Facing the Fire

by Calle J. Brookes

And five tall men she’d always recognize anywhere. They were all there, from Martin all the way down to the younger twin, Reese.

  Her brothers had come to call—every one of them: Martin, Michael, Chandler, Kaece and Reese.

  No. They’d come to get her and take her home where they thought she belonged. So they could build a wall of Tyler men around her and see to it that she never got so much as a scraped knee again.

  Or a broken heart.

  It was about to get really interesting around here. This was not good. So definitely not good.

  Not good at all.

  Her uncle had probably found out she was on her way home and had called her brothers. Phil had told her himself he was staying in Finley Creek for a few days at his business partner’s ranch. Good friends of Mel and Houghton—family connections. They and her Uncle Phil had helped Miranda Talley smuggle Maggie and Violet out that day.

  That traitor. Her uncle had to know what her brothers would do with that kind of information.

  Maggie let out a small curse—a word she never would have said five months ago but she’d learned from Mel—as the five men who’d raised her from the age of fourteen straightened and glared at Clint’s truck.

  Five tall, strong, broad-shouldered Tyler men dressed in winter coats and braced for war.

  Fire was on five Tyler faces. This was not going to be good.

  Her brothers were glaring.

  At Clint.

  Phil had said her brothers blamed Clint for her sudden disappearance five months ago. No wonder. Her connection to him was to blame.

  They were about to blame him for a whole lot more. And all it would take would be one look at her to have that happening. Her brothers were baboons, but they were smart. They’d figure it out fast.

  “Well, it’s time for the reckoning.” Maggie winced as she said it. Time to face the music. “There’s something I should probably tell you...Before we get out and face the fire.”

  “What is it?” He parked in his customary spot and killed the engine.

  The big yellow dog Kody darted out from the porch, tail wagging. Maggie’s heart melted seeing the big doofus. He was almost enough to distract her. Almost.

  She’d thought he’d been killed that day in a hail of bullets and had grieved him, too. He had always been so lovable. She’d poured her heart out to that dog quite a few times after that one night with Clint.

  “I never told my brothers.”

  He shot her a look of surprise. “What?”

  “I never told them about the baby. About us. They don’t know I’m pregnant. And they don’t know about…you…and what happened. They aren’t going to be very happy about this at all.”

  Clint flinched. He understood what she was saying. That was clear in his lighter blue eyes. “Then it’s time to face that fire, and put it out. If they beat me to a pulp, tell Violet when she’s older that her daddy loved her. This baby, too. More than words can say.”

  Maggie pulled in a deep breath and nodded. Now or never. A few of her brothers were reasonable men, even if they did all have reputations for being hotheaded.

  Something that could be laid directly at Clint’s stepfather’s feet.

  Clive never had liked the Tylers. No one knew why.

  He’d harassed her brothers for years; Clive had even arrested several of the Tylers a few times on trumped up charges that never stuck.

  Her brothers had been furious she’d taken the job as Clint Gunderson’s housekeeper, simply for that very reason. They’d made it clear she had no business anywhere near him, or any other Gunderson.

  But…she’d known Amy Gunderson, too. And the idea that Amy’s daughter needed someone…well, it had brought Maggie to the ranch that day to interview for the position as his housekeeper. Just to help, to be there for that little baby and the man who had been grieving the woman he’d loved.

  She had never intended the position to be a long-term one.

  She had also never intended to be the woman he used to help him forget.

  Everything had changed that day.

  Time to deal with the repercussions. So she could move on.

  She opened her door first. And slid from the passenger seat.

  Maggie faced her brothers straight on as they came toward her, keeping her eyes locked on Martin.

  They stopped. Stared. Cursed. Loudly.

  One hand dropped to her stomach, an unmistakable challenge to the five tall men staring at her. Her baby was her priority now. They were her family—but the baby was her everything now.

  The baby and Violet.

  Maggie took the first step toward them.

  This was the first test of showing the world who Maggie Tyler was now.

  She wasn’t going to back down from anyone telling her how to live her life ever again. Maggie had found a backbone in Texas—and she fully intended to use it.

  Starting with the six men surrounding her.

  7

  She left him to tend the baby.

  Clint wondered if that was a conscious choice to keep her brothers from ripping into him immediately or what.

  He stepped around the truck.

  He wasn’t going to hide behind his daughter.

  Or behind Maggie.

  He kept half his attention on what he was doing as his daughter was waking—and half his attention on his woman and her brothers.

  He didn’t know them well—he didn’t think her brothers would ever hurt her, but he was about to be toast as soon as they put one and one together and realized that in this case it added up to three.

  Martin Tyler, that mean sonofabitch who Clint had tangled with a time or two in his early twenties, was the well-known leader of his brothers. Around the same age as Clint, Martin had raised Maggie after their parents had died.

  Rumor had it Martin wasn’t too pleased with what had happened. And was blaming Clint for every bit of it. Martin had said as much to Clint right in the middle of the IGA four months ago.

  No surprise; everyone blamed Clint for it. Including Clint.

