Brianne remembered the name. “Another brother.” This was the one who had moved out of state. She tried to keep a tally in her head. “How many brothers did you say you had again?”
“Too many,” he bit off. Taking her hand, Kent opened the front door and walked in. “Hank, come out and show your ugly face.” No one answered. Puzzled, Kent looked around the narrow hallway. “What’s with all the lights? When did you become afraid of the dark and why am I paying for it?”
He stopped short when he walked into the living room. Hank was there, all right, but he wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t unoccupied.
His brother’s arms and lips were wrapped around a slip of a female. All Kent could really see of her was a torrent of hair the color of a summer sunset.
“Hank?” This time, there was a note of confusion in Kent’s voice.
Breaking away reluctantly, Hank finally responded and looked over at his brother. Eleven months apart, with Kent being the older, they looked more like one another than either looked like Will or Quint.
“Yeah, it’s me.” He turned the woman around so that she stood with her back to him, facing his brother. Hank tucked his arms around her, more to give her silent support than from the thrill of possession. Pride filled his voice as he ushered the woman forward. “Kent, I’d like you to meet Fiona Reilly.” From behind, he kissed her hair. “The woman I’m going to marry.”
Kent looked at Hank, too stunned to utter a word. Of all of them, it was Hank who had been the real ladies’ man. Hank who’d always had his choice of every unmarried woman under the age of seventy within a fifty-mile radius, and Hank who had to all but beat them back with the proverbial stick.
Hank had always had such a good time being in demand, Kent figured he was never going to become serious enough to settle down. Obviously, he’d figured wrong.
“Does Ma know?”
Looking at the woman in front of Hank more closely, Kent decided that she was a pretty little thing. Far less flashy than the women Kent was accustomed to seeing in Hank’s company.
There was an air of subtle class about her. He figured that was good for Hank. But marriage? That was a whole different matter and was going to take some getting used to.
“Not yet.” Hank flushed slightly. “I thought we’d stop here first before we tackled breaking the news to her and Dad. Fiona, this is my brother, Kent.” His eyes shifted to Kent’s companion. Nice, he mused. Very nice. Kent’s taste had obviously improved. Who was she? “I would introduce you to the lady with him, but he hasn’t told me her name.”
Hank looked at his older brother with unabashed curiosity. He rarely saw Kent in the same room with a woman, much less in his own house. She had to be someone special to Kent for that to happen.
Brianne didn’t wait for Kent to find his tongue. She stepped forward, her hand out to Hank. “I’m Brianne Gainsborough. My father’s a friend of your father’s.”
“Sure.” Hank made the connection immediately. “Brian Gainsborough.” He took her hand and was impressed with the heartiness of her handshake. “Dad talks about him all the time.”
Kent narrowed his eyes, looking at Hank. Since when? “He does?”
Hank laughed. “You wouldn’t know. You never listen to anything that doesn’t have the word cattle somewhere in the middle of it.” He tucked his arm around Fiona. “Kent runs the Shady Lady for my folks.”
She looked a little uneasy, Kent thought, studying the woman his brother had brought into their midst. Thinking about it, he had to admit he felt a little sorry for her. It had to be a scary prospect, meeting your future in-laws for the first time.
“They let me play cowboy,” he told her deprecatingly.
Brianne looked at him, surprised at the note of humility in Kent’s voice. This was a first.
“Don’t let him fool you. Kent works hard at running this ranch,” Hank said, his attention focusing on Brianne. Just how did she figure in all this? It didn’t take someone with twenty-twenty vision to see that there was some kind of tension going on between them. Welcome back to the living, brother. “Are you here for a visit?” he asked Brianne.
She slanted a look at Kent, wondering just how much he was willing to tell his brother. “In a manner of speaking. I’m photographing Kent.”
Hank couldn’t visualize Kent posing. He did a disappearing act every time their mother tried to take a group photograph at Christmas. “Why and how many lenses have you broken so far?”
