Wild West Fortune

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  His brows pulled together. “What?”

  “The publisher,” she muttered. “They’ll find another person to write it. I’m completely replaceable on that score.”

  The door opened and Ben Fortune Robinson stood there, looking as composed and polished as he always did. He was a handsome man, no doubt about it. Gerald made good-looking children.

  She tucked her hand through Jayden’s arm and was glad it wasn’t as tense as she’d feared. “Hi, Ben. I appreciate you doing this.”

  “Ariana.” The other man tilted his dark head. His intense gaze was focused on Jayden, though, as he stuck out his hand. “Ben Robinson.”

  “Not Fortune?” Jayden’s words were a little terse, but he shook Ben’s hand politely enough.

  “Fortune Robinson. Sometimes.” Ben’s lips twisted in an eerily similar manner to Jayden’s. “Depends on how pissed off with the old man I’m feeling,” he admitted honestly. He backed away. “Come in. Everyone’s waiting in the library. Don’t worry, though. My mother and our...father are both gone for the day. We won’t be interrupted.” He pushed the heavy door closed after they entered and led the way through the lavishly elegant house.

  “How’s your wife, Ben?” Ariana asked him.

  The man’s expression lightened measurably. “Ella’s beautiful.”

  “And the baby? Lacey, right?”

  He nodded. “Almost six months old and just as beautiful as her mama.” They’d reached a closed door and he pushed it open. “Here we are.”

  Even though she would have preferred to hang back, the hand Jayden held against the small of her back prevented it and she walked into the library ahead of him. When she’d called Ben to ask for the meeting, she’d told him everything she’d learned. Only because Jayden had wanted it that way. And as she studied the faces of Ben’s seven brothers and sisters, she could tell that he’d also prepped them as well.

  “Good Lord.” Sophie, the youngest of Ben’s siblings, was the first one to speak. “He looks like you, Kieran.”

  “No. The eyes are different.” Zoe, the second youngest, stood up and came over to the doorway. “I think he looks more like Graham.” She extended her slender hand toward Jayden. “I’m Zoe.”

  Even though he was looking increasingly uncomfortable, Jayden shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Thankfully, Ben took charge again as he drew them farther into the library. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

  Ariana hovered in the rear of the somewhat crowded room where Olivia, the third youngest of the eight siblings, was leaning against one of the tall bookcases that surrounded the room. “He does look familiar,” she murmured, more to herself, it seemed, than Ariana. “But not like Graham.” Her brow knit together while across the room, Ben was inviting Jayden to sit at one of the chairs near the couch.

  He sent Ariana a look and she gave him an encouraging nod. “They know about your mother, Jayden. Just ask whatever you want.”

  “Right,” Ben said calmly. He’d been the first one to decide on tracking down however many half brothers and half sisters they had. It had been a unilateral decision that hadn’t always been welcomed among the lot.

  “I don’t know what to ask,” Jayden admitted, a stiff, crooked smile on his lips.

  “Well, tell us about yourself, then,” Ben amended easily. “Ariana said you were in the army for quite a while?”

  “Yeah.” Jayden’s gaze traveled around the room. He took in the collection of priceless books. The original artwork. The statues. “My, uh, my brother Nate—Nathan—was a navy SEAL. Grayson rides rodeo.”

  “Three boys. That was a lot for your mother to handle on her own.” Rachel—the eldest of the girls—gave him a sympathetic smile. Ariana was glad that she’d made the trip to Austin from Horseback Hollow, where she lived with her husband, Matteo. Of all the children Gerald had had with Charlotte, Rachel was one of Ariana’s favorites. She was just so normal.

  “At once, yeah.” Jayden was nodding. He glanced at Ben and Wes. “You guys are twins. You know what it’s like. Only there’re three of us.”

  “Triplets.” Olivia suddenly pushed away from the wall and crossed the room to grab the rolling ladder. She was muttering to herself as she climbed up to one of the top shelves and quickly started pawing through the books there.

  “Olivia.” Zoe was looking up at her sister. “What on earth—”

  “It’s here,” she said. “It’s got to still be here.” She reached out and shoved the ladder over another foot without even bothering to climb off it first. “Ah.” She snatched an album off the shelf. “I knew it.” She tossed the book down to Zoe and quickly came down the tall ladder.

  “Knew what?”

  “Look.” Olivia took the book—Ariana realized it was a small photo album—and flipped it open. She stabbed at the very first picture with a shaking finger as she practically shoved it in Jayden’s face. “Is that you? You and your brothers?”

  His brows pulled together. Ariana could see his temper building and she quickly went over, putting her hand on his shoulder as she looked at the old photograph. It was taken from a distance but the boys were clearly Jayden and his brothers.

  “How’d you get this?” A muscle was working in his jaw, but his tone was at least shy of accusation.

  Olivia sank down on the couch between Rachel and Kieran as if her legs wouldn’t hold her up anymore. Her eyes were glazed with tears. “I found the book in Mother’s study. I was—” She pressed her lips together for a moment, clearly struggling for composure. “I don’t know. Maybe six years old? Mother was furious. She said the pictures were foster kids she and Dad were paying to support. She snatched it away and put it up there.” She pointed to the shelf.

