by Tina Leonard
“Do you want me to go?” Aberdeen asked, and Johnny quickly shook his head.
“No. You’ve got enough to do in the next two weeks for the custody hearing.” Johnny stood, going to look out a window over the parking lot. “I think I might sell the bar, Aberdeen.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Why?”
He didn’t turn around. “I think it’s time.”
“Is this because of Shawn?” she asked, hating to ask but feeling she had to. She was aware Johnny had been biting his tongue for the past two weeks to keep from complaining about her ex-husband’s frequent presence. It would be like Johnny to decide to sell the bar and move the newly enlarged family to Timbuktu if he thought he could get rid of Shawn. Johnny didn’t understand her rosy daydreams of romance with Shawn were long evaporated. Shawn was comfortable, someone she’d grown up with, in a strange way.
“No,” he said, but she wondered if he was being completely truthful. “But on that unpleasant topic, is there a reason he’s suddenly hanging around again?”
A flush ran up Aberdeen’s cheeks and neck. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean, or if he has a specific reason for his presence. He says he’s changed—”
“Ugh,” Johnny interrupted. “Changed what? His spots? I don’t think so.”
That stung. Aberdeen blinked back tears. “Johnny, he’s been through a lot. It’s not like I’d remarry him. You know that.”
“I just think it’s not a good time for someone like him to be in your life if we’re serious about getting custody of the kids.”
“I think he’s lonely, and nothing more.”
“You’re not lonely right now,” Johnny pointed out. “You’re busy raising three little girls who really need you.”
“Shawn knows me. He’s a part of my past.”
Johnny turned away. Aberdeen took a deep breath. “So, why are you really thinking about selling the bar? You’ve mentioned it a couple of times. I’m beginning to think you might really be considering it.”
“Aberdeen,” Johnny said suddenly, ignoring her question, “If your Prince Charming rode up tomorrow on a white horse, would you want that?”
“I think by twenty-nine a woman doesn’t believe in fairy tales. The fairy godmother never showed up for me.” She touched her brother on the arm, and after a moment, he gave her a hug. They stood together for a few moments, and Aberdeen closed her eyes, drinking in the closeness.
Just for a few heartbeats, she felt Johnny relax. He was sweet big brother again, not worried, not overburdened by life. She let out a breath, wishing this feeling could last forever.
The sound of a baby crying drifted across the hall. Aberdeen broke away from Johnny, smiling up at him. “Don’t worry so much, big brother,” she said, but he just shook his head.
“By the way,” he said offhandedly as she started to leave the room to check on Lincoln Rose and her sisters. “I’ve got Creed Callahan coming to watch over the bar while we’re away.”
Aberdeen looked at Johnny. It didn’t matter that her heart skipped a beat—several beats—at the mention of Creed’s name, or that she’d thought she’d never see him again. “That’s probably a good idea,” she murmured, going to comfort the baby, wondering if her brother thought he had to play matchmaker in her life. Johnny was worried she was falling for Shawn again. So had he called in a handpicked Prince Charming?
It would be so like Johnny—but if he was meddling in her life, she’d have to slap him upside his big head.
He just didn’t understand that Creed Callahan, while handsome enough to tease her every unattended thought, was no Prince Charming—at least not hers.
Chapter Six
The next day, Aberdeen wondered if her brother understood something about men that she didn’t. Shawn sat at their kitchen table, watching her feed the girls and wearing a goofy grin.
“I never thought you’d be such good mother material,” Shawn said, and Aberdeen looked at him.
“Why would you think I wouldn’t be?”
Shawn was the opposite of Creed in appearance: blond, lanky, relaxed. Almost too relaxed, maybe bordering on lazy, she thought. Creed was super-dark, built like a bad girl’s dream with big muscles and a strong chest, and not relaxed at all. She frowned as she wiped Lincoln Rose’s little chin. Actually, she didn’t know much about Creed. He’d been ill when she’d seen him. But she still had the impression that he wasn’t exactly Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky.
Not like Shawn.
