The Other Brother

by Janis Reams Hudson

  “Aren’t you even a little curious to see where this might lead us?”

  “No. We don’t need to be led anywhere. We do great without kissing.”

  Caleb pulled her close and rested his cheek against the top of Melanie’s head. His arms held her loosely. “You’re right. We’ve always done great, you and me.”

  They had stood this way so many times before. But never quite like this. Today there was more. There was a tension, a new anticipation that hummed between them because now they knew what could happen if their lips met. Melanie both feared and reveled in the warring emotions.

  Caleb raised his head and looked down into her emerald-green eyes.

  “What are we doing, Caleb?”

  “Are we supposed to know?”

  “Shouldn’t we?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe we should just…”

  He brushed his lips across hers.

  Dear Reader,

  We’re smack in the middle of summer, which can only mean long, lazy days at the beach. And do we have some fantastic books for you to bring along! We begin this month with a new continuity, only in Special Edition, called THE PARKS EMPIRE, a tale of secrets and lies, love and revenge. And Laurie Paige opens the series with Romancing the Enemy. A schoolteacher who wants to avenge herself against the man who ruined her family decides to move next door to the man’s son. But things don’t go exactly as planned, as she finds herself falling…for the enemy.

  Stella Bagwell continues her MEN OF THE WEST miniseries with Her Texas Ranger, in which an officer who’s come home to investigate a murder fins complications in the form of the girl he loved in high school. Victoria Pade begins her NORTHBRIDGE NUPTIALS miniseries, revolving around a town famed for its weddings, with Babies in the Bargain. When a woman hoping to reunite with her estranged sister finds instead her widowed husband and her children, she winds up playing nanny to the whole crew. Can wife and mother be far behind? THE KENDRICKS OF CAMELOT by Christine Flynn concludes with Prodigal Prince Charming, in which a wealthy playboy tries to help a struggling caterer with her business and becomes much more than just her business partner in the process. Brand-new author Mary J. Forbes debuts with A Forever Family, featuring a single doctor dad and the woman he hires to work for him. And the men of the CHEROKEE ROSE miniseries by Janis Reams Hudson continues with The Other Brother, in which a woman who always contend her handsome neighbor as one of her best friends suddenly finds herself looking at him in a new light.

  Happy reading! And come back next month for six new fabulous books, all from Silhouette Special Edition.

  Gail Chasan

  Senior Editor

  The Other Brother

  JANIS REAMS HUDSON

  Books by Janis Reams Hudson

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Resist Me if You Can #1037

  The Mother of His Son #1095

  His Daughter’s Laughter #1105

  Until You #1210

  * Their Other Mother #1267

  * The Price of Honor #1332

  * A Child on the Way #1349

  * Daughter on His Doorstep #1434

  * The Last Wilder #1474

  † The Daddy Survey #1619

  † The Other Brother #1626

  JANIS REAMS HUDSON

  was born in California, grew up in Colorado, lived in Texas for a few years and now calls central Oklahoma home. She is the author of more than twenty-five novels, both contemporary and historical romances. Her books have appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and BookRak bestseller lists and earned numerous awards, including the National Reader’s Choice Award and Reviewer’s Choice awards from Romantic Times. She is a three-time finalist for the coveted RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America and is a past president of RWA.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  The fiddler’s bow moved so fast it was little more than a blur beneath the gaily colored Chinese lanterns strung from barn to house and back again. Feet stomped, hands clapped, and couples whirled on the makeshift plywood dance floor. The winter wheat was in the ground, which was enough of a reason to party, but that wasn’t what brought people to the Cherokee Rose ranch in central Oklahoma this early-October night. Cherokee Rose Chisholm’s eldest grandson had taken a wife, and the celebration was in full swing. From farmers and ranchers to bankers to down-on-their-luck cowboys, people from all over the county, the state of Oklahoma and beyond filled the ranch yard to welcome Emily Nelson Chisholm and her two young daughters to the community.

  There was even a rumor that a token Texan or two had shown up. Of course, to an Oklahoman, there was no such place as Texas. All that land south of the Red River was simply known as Baja Oklahoma.

  Texans didn’t like this description much, since they considered the area north of the Red River to be nothing more than North Texas. But what the heck. The annual Red River Rivalry, better known to the rest of the world as the Oklahoma University versus the University of Texas football game, was still two weeks away. For now, the Sooners would let the Longhorns drink their beer.

  That beer was being tapped from the keg by Caleb Chisholm, the middle brother of Cherokee Rose’s pride and joy—her three grandsons. Most people thought of Caleb as the quiet Chisholm. Sloan, the eldest, was outgoing and friendly, kindhearted and always ready to help someone in need. Justin, the youngest, had earned the nickname Wild Man back in high school; it was appropriate, and it had stuck. He liked to party, play practical jokes, and generally have a good time with the ladies.

  But Caleb kept mostly to himself, when he wasn’t trying to keep his two brothers from pounding on each other just for the fun of it. He was steady and dependable, and considered one of the best catches in the county, according to local beauty-shop gossip. He was a quiet man with a sober demeanor that added just a touch of mystery and made his rare smiles all the more powerful.