  But that was in the past. It was time they faced the future.

  He had two weeks to win Maggie back. He wasn’t going to let Martin or any of the rest of her brothers stand in the way of that. Even if Michael did pack quite a punch.

  Martin came toward Maggie first. Clint pulled Violet onto his hip and watched Martin like a hawk. One wrong move toward Maggie and Clint would kick the asshole off his property faster than Martin Tyler could blink.

  Or any of the other four men.

  Martin scooped his sister close, lifting her off the ground gently. Like she was he most precious creature in the world.

  No words were said.

  He just held her, a look of love on his face that surprised Clint at the intensity, the open expression of how the man felt.

  Martin Tyler had a reputation around Masterson as being a real fiery bad ass. Half the town was afraid of him because of his legendary temper.

  He didn’t look like that now, rocking his pregnant baby sister in his arms like that.

  Maggie’s arms snuck around her brother’s waist, and she held him close for a long moment.

  Then Martin was passing her to the next brother, Michael, who held her just as long. The hugs just kept going, until every brother had hugged her. Sometimes twice.

  Clint envied them their closeness. He had never had that with Jay. Not even once. Clive hadn’t encouraged closeness—he’d encouraged competitiveness from the moment Jay learned how to walk. Then he’d arrange things so Jay would always win. And Clint lose. Time and time again. Just so that Jay would feel special.

  “We were worried, Mags. No matter what Uncle Phil said, we were worried. You needed to be home where you belonged,” Michael said, firmly. Clint stiffened.

  He’d been right. There were there to take her away.

  “No,” Maggie said, even firmer. “I needed to be in Finley Creek more. I needed to find who I am. That was the greatest gift I could have been
given. No more searching for who Maggie Tyler is.”

  “And this kid?” one of other brothers asked. “Who is the father?”

  Five men looked right at Clint. It was obvious Maggie was more than five months along.

  No one there was an idiot.

  Tylers were hotheaded—but they weren’t stupid.

  They were doing the math quickly.

  And not liking the answer.

  Maggie had told him once herself that the biggest issue her brothers had had with this job had been Clint and what he might try to do.

  With her.

  Exactly what Clint had done.

  Clint stepped up behind her and put his free hand on her shoulder. He looked at Martin and nodded. “The baby is mine.”

  And so was Maggie.

  It was time they all knew that.

  8

  It took her two hours to get her brothers to settle down. Even longer to get the pack of buttheads to leave. Not a one of them was happy with her being with Clint. At all.

  They hadn’t liked her taking the position of his housekeeper a year ago, but she’d needed the job. And the independence from them. They were good men, the best she had ever known, but they took overprotective and smothering to the next level.

  She’d eventually just out-stubborned the lot of them.

  Now they had no choice but to back down to her.

  She had a place in Texas she could run away to if they got to be too much trouble.

  Them…or Clint. She’d told them all that—repeatedly. It had finally gotten through. She thought. It was hard telling with her brothers.

  Her brothers could overwhelm a rock when they were in agreement on something.

  She’d had to get out back then. She realized that now.

  They had been driving her crazy. Every job she’d had, other than the one she’d had at the diner—which she had stunk at, they had found some objection to. Half of those, they’d managed to get her fired from somehow.

  She hadn’t wanted to work at the diner or the Talley Inn forever. She’d known that. They’d wanted her to.

  Because in their minds the Inn and Masterson Diner were safe places for her to be.

  Heaven help her if she bucked what they expected of her back then.

  She’d heard Clint had had an opening for a live-in housekeeper. It had seemed like the perfect answer to her problem of five overbearing brothers who were keeping her from having any kind of a life.

  If nothing else, Clint’s ranch was in the opposite direction of her brothers’. A good seventy miles separated them. Distance would keep them out of her business—or so she’d thought.

  She’d lived at her childhood home until the day she’d moved into the small room at the end of Clint’s hallway. She’d felt stifled but hadn’t been able to put that into words—until she’d met Mel and the woman had practically forced her to discuss every feeling Maggie had ever had in her entire twenty-four-and-a-half years.

  It had helped. Knowing that her feelings were valid had…mattered.

  She’d very rarely stood up to her brothers before. She’d been afraid of causing them problems at first, and then it just became a habit.

  It had taken her two months to get them to stop “casually” swinging by Clint’s place just to say “hi”. And check on her. Protect her from Clint.

  As a teen, she’d mostly been afraid the social worker would decide her two eldest brothers had had no business raising her.

  Foster care had been a very real fear for her, even though several of her aunts and uncles had made her promises that that would never happen. At one point it had looked like she’d have to move in with her Uncle Phil and his family.

  She would have been happy there—she’d spent hundreds of nights with her cousins as a child—but she was happier at home with her brothers. Her home.

  Until it had started to smother her as an adult.

  A part of her had feared Martin—who she hadn’t been super close to at the time, considering the eleven-year age difference between them—would have not wanted to deal with her any longer if she caused him too much trouble.

  But he had. And he had loved her. Would always love her.

  No matter what happened.

