Releasing his inner cowboy

Rust Creek Ramblings

Rugged ex-marine Brendan Tanner and his muscles recently took up residence at the Stockton ranch, presumably for a short-term stay. Could Fiona O’Reilly make him rethink his wandering ways? The sparks between those two could light up all of Rust Creek Falls, if only they weren’t so darned wary of falling in love. Bundle up, dear readers, and warm your hearts as Fiona and Brendan try to find their way home—to each other!

TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

Also by Teresa Southwick

Just What the Cowboy Needed

His By Christmas

The New Guy in Town

Just a Little Bit Married

A Word with the Bachelor

How to Land Her Lawman

The Widow’s Bachelor Bargain

A Decent Proposal

The Rancher Who Took Her In

One Night with the Boss

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Unmasking the Maverick

Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07819-1

UNMASKING THE MAVERICK

© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To the brave men and women of the United States

military. Thank you for your service and sacrifice.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

The poor kid from Prosperity, Texas, who hated fixing other people’s trash for a living had come full circle.

On the upside, his father would be proud. But Brendan Tanner had a lot of mileage on him since those resentful teenage days. The Corps had a way of turning an ungrateful kid into a buttoned-up, battle-hardened marine. And it was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Now he was in Rust Creek Falls, Montana, fixing a broken toaster. He was living at a place called Sunshine Farm. After seeing something online about it being a welcome place to get a fresh start, he’d reached out to Luke Stockton, one of the owners, and the cowboy had invited him to stay as long as he wanted. The name made him smile, although the upward curving of his mouth felt a little rusty. In the last eighteen months there hadn’t been much to smile about.

It disappeared when he heard a sudden high-pitched squeal. Those battle-hardened marine instincts kicked in and he automatically took a defensive stance, then realized the sound was a child’s laughter. Slowly he released his breath. The reflexes were still sharp, but apparently so were the bad memories.

The kid in question burst through the open door of his temporary barn workshop and came to a stop in front of Brendan. The blond, blue-eyed little guy stared up at him and chewed on his index finger.

“Hey, buddy. Where’s your mama? Did you go rogue?”

The kid babbled something that could have been a foreign language for all Brendan knew, then pointed to his tall rolling toolbox. It had belonged to his father, one of the few things he’d brought with him from Texas. When word got out that he was handy, he’d found a use for the tools. Something told him this kid could put them to use, too, but there would be hell to pay.

His next thought was all about heaven when the prettiest redhead he’d ever seen appeared in the workshop doorway.

“Jared! There you are, you little stinker.” The reprimand was spoken with such affection that it wasn’t a scolding at all. Then she smiled at Brendan. “Hi.”

“Ma’am.” He nodded and touched the brim of his Stetson. She was a little breathless, probably from running, but it was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “I wondered where his mom was.”

“Oh, I’m not his mother. Aunt by marriage. My sister Fallon married Jamie Stockton, who was a widower, and she became a mom to his triplets—Jared, Henry and Kate.”

Brendan watched her grab the kid when he made a move toward the toolbox. Instantly the boy started squirming to escape. If Brendan was in her arms, escape would be the last thing on his mind.

Then it sank in. Triplets. “There are two more like him?” he asked.

“Triple joy.” She laughed and held on to the little wiggle worm. “Or triple trouble. It changes from moment to moment.”

“Dat.” Jared pointed a stubby little finger at a screwdriver sitting on the workbench. “Want dat.”

The kid’s determination increased his twisting to get free, but to her credit the redhead hung on. Brendan had trained in hand-to-hand combat in the Marines and wasn’t sure he could have managed to wrangle the boy. He’d never been around kids, but even he knew giving this small human a sharp tool was a bad idea—no matter how determined he was to have it. He could offer to supervise, but there were too many ways for the situation to go sideways. Then he had an idea.

Underneath the workbench was a basket of broken toys. Eva Stockton, the wife of Luke, who owned Sunshine Farm, had given it to him. She’d said she kept them around for her niece and nephews and asked him to repair any he could. The kids were hard on them, she’d said, and after meeting Jared he understood what she meant.

He pulled the stash out into the open. “Maybe he’d like to look through these?”

“You’re a lifesaver.” The woman looked at him as if he’d hung the moon.

The lifesaver part was truer than she knew, Brendan thought. He’d saved lives, and buddies had saved his, too. They shared a bond unlike anything he’d ever known, the tight-knit family he’d never had. A brotherhood forged in battle. But a different sort of skirmish ensued when the redhead set little Jared on his feet. The toolbox was forgotten as he started in on the toys.

“Car!” Jared held one up that was missing a wheel. He squatted down and set it on the hard-packed clay floor and made the universal sound effect used by boys to simulate an engine revving.

“Here’s to the short attention span of a two-and-a-half-year-old.” The woman’s eyes were big and blue and beautiful. The laughter shining there was really something special. “He hasn’t seen those broken toys for so long they’re like brand-new to him.”

“I haven’t had a chance to check them out and see if they’re salvageable.”

“Eva and Luke are keeping you busy?”

“Understatement. Fix a broken clothes dryer and suddenly you’re a Jedi knight who can use the force to put Humpty Dumpty back together.” He shrugged. “And they tell all their friends.”

“So, do I call you Sir Jedi? Or do you have a name?”

He nearly winced. Obviously his social skills were as rusty as his smile. “Brendan Tanner.”

She held out her hand. “Fiona O’Reilly.”

He took her hand and something crackled up his arm, shocking the words right out of his head. He barely managed to mumble, “Nice to meet you.”

While his brain was frozen, the rest of him was hot as a Texas sun on the hard-packed plains.

Before it turned awkward, Jared struck again. He’d emptied every last toy from the basket. Apparently the process of taking them out was playing with them and he was on to bigger and better things. Like the toolbox he’d temporarily forgotten. He opened a metal drawer, the one with various saw blades.

Without thinking it through, Brendan grabbed him up before he could touch anything and hurt himself. There was an instant screech of protest.

“I think they heard that in the next county.” He looked at Fiona. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle him, but those things are sharp.”

“You have pretty good reflexes.” Instead of being upset, she looked impressed. The kid, however, was ticked off and held his arms out to her. She took him and ignored the loud grunts and the struggle to get back down. “No way, Jared. How come you don’t know by now that I’m not a soft touch?”