  Even Ben looked shocked. “What? Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”

  “I didn’t even remember it until now,” Olivia said. She dropped her hand and stared at Jayden.

  Kieran sat forward. “Mother knew?” He grabbed the photo album and flipped another page. To another photo. And another. “They’re all here,” he muttered, flipping faster. “Keaton. Chloe. And—” He squinted at their mother’s handwriting beneath a grainy photo. “Who the hell is Amersen?”

  “The au pair’s son. He lives in France. Amersen Beaudin,” Graham provided, looking weary. “Remember Suzette?”

  Wes took the album from his brother and paged through it. “That guy, Nash Tremont, that you have a lead on.” He shook his head when he turned a few more pages. “These ones don’t even have names. What the hell was she doing keeping this all a secret?”

  The question seemed to spur comments from every single one of his siblings.

  Jayden swore under his breath and grabbed Ariana’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  Ben tried to stop him. “Jayden. You don’t have to go.”

  “I do.” He gestured. “I’m sorry. I’ll get used to all of you. In time. But whatever deal you’ve got going right now is about your mother. Not mine.” He suddenly clasped Ben’s shoulder. “I don’t belong here right now. You understand?”

  Ben nodded after a moment. “Yeah. Maybe I do.”

  Jayden nodded. He tightened his grip on Ariana’s hand and he pulled her out of the room.

  He didn’t stop until they’d left the house entirely.

  Only when they were out in the fresh air did he seem to draw in a deep, cleansing breath. “Wacko.”

  Ariana opened her mouth to protest.

  “Not them. Charlotte.”

  “Oh. Well, yes. Maybe so.” The woman clearly had more secrets than even Ariana had imagined.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “What a freaking crazy family. No wonder you won’t say you’ll marry me.”

  “I never said I wouldn’t marry you.”

  “Yo
u haven’t said you will.”

  She pressed her mouth against the distinct cleft in his chin. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it inside her head. “If we end up having a son one day, you suppose he’ll inherit your chin?”

  His head reared back. His eyes searched hers. “I don’t know. I sure like the idea of finding out.”

  Her eyes filled. “So do I.”

  “You’re going to marry me, then?”

  “I’m a little traditional about that sort of thing,” she whispered.

  “Dammit, Ariana. Is that a yes or no? Do I have to get a piece of paper for you to write it down on or what?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  He looked positively frazzled. “Yes, what?”

  She stretched up and brushed her lips over his. “Yes, I’ll marry you. If you think that family is crazy, though, wait until you meet mine. My mother’ll be sizing you up for a tuxedo before we get through the front door. And don’t be alarmed when she calls you a handsome cuss. That’s just a thing of hers. And Dad will want to show you his old Mustang. So if you can’t describe what’s under the hood of a car, we’d better get a book so you can brush up on it first.”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “I can handle a car. A tux, though? I’m not so sure about that.” He closed his arm around her shoulders and directed her toward his pickup truck parked in the long, curving driveway.

  “I don’t care what you wear when we get married,” she assured him. “Except for one thing.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “A ring,” she said adamantly. “No way am I not going to advertise to the entire world that you are off the market.”

  “Sounding a little possessive there, sweetheart.”

  She raised her own eyebrow. “Have a problem with that?”

  His smile was slow. “No, ma’am,” he assured her. “No problem at all.”

  “Good. Now let’s go home.”

  “Yeah. You never got around to turning in your notice at the apartment.”

  She twined her fingers with his, looking up into the face that she knew with every fiber of her being she wanted to look into for at least another sixty years. “I meant Paseo. Let’s go home to Paseo.”

  And they did.

  Epilogue

  The party was in full swing when Gerald slipped in through a rear door.

  He shouldn’t be there.

  But knowing what he shouldn’t do and actually not doing what he shouldn’t do were two very different things.

  Story of his life.

  “Welcome to the grand opening of Austin Commons!” A pretty young woman dressed in red stuck a brochure in his hand before he had a chance to wave her off. “Do you know Mr. Whitfield? He’s the architect of all this.” She waved her graceful arm, meant to encompass the state-of-the-art office complex around them.

  A part of Gerald’s mind stayed focused on the attractive female. He’d spent a lot of years burying himself in the distraction of women. Stopping cold now, just because his whole family seemed to think they knew everything about him, wasn’t all that easily accomplished. The other part of his mind was impressed with the building.

  He honestly wished he could say he’d had a hand in developing Keaton’s skill. Gerald had a healthy ego but not even he could claim credit on that score.

  He took the brochure from the woman and strode through the building. Robinson Tech needed some additional space. He wondered if Keaton would be interested—

  “Jerome?”

  He stopped in his tracks, looking at Kate Fortune. She was the self-proclaimed matriarch of all things Fortune. All things that Gerald Robinson had pushed away a lifetime ago. “I told you before, Kate. I prefer Gerald.”

