The Chisholm Brothers:Friends, Lovers... Husbands?

by Janis Reams Hudson

  Her casual crude remark left Caleb speechless, but not for long. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m sorry.” She whipped her shirt on, then sat down to put on her socks and boots, all the time refusing to meet his gaze. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I told you this was a bad idea.”

  Caleb didn’t trust himself to speak, for fear he would say something he wouldn’t be able to take back. His best friend, the woman he had just taken as his lover, was lying through her pearly-white teeth. She must be badly shaken to be pulling a stunt like this.

  Tight-lipped, he gathered up his own clothes. “If you’re in a hurry, don’t wait on me. I can walk back.”

  “Don’t be silly. It was my horse that went lame. I’ll walk. It’ll only take about ten minutes.”

  “Oh, yeah, right.” He put on his socks first, then tugged on his jeans while she put on her boots. “Like I’m gonna ride off and leave you afoot.”

  “I don’t know why not.” She stood up and stomped her feet more firmly into her boots. “I would you.”

  “We’ve already covered what a lousy liar you are, more than once lately, so give it a rest, will you?”

  “Jack and I are walking back,” she said. “If you and Blazer want to walk with us, that’s fine.”

  Melanie had been accurate about it taking only ten minutes to walk back to the house, out of sight until they topped the rise. Back at the barn, Caleb tied Blazer’s reins to the corral fence.

  “You want me to saddle you another horse? We’ve still got time to bring the herd up here before dark.”

  Melanie squinted up at the sun to judge the time for herself. It was nearly noon. She shook her head. “I’m hungry. I’ll decide after lunch. Go ahead and turn Blazer out in the corral for now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Melanie eyed him carefully. Dammit, she’d known if they took their kissing any further they would gum up the works. Yes, ma’am, she mimicked silently. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” He untied Blazer’s reins and led him toward the barn to unsaddle him. “Nothing at all. You’re the one calling all the shots.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “I am.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He took his horse into the barn.

  Melanie followed with Jack and they unsaddled their mounts. Caleb rubbed down his horse while Melanie got the liniment from the tack room and spent nearly ten minutes rubbing it into Jack’s fetlock. Then she led him outside where she turned on the hose and ran cold water over the injury for another ten minutes.

  “There, Jack, that will help, I promise. And we’ll do it again in a little while.” She would repeat the process three or four times a day for as long as three days if need be. If he wasn’t recovered by then she would have to talk to the vet about anti-inflammatory drugs.

  Meanwhile, to help things along she went to the house and filled a large Ziploc bag with crushed ice. She took this out to the barn and tied it around Jack’s ankle. He probably wouldn’t leave it in place very long, but every minute it stayed on would help.

  With the ice pack firmly in place, she gave him a rubdown and a handful of sweet feed.

  By the time she and Caleb both finished, they had shared fewer than a dozen words, and each of them only out of necessity. And each one bitten off tersely.

  When they finished, she turned toward the big barn doors. “If you want to eat, come to the house.”

  Caleb would have told her to take her offer of food and shove it, but the cell phone clipped to his belt chose that moment to chirp.

  One of them had just been saved, he thought, by the bell.

  He unclipped the phone and answered. It was Justin.

  “You coming home anytime soon?” Justin demanded. “Work’s piling up around here.”

  “Work’s always piling up,” Caleb said easily. “What’s new since last night when Sloan told me everything was fine?”

  “Cal just called. He’ll be here in an hour.”

  Cal was their cousin from Georgia. “With the mare?”

  “You got it. You coming?”

  Caleb watched Melanie march stiff-backed toward the house. Stomped was more like it. A little more distance between the two of them seemed like a good idea just then. Besides, Cal was bringing in the new mare Sloan had been wanting. Big brother didn’t know it yet, but Caleb and Justin had gone together and bought her for him as a wedding present. They’d hoped to have her home in time to present her to Sloan and Emily at the party last Saturday, but that hadn’t been possible. Now that she was finally coming, Caleb had to be on hand.