Brendan begged to differ with her on that. She looked plenty soft to him, in all the right places. But he knew that was not what she meant. “I can’t imagine herding two more like this one.”

“That’s why I’m here. Luke and Eva invited the family to dinner and I’m part of the reinforcements. Fallon has Henry. The last time I saw them he was chasing a chicken and she was hot on his heels. Jamie was keeping Kate from going headfirst into the horse’s water trough. And I drew the short straw. We call him jackrabbit because he’s so fast.” She kissed his cheek and made smacking noises, getting a giggle out of the squirmy boy.

The sight of this woman with a child in her arms struck a chord deep inside Brendan. Her brightness flashed a light on the dark emptiness he carried around, the dusty place where he stored any hope of having a family.

“There you are.” Luke Stockton walked into the workshop.

It was getting like Grand Central Station in here, Brendan thought. For some reason he didn’t completely mind the invasion. He had liked Luke Stockton the first time they met and hadn’t changed his mind since he’d been here at Sunshine Farm. His blue eyes projected honesty, integrity, and the deep tan was a result of hard outdoor work.

He shook hands with Brendan, then looked at Fiona and his nephew. “Your sister was getting worried. About you. And keeping up with Jared.”

“Oh, please.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “I’m onto this little man.”

“I see you two have met,” Luke said, glancing between her and Brendan.

“We introduced ourselves,” she confirmed.

Luke took the squirming little boy, who was holding out his arms. Probably hoping this time he’d get put down. But Luke held him tight. “What are you up to, jackrabbit?”

“He’s not happy,” Fiona said. “Brendan wouldn’t let him juggle the saw blades in his toolbox.”

“You’ve got a mean streak,” Luke teased.

“That’s me. Making kids cry. It’s a gift,” Brendan said.

“Yeah. Speaking of gifts...” Luke looked at Fiona. “This guy can fix anything from a can opener to a car engine.”

“So I heard.” Fiona’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re working him so hard the poor man hardly has time for anything else.”

“Me?” Luke shook his head. “I just mentioned to a couple of people that he’s got some skills repairing broken things. It’s not my fault folks in Rust Creek Falls ran with it.”

“So he should be flattered while working his fingers to the bone?” She folded her arms over her chest.

Luke lifted the wriggling kid above his head and got a snort of laughter out of him. “It’s clear to any enterprising person that there’s a need around here for this kind of service. I’m trying to talk him into opening a repair shop.”

“And?”

Brendan noticed a questioning look in her eyes, along with something that might have been female interest. If he was right about that, the attraction was mutual. “And I keep telling Luke that I will likely be gone in a few months.”

“That’s not a definite,” the other man said. “I’m telling you there’s money to be made and we need to spread the word.”

“If there’s one thing folks in Rust Creek Falls are good at, it’s talking. It’s almost a competitive sport around here,” she joked.

“A business venture isn’t the only reason to stick around.” Luke glanced at Fiona, then back. “This is a close community with good people.”

Brendan couldn’t swear to it but he’d bet money that Fiona blushed.

All she said was, “This town has a charm, for sure.”

And then another redhead appeared in the workshop doorway, holding an identical version of Jared. That must be Henry. And if the feather he was tightly clutching in his little fist was any indication, he’d caught up with that unfortunate chicken.

“See?” He held it up proudly.

“So the party is in here.” This was Fallon Stockton.

Even if Brendan hadn’t already met her, he would have guessed a sibling connection to Fiona just because of the coloring. She was pretty enough, but...she wasn’t Fiona. And he was going to forget that thought had ever entered his mind.

“It is getting crowded in here,” Luke agreed. “Also it’s not a safe place to turn these little guys loose.” Again he held up Jared, who squealed with delight.

“Eva sent me to find everyone. Dinner will be ready soon. We have to get the kids washed up,” Fallon said.

“On it.” Fiona took Jared. “Nice to meet you, Brendan.”

“Likewise.” Politely he touched the brim of his Stetson.

“You should join us for dinner,” Luke said to him.

That caught him off guard. “I don’t know...”

“Eva cooks enough to feed half of Rust Creek Falls. On top of that, Fiona brought her famous four-cheese macaroni dish and it is not to be missed.”

“It’s kind of last minute,” he hedged.

“There’s plenty of food,” Fallon confirmed.

“Tell him, Fiona,” Luke urged. “He hasn’t lived until he’s tried your homemade mac and cheese.”

“I don’t like to toot my own horn.”

No one could accuse Brendan of picking up on social cues, but even he didn’t miss the obvious matchmaking. Apparently neither did Fiona. The look on her face said she could cheerfully strangle Luke Stockton.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, “but I’m pretty busy here. I promised to have these things back in working order by tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Luke nodded. “If you change your mind, there will be a place set at the table for you.”

“Thanks anyway.”

A place at the table, he thought, watching them all walk away. A family thing. He hadn’t experienced much of that in his life and it was probably better for everyone if he stayed away. And by “everyone” he meant Fiona. He’d seen the wary look on her face when he’d been invited. It was so different from her smile when he’d used a basket of broken toys to fix a toddler’s tantrum. Damn it. He wanted to hang the moon for her again.

In battle it was an unwritten rule that you never left a man behind. But watching her leave made him feel as if someone was and he had a bad feeling that man was him.

* * *

At the house, Fiona made a dash for the bathroom to see just how bad she had looked for her meet and greet with the hunky new guy. Her worst suspicions were confirmed. The overall effect was almost as bad as if she’d been mud wrestling. Come to think of it, chasing after little Jared Stockton wasn’t much different, but still...

Red hair had escaped her ponytail and hung around her face. The freckles on her nose, which she hated more than anything except the five extra pounds on her hips, were like dots begging to be connected. It’s what happened when a girl didn’t put on makeup because, hey, it was just family.

If the universe had given her a clue that she would meet the best-looking man in Montana, she would have made more of an effort to minimize her flaws. No wonder he’d turned down the dinner invitation. That and Luke throwing her at the poor man.

Now that she had a little distance from the power of his sex appeal, she could finally think straight. It was probably for the best that he hadn’t come to dinner. The last time someone pushed her at a man, things ended badly. And that time it was public.