Brianne mimicked his tone perfectly as she answered. “For an article in a series on the vanishing cowboy I’m doing and none.”
Hank pretended to be amazed. “Must be using more powerful equipment than I thought.”
Unwilling to stand around listening to this discussion, Kent walked over to the nearest lamp and turned it off. He roamed the room, turning off other lights. All they needed was one. “Why are all the lights on?”
“Oh, that,” Hank had almost forgotten. Being with Fiona tended to make him forget a great many things—except how much he loved her. “I was just showing Fiona around your house, letting her see Will’s handiwork firsthand.”
“It really is a lovely house, Kent,” Fiona said.
Kent shrugged. He never gave or received compliments with any sort of grace or flair. If he’d had his choice, he would just as soon ignore both ends altogether. “It’s all right.”
“Don’t let Will hear you being so careless about his work,” Hank warned. “Will’s very touchy about his designs,” he confided to Fiona, then grinned in Kent’s direction. “Kent’s just touchy.” He winked at Brianne. “But I figure if you’ve spent more than five minutes with him, you’ve already figured that out.”
“Pretty much,” Brianne allowed. She saw the look Kent gave her. What she’d seen earlier in his eyes was gone. So much for their unspoken plans for the rest of the evening. Restless, edgy, she tried to focus her attention on Hank and Fiona. “So, when are you planning to get married?”
Hank pressed a kiss to Fiona’s temple. “Soon. Very soon.”
If the kiss he’d witnessed when he’d walked in was any indication of the way they felt about each other, Kent figured the wedding should have already taken place—like yesterday.
Kent’s usual wariness had quickly faded when confronted with Fiona’s manner. He saw what he perceived as genuine love in the woman’s eyes whenever she looked at his brother. That was good enough for him.
Funny how he could see things so clearly when it came to other members of his family, yet remained so confused when it came to things that concerned him. Maybe, he thought, that was just the way things were supposed to be.
“Are you going to have the wedding here?” Kent asked Hank. He knew that would make their parents happy, especially his mother. And he had to admit, he had absolutely no interest in going to California. They had nothing there that remotely rivaled anything he could find here.
Hank looked at Fiona for final confirmation before answering. They’d already discussed it, but that was before she’d actually come out here. Maybe the sight of all the trees and endless miles of grass had made her miss home instead.
But Fiona nodded. She could see herself getting married outdoors, beneath a sky so blue it looked as if it had been painted in.
“Seems easier than hog-tying Dad and bringing him down to Southern California,” Hank said.
Kent had observed the exchange of looks between his brother and Fiona. He didn’t care for it Did marriage mean that Hank was suddenly on a short leash? Was that what love did to you? Make you hand over your individuality to someone else?
Maybe he’d been lucky that he and Rosemary had parted company after all.
Kent decided to hold back on his snap judgment regarding Fiona until he got to know her better. Maybe the sweet demeanor that seemed to be her makeup was merely camouflage to throw everyone off.
The way Rosemary’s had been.
Brianne detected definite tension between Fiona and Hank, but only when th
e subject of the wedding arose. “Need moral support?” Brianne guessed.
A light leaped into Fiona’s green eyes, followed by a rueful smile. It was silly to feel like this. After all, she was a grown woman. But while she more than held her own running the thriving catering business she had set up, personal one on ones left her terrified.
“Perhaps,” Fiona admitted, “just a little.”
Brianne had thought as much. “I’m staying at the house for another week. Why don’t we all go over there? They should be finished with dinner by now.” She looked at Kent significantly.
Hank caught the look and wondered again what was going on between his brother and this very sexylooking lady. He turned toward Fiona. “What do you say, Fiona? Feel up to it?”
No, she didn’t, Fiona thought, an iciness threatening to part her from the light snack she’d had on the road half an hour earlier. But putting the meeting off only made things worse.
So, sternly telling herself she needed to be more self-assured than something evolving out of the rodent family, she nodded. “Sure.”
