by Tina Leonard
“I can live in South Dakota, if you’re not keen on being here,” he said, struck by the sudden thought that maybe he was in the wrong place. Heck, he was a traveling man—he could go where she wanted to.
“Dante,” Ana said slowly, “I tried on the magic wedding dress that your aunt Fiona—”
“I knew it!” Dante turned to stare at her. “You were crying when you left the house the other day! Because you’d tried on that thing!”
“I wasn’t crying exactly—”
“I know, I know, bodyguards don’t cry. Okay, so you had sun in your eye. What happened up in that attic? Because when I went up there, everything looked just fine to me.” At least for a couple of minutes, anyway. But he wasn’t about to share that. “So you actually put the dress on?”
She nodded, and his face split into a grin. “You like me, Ana St. John, you’re crazy about me, and you want me like chocolate cake. You wouldn’t have been trying out the fit of the magic wedding dress if you weren’t thinking about me.”
Ana looked away. “It’s not very gentlemanly for a man to crow about a woman’s feelings.”
“Oh, I’m crowing, all right. I’m going to crow louder.” He pulled her into his lap, kissing her until she was breathless. “You’re just dragging this out. I am your knight in shining armor, and I think you know it.”
She moved back out of his lap. “Actually, you’re not, Dante. I didn’t see you when I put the gown on.”
“Of course you didn’t, doll. I didn’t go up there until you’d left.” He saw no problem with that whatsoever. “But if I’d known you wanted me around, I’d sure have been there.” He frowned, struck by a thought. “I thought it was bad luck for a man to see a woman in a wedding gown. There’s some superstition about that. I think it’s like a black cat crossing your path. You don’t want to see a woman in a wedding dress, at least if you’re a die-hard bachelor. I believe that if you see a bride, you might end up with one.” He considered the notion. “Of course, I’m okay with that. I don’t believe much in magic and superstition, and elves and gnomes and fairies and things.”
She shook her head at him. “You don’t understand. I didn’t see you.”
Oh. She was trying to tell him this was about her and not him. He supposed he was a bit of an attention hog; he’d been trying to figure out the wedding gown thing from the guy’s perspective. “Like I said, I wasn’t there. But if you want to put it on again, like, next Saturday, I’ll be there with my best jeans and dress jacket on.” He was pretty hopeful he could convince her. She belonged to him, and vice versa, he just had to close the deal. Wipe away whatever cute little female worries and oogie-boogies were bugging her. It was the man’s role, and he was good at that. “So, Saturday? We can send the jet for your family. I heard my cousin Rafe just updated his aircraft.”
This was easier than he’d thought it was going to be. If all she was worked up about was the gown, they could fix that. He’d thought it was the baby-making problem—and if that had been her issue, he’d been prepared to do a little bargaining.
She put her palms on either side of his face and stared into his eyes. “Dante, the legend of the magic wedding dress is that a woman is supposed to see the man of her dreams, the only man for her, when she puts it on.”
He took her hands in his, kissed them, thinking madly. Okay, now he had a problem because he hadn’t heard that angle. “That’s just some of Fiona’s mumbo jumbo.” But he wasn’t certain. The damn dress had disappeared from his hands. He couldn’t dismiss that. “I wouldn’t worry your pretty head about that if I was you.”
She gave him a look of disgust. “I’m not worrying my pretty head, thank you. You’re doing all the worrying. What I’m telling you is that you are not my prince.”
“Huh. I swear I never thought a woman would ever say that to me.” He didn’t like it, either. “And to think I thought you were holding back for a baby.”
She blinked. “A baby?”
“Yeah. I thought you wanted a child and wasn’t sure I was up to the task.” But he felt icy fingers of fear jab at him. If Ana hadn’t seen him—and though he wasn’t one to go in for nonsense, Fiona’s nonsense sometimes had kick—maybe he couldn’t give her a child.
And that was what she wanted more than anything.
“I do want a child.”