Fiona opened the bathroom door and nearly tripped over Jared, who was waiting for her. She picked him up. “Hey, bud, at least you love me.”

“Wuv you.” He put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her.

“You’re a heartbreaker in training, that’s what you are. Let’s go help Aunt Eva and Uncle Luke get dinner on the table.”

With the child in her arms, Fiona walked down the hall and found her way to the dining room. It was crawling with Stocktons. Altogether there were seven Stockton siblings, but only four were here. The oldest, Luke, sat at the head of the table next to his new wife, Eva Armstrong. Bella was a Jones now, married to her husband, Hudson. Daniel Stockton and his wife, Annie, had a preteen daughter, Janie. Last was Jamie, who was married to Fiona’s sister Fallon.

The family had been split up after their folks died. In recent years they’d been coming back together, and these Sunday night dinners were important to all of them.

The dining room table was set for what looked like an army. Eva was directing everyone like a general executing a battle plan. The triplets were settled into booster chairs with Jamie and Fallon in between to oversee them. The other couples took their places, and Fiona was directed to one of the two empty seats at the end of the table. The Stocktons had one single male brother left and she had a bad feeling.

She sat next to the empty chair. “Is Bailey coming?”

Luke laughed at her question. “He was invited, of course, but politely declined.”

“Politely?” His wife, Eva, sat at a right angle to him in the place closest to the kitchen. “I think he said something about preferring horses to people.”

Bella sighed. “That’s just it. We’re not people. We’re family.”

“He’s got some issues to work through.” Jamie spooned peas onto Jared’s and Kate’s little plastic plates and passed the bowl to Fallon to serve Henry. “Give him time. He’ll come around. When he meets the right woman.”

Here we go, Fiona thought. She was a woman. She was nice. She was single and getting very close to the ripe old age of thirty. They’d better not ask why she wasn’t married unless they wanted to unleash a redhead’s legendary temper.

“So, who is the extra plate for, then?” Fallon asked.

“We have a guest staying in one of the cabins. Brendan Tanner,” Eva explained. “He fixed our dryer and some other things here at Sunshine Farm. Luke invited him to dinner.”

Just hearing his name made Fiona’s stomach feel funny. Nervous and excited. In a “crushing on him” kind of way. It was time to shut down this topic. “He said he couldn’t make it.”

“I’m hoping he’ll change his mind,” Luke said. “The man saved us the cost of a new clothes dryer. The least we can do is feed him dinner.” As if on cue, a knock on the front door interrupted him. “Come in.”

A moment later Brendan Tanner walked inside and stopped cold when he saw everyone looking at him. “You didn’t say the fifth infantry, third battalion would be here.”

Funny, Fiona thought. She’d been thinking an army was coming, too, when she’d seen how many places were set at the table.

“Always room for one more.” Luke waved him closer. “Sit there next to Fiona. Glad you changed your mind. We’re ready for you.”

Good for them, Fiona thought. She wasn’t ready for this at all. And if the look on Tanner’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t, either. But there was something in his green eyes when he looked at her, an intensity that made them glow. Heat pooled low in her belly and her hands started to shake when he walked over and sat down. She’d give him this—the man had courage.

And he showered, she thought. His damp, freshly combed hair was a clue, as was the fresh scent of soap that clung to his skin. He’d changed his clothes, too. The plaid snap-front shirt tucked into jeans highlighted his narrow hips and broad shoulders. Eye candy for sure.

And she’d been staring. Oh, boy, say something brilliant. She cleared her throat. “So, Brendan, what made you change your mind?”

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“The one I made?” She was feeling a little tingly and flattered.

“Is there another one?”

“I don’t think so.”

He shrugged one of those broad shoulders. “It’s one of my favorites. Box or scratch, count me in.”

“I see.” Her tingly feeling went up in smoke. “So any bozo could throw ingredients together and you’d be first in line.”

“I—That’s not exactly what I meant—”

She grinned. “Just kidding. But seriously. If the dish I made for this dinner doesn’t bring tears to your eyes then something is very wrong with your taste buds.”

He smiled, and the power of the look enveloped her in a sort of golden haze. It was a little like floating close to the sun all by herself. Bright and quiet—

She suddenly realized how quiet this room was in spite of the large group around the table. They were all staring at her and Tanner. She’d once been the center of attention at a social gathering, and the horrible memory had humiliation pouring through her now as it had then. That time it was about a man, too.

She felt as if she was living out a comedy sketch. In a noisy room when you said something embarrassing at the same moment everyone went silent and heard you. This was like that. Even the triplets, who could usually be counted on for sounds in a pitch only dogs could hear, were mirroring the adults around them and staring.

You could cut the awkwardness with a butter knife. Poor Mr. Tanner looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. She had to do something.

“I’m starving. Let’s get the food going.” Fiona started to grab her macaroni casserole, but it was as big as the state of Rhode Island. Instantly Brendan reached out and lifted it for her. She put some on her plate and his. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

As if a switch had been flipped, everyone was taking food and passing platters around. Attention had been successfully diverted away from them.

Her relief was a little premature because when everyone had filled their plates it got quiet again. She said the first thing that popped into her mind. “So, Brendan, where did you learn to fix things?”

He finished chewing and swallowed before answering. “My dad taught me.”

“He must be very proud of you,” Fiona said.

“He was. He passed away not too long ago.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were automatic and felt so inadequate when a sort of sad, haunted look slipped into his eyes.

“Thanks.”

“I haven’t seen anything that Brendan can’t repair,” Luke said. “Your dad must have been a good teacher, and the skill he gave you is invaluable.”

Brendan looked thoughtful. “Funny you should say that. We didn’t have much, but dad’s knack for patching up what people threw out or paid him to fix put food on the table.”

“An honest living,” one of the men said.

“I suppose.” He looked down at the full plate of food in front of him. “Necessity was the mother I didn’t have.”

It was like a curiosity bomb went off in Fiona’s head. Follow-up questions exploded in her mind. But one of the triplets—Jared—made a bomb of his own and Fallon excused herself to change him.

The moment for interrogation passed when Hudson started talking to Brendan about horses. In Rust Creek Falls, that was like guys discussing cars anywhere else. It turned out that Brendan had worked on ranches in Texas for extra money. Was there anything he couldn’t do?