It sounded as if Hank and Fiona hadn’t planned on seeing his parents tonight. Kent looked at his brother. “If you weren’t going to see them tonight, just where were you figuring on staying the night?”
“Here.” The answer seemed rather obvious to Hank. Will had given the place three bedrooms, although why, when it was for Kent, Hank had no idea. “You’ve got more than enough room.”
And then his glance darted toward Brianne, who was even now chatting with Fiona about the architecture of the house, doing her damnedest to put the other young woman at her ease. Hank took an instant liking to her. Looked to him as if Kent had finally gotten lucky, whether he realized it or not.
Turning so that Brianne couldn’t see him, Hank grinned broadly at Kent. “Unless, of course, we would be interrupting something.”
There were times when guarding his space meant keeping out members of his family as well. Right now, Kent hadn’t a clue as to what he was really doing in this situation, so letting others in on it was out of the question. He wasn’t about to share his feelings with Hank. From the lovestruck look in his younger brother’s eyes, all he’d get would be meaningless platitudes about love conquering all and nonsense like that.
Not that the word love even entered into the situation. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure just what word did enter into it.
“No, you wouldn’t be interrupting anything,” Kent assured him. “She just wanted to look around, same as Fiona. For her article,” he added, as an afterthought. He hoped that Hank wouldn’t notice Brianne had no camera with her.
Though she was talking to Fiona, Brianne heard what Kent said to his brother. The sting of irritating disappointment was sharp enough that it almost made her wince. Was he ashamed to admit to his brother that they were going to spend the night together, or just embarrassed?
Or was it that she had somehow misread the signals he was giving off?
No, she was sure she hadn’t. The signals weren’t a mystery.
Only the man was.
She refused to let him see that his complete reversal bothered her in the slightest. If he could shrug her off so easily, she could do the same with him.
Brianne looked at Fiona. She might as well make herself useful.
“Don’t worry,” she assured the other woman. “Mr. and Mrs. Cutler are very nice people.” She slanted a glance at Kent. “They’re so warm, it’s hard to believe that they had a son like Kent.”
His expression was dark as he ushered her out the door behind his brother and Fiona. “About before.”
“Before?” Brianne looked at him innocently. There was no way she was going to let him see that she was hurt. That she’d wanted him more than she’d thought ever possible. That she still wanted him. That was her problem to deal with, not his. “Was there a before?”
Kent pressed his lips together. Maybe this was the way to go. Best to pretend that nothing had gone on between them, that nothing would have gone on between them had the house been empty.
Yeah, right.
But the opportunity to spend the night was gone and maybe that, too, was for the best. You can’t miss what you never had. And she would be, after all, on the East Coast within the week.
He nodded, closing the door behind him. “As long as we understand each other.”
Brianne merely shook her head. “Oh, I understand you, Kent Cutler,” she said, softly enough for only him to hear. “You’re scared.” Scared of feeling, scared of letting yourself go, she thought.
Sarcasm twisted his lips into a smile that failed to reach his eyes. “Right. I’m scared of you. You scare the hell out of me.”
Now that, Brianne thought, was just her point. One that was going to have to strike home before he could ever allow himself to feel anything. “Truer words were never spoken.”
He figured it was safer not to comment on that. Instead, he turned toward his brother. “Mind if she rides with you?”
Hank looked surprised at the request. He wondered if Kent was doing his usual backing-away trick. If he was, he was an idiot.
“Fine with me.” Hank opened the rear passenger door for Brianne.
Smiling her thanks, Brianne very deliberately closed the door again, “I wouldn’t dream of imposing. You two deserve to be alone. I’ll go back the way I came.” She looked at Kent, daring him to tell her she couldn’t. “On Whiskey.”
“You let her ride your horse?” Hank asked, amazed. As far as he knew, Kent never let anyone near the quarter horse.
“Only when he’s on it,” Brianne answered.