“Very normal for a woman your age and in your circumstances.”
“Which are?”
“You know.” He waved a dismissive hand, wanting to get back to the problem at hand. This subject was leading them down the wrong path. “Hanging out with the Callahans is enough to drive any woman to want a child. The place is just chock-full of hormones. And you’re closer to thirty than twenty. Even I’ve started dreaming of a baby bootie Christmas, and trust me, I never wanted a kid before.”
“It’s not about my age, thank you.”
The ire in her voice bypassed him as a horrible thought arose in his mind. He sat up straight. “Hey, you didn’t see another man, did you?”
“I—”
He looked at her intently, his heart jumping around. “Did you?”
“Well,” Ana said slowly, not meeting his gaze, “yes, I did, as a matter of fact.”
* * *
HE HAD TO LET ANA GO, in the end. There was nothing else to do. She hadn’t seen him when she’d tried on the dress—stupid rag, he should have burned it or made a quilt out of it, and if it ever returned, he was going to make that garment regret its fairy-tale shenanigans.
He hadn’t had the heart—or the guts—to tell Ana that the story was even worse—that when he’d actually been in the same room with the thing, it had disappeared.
Left him holding the plastic bag it belonged in, actually.
He hadn’t dared to confess that he and the gown had bad karma. Matters were certainly dicier than he’d expected. So he took her to the airport and said goodbye, his heart tearing into a thousand shreds.
He might have tried to overrule the idea of a wedding dress governed by magical intentions, except it was gone. So he clearly had to let the woman of his dreams go.
But it just felt wrong. In his heart, he knew Ana and he were magical together. Wasn’t that all that mattered?
Maybe not in the mystical world that was Rancho Diablo. But he’d never in his wildest imaginings thought that a woman would leave him because of a spellbound gown.
He went home to face his aunt, who no doubt remained upset that he was responsible for the destruction of her treasured heirloom. He was out of the ranch raffle—no chance for that now. But that wasn’t what he’d change in a heartbeat, if he could.
He’d change magic into marriage.
Chapter Eight
When Dante returned, Chief Running Bear sat in the kitchen snacking, and no doubt plotting, with Fiona. “Hello, grandfather,” Dante said. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”
Lately the chief showed up more often than the once-a-year at Christmas his Callahan cousins claimed was his pattern before. Maybe it was because there was more family here for Running Bear to juggle. If there was anything his grandfather and aunt lived for, it was steering the family ship.
The chief nodded. “We have much to discuss.”
“What’s on your mind?” Dante sat on a bar stool next to his grandfather and gratefully accepted the hot coffee and thick chocolate chip cookies Fiona slid his way. “Thank you, Aunt Fiona.”
“You’re in the doghouse with me, nephew,” she said, sailing off out the door.
“Whew.” Dante drank the coffee, shook his head. “That is one unhappy aunt.”
Running Bear sipped his tea and said, “You cursed the magic.”
“I—” Yes, he had. He’d sat in this very kitchen and hollered unkind words up the stairs. “Look, I’ve never been a big believer in tch
otchkes and thingamabobs.”
His grandfather nodded. “I know.”
“And I really don’t believe that the dress disappeared. It had to have been an optical illusion.” His resolved stiffened. “Fiona has a lot of tricks in her very deep bag.”
Running Bear shook his head. “Do not doubt the unseen.”
“Yeah, well.” What could a man do? He had faith—he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived the dry, endless days of war he’d experienced. “Dresses just don’t disappear. But I’m sorry Aunt Fiona is upset.”
“What about your woman?”
Dante sighed, didn’t try to pretend he didn’t know what his uncle was talking about. “Ana left. Said I wasn’t the right man for her.”
“She had a vision.”
“I don’t really—” Dante nodded. “Okay, she did have something like that. At least she said she did. Whatever happened, it really spooked her.” He remembered her running past the window. He’d known she was crying. “I don’t believe in visions and spectral heebie-jeebies. But I do know that Ana’s vision was real to her.”