  “Yeah,” he told Justin. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  He ended the call, reclipped the phone onto his belt and caught up with Melanie in the kitchen.

  “I’ve got to run home for a couple of hours,” he said.

  “Fine. You don’t need to come back. I’m sure Daddy will be home this evening.”

  Caleb ground his teeth together. “Are you deliberately trying to hack me off, or does it just come naturally?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Caleb stared at her and shook his head slowly. “We’re not finished with this.”

  “Oh, I think we are.”

  “Not by a long shot, pal. I’ll be back. Count on it. Meanwhile, do us both a favor and stick close to the house in case you get any more unwanted visitors.”

  She smirked. “Are you kidding? I’m about to get rid of one.”

  “Look.” He jabbed a finger toward her face. “I don’t know what’s eating you, but we’re going to have this out when I get back.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to answer. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the counter, then spun on his heel and strode swiftly outside to his pickup. When he climbed into the seat he tossed his wallet down beside him.

  His wallet. Where he kept his driver’s license, credit card, voter’s registration. And the condom he always carried, just in case.

  Well, hell.

  ♥ Uploaded by Coral ♥

  Chapter Six

  The minute Caleb drove across the cattle guard at the end of the PR drive—and Melanie knew when that minute came because she rushed to the front door and watched him drive away—she went to the kitchen sink to scrub away the stink of horse liniment. By the time she finished, her skin was raw. But the smell of liniment was gone.

  The smell of Caleb, however, was another matter. He was on her skin, on her clothes, in her hair.

  Oh, God, what had she done?

  The tears came from nowhere, shocking her with their intensity. She hated crying, and here she was, for the second time in one day, sobbing her eyes out. Dammit.

  But she couldn’t seem to stop. She wrapped her arms around her middle, for comfort, she supposed, and leaned over the sink, her tears so thick they blocked her vision.

  He had overwhelmed her, made her open herself up to him, open her heart to him the way she never had before, not for any man. Not even for herself. And it hurt.

  But she had hurt him, too, and she hadn’t known she could, not over plain, ordinary sex. Not even over spectacular sex. They were friends. They should not have been able to breach each other’s internal barriers.

  And dammit, she thought with a sniff, she should not still be crying. Crying solved nothing; all it did was stop up her nose and turn her face red and splotchy.

  After a few more sniffs she turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. Jack had probably torn off his ice pack by now. She took a stack of gel cold packs from the pantry and put them in the freezer for use later, then went back out to the barn to see about her horse.

  At the Cherokee Rose, Caleb parked beside the barn where Justin and Sloan stood waiting for him.

  “About damn time you decided to put in an appearance,” Sloan said tersely.

  “If you needed me,” Caleb said calmly, “you knew where I was.”

  “I knew.” Sloan
eyed him carefully. “What I want to know is why. What are you up to with Melanie?”

  Justin elbowed his way between them and faced Caleb. “Are you taking advantage of her?”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right, jump on me. Get your minds out of the gutter, both of you.” Never mind that his own had been there for the better part of the week. “It so happens she’s all alone out there on the PR with no one to help her. I’ve been giving her a hand.”

  “What do you mean, alone?” Sloan demanded. “Where’s her dad, where are their men?”

  “They’re having trouble. Her dad’s gambling again and they had to let the men go. And that’s probably not for public consumption.”

  “Why the hell didn’t she say something sooner?” Justin demanded.

  “Why the hell didn’t any of us notice sooner?” Sloan asked with disgust.

  “Well, it’s done.” Caleb shifted. He thought he heard the rumble of a truck engine approaching. “I’m helping out, and when Ralph Pruitt shows his face again I intend to straighten him out, one way or another.”