That wasn’t something she was going to ask. The less she knew about Brendan Tanner the better. She would bet he had a sad story, one that would engage her emotions. But he was a stranger and by his own admission was only in town temporarily. Matchmakers could throw them together until hell wouldn’t have it but they couldn’t make her play along.

Not again.

Chapter Two

Last night’s dinner ranked up there as one of the best meals Brendan ever had. He’d eaten enough to feed a whole platoon. The Stocktons were friendly and caring folks who opened their farm to a stranger looking for a fresh start and they kept on giving. He was grateful for that. If not for Fiona O’Reilly, he could check off every box of a perfect evening.

It was bad enough that she made the best macaroni and cheese he’d ever tasted, but she was also the sexiest mac-and-cheese maker he’d ever met. Her eyes were beautiful. That curvy body had him itching to touch her. And her smile promised heaven at the same time it sent him to hell. All night.

When he hadn’t tossed and turned from thinking about her, he’d been dreaming about having her in his bed. She was whip smart and wickedly funny, which was an irresistible combination. It meant danger up ahead, but only if he chose to go down that road. All he had to do was take a detour and avoid her.

That took care of his conscious mind. With luck the warning would filter down to his subconscious and keep her out of his dreams. He was a tumbleweed and she had deep roots here in Montana. Smart money was on sticking to his plan: get back in shape and reenlist in the Marine Corps where he belonged.

After an early morning run and workout, he went to the barn. Sunshine Farm made no demands on its guests but Brendan hated feeling useless and had gotten in the habit of helping feed the stock every morning. Today was no exception. He walked into the stable and grabbed a pitchfork to help spread hay for the horses.

Luke walked over and jammed his own long-handled tool into the bale. “Morning.”

“Back at you.”

“Glad you decided to join us for dinner last night. Any regrets?”

A few. None of which he’d talk about. “Best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Did I lie about the macaroni and cheese?”

“No.” Last night he’d been full and had still taken another helping. Eating for pleasure, which included the pleasure of rubbing elbows with the lady who’d made it.

“So, what do you think of Fiona?”

What did he think? Brendan was pretty sure that he was thinking about her more than he should be, and in ways that he didn’t want to. “I think she makes a mean macaroni.”

“Seriously? That’s it?”

“What else?” He sighed. “She seems nice.”

“I think she’s interested in you,” Luke commented. “Looked to me like there was a sparkle in her eyes when she stole glances at you.”

She was stealing glances at him? That didn’t suck. Then he shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”

“Nope. Eva saw it, too.”

“You talked to your wife about this?”

“We talk about everything. She’s my best friend, and then some,” Luke said. “Besides, in Rust Creek Falls, talking and spreading news is how we roll.”

He remembered Fiona saying something like that. “I think you’re both imagining things.”

“I disagree.”

“For the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right. The question is, why me? I’m boring.”

“You’re new in town and single. And—don’t take this the wrong way—but you’re not a bad-looking guy.”

“Stop. I’m blushing.” The corners of his mouth curved up.

Luke laughed. “And Fiona is single, too.”

“A woman who looks like her must have men lined up around the block.”

“Not so much.”

Brendan stuck his pitchfork in the bale of hay and leaned on it as he looked at the other man. “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her that.”

No, he wouldn’t be asking her anything, because it was unlikely there would be an opportunity to do that. “None of my business.”

“That could change.”

He grabbed the tool again, then forked up some hay and spread it in a nearby stall. “I don’t think so.”

“Time will tell.”

After that the two of them worked in silence until all the horses were taken care of. Brendan knew from being on ranches in Texas that these animals had small stomachs relative to their size and needed to be fed two to three times a day to maintain their weight. He made it a point to be around when that happened.

“Any other chores I can help with?” he asked.

Luke didn’t miss a beat before saying, “You can give serious consideration to opening a repair business here at Sunshine Farm.”

“You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

His friend smiled. “There is something. In a couple of days my brother Jamie is rounding up cattle from their summer grazing spot in the hills and bringing them back for the winter. I’m giving him a hand but he could use another man. You game? He’d be appreciative.”

“Glad to.”

“Good. Thanks.”

“Least I can do.” Brendan sincerely meant that. He was grateful to be here and wanted to give back. There was something about this sunshine-yellow barn that brightened the dark places inside him.

Luke left shortly after that and Brendan went to his temporary shop in the barn. On the worktable was a food processor he’d started to take apart yesterday, before impulsively giving in to Luke’s dinner invitation. The lady who dropped it off was annoyed that it crapped out right after the warranty was up. She didn’t give the thing much of a chance at a second life and told him not to waste too much time trying. The thing was, after his morning workout he had nothing but time.

He removed a couple of small screws to separate the outer casing from the motor in order to assess the problem. Just as he was pulling it apart, his cell phone rang. He tapped the answer icon.

“Hello.”

“Hey, it’s Fiona O’Reilly.”

“Oh. Hi.” His voice sounded rusty but he resisted the urge to clear his throat.

“Hi.” She hesitated a moment. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he lied. Hearing her voice brought back visions of her red hair and the teasing smile that had tension curling in his gut. “You?”

“Great.” Her voice sounded rusty, too, but she cleared her throat. “So, dinner last night was good.”

“Yeah. I’m not used to a spread like that.”

“If you stick around long enough, the calories will catch up to you.” She laughed ruefully. “I carry the proof of that on my hips.”

In his opinion her hips were perfect, along with the rest of her. But saying so seemed out of line. “I added an extra couple of miles to my morning run.”

“Speaking of running,” she said, “last night you disappeared after clearing the table and just before dessert. A less secure woman might think you were trying to get away from her.”

He had been, but not for the reason she probably thought. She was equal parts temptation and complication. Marines believed retreat wasn’t an option but he’d made an exception for her. Because he’d also been trained in survival.

“If I’d stayed any longer, I’d have had another helping of everything and that would’ve just been embarrassing.”

“Yeah. Eva outdid herself. She does the baking at Daisy’s Donuts, but she’s an all-around outstanding cook, too.”

“I found that out.” He waited for her to say something and when there was silence, he thought he’d lost her. “Fiona?”

“I’m here.” She cleared her throat again. “I have something to ask you.”

He frowned. Was it something he’d said at dinner? His remark about necessity being the mother he never had was one he wanted back in a big way. Bracing himself, he said, “Okay.”