“Yes. You weren’t in it. She had an empty vision.”
“Not for lack of trying on my part.”
“Do you know what happened?”
Dante shook his head. “She said she hadn’t seen me. She said she saw another dude, but I’m not sure if she was just trying to throw me off. If there really were some other man, I think I would have...”
“Would have what?”
He’d started to say, I would have lost my mind, but he was made of sterner stuff than to lose his cerebral advantage over a rival. “Well, I would have told her man that I wasn’t giving her up.”
“Yet you weren’t in her vision.”
“Yeah.” Dante studied his coffee. Then the picture went crystal clear. “Oh, hell! You’re trying to tell me that she didn’t see me because she didn’t want to! She doesn’t believe that I’m her heart’s desire, or her perfect prince, or whatever!” He looked at his uncle triumphantly. “Because she doesn’t believe it in her heart.” He leaned toward his uncle, his voice conspiratorial. “Have the Callahan brides figured out the trick?”
“Trick?” Running Bear looked at him with puzzlement in his dark eyes.
“Yeah. The Callahan brides see the man of their dreams because they want to.” This was so simple! Fiona had cooked up the perfect autosuggestive story to set the Callahan ladies’ hearts to fluttering with imaginary conjurings of what they wanted. “So all I have to do is convince her, and then Ana will try the dress on again, and she’ll see me.” He felt very good about figuring this all out except for one tiny, terrible detail. “But the dress is gone. Didn’t even leave behind an enchanted thread I could—hell, I don’t know—whisper pleas and prayers over.”
“More like you should whisper something else,” Running Bear said, standing.
Dante raised a brow. “Such as?”
His grandfather shrugged, grabbed a cookie for the road. “You’re not suggesting I apologize to a dress, are you? Because that’s really... I mean, that’s further out on a limb than my imagination can take me.” He was so confused he didn’t know what to think.
“We shall see many things in the future here,” his grandfather said. “Saying goodbye is easy. Maybe other words are more difficult.”
He left, closing the kitchen door behind him. Dante got up to follow, opening the door just in time to feel a whoosh of air as a dark black shadow raced past him, galloping toward the canyons and disappearing into the night.
His grandfather had been riding a black Diablo mustang.
Which was crazy, because spirit horses were just...spirits. And yet, spirits were the heartbeat of Rancho Diablo. Why had he said he didn’t believe in mystical things? He was surrounded by them.
Because he’d lost that faith when he’d been fighting, and was no longer that innocent youth who’d gone off to war.
And yet he knew better, in spite of himself.
His grandfather had tried to hand him the key to the puzzle. Somehow, the lock was just out of Dante’s reach.
* * *
“I CAN’T FALL FOR DANTE,” Ana told her mother, Lynn, as she helped clean the small store her parents owned in Buffalo Gap. “Not more than I already have, anyway. I promised myself I would never get married. At least not until I was a bit older. I like my career, and I don’t want that to change. Truthfully, I never wanted to have to tell a man I had a female issue that might affect our marriage.” She hadn’t wanted to be defective—as a bodyguard, strength was her calling card. She thought about all of this for a minute while sweeping the dust from the floor into a dustpan. “Dante is the kind of man women dream of. Dark and handsome and strong. Intelligent. Courteous.”
Lynn smiled. “You’re in love.”
“I am. I just don’t want to be.”
“So you’re here until you get over it.” Lynn moved some pies and cakes onto the counter, placing them under glass covers. “You can stay as long as you want. I can use the help.” She looked up with a smile. “You’ve been here three weeks. I’m glad you finally want to talk about it. I was beginning to worry.”
Ana was so glad to be home. Of course it was the Christmas season now at Rancho Diablo. Fiona would be deep into the festivities, stringing her lights, baking up a storm. The ranch took on a glow of romantic beauty that was all its own. “I do miss the ranch, and the Callahans,” Ana said wistfully, thinking about the little twins she’d been trusted to protect. “Those are the most adorable little boys. I guess they’ll really be walking a lot now.”