  Justin gave a sharp tug on the brim of his hat. “You need any help in that department, I’ll be more than happy to lend a hand. He’s got no business leaving her with all that work and responsibility. But right now, we’ve got something else to do.”

  “Who’s this?” Sloan motioned toward the pickup and horse trailer coming up the driveway. “Somebody must be lost.”

  Caleb and Justin shared a grin.

  “Not exactly,” Justin said. “I’ll go get Emily and Grandmother. They’ll want to see this.”

  “See what?” Sloan demanded as Justin ran off toward the house. “Hey, that looks like… is that Cal? What’s he doing here?”

  Caleb kept quiet until the others arrived and Cal stepped out of the pickup.

  “Hey, guys.”

  “Cal?” Sloan strode forward to shake hands with their cousin. “What the hell are you doing here? How long can you stay?”

  “Save your questions, big guy.” Justin slapped Sloan on the back. “Let’s unload that trailer first.”

  When Sloan saw the horse in the trailer, he didn’t have to be told who it was. He recognized the mare he’d fallen in love with last year in Kentucky.

  “Cherokee Beauty,” he breathed. “Where are you taking her?” he asked Cal.

  “Here,” Cal said.

  “Here? What do you mean, here?”

  Caleb and Justin shared a look, then laughed. “Happy wedding,” Caleb said, putting a hand on Sloan’s shoulder.

  Sloan blinked. “What?”

  “You heard me. She’s yours. Yours and Emily’s. A belated wedding present.”

  Sloan appeared stunned. “Man. She’s ours? No fooling?”

  It wasn’t often that Sloan Chisholm was taken by surprise. Caleb was pleased and proud to have been in on the surprise that so obviously held his brother in awe.

  In Caleb’s book, Sloan was the best. He worked like a dog to make sure everyone he loved was taken care of. It felt good, damn good, to be able to do something good for him for a change.

  Having just washed another application of liniment off, Melanie was standing with her back to the kitchen window, drying her hands, when she heard a vehicle drive up to the back of the house.

  She groaned. She wasn’t ready to face Caleb yet.

  Outside, a car door slammed.

  Melanie threw her towel onto the counter. Ready or not, her time seemed to have run out. She turned toward the back door just as it flew open.

  “I’m home!”

  Melanie gaped. It took her a moment to fight her way through the shock, the relief, to find her voice. “Mama!”

  “Baby!” Fayrene Pruitt swept her daughter up in a tight hug.

  Melanie hugged her back, fiercely glad to see for herself that her mother was all right. In the brief glimpse she’d had before her mother reached her, Melanie had noted that even discounting the cosmetics, her mother’s color was good, her eyes clear and filled with delight.

  Mama was okay. Thank God, Mama was okay, and she was home.

  But as she stood there in her mother’s beloved arms Melanie became aware that something was different. Her mother had finally lost the extra weight she’d been threatening to shed for years. Melanie pushed back and grinned.

  “Mama, you’re all skinny.” At least compared to her former shape. Fayrene had always been a little on the pudgy side. Now she was trim and curvy.

  Fayrene grinned. “Well, not all of me.” She wagged her shoulders forward and back.

  “Mama, you look great. You’re—” Then Melanie saw what was truly different about her mother’s shape, and she gaped. Her eyes felt ready to pop clear out of her head. “Mama! What have you done?”

  Where once a nice, comfortable set of A-cup breasts had rested reliably, there now sat perched the grandest pair of D-cups Melanie had ever seen.

  “Mama!”

  Fayrene threw back her head and laughed. “You like ’em?”

  “What have you done?”

  Fayrene held her arms in the air and danced around in a circle. She wore blue jeans that looked painted on, a silver concho belt and a red, Western style blouse with white piping and, along the yoke, fringe, which only accented her new breasts.

  “This is what you had done at the Scottsdale Clinic?”

  Fayrene patted her new breasts. “They did a really nice job, too.”

  All the worry, all the fear for her mother’s life, and she’d had a boob job? Melanie didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throttle her mother.