“I was wondering if you could bring your fix-anything reputation out for a spin to my place and look at the tractor here on the ranch.”

Part of him wanted to say “no way,” but another part was ready to get there as fast as he could. Still, he was a civilian, a guest here, and that meant he needed to be especially polite to everyone because he owed the Stocktons.

“Look, Fiona, I don’t know if I’m the right guy—”

“Just a quick look. My dad usually can repair the ranch machinery but he’s stumped. I’ve called a repair shop in Kalispell but they can’t send someone for close to a week. It’s already October and winter is coming. There are time and weather-sensitive projects pending. You’d really be doing me a favor if you could swing by.”

That is a really bad idea, he thought. “I don’t know if that’s possible...” He let the words hang there, hoping she’d bail him out.

After several moments, she sighed. “That’s okay. It was just a thought. Apparently Luke mentioned to my father that you were handy with mechanical stuff and Dad asked me to call. But don’t worry about it. We’ll make do. Thanks anyway. I know you’re really busy.”

The disappointment in her voice grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. It felt like he’d just turned his back on a helpless kitten. Damn, hell and crap. “I’m not that busy. I’ll give it a look.”

“Really? I appreciate it so much. Thanks.”

He got directions, said he’d be right over, then disconnected the call and saved her number to his phone, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Suddenly Fiona O’Reilly had become his business and it ticked him off that Luke had been so right, so soon.

* * *

Fiona waited for Mr. Fix-it on the front porch. The interior of the O’Reilly family’s rambling ranch house wasn’t big enough for her and the nerves jumping around inside her. She hadn’t expected to see him at all and definitely not this soon. It made her wonder if fate was taking a page from Luke Stockton’s matchmaking book or just having a laugh at her expense.

She saw a black F-150 truck turn off the main road and head toward the house. That was a cue for the nerves to stop the jumping jacks, pull together and form a knot in her stomach. Why was she being such a twit? He was just another guy and didn’t even want to be here. She’d practically twisted his arm and he was simply doing it as a favor because she’d played the “Dad asked me to call you” card. Paddy O’Reilly would survive if Brendan had said no. But Brendan didn’t know that and now she had to see him.

The truck stopped in front of her and she noticed his Texas license plate in a United States Marine Corps frame. Pulling her denim jacket tighter against the chilly north wind, she left the porch to meet him as he exited the truck. Then he grabbed a red toolbox from the rear bed.

“Hey, thanks for coming.”

“No problem.” Politely he touched the brim of his Stetson. “If you’ll point me in the right direction, I’ll take a look at the tractor.”

“Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything? I’ve got an extra to-go mug. My father and brothers, Ronan and Keegan, use them all the time.” She was babbling and he was letting her. It wasn’t easy but she stopped talking.

“No coffee. Thanks anyway.”

“Okay. The tractor is parked in the shed down there next to the stable.”

“This is a nice spread,” he said as they walked. “I saw the sign as I drove in. Rusty Bucket Ranch. Interesting name.”

“Kind of whimsical but down to earth.” She smiled up at him. “My ancestors emigrated from Ireland. They made their living from the land and wanted to do that in America. So they came West and found this property. After buying it, as the tale goes, they had nothing left but a rusty bucket. The name stuck.”

“And they prospered.”

“Yeah. We have all this.” She gazed from the white, split rail corral fence and stable to the other ranch buildings and the barn her brothers had converted into their living space. “And a tractor that won’t start.”

“Let’s see what we can do to change that.” He followed her into the shed.

“You can set your toolbox on the worktable there.” She went to the other end and opened the doors to give him more light, then came back. Her breath caught when she saw that he’d removed his long-sleeved flannel shirt. The olive green T-shirt he wore under it was snug and fit him like a second skin that highlighted every luscious muscle.

She swallowed, then said, “So, here she is. Sorry about the tool explosion there. My dad left all his stuff out. He was going to take another look at it. Just between you, me and the goats, that would involve less looking and a lot more colorful language. When he’s working on this tractor, the words run more to the four-letter variety.”

While she nattered on, he’d opened the side panel to inspect the inside. Without looking up, he said, “What about you?”

“Oh, I’ve been known to swear, but only when necessary. And always in a ladylike way.” She heard him chuckle and that brought a smile to her face. Resting her back against the workbench, she settled in to keep him company. Hand him tools. Admire the way his back muscles moved and bunched under that snug shirt. Check out his world-class butt in the worn jeans. “And I guess I also have a way with words that are more than four letters.”

“How’s that?” He didn’t look up but kept poking around in the tractor engine.

“I write freelance articles about ranch life for farm and outdoor magazines.”

“What kind of articles?”

“A recent one was about recycling bent nails, rusty hinges and old bottles. A rancher’s motto is ‘Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without.’”

“I know all about that,” he said wryly.

She remembered him saying he’d grown up making do. “I’m working on an article now about preparing for the winter. Cold weather in Montana isn’t for sissies.”

“I bet.”

“So, between my writing job and chores on the ranch, I keep pretty busy.”

“Sounds like it. A good life.”

“It is. I love what I do.”

“You’re lucky.”

She couldn’t see his expression but there was a wistful tone in his voice. Since he had his head buried in the engine, this might be a good time to ask some of the questions that had been rolling around in her mind when she couldn’t sleep last night.

She’d hoped he would open up a little while ago when she called, but he didn’t. Maybe he would now. What was the worst that could happen? He’d take his tools and go home? She was willing to risk it.

“So, dinner last night was awkward. Did you notice how we got paired off?”

“Yup.” He still didn’t look at her. “This morning when I was helping with chores, Luke asked what I thought about you.”

“No. Really? What did you say?” That was unexpected.

“I told him you make a mean macaroni.”

And? Her heart skipped a beat waiting for...what? Didn’t matter because he didn’t come through with more. “At least you didn’t say I was mean.”

“Actually, I said you seem nice.”

“I think I am. But Luke was probably just making polite conversation. Not necessarily matchmaking.”

“There’s more. He underlined the fact that you’re single and I’m single.”

“And?” she prompted.

“And I asked him why you’re still single.”

“What did he say?”

“That I should ask you. So, why are you still single?”

“Because I’m not married,” she said.

“Smart-ass. So why aren’t you married?”