“You always seemed too career-oriented to want a family.” Shawn sipped at his coffee, and smiled a charming smile at her. “I always felt like you were going to be the breadwinner in our marriage.”
“Would that have been a problem?”
“For a man’s ego, sure. Some men might like their wife being the big earner, but not me. I have my pride, you know.” He grabbed one of the carrots she’d put on the three-year-old’s plate and munched it.
Not much pride. Aberdeen told herself to be nice and handed him Lincoln Rose. “Let’s test your fathering skills, then.”
“I’m a family man,” he said, holding Lincoln Rose about a foot away from him. Lincoln Rose studied him and he studied her, and then the baby opened her mouth like a bird and let out a good-sized wail. “Clearly she doesn’t recognize father material,” Shawn said, handing Lincoln Rose back to Aberdeen.
Aberdeen rolled her eyes. “Have you ever held a baby?”
“Not that I can recall,” Shawn said cheerfully. “But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t learn to like it. I just need practice and a good teacher.” He looked at her so meaningfully that Aberdeen halted, recognizing a strange light in her husband’s eyes. He looked purposeful, she thought—and Shawn and purposeful did not go together well.
“There was no double meaning in that statement, was there?” Aberdeen asked.
Shawn’s expression turned serious. “Aberdeen, look, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” Idly, he grabbed another carrot; thankfully, the toddlers didn’t seem to mind. Aberdeen put some golden raisins on their plates to keep them happy while Shawn got over his thinking fit. “I know you’re determined to adopt these little ladies.”
“They will always have a home with me.”
Shawn nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. Diane is a great girl, but even back when you and I were married, she wasn’t the most stable person, if you know what I mean.”
Aberdeen bit her lip. She didn’t want to discuss this with him. “Diane has a good heart,” she murmured.
“I know,” Shawn said, his tone soothing, “but you’re doing right by these girls. I believe they need you.” He gave her a winning smile. “And I know you’re worried about the temporary-custody situation. I’ve been thinking about how I could be of assistance.”
Aberdeen shook her head. “Thanks, Shawn, but I believe the good Lord will take care of us.”
“I’d like to help,” he said. “I really mean it.”
She looked at him, her attention totally caught. It seemed the little girls in their sweet pink dresses were listening, too, because their attention seemed focused on Shawn. Handsome Shawn with the charming smile, always getting what he wanted. Aberdeen watched him carefully. “What are you getting at?”
“I just want you to know that I’m here for you.” He took a deep breath, and she could see that he meant every word—at least, he did while he was speaking them. “I wasn’t the world’s greatest husband, Aberdeen. You deserved a hell of a lot better. And I’d like to be here for you now if you need me.” He gave her the most sincere look she’d ever seen him wear on his handsome face. “All you have to do is say the word. I’d marry you again tomorrow if it would help you with custody or adoption or anything.”
Aberdeen blinked, shocked. But as she looked into Shawn’s eyes, she realized he was trying to atone, in his own bumbling way, for the past.
And as much as she’d like to tell him to buzz off, she wondered if she could afford to be so callous. She didn’t know how
the courts would regard her. She thought they would see her in a positive light, as a minister, as Diane’s sister, as a caring aunt.
But what if the court preferred a married mother for these children? Aberdeen looked at her nieces. They seemed so happy, so content to be with her. Their eyes were so bright and eager, always focused on her as they banged spoons or pulled off their shoes and dropped them to the floor. Did it matter that she planned to live with them out of the state where they’d been raised? Would she look more stable with a husband? She and Johnny and Diane knew that even two-parent homes lacked stability—but would a court of law see it that way? For her nieces’ sake, maybe she couldn’t just write Shawn’s offer off as so much talk.
“I would hope nothing like that will be necessary.”
He shrugged. “I mean it, Aberdeen, I really do. If you need a husband, then, I’m your man.”
“What happened to the man who didn’t want to be married to the family breadwinner?” she asked, not wanting to encourage him.
He smiled. “Well, I’d feel like things were a bit more balanced since you need me, Aberdeen.”