Lynn smiled. “Your father needs help putting up the wreaths. Make sure he gets the ribbons straight, will you?”
“I will,” Ana said, but then she knew it was time to finish telling her mother the truth. “Mom, I’m expecting.”
Lynn hugged her. “I know, honey.”
Tears popped into Ana’s eyes. “How did you know?”
“Well, the lack of appetite was either love or morning sickness or both. The ginger ale you’ve been drinking signaled that I was going to be a grandmother. Your father and I have been about to burst waiting for you to tell us.”
“I don’t know what to do, Mom. I’m so happy. Shocked, but happy. I really believed I would have much more of a problem getting pregnant.”
“Well, sweetie, when one doesn’t use protection—”
“Oh, we did. Trust me, Dante is a man who leaves nothing to chance. Although I didn’t tell him I couldn’t have a baby.” Ana enjoyed her mother stroking her hair for another moment, and then stepped away. “I always felt so guilty that I was an only child and I might not be able to give you grandchildren.”
Lynn smiled. “I know. I figured it would happen when the time was right. And it appears that the time is right, now.”
Maybe it was. She didn’t know. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell Dante that the condoms were defective.”
“From what you tell me, he seems like a pretty confident man. Something tells me he may not be all that shocked, and will even love bragging about it.” She put a hand over her heart. “You need to tell your father. It’s been driving him mad, not being able to say anything. We didn’t want to ask too many questions.” Lynn’s eyes twinkled. “But here’s a little secret that may interest you. Your father bought a new pony. He’s in the corral, waiting to be named by the new bundle of joy.”
Ana couldn’t help smiling. “I love you, Mom. And Dad.”
“We love you, too. No matter what you decide, we support you.”
Ana went to help her father and give him the good news. As she passed the window, she glanced outside, spying a tall, muscular cowboy on the street. Her heart jumped, and she looked closer, but of course it wasn’t Dante.
She was surprised how fervently she’d w
ished that her Callahan cowboy had come to get her.
* * *
“IT WAS A LARK, REALLY,” Fiona said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble by having Ana try on the wedding dress! I was attempting to be helpful.” She sat next to Chief Running Bear on the hood of the military jeep she used often on the ranch. They perused the canyons, companionable from knowing each other so long. “I felt certain she’d see Dante and realize that he was the man for her!”
“Get another.”
Fiona gasped. “Another magic wedding gown? Where would I get one of those? They don’t exactly grow on cacti!”
He shrugged. “It’s the legend the brides loved. That’s the magic they believed.”
Fiona blinked. “Are you saying I should buy just any old wedding dress, and tell the Callahan brides it’s magic?”
“Is there another way?”
“Yes,” Fiona said, “my mischievous nephew can tell me where he hid it. He’s not getting one single acre of that ranch land until he does!”
“We didn’t purchase the twenty thousand acres,” Running Bear reminded her. “You might recall the farmer decided not to sell. To us.”
“The boys and Ash don’t know that,” Fiona muttered. “I have no problem spinning that web as long as I can. And that farmer may decide to sell eventually.”
“My son Wolf put too much pressure on the farmer to sell. Wolf wants that land so he can legitimately stay close to Callahan land, wait for the right moment to strike.”
Fiona’s blood chilled. “It’s never going to work. He’s never going to find your other two sons and their wives. Jeremiah and Molly and Carlos and Julia are forever safe.”
“Wolf has a long memory. He’s paid well by the cartel. He is my black sheep, and has no intention of being anything else. He has time to wait for the right moment.”
“I’m so sorry,” Fiona murmured. “We always hope our kids will grow up and be productive people with character. I wish he’d fall into a hole!”
Running Bear laughed ruefully. “I don’t understand his choices. We are like night and day.”