If that question had come up at dinner last night she would have been angry and defensive. With so many people watching her reaction, it would have felt too much like the public way she’d found out the man she’d expected a proposal from had cheated on her and gotten a girl pregnant. But now they were alone, and Brendan wasn’t even looking at her, so it felt like the solitude of the confessional.

“So many reasons for being single,” she started. “I’m too old—pushing thirty, a spinster by Old West standards. Not thin enough. Men seem to like stick women who have to run around in the shower to get wet. On top of that there are no men here in Rust Creek Falls—”

“Don’t look now but—” Without turning he lifted a greasy hand. “Man. Says so right on my driver’s license.”

“Okay. That last one deserves some context. I grew up in Rust Creek Falls. Spent my whole life here and most of the guys have, too. They’re friends of Ronan and Keegan and, by extension, like my brothers. So...ew. It’s too weird. That makes meeting men a challenge.”

“Okay. I respect your honesty.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Luke was just doing his part, then.”

“Exactly.” She beamed at him. “Look at you paying attention and participating in the conversation.”

“I’ve been told I’m too quiet. So I’ve been making an effort since I got out.”

By “out” she assumed he meant leaving the military. Since he was doing his best to take part, she’d give him an opportunity to share. Maybe the fact that he was elbow-deep in a tractor engine would help.

“I noticed your license plate holder. So you were a marine?”

“Yup. From Prosperity, Texas.” He picked up a tool from the workbench beside him. “I loved the Corps. It was a good career.”

She could hear respect, reverence and regret in his tone. And, frankly, he sounded a little lost. “Why did you leave, then?”

“My dad got sick. Cancer. I came home to be with him.”

“That must have been a difficult time. I bet you miss him.”

His movements stilled for a moment. “Yeah.”

Fiona knew about Luke and Eva’s plan to offer a stay at Sunshine Farm to someone going through a hard time in order to pay their happiness and good luck forward. They were always looking for someone in need of a fresh start. With these bits of information Brendan had revealed, she could see why they’d opened their arms to him. “So you’re trying to figure out what to be when you grow up?”

He didn’t answer but straightened from his troubleshooting position over the engine and climbed up on the tractor. The key was in the ignition and he turned it. Instantly the engine rumbled to life. He nodded. Anyone else would have pumped their arm or woo-hooed in triumph. A victory boot scoot wouldn’t be out of the question, either. But not this man. His reaction was quiet satisfaction.

He turned off the machine and climbed down. “Mission accomplished.”

“What did you do?”

“There were some wires way down in the belly, hard to see, right next to the housing for—”

She held up a hand to stop him. “My head will explode if you say one more word.”

“Okay.” He grinned as he grabbed a rag and wiped the worst of the grease off his hands.

The look was so darn cute it liquefied her brain cells. That’s when she realized talking to him without eye contact was much easier. Pull it together, Fiona, she told herself. “If my dad wants to know what you did I’ll just have him call you.”

“Okay.”

“Seriously, though, thank you so much. Come on up to the house and I’ll give you a check for your work. What do I owe you?”

Without missing a beat he said, “Dinner.”

That surprised her. This was business and usually that involved taking payment for one’s work. So maybe she’d misunderstood. “I’d be happy to buy you dinner, but—”

He shook his head. “A gentleman would never let a lady pay. I want to buy you dinner.”

She almost blurted out, “Shut the front door,” but managed to hold back. “Let me get this straight. You fixed my dad’s tractor and want to take me to dinner as payment?”

“Yes. Tomorrow night. On one condition.”

“What?” she asked, a little suspicious now.

He grabbed his flannel shirt, slung it over his broad shoulder by one finger and met her gaze. “Just you and me. No family.”

He wanted to be alone with her? Pinch me, she thought. This had to be a dream. A handsome man, single and sexy, was asking her out to dinner? This was shocking. She’d been so sure he was running away from her last night.

“Fiona?”

“Oh. Right.” She smiled. “I’d like that very much.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at six thirty. Is that okay?”

Heck, yes. But all she said was, “That would be fine.”

What in the world was she going to wear?

Chapter Three

What had he been thinking?

“Tanner, you’re an idiot. Asking the woman to dinner. In payment for services rendered, no less.” And now he was talking to himself. The downward spiral into hell was picking up speed and momentum.

His father must be turning over in his grave about this. He could just hear it. That’s no way to make a living. Since when do we not take money for our work?

Since the woman he did the work for looked like Fiona. That smile... When the tractor engine sputtered to life, she’d looked at him again as if he’d hung the moon. A man could get used to that.

“Knock, knock.”

Brendan turned away from his workbench and saw an older woman standing in the doorway. She was probably in her sixties, not very tall and had shoulder-length silver hair. There was spitfire in her eyes and a blender in her arms.

She moved closer and looked up at him. “Are you Brendan Tanner?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She held out her hand. “Edna Halstead.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Same here. Luke Stockton says you can fix anything.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I’m pretty good at repairs.” He nodded at the small appliance she was holding. “Having trouble with that?”

“Blasted thing just quit. They don’t make things like they used to. It’s practically new.”

“That’s always the way. I’ll see what I can do.”

She handed it over. “Just when I got my husband to drink protein shakes, too.”

“I’m guessing he’d be just as happy if I couldn’t fix this.” He put the base and pitcher on the workbench then looked back at her still staring at him. “Was there something else?”

“Mind looking at it now? I’d rather not make another trip out here. Unless you’re too busy...”

“No, ma’am.”

“Good. I wouldn’t expect it would take long. It isn’t the space station. If it’s a goner, I expect you’ll know that right away.”

“Yeah.” He picked up a small screwdriver to take apart the base.

“I don’t expect a lifetime warranty,” she said. “Still, you should get a little more time out of something.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s not expensive to get another one, but just on general principle I don’t want to do that.”

“No, ma’am.” He checked out all the connections and the cord, then cleaned and tightened anything that looked to be loose while the woman chattered away.

“The thing is, my husband, J.T., and I are retired and on a fixed income, so we have a budget.”

“Understood.”

“Are you military, Mr. Tanner?”

“Was.” And he missed it, even more after losing his dad. He missed his brothers. Missed doing work that was important. Now he had no mission, no focus except to be in the best possible physical shape for reenlisting.