She pulled back a little and tried not to let anger swamp her. Shawn was pretty focused on his own needs; she knew that. But he was harmless, too—now that she wasn’t married to him, she could see him in a more generous light. Sometimes. Creed’s dark-blue eyes flashed in her memory. She could see him laughing, even as he was in pain from the concussion. The man had a sense of humor, though things hadn’t been going his way. He had a roguish charm, and she’d told herself to run from it.
Because it had reminded her of Shawn. Crazy, she’d thought of him. No more loco in my life.
And yet loco was sitting here right now offering to give her the illusion of stability for the sake of her nieces. Aberdeen swallowed. Maybe she shouldn’t dismiss the offer out of hand. Husband, wife, devoted uncle—not quite a nuclear family here, but close enough.
But it was Shawn. And she wanted something else. “Have some more carrots,” she said absently, her eyes on her nieces. She’d been totally attracted to the cowboy from New Mexico, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, and no matter how hard she’d tried to forget him, he hadn’t left her memory.
But maybe it was better to deal with the devil she knew—if she needed a devil at all.
“DON’T MIND ME,” Creed said three days later, as Johnny looked around the bar one last time. “I’ve got everything I’ll need. I’ll be living like King Tut here.”
“He didn’t live long,” Johnny pointed out, “and I think somebody might have done him in. Let’s hope that your time here is spent in a more pleasant manner.”
Creed grinned. “You’re sure you don’t want me to keep this place open for business?”
“It’s too much to ask of a friend,” Johnny said.
“Lot of income for you to lose,” Creed pointed out. “I’m averse to losing income.”
Johnny laughed. “I am, too. But this has got to be done. You just keep an eye on things, guard my castle and I’ll be grateful for the imposition on your time.”
Creed took a bar stool, glancing around the bar. “You did yourself a good turn buying this place, Johnny. It’s nice. Did it take you long to turn a profit?”
“No. Not really. Building business was slow, but it happened over time. People like to hear Aberdeen preach, and then they remember us for snacks and beverages the rest of the week. It’s a loyal crowd around here.” He took a rag and wiped the mahogany bar with it. “I might sell, you know.”
Creed blinked. “Do you mind me asking why?”
Johnny shook his head. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Creed wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but if Johnny didn’t want to discuss his business, that was fine by him. He wouldn’t want to talk to anyone about Rancho Diablo and all that was happening back home unless he knew that person very well.
Actually, he wouldn’t discuss it with anyone but family. Everything had gotten complicated real fast. He looked around the bar, trying to see himself with some kind of business set-up like this, and failed.
But he’d always think of it kindly because it had been his inn in the wilderness. If he hadn’t come here—
“Here you go, sweetie,” he heard Aberdeen say, and then he heard feet coming down the staircase. He watched the stairs expectantly, wondering how he’d feel about seeing her again. Certainly he hadn’t stopped thinking about her. She was a pretty cute girl, any man would have to admit. In fact, probably lots of men noticed. But she was a prickly one. She would never have fitted into one of Aunt Fiona’s marriage schemes. The woman was spicy and probably didn’t have a maternal bone in her body.
Still, he waited, his eyes eager for that first glimpse of her.
She made it into view with a baby in her arms, holding the hand of a tiny toddler and with a somewhat larger toddler hanging on to her skirt as they slowly negotiated the staircase. Creed’s face went slack, and his heart began beating hard in his chest. Three little blond girls?
“Holy smokes,” he said, “you guys have been keeping secrets from me.” He got up to help the small girls make it down the last few steps so they wouldn’t face-plant at the bottom of the staircase. One shrank back from him, wanting to get to the landing herself, and one little girl smiled up at him angelically, and his heart fell into a hole in his chest. They were sweet, no question.
And then he looked up into Aberdeen’s blue eyes, and it was all he could do not to stammer. “Hello, Aberdeen.”
She smiled at him tentatively. “Hi, Creed. So nice of you to come look after Johnny’s bar.”