  He flashed one of those rare smiles now as their nearest neighbor sashayed her way over to his keg of beer in time with the country band knocking them out from the front porch.

  If anybody asked the three Chisholm brothers what kind of woman Melanie Pruitt was, three different answers would come back. She was a cute kid who didn’t know what she really wanted; she wore her heart, usually broken, on her sleeve for all the world to see; and she was a tomboy who wouldn’t think twice about playing along with, or even instigating, a good practical joke.

  From her point of view, Caleb knew, Melanie considered herself none of those things, and all of them. She was right on both points. They’d known her all her life. She was the kid sister they’d never had. She’d been in love with Sloan, cried on Caleb’s shoulder when that had proved to be all one-sided, and helped Justin egg the high school principal’s house on Halloween.

  As far as anyone in the Chisholm family was concerned, Mel was solid gold.

  “Hey, Caleb. Some party.” Her grin curved her mouth but did not reach the depths of those emerald-green eyes.

  This troubled Caleb. Melanie had supposedly been over Sloan for a couple of years now. She had made friends with Emily, and encouraged Sloan to marry the woman. Now she came to the party held in honor of their marriage, and something was bothering her.

  Her gaze strayed, and he followed it. She stared at Sloan and Emily as they two-stepped their way around the dance floor, laughing together as if they didn’t have a care in the world. And to them, they didn’t. Not
this night, anyway.

  “Dammit, Melanie,” Caleb complained. “I thought you were over him.”

  Melanie blinked and looked up at Caleb. Twin lines formed between her eyes. “What? Who?”

  “Who, hell. Sloan.” It was all he could do to keep from shaking her. “You were staring at him like you just lost your best friend.”

  Her eyes widened. “I was not. I wasn’t even looking at him, much less thinking about him.”

  She seemed sincere enough, Caleb thought, but something was definitely troubling her. “If it’s not Sloan, then what’s wrong?”

  Melanie shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

  “Come on, Melanie. This is me you’re talking to.”

  “Okay, I’ll rephrase. It’s nothing I want to talk about, but it has nothing to do with Sloan. You know better than that, or you should.”

  He shrugged. “I thought I did. You’re sure you’re over him?”

  She narrowed those deep green eyes at him. “You’re going to make me mad, you keep asking that. I’ve been over him for years. And even if I wasn’t, look at them.” She waved a hand toward Sloan and Emily on the dance floor. The tall, dark-skinned man and the small golden-haired woman danced and gazed at each other as if they were the only two people in the world. “Even a blind person can see how perfect they are together, how much in love they are. And, Caleb?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not blind.”

  “Got it. Consider me sufficiently chastised.”

  Her lips quirked. “That’ll be the day.”

  “Uncle Caleb, Uncle Caleb, look at us!”

  The cry came from little Libby, Emily’s six-year-old daughter. She and her eight-year-old sister, Janie, were both being whirled around the dance floor by Justin, Caleb and Sloan’s youngest brother. At their begging, Justin had been teaching the girls to two-step for the past week. They had wanted to be ready for the party.

  “Look, Uncle Caleb!” Janie called.

  Uncle. Damn if Caleb didn’t get a great big kick out of that. He couldn’t help but grin. “I see,” he called back. “Looking good, ladies.”

  “Look at them,” Melanie said, clearly delighted. “Inside of a month he’ll have them doing the Cotton-Eyed Joe and the schottische.”

  Caleb laughed. “Month, nothing. Those two are quick. They’ve already just about got the Cotton-Eyed Joe down pat.”

  “You’re getting a kick out of this uncle thing, aren’t you?” Melanie asked.

  “You better believe it,” he said. “They’re angels, both of them.”

  “Oh, look.” Melanie pointed across the dance floor. “There goes your grandmother, with the Methodist minister.”

  “Grandmother loves to dance,” he said.

  “So do you,” Melanie said. “Why aren’t you out there?”

  “I’m on beer duty.”

  “To heck with that. We can get our own beer. Besides, barracuda at twelve o’clock. Bearing down on you with a gleam in her eyes. You’re going to want to dance with me. And I mean right now.”

  Caleb started to turn around to see what she was talking about, but she grabbed his arm and started dragging him toward the dance floor.

  “Don’t look,” she hissed. “It’s Alyshia Campbell.”

  “Enough said.” Caleb took her right hand in his left, put his right hand on her waist and spun her into a fast two-step amid the other dancers.

  Caleb shuddered. Alyshia Campbell, aka the barracuda, aka the shark, the piranha, the pariah and a dozen other names that weren’t so nice. Alyshia knew about all the names people called her. She enjoyed her nasty reputation.

  She was older than Caleb’s thirty-three by at least ten years, and she was married to the local used-car salesman who happily turned a blind eye to his wife’s numerous boyfriends while she turned a blind eye to his. A person couldn’t talk about Alyshia or Jerry Campbell without getting a bad taste in the mouth. And for some reason, Alyshia had apparently decided Caleb was going to be her next conquest, although word was that she hadn’t dumped her current one yet.

  “Thanks,” he said to Melanie with feeling. “I owe you one.”