“What branch of the service?” Her eyes glittered with interest.

“Marine Corps.”

“Semper fi. Your service is much appreciated and welcome home.”

“Thank you.” He stopped working and met her gaze. “Were you in the military?”

She shook her head. “Only by marriage. J.T. was a marine.”

“Vietnam?”

“Did my age give it away?” she teased.

“No, ma’am. What is it they say? Fifty is the new forty?”

She laughed. “I’m a little north of that. Almost seventy. And you know it.”

“Doesn’t show. And what I know is a lot of service members who served their country during that conflict were never properly welcomed home. That wasn’t right.”

“No.” Her mouth pulled tight for a moment. “Since then folks have learned to separate service to country from politics. Hopefully that will never happen again. Some make the ultimate sacrifice. Others live with physical disabilities.”

Something in her expression said she knew about that. “Your husband?”

“He lost a leg—above the knee.”

“Sorry to hear that, ma’am.”

“Stop calling me that. ‘Ma’am’ makes me feel like I lived through the Revolutionary War. Edna, Ed or Eddie will do.”

“Yes, ma—” He saw her glare and stopped. “Eddie.”

“Good choice.” She grinned. “And don’t be feeling sorry for J.T. He’s taken it in stride, if you’ll pardon the pun. He’s one tough marine. The few—”

“The proud. The Marines,” he finished.

“Oorah.”

He closed up the blender base. “There’s no real obvious sign of trouble. I tightened a few loose wires and made sure the rest was shipshape. Let’s plug it in and see.”

“Sure do hope you’re as good as Luke claims.”

“Here goes.” He saw her cross her fingers.

He plugged in the blender and with one last look at her he pushed a button. The thing came to life and the woman smiled her appreciation.

“Looks like you’re back in the protein shake business,” he told her. “Hope your husband is happy, too.”

“He’d rather have his bacon, eggs and fried potatoes. But we have a deal. A healthy breakfast earns a scoop of ice cream after dinner.”

“Seems fair.”

“He doesn’t think so but we both know who the commanding officer is.”

“Skipper.” Brendan saluted. “Only an idiot would mix it up in a skirmish like that.”

“Speaking of idiots...” There was a gleam in her eyes. “What woman did you ask to dinner?”

He froze. “What?”

“You were mumbling to yourself about it when I came in.”

“You heard that?” he asked.

“It’s a popular misconception that all old people are hard of hearing. For the record, there’s nothing wrong with my ears. You apparently are having second thoughts about asking a woman to dinner. So I’d like to know what woman we’re talking about and I can tell you whether or not you’re right about being an idiot.”

He already knew he was. He momentarily toyed with the idea of saying we weren’t talking about anything, but something told him Eddie Halstead would have a big problem with that response.

“I fixed a tractor at the Rusty Bucket Ranch earlier today and—”

“Fiona O’Reilly.” It took her all of a second and a half to put it together.

“How did you know?”

“You don’t seem the type to hit on a married woman. Her sisters, Fallon and Brenna, are. To Jamie Stockton and Travis Dalton respectively.” She nodded firmly. “Since Fiona is the last single O’Reilly daughter and lives on the Rusty Bucket Ranch, she must be the woman in question.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“And you’re not an idiot,” she said. “Why would you think so? She’s beautiful, smart and dependable.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Bravo Sierra,” she snapped, using marine slang for BS. “That just means you don’t want to talk about it.”

She was dead-on about that. “Look, if it’s all the same to you—”

“Eddie Halstead.” Luke walked in and gave the older woman a big hug. “I saw your car outside and had to come and say hello.”

“Good to see you, Luke.” She glanced at Brendan. “You were right about him. He fixed my blender.”

“So, J.T. will be back in the business of drinking his breakfast,” the rancher guessed.

“A shake is healthier than bacon and eggs,” she said stubbornly. “Especially if he’s going to keep up with his chores.”

“Eva would agree with that.”

“And my stubborn man isn’t getting any younger. He’s got arthritis in his hands and one good leg. These days, climbing on a ladder is like a combat mission.” She looked from Brendan to Luke. “He’s pretty handy but I don’t like him on a ladder. Ladder fall figures increase with age and physical condition. The man is sixty-eight years old, although you wouldn’t know it to look at him. Don’t tell him I said that. The point is, he’s too old to be on a ladder even if he had two good legs. Gonna make putting up Halloween decorations a challenge this year.”

“I’d be happy to help out.” Brendan looked at her. “Say the word and I’ll swing by.”

“Come to think of it,” she said as she tapped her lip. “The refrigerator is making a funny noise.”

“Make a list,” he said.

“I would sure appreciate it. The thing is, J.T.’s proud, if you get my drift.”

“Sure do,” Brendan said. “But if he gives you any trouble, just tell him it’s one marine helping out a brother.”

“I don’t want to take up your time,” she said.

“He’s got plenty to spare,” Luke interjected.

“Seems so,” Eddie said. “He just fixed the O’Reilly’s tractor and instead of taking money he’s taking Fiona out to dinner.”

“Well, well.” Luke grinned. “All because of a house call.”

“Marines work fast,” the older woman said.

Luke snapped his fingers. “I just had an idea. You could expand the repair shop and go mobile with it. For the things people can’t drop off.”

“Now why would I want to do that?” Brendan asked.

“Because making money is a good thing,” Eddie said. “Unless you ask all of your customers to dinner. Then you’re flirting with a negative cash flow.”

“Understood,” Brendan told her. “But that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to make long-term plans.”

“How’s that?” she asked.

“Because I’m only here temporarily.”

“Why?” she asked. “You have somewhere better to be?”

That’s what he was here to figure out.

* * *

No matter how many times she reminded herself that Brendan wasn’t staying permanently, Fiona couldn’t tamp down her excitement to see him. Telling herself this wasn’t a date didn’t help, either. For some reason it was how he was taking payment for fixing the tractor.

And that was where her thought process went off the rails. He wouldn’t accept money but wanted to take her to dinner. Maybe he wanted more than that, but she didn’t think so. If that didn’t go to a girl’s head, she was the Queen of England. The logical conclusion was that he wanted to see her. Alone. Without family.

And she was stoked.

