was going to explode. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.
“I built the apartment because you wouldn’t live in the house,” he burst out.
Didn’t Axel understand anything? He had wanted them to live at the house. Brothers. Family. It was long past time. Anders would be coming home soon—at least August hoped so. The three Wolf brothers could make their lives here on the ranch. Anders would be coming into his share later within the year.
“I don’t have anything to do with your decision,” Axel said, his tone dry as Texas July dirt.
“Jesus, you are as stubborn as Dad and Grandpa combined,” he bit out. “Is it that big of a stretch to think that we can actually live in our own house?”
“I’m not stopping you, but since you want to talk about this, I’d like to add that I think you wasted money on the house since no one is living here.”
“Yet.”
“I’m not living here ever,” Axel said, “and I doubt you will either. Be real, August. You’re going to swagger around pouring a chardonnay or whatever a few times and then move on to the next idea.”
“Not true.”
Axel didn’t know him at all.
“I know you. I pay attention. You’re here for a week or two at most before you fly out of here for another few weeks; so no, I’m not taking your ‘let’s all live together as brothers’ act that seriously.”
“I have other businesses I have to check in with, and they are in other states,” August objected. “So yes, I will travel. But Last Stand is my home now.”
Axel practically snorted like the angry bulls he used to ride.
“So you will be busy traveling about, leaving Catalina ensconced on the ranch in a position of power over a large portion of our land.”
“She will be my winemaker, yes. And she will work with the vineyard manager. I hope Pete will come back when he’s well enough.”
“How long until Bill Clemmens shows up with his sons and starts taking advantage of his daughter’s position? Five minutes. You’ve handed him a gift—something he’s fought me over for years and Dad before that. And his father before that. You’ve played into his hands and you won’t be here to protect your interests or mine or Anders’. He’s twenty-five this summer.”
“That is not fair to Cat,” August breathed. “She’s not like Bill.”
“He’s her dad. Her blood. You’re a fool, August. An arrogant fool.”
Axel looked as movable and impressed as granite.
“You have no say in who I hire for Verflucht. Cat’s an incredibly skilled winemaker. I couldn’t find a better one.”
“I’m not questioning her skill. I’m questioning her loyalty.”
“You have no right to be suspicious of her. She is not her father.”
Axel made a dismissive sound. “You do realize that you’re playing right into Bill Clemmens’ hands.”
“How so?” August demanded.
“He’s been trying to horn in on our land for decades. Just as his father did before him. And now you’re bringing Cat here to play winemaker.”
“Play? She is a winemaker,” August practically yelled. His brother could always wind him up the fastest. “She’s a damn good one.”
“But you didn’t hire her initially.”
Trust Axel to get to the heart of the matter.
“You know, by hiring Cat, letting her have free rein over our land, perhaps offering her a percentage of the profits to sweeten the deal since you passed her over the first time,” Axel’s eyes bore through him, and it was all August to do to not squirm. “You’re giving Bill Clemmens a gift. He’ll have access. He’ll have information. He’s wanted to gain more access to water for years only not pay it. You’ve just given him more to fight about and maybe even a piece of our land.”
“Cat’s not like her dad. I hired her, not him.”
“Same thing. A Clemmens is a Clemmens. And a Clemmens always means trouble.”
“You’ve never given her a chance.”
“And you’re giving her too many.”
*
Catalina made two more lattes and a hot chocolate and then helped Cruz finish breakfast, but her mind was on what was likely happening in the other room. She knew August had always chafed under Axel’s rule, but they were nothing like her brothers who’d often fight until bruised and bloody. She’d heard her brothers still regularly got tossed out of bars and had taken up cage fighting for extra cash.
How was she related to anyone Clemmens? And to think she’d been so hurt and isolated as a child. She’d been lucky they’d mostly ignored her even though it hadn’t felt like that at the time.
And yet she was considering August’s offer. A fantastic career opportunity. And a better financial opportunity than she’d get anywhere else because August had bank and ambition and a refusal to do anything half-assed. But it was in Last Stand.
And her father would come around. And he would definitely want something.
“I like this house better than the other house, Mom,” Diego said as he sat on the countertop and added blueberries to the pancakes.
“Don’t get too used to it,” Cruz said. “We are either going to find a rental with Shell and her new husband or on our own, buddy. We’re just here for a night or two—maybe until the Bluebonnet Festival next weekend when there are hotel rooms available, but I bet we can find something that works sooner.” Cruz plated the bacon and finished the eggs, adding a little cheese, green onions and salsa.
Cat’s stomach rumbled. When had she last eaten? And how could she eat now with so much on her m
ind?
“But I want a house,” Diego chimed in.
“Why are you looking so short term?” Catalina asked, forcing her thoughts to Cruz and Diego instead of her own worries about taking or not taking the job. Could she really work closely with August again and keep everything professional and platonic? How often would he be around? How much would he want to be involved? And did she have the strength to resist the inevitable temptation?
Or worse if he no longer wanted her.
You don’t want him to want you.
But she was lying to herself.
And that was yet another problem if she took the job. Even if she resisted August, the job would be consuming. August would be consuming. Would she find the strength of will to not only ignore him, but also to move on—make time to date? She wanted a family. A chill ran through her. She was almost thirty-two. Not old, but possibly by staying in Last Stand she would be dooming her chances to be a mother.
Not that dating in the Willamette Valley had worked out all that well for her. But August? No. Too much water had flowed under their bridge.
“I just graduated from a surgical PA program,” Cruz said, dragging Catalina’s thoughts away from her broody sulk. “I’m interviewing for a couple of jobs in Austin and San Antonio, but I need to earn some money quickly so I’m here for six or eight weeks. To fill in for a maternity leave. Possibly a week or two longer if the group needs vacation coverage. Pancakes done?” she asked.
Diego gave two thumbs up then jumped off the counter, grabbed a pancake from the large pile and tore it in half, and tilted his head back to feed the pancake into his wide-open mouth.
Half of it fell on the floor.
“Axel needs a dog,” Catalina mused.
“I’d love a dog,” Diego said chewing.
“Do you want to drag the Wolf brothers from what looked like a brewing knockdown, drag-out fight so they can eat or shall I?” Cruz asked.
“I’ll go,” Catalina said. She watched Diego eat and laughed. “You did a nice job as sous chef,” she told him.
A Bride for the Texas Cowboy Page 8