  Melanie shook her shoulder-length hair back and laughed. “You better believe you do.”

  Caleb arched a brow. “Are you saying that dancing with me is a hardship?”

  “Of course not. You know you’re one of the best dancers around. But I saved your bacon, pal. For that, you owe me.”

  “Looks like your rescue was short-lived. Here she comes.”

  Melanie glanced over her shoulder and saw Alyshia bearing down on them with a predatory smile on her surgically enhanced face.

  “May I cut in?” Alyshia purred.

  Melanie smiled. Caleb had never seen that particular look on Melanie’s face before. For a moment, he wondered which woman was the more dangerous. Then he shook off the feeling. This was Melanie, his friend.

  “Go away, Alyshia,” Melanie said dismissively. “This one’s taken.” Without missing a beat, Melanie slid her hands to the back of Caleb’s head and pulled him down to meet her mouth.

  The shock was instantaneous. A sharp jolt of electricity. Intense heat, flames licking from the inside out. Arousal, hard and fast. The air turned hot and heavy, and with it, Caleb thought that if Melanie wasn’t feeling what he was feeling, his life would never be complete.

  Startled, he tore his mouth from hers and stared.

  Melanie blinked up at him, her breath rasping. “Oh…my…God.”

  Caleb swallowed. “Uh, yeah.” He swallowed again. “That was…”

  She swallowed. “Yeah.”

  “Come on, you two.” Alyshia smirked. “Get a room, for heaven’s sake.”

  Caleb and Melanie both ignored her.

  Alyshia shrugged and walked away.

  “What just happened?” Melanie asked, a dazed look in her eyes.

  “I…I don’t know. An explosion, I think.”

  Around them friends and neighbors swirled across the dance floor, feet stomped, voices laughed, the band blared.

  “Yeah.” Melanie looked away, around, anywhere but at Caleb. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Yeah. That would explain it.”

  They stared at each other another long moment, then Caleb looked away and shuffled his feet. “Anyway, uh, thanks. For getting Alyshia off my back, I mean.”

  “Hey,” Melanie said with a big fake smile. “What are friends for? Oh, look, there’s Daddy. See you later.” She escaped Caleb and the dance floor so fast, she was pretty sure she left a vacuum in her wake. What else could a woman do when she’d just done the unthinkable and kissed her best friend? And not just kissed, but Kissed.

  It wasn’t her fault, she told herself. That lightning bolt from the sky shouldn’t have happened. The kiss had been meant as a joke. A ploy to get rid of Alyshia. A teasing gesture between friends. Not…not…not fireworks.

  “What’s the matter with you?” her father groused. “You look like you just got thrown by a wild bronc.”

  Leave it to her father to describe perfectly what she was feeling. “Uh, no,” she managed. “Just a fast whirl on the dance floor.”

  He patted her on the shoulder. “Well, you have a good time, little girl. I’ll find you later.”

  “Daddy,” she said as he turned to walk away.

  Ralph Pruitt stopped and looked back at his only child. “Yeah?”

  Melanie opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll find you when I’m ready to go home.”

  As he walked away, she bit the end of her tongue to keep from calling out a warning to him: No gambling.

  Maybe she was getting wiser, keeping her mouth shut this time. Lord knew the warning would have fallen on deaf ears. Gambling was an addiction with her father. He used to go to meetings up in Oklahoma City, and the people there, fellow compulsive gamblers, had been a help. But when Melanie’s mother left them a couple of years ago, Ralph had given up the meetings. He’d been
gambling ever since.

  Call her a cynic, but if her father would win his bets more often she wouldn’t worry so much. But Lady Luck favored Ralph Pruitt only often enough to keep him coming back. His losses were mounting, and the ranch finances were hurting because of it. It was that, rather than any upset over Sloan’s marriage, that had been troubling Melanie when Caleb had questioned her earlier.

  Now, in addition to worrying about her father and the ranch, and wondering what her mother was up to, there was that kiss to torment her. She ought to be able to laugh it off and forget it, but for now it loomed large in her mind.

  By 3:00 a.m. that damn kiss still occupied Melanie’s mind. It filled every nook and cranny and wouldn’t let her sleep. She had tossed and turned so much that her bed looked like a disaster zone. By sunup, so did she.

  She did her best with a cold shower and makeup, but nothing could disguise the sleepless night she’d just spent.

  Her father obviously noticed, if the sudden height of his eyebrows was any indication, but, with uncharacteristic wisdom, he said nothing as he drove the two of them to church.

  For as long as Melanie could remember, her father had driven the family to church every Sunday morning. Only calving or foaling could keep him home, and neither of those was taking place this day. Still, it seemed odd that it was only the two of them in the pickup, though it had been just the two of them for more than two years now, since Melanie’s mother had left them.

  She should be here, Melanie thought. Her mother should be here with them on the way to church. She shouldn’t be off in sunny Arizona living the high life. And sending the bills home for the ranch to pay her expenses. Mounting expenses.

  Between her mother and father, Melanie was about ready to bang her head against the nearest wall, financially speaking.

  Patience. She would pray for patience. If she was very, very good, maybe God would grant her some.