He caught his breath at the sight of those eyes. She was smiling at him, damn it, and he couldn’t remember her ever being soft around him. It had his heart booming and his knees shaking just a bit. “It’s nothing,” he said, trying to sound gallant and not foolish, and Aberdeen smiled at him again.
“Oh, it’s something to my brother. He said you’re just the man he could trust to keep his bar safe.”
Creed stepped back, nearly blinded by all the feminine firepower being aimed at him. “It’s nothing,” he repeated.
She gave him a last smile, then looked at Johnny. “We’re ready for the road. Aren’t we, girls?” She looked at Creed. “I’m sorry. These are my nieces. We’re going to Montana for a custody hearing.”
“Custody?”
She nodded. “I’m filing for temporary custody of the girls for now. And then maybe later, something more, if necessary.”
The smile left her face, and Creed just wanted it back. “They sure are cute,” he said, feeling quite stupid and confused, but the last thing he’d ever imagined was that Aberdeen Donovan might one day be the mother of three little girls. He didn’t know what else to say. Clearly, he didn’t know as much about these folks as he’d thought he had. He’d best stick to what he’d been hired for. “Well, I’ll keep the floor nailed down,” he said to Johnny, his gaze on Aberdeen.
“I’ll check in on you soon enough.” Johnny helped Aberdeen herd the girls toward the door. “If you have any questions, give me a ring on my cell. And thanks again, Creed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“I appreciated you saving my life,” Creed murmured, letting one of the tiny dolls take him by the hand. He led her to Johnny’s big truck, and watched to see that she was put in her car seat securely, and then he waved as they drove away, his head whirling.
“Three,” he muttered. “Three small, needy damsels in some kind of distress.” He headed back inside the bar, shell-shocked. Aberdeen had never mentioned children. Of course, they’d barely spoken to each other.
At the moment, his swagger was replaced by stagger, and a rather woeful stagger at that.
“I kissed a woman who’s getting custody of three children,” he said to himself as he locked up the bar. “That’s living dangerously, and I sure as hell don’t want to end up like Pete.”
Or do I?
Chapter Seven
> A couple of hours later, Creed was lying on the sofa upstairs, nursing a brewski and pondering what all he didn’t know about Aberdeen. He was certain he could still smell the sweet perfume she wore, something flowery and clean and feminine, like delicate lilies and definitely not baby powder from the three little darlings—when he heard a window sliding open downstairs. The sound might not have been obvious to most people, but since he and his brothers had done their share of escaping out of windows in the middle of the night, he knew the stealthy sound by heart.
And that meant someone was due for an ass-kicking. He searched around for appropriate armament, finding Johnny’s available weaponry lacking. There was a forgotten baby bottle on the coffee table. A few books were stacked here and there, mostly addressing the topic of raising children.
This was a side of Aberdeen he had totally missed. Creed vowed that if the opportunity ever presented itself, he might ask a few questions about parenthood, a subject he found somewhat alarming. He glanced around the room again, but there wasn’t a baseball bat or even a small handgun to be found. If Johnny had a gun, he probably had it locked in a drawer now that he had small angels terrorizing his abode. If Creed had children, he’d certainly have the world’s most secure gun cabinet with all things that go pop safely locked away.
He was going to have to make do with his beer bottle, he decided, and crept down the stairs. There he saw his uninvited guest rooting around in the liquor bottles like a martini-seeking raccoon.
And then he spied a very useful thing: a long-handled broom. In the dim light, he could barely make out a shadow investigating the different choices the bar had to offer. The man seemed in no hurry to make his selection; apparently he was a thief of some distinction. When he finally settled on a liquor, he took his time pouring it into a glass. Creed wondered if olives speared on a plastic sword, perhaps a twist of lemon, might be next for his discerning guest.
The thief took a long, appreciative drink. Creed picked up the broom, extending the wooden handle toward the intruder, giving him a pointed jab in the side. His guest dropped his beverage and whirled around, the sound of shattering glass interrupting the stillness.