  She did all three. She started laughing, hysterically, then went for her mother’s throat. “I could strangle you.” Tears came through the laughter. “I thought you were sick or dying. Dammit, Mama, you scared the daylights out of me.”

  Fayrene stepped back and gaped. “Why on earth would you think something like that?”

  “What am I supposed to think when you charge ten thousand dollars on the credit card at a place called Scottsdale Clinic? And then you don’t return my phone calls? And while we’re on the subject, how in the hell are we supposed to pay that bill?”

  Fayrene’s mouth opened and closed like a fish sucking air. “What do you mean?” she finally managed to say.

  “Hell-o-o.” Melanie tapped a finger against her mother’s temple. “When you charge on the credit card, I have to come up with the cash to pay the credit card company.”

  Fayrene shook her finger in Melanie’s face. “Don’t you talk to me that way, young lady. I’m still your mother.”

  “I know you are, and I love you, and I respect you. But between you and Daddy—”

  “What about your daddy?”

  Melanie shook her head and turned away. “He’s—” She paused at the sound of another vehicle approaching the house. She glanced out the window.

  “He’s what, baby?”

  “He’s here,” Melanie said. “He just pulled up.” A man was in the pickup with him, and another man followed in a sedan.

  Just great, Melanie thought. What a time for her dad to bring company home with him.

  If she had been counting to ten she wouldn’t have finished before her father burst through the back door. “Mel?” Then he saw his wife. His eyes popped. “Good grief! Fayrene? Holy smokes! What the hell have you done to yourself?”

  “Well,” Fayrene said, propping her hands on her hips and thrusting out her new, more-than-ample chest, “it looks like I finally have your attention. For once.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Ralph demanded.

  “Wait a minute,” Melanie said, stunned. “You don’t mean to tell me that you did this just to get Daddy’s attention.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Fayrene smirked. “Look at him. He can’t take his eyes off me.”

  “He’s staring at your boobs.”

  “Yes.” Fayrene’s smile was pure feline. “He is.”

  “I am not.” Ralph jerked his gaze away from his wife�
�s chest for the first time since entering the house. “Okay, I was,” he grumbled. “Hell’s bells, look at ’em? Who wouldn’t stare?”

  “Daddy, for heaven’s sake.”

  “No, baby,” Fayrene said. “It’s quite all right. This is exactly how I’d hoped he’d react.”

  “Good God, you did do it for him,” Melanie cried.

  “Of course. Why else would a woman do such a thing?”

  Melanie groaned in frustration. She and her mother had entirely different personalities and ways of thinking. Thank goodness.

  Outside the back door the man who had ridden with her father started whistling.

  Melanie’s father jumped as if jabbed by a cattle prod. “A couple of guys came with me.”

  “I can see that,” Melanie said. “Who are they? Why are they here?”

  “I made a deal.”

  “You’ve been gambling again,” Fayrene accused.

  Ralph glared at Melanie.

  “Don’t look at me,” she declared. “I didn’t say a word.”

  Fayrene huffed. “She didn’t have to. You look guilty as hell, the place looks run-down and our baby girl is griping about money. If that isn’t enough, I recognize a couple of goons when I see them,” she added, nodding toward the two men outside. “What have you got yourself into this time, Ralphie?”

  Ralph pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped it across his forehead. “Look, you two. I owe these guys’ boss a lot of money, money Melanie says we don’t have. I made a deal with him to clear my slate, but you can’t talk about it, either of you, to anyone. Not ever, do you hear me? Not ever.”

  Melanie had never seen her father so distraught. He looked as if he might throw up any minute. “Let’s sit at the table and have some iced tea while you tell us about it,” she suggested.

  Ralph seized the idea like a lifeline. However, he wasn’t so distracted by his problems that he didn’t have the presence of mind to pull out the chair at the foot of the table for her mother before seating himself at the head of the table.