  One thing had been made abundantly clear though—all five of her brothers wanted to tear Clint apart. Into teeny tiny pieces for daring to touch their sister.

  Only her warning to keep things civil or she’d take her baby and disappear again—this time forever—had had the six men behaving at all.

  Clint was just as bad as Martin and Michael and all the rest. Half the things he’d said tonight had been designed just to infuriate her brothers. Almost taunting them.

  Jerks.

  He was ready to fight for what he wanted. He had made that known to everyone tonight. He’d fight the world to get what he wanted.

  What he wanted was her.

  What he truly wanted was the baby she carried.

  His son.

  She was just the incubator when it was all boiled down to the lowest common denominator. She’d moved from convenient one-night-stand, to convenient incubator.

  It had felt surreal stepping foot back into the ranch house after so long away. It had taken her a moment to get her bearings.

  He’d kept her things exactly as she had left them.

  Now…now she was alone. Back at Clint’s ranch again.

  He was outside, feeding the horses, cattle, and Kody like he did every night. She finished feeding Violet and gave her a bath. It was easy to settle back into their routine. Just their surroundings had changed. Violet seemed to be doing ok.

  As long as she could see Maggie, that was.

  But finally, it was time for the little girl to go to bed for the night.

  Clint came back in, just in time to give Violet a goodnight kiss and cuddle her. He wanted to be the one to put her down in her crib. Maggie definitely understood.

  Maggie stood at the door and watched. Tried not to think how perfect the man looked with the little girl held so close in his arms.

  When she’d first taken the position, he’d still been awkward with the baby. That had changed in the months between that day and when she and Violet had been spirited out of the state. Now, he couldn’t keep his hands or eyes off his baby.

  It was obvious he’d missed Violet.

  Clint was a wonderful father. In all the ways that counted. Her son would be lucky to have him in his life. She would never do anything to jeopardize that.

  She was definitely staying in Masterson County. Now she just had to work out the details.

  “I think she’s asleep now,” he whispered.

  Maggie nodded. Violet was a great sleeper, most nights. But traveling by air and being in what to her was an unfamiliar place could disrupt that.

  Maggie was exhausted herself—and it wasn’t quite nine.

  She was used to staying up a lot later now—Mel had been a confirmed night owl, and as an official Mel’s Minion, Maggie had gotten used to later nightlife than she had preferred when she’d been a ranch hand or housekeeper.

  Once she settled in for a few days and went back to work—Mel had insisted she stay on the payroll and just work digitally; Mel wanted minions in various parts of the world to do Mel’s nefarious bidding—she’d find her own routine.

  One that worked for her.

  Then, when the time came, she’d build a routine for herself and the baby.

  Maggie suspected the older woman planned to expand Blessed Reunions when Mel’s boss retired next year. Between Gretchen Reynolds’s connections and Mel’s unlimited funds and determination, Blessed Reunions could be huge.

  Maggie was excited to be a part of it.

  After her maternity leave was over. That was a good five or six months away. In the meantime, she’d just be doing preliminary computer work for BR.

  There were a lot of other things she had to take care of first. Her brother Martin was the best contractor in the county. He’d r
ecently purchased four houses in town to renovate. As future rentals.

  Maggie was determined that one of those houses was going to be hers and the baby’s, when the time came. They had two weeks to get it ready.

  She’d have to talk to her brothers in a few days. Currently, the five doofuses were acting like she was going to stay right where she was—with the father of her baby. So Clint could protect and provide for her now, instead of them.

  All tucked up and cozy.

  They probably imagined she’d stay there, barefoot and pregnant, raising miniature Gundersons for the rest of her life. With them stopping by to visit the babies, bringing toys and treats.

  Where she’d be all safe and secure and taken care of. Occupied.

  They really did act like Masterson County was stuck in 1926 sometimes.

  Her brothers probably expected she’d be marrying Clint as soon as possible and he’d be responsible for taking care of her forever. So they wouldn’t have to any longer.

  They were too thrilled with it being Clint, considering the bad blood between his stepfather and their family, but no doubt they’d overlook that if Clint was a good enough husband to her. If he earned it.

  Grrr.

  The idea of her being a single parent and happy about it most likely hadn’t occurred to her traditionalist brothers.

  They were wild hell-raisers, every one of them, but when it came down to it, they were rather archaic beasts.

  Especially where Maggie was concerned.

  Chauvinists, every one of them.

  She loved each and every one of them. Tears hit her eyes as she remembered how homesick she’d been in the beginning. How she would have given anything to see just one of her brothers pop up in Finley Creek with her uncle.

  In spite of the problems that would have inevitably caused.

  When her uncle Phil had shown up at a dinner at Mel and Houghton’s a month after she’d first arrived at what Mel called the Fortress of Ostentatiousness, Maggie had bawled like a baby, clinging to her uncle for close to an hour.

  He had just walked in like he had been there a thousand times before. She hadn’t believed her eyes for a minute.

  It had been one of the best days of the past five months. She’d never know when he would be visiting, but he’d just pop in to check on her. She’d bawled every single time he’d left.