She’d even bought a new dress—a hunter green, long-sleeved knit that minimized her curves even as it hugged them. A contradiction that paralleled the coming social occasion she refused to call a date. The dress’s hem teased the top of her new low-heeled, knee-high black leather boots. They were a splurge, but when she got paid for her latest article, her budget would be just fine. Tonight it was important to look like a woman, not a ranch hand.

She checked out her appearance in the full-length, free-standing mirror in her bedroom, the one she used to share with Fallon and Brenna. There were times, like now, when she missed her sisters being around to tell her whether or not the neckline of this dress was too plain and begged for jewelry. If her hair was too curly, too straight or just right. Did her newly perfected smoky eye make her look like a hooker?

Brenna would always flop on the bed and give her two cents. You look too prudish. Lower the neckline, shorten the skirt. Show more skin. A little cleavage couldn’t hurt.

Fiona turned from side to side, studying the way the soft material clung to her breasts. “Make him wonder about what he can’t see,” she told her reflection.

The first time they met she’d looked like a pig wrestler. Yesterday she’d had time to brush her hair and put on some tinted sunscreen along with sheer lip gloss. Tonight she was going for something between demure and dynamite. Just to show him she could. If only her sisters were here to confirm that she’d pulled it off.

Fiona glanced at the clock beside her bed and her heart skipped a beat. He would be here soon. There was still time to tone it down if her mother thought she’d gone too far.

Grabbing her heavy wool shawl and black clutch purse, she headed downstairs, where Maureen O’Reilly was fixing dinner. The kitchen was a big, open room with lots of counter space, a farm sink and a big round oak table with eight chairs. Years ago, when all of them had been under one roof, they’d totaled seven.

Now, Fallon and Brenna were happily married and sharing living space with their respective husbands. Her older brothers, Ronan and Keegan, had bachelor quarters here on the ranch where they worked. The two showed no sign of settling down and it worked for them. Her mother was thrilled to have them close by.

Maureen was checking something in the oven, then straightened and turned when she heard Fiona’s footsteps on the wood floor. “Hey, sweetie. You look beautiful. That emergency shopping trip yesterday afternoon really paid off.”

Fiona looked down at the slightly flared skirt and smoothed her palms over her hips. Unlike Fallon and Brenna, their mother might sugarcoat her opinion.

“You don’t think it’s too—”

“It’s not too anything.” She set pot holders on the counter beside the pot simmering on the stove. “Not too dressy, just casual enough.”

That had been the challenge since Fiona didn’t know where they were going to dinner. “Really?”

“Yes.”

The back door opened and in walked her tall, handsome, brown-haired, blue-eyed brothers. Women were drawn to them like dieters to donuts. And both stopped dead in their tracks when they saw her.

Ronan, the oldest, whistled. “Look at you. Got a hot date?”

Brendan was hot, but this wasn’t technically a date. “I’m going out.”

“With who?” Keegan asked.

“No one you know,” she hedged.

“How do you know who we know?” her oldest brother challenged her.

Instead of answering, Fiona blew out a breath and met her mother’s gaze. “Why are they here?”

“It’s pot roast night,” Keegan said, as if that explained why these two, who often fended for themselves, had shown up for dinner.

“So what?” She knew she sounded like a ten-year-old, but it couldn’t be helped. The knuckleheads would not help get her to a Zen place before Brendan showed up. In fact, they’d do just the opposite. “Mom could fix pheasant under glass and the two of you couldn’t be counted on to put in an appearance.”

“Are we unreliable?” Ronan asked his mother.

“Yes.”

He walked over and affectionately slid his arm across her shoulders. “Am I still your favorite?”

“I do not have favorites where my children are concerned. I can, however, confirm that you are still the oldest of five.”

“And Fiona is the oldest girl.” There was a teasing gleam in Keegan’s eyes that women seemed to find adorable, if Rust Creek Falls gossip was anything to go by. “She’s the only one of my sisters still here for dinner. Oh, wait, she’s wearing a dress. The world has gone crazy.”

“I’ve changed my mind—” she started to say before Keegan interrupted her.

“Along with your tomboy look.”

“It’s official,” she said. “Brenna isn’t the dramatic one. You are.”

“I’m Irish.” Keegan grinned. He was awfully cute when he did that. “Drama is a badge of honor.”

“And so is being good with words,” Ronan pointed out. “Which you are, sis. You’ve verbally danced around the question of who you are going out with. Now, fess up. Who did you put on a pretty new dress for tonight?”

“What are you? The fashion police? You don’t know that it’s new.” Since when did he get hit with the observant stick?

“You’re deflecting again,” he countered. “This could be serious.”

“Or, to say it a different way,” Keegan chimed in, “what poor, unsuspecting guy are you trying to snag?”

“That’s ridiculous,” she countered.

“Is it?” He arched an eyebrow and held up three fingers while he ticked off his reasons. “Oldest girl. Still not married. Pushing the big three-oh.”

“I’d like to push you off a cliff,” she mumbled. “And for your information, not that you deserve any consideration, but I am not looking for a husband. I don’t need one to enjoy a full and happy life.”

“That’s very enlightened of you.” Keegan nodded approvingly. “I could have told you that. All you had to do was ask.”

“Can we talk about the fact that you’re alone?” Fiona made a scoffing sound. “Because, judging by your track record, you are the very last person I would take advice from.”

“Why me?” There was mock innocence on her brother’s face. “Ronan is the one who set you up with Tate Gibbs.”

A new guy in town that he’d met at Ace in the Hole, the local cowboy bar. The jerk had turned out to be a liar and cheat.

She noticed a guilty expression on her oldest brother’s face. In spite of her annoyance with these two, she didn’t want him to feel bad about what happened. Ultimately she’d made the choice to fall for her ex. It was her own bad judgment that got her heart broken. Lesson learned.

“I’m not looking to get married,” she said firmly. “I’ve stopped looking for a man. Period.”

“Keep an open mind, honey.” Up until now their mother had stayed out of the verbal volley and simply listened. Now, though, she stepped in. “When you least expect it, that’s when love will happen. When you’ve stopped looking, it will find you.”

Another tired saying that should be stitched on a sampler and hung on the wall. Fiona envied her parents’ thirty-plus years of marriage. They were still happy and deeply in love, stealing kisses like teenagers when they thought no one was watching. More than once someone would teasingly tell them to get