  The silver-haired woman dipped her head. She was ninety-one but looked younger than his own wife. “I know you did.” She tucked her hand through his arm as if they were old, dear friends.

  Maybe she thought apologizing last year on behalf of the world of Fortunes made them friends. Who the hell knew? Not Gerald, that was for sure.

  He realized she was drawing him into the spacious atrium where at least a hundred people were gathered. He recognized a good portion of them. Many worked for Robinson Tech. Just as many were related to him.

  He swallowed an oath when Zoe spotted him. So much for keeping a low profile. His daughter looked shocked at first, then delighted as she separated herself from her husband, Joaquin Mendoza, and headed his way. Gerald didn’t mind Joaquin too much. He was smart and he doted on Zoe. She’d always been his favorite, so he was inclined to like the man for that reason alone.

  “Daddy.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Her lashes hid her expression. “Is Mother with you?”

  He almost laughed. He and Charlotte presented a united front only when they had to. And if she knew he was at one of his “other” son’s events? That assuredly didn’t qualify. “She’s got one of her charity things,” he answered vaguely. “Who are all the men over there with Joaquin and Alejandro?” Alejandro Mendoza had been more of an acquired taste. Gerald still was getting used to the fact that his daughter Olivia—sensible and pragmatic like him—was engaged to marry the entrepreneur. At least Alejandro hadn’t stolen Olivia away to Miami, though. He wasn’t sure how he would have stopped it, but he would have tried.

  “Alejandro’s cousins,” Zoe was telling him. “They’re the ones going into business with him. I told you about them last week at dinner. Mark, Rodrigo, Chaz, Carlo and Stefan. Don’t tell me you weren’t listening. They’re from Miami, remember? They’re going to be renting space in this very complex.”

  “Of course I remember.” He squeezed her shoulder. He didn’t. But she didn’t need to know that.

  A flash of long dark hair caught his eye.

  Deborah had had hair like that. Even after all these years, he could remember the feel of it in his hands. The scent of it. Of her.

  But the girl with the hair was young. As young as his own daughters. She was that reporter, he realized. The one who’d written all the articles that had so annoyed Charlotte.

  He’d gotten a kick out of them.

  Which, naturally, had annoyed his wife even more.

  But then, what was life without the small pleasures?

  He looked down at Zoe. “Are you having fun tonight?”

  “Of course.” She smiled. Zoe always found something to smile about. It was one of the reasons why it was so easy to love her. She was the antithesis of her mother.

  Zoe’s hand on his arm tightened. “Be nice,” she warned.

  “What?” He followed her gaze.

  The reporter and a tall, steely-eyed cowboy were headed his way.

  Gerald actually felt a knot in his throat. “That’s him?”

  “Jayden,” Zoe whispered. “Yes.”

  The couple stopped shy of them a few feet. Zoe stepped into the void, giving Ariana a hug and reaching up to kiss Jayden’s cheek. Her brother’s cheek.

  “Congratulations,” she was saying. “I just received your wedding announcement in the mail this afternoon.” She laughed musically. “You sure didn’t let any grass grow under your feet.” She held out her hand to Gerald. “Daddy, I know you know her name, but I’m not sure you ever met Ariana. Ariana Lamonte—Oh, it’s Fortune now, isn’t it? This is my father, Gerald Robinson.”

  Jayden’s arm slid around Ariana’s shoulders. “Yes, it’s Fortune,” he said evenly. His eyes stayed on Gerald’s face.

  “It was a small wedding,�
�� Ariana said.

  “From what I understand, everything in Paseo is on the small side.” Zoe’s smile showed in her voice. “Your parents were there?”

  Ariana nodded. “Of course. And Jayden’s brothers and his mother.”

  Gerald tuned in more closely. For more than half his life, he’d been trying to forget Deborah. And he’d failed in every respect.

  “I’ve read your articles,” he said abruptly.

  Ariana looked discomfited. “As it happens, I’ve left the magazine.”

  “That’s a shame. Your pieces were one of the few that weren’t drivel.”

  She smiled faintly, as if she didn’t quite believe him. “Thank you.”

  He couldn’t stop looking at Jayden.

  “You have your mother’s eyes.”

  And those eyes narrowed as if he didn’t exactly appreciate the observation.

  Though why would he, when it came from Gerald?

  He looked at Zoe. “Sweetheart, would you and Ariana excuse us for a minute?”

  His daughter immediately nodded. “Of course.”

  But Jayden shook his head. His arm didn’t budge from Ariana’s shoulders. “There’s nothing for you to say that my wife can’t hear.”

  Gerald hesitated. Not really because he was waiting for Zoe to move out of earshot, but because it took him that long to get the words past the tightness in his chest.

  Maybe he was having a heart attack. It wasn’t a novel idea. He’d just always figured when he went, it’d be in the bed of yet another woman who wasn’t his wife.

  Because all of those women, including his wife, had never filled the spot left by Deborah.

  “I never knew about you and your brothers, Jayden. If I had—” He broke off. If he had known, then what? He hadn’t fought hard enough for Deborah when they’d had their chance. “If I had, maybe things would’ve been different. For a lot of us.”