Kent scowled. “I can talk for myself,” Kent told her. Why was she always pushing her way into things?
“Not nearly fast enough.” She waited expectantly as he mounted.
Reluctantly, because his brother and Fiona were watching, Kent extended his hand to Brianne. “If you mean that I don’t talk as fast as you do, hell, lady, the wind doesn’t move as fast as your mouth does.”
Hank laughed as he started his car. “I think those two have got the makings of a great couple.”
“Someone should tell your brother,” Fiona suggested.
“Oh, he knows, Fiona.” Hank smiled to himself. And about time, too. “He knows.”
For a woman who was accustomed to the hard life on the range, who had gone through some really rough economic times, during both her childhood and her marriage, his mother cried far too much, Kent thought. She cried whenever they looked at the family album. She cried when she listened to sad music, or watched something sad on television. Once he’d even caught her crying softly while listening to an old tape of them singing Christmas carols when they were kids. That was when he knew she’d never change.
So it came as no surprise to him when she began to cry as soon as Hank had introduced her to Fiona and told them that they were getting married.
Zoe’s eyes sparkled like the diamonds she’d never asked for. Her heart felt as if it was bursting as she looked at her future daughter-in-law. The family needed more women in it. “A wedding. How wonderful.”
Chasing away all of Fiona’s unspoken fears, she opened her arms wide.
“Welcome to the family, Fiona.”
Relieved, Fiona hugged the older woman. Jake added his arms to the tangle, as did Hank. Unwilling to join this human knot, Kent kept his distance and muttered under his breath. These public displays of affection weren’t for him.
Brianne watched the same expression of emotion and felt, just for a second, a touch of envy. She expected it to be gone the next moment.
But it wasn’t.
It just reminded her of something that she’d never had. Something, she assumed, that she probably wasn’t destined to have in the near foreseeable future.
7
“He’ll be here.”
Turning at the sound of the voice behind her, Brianne raised her eyes innocently to Will, looking at him over the rim of her glass. The oldest of the Cutl
er siblings was blonder and more soft-spoken than his brothers. Having gone through two rolls of film already, she’d decided to take a break.
Her expression indicated that she hadn’t the faintest clue whom he was talking about As if she hadn’t kept one eye on the back door the entire time, watching as half the town arrived at the party his parents were holding in what was whimsically referred to as their backyard. “Whimsically,” because to the naked eye it appeared endless..
“Who?”
It had been a long time since Will had been taken in by a pretty woman and Will wasn’t taken in now. Brianne knew exactly whom he was talking about. He’d seen the way she was eyeing the door.
“That backward little brother of mine.” A few feet away, the band that Quint had helped put together for the impromptu party was playing one of the many toe-tapping tunes in its repertoire. Will retired the almost empty glass he was holding to the nearest surface he could find and looked at Brianne. “Dance with me?” He saw her eyes dart toward the back once again. You’re a damn fool, Kent. “Just until Kent shows up, that is.”
No danger of that Kent had mumbled some excuse when his mother had announced she was throwing together this party for Hank and Fiona. It had taken the combined efforts of the Cutlers, including Kent, to pull it off in less than twenty-four hours. But when it came to attending, Kent had drawn the line.
“In that case, you might be forced to dance with me all night,” Brianne warned him, setting her own glass down beside his.
His smile was warm and inviting. Why couldn’t Kent look at her like that, she wondered in silent annoyance. Why couldn’t he be more like his brothers? And why did she have to be attracted to a surly scowl and a kiss that tasted like secret sin?
“I can think of worse fates.” Waiting, Will held his hands out to her.
Brianne could feel the effects of the punch she’d just downed. It had, thanks to Jake, a very real kick to it. The kind that took you by surprise.
A little like Kent’s kiss, she thought sadly.
No, no sad thoughts tonight. There was a party going on and she thoroughly intended to enjoy herself, even if that stubborn bastard didn’t show up.
Cowboys Are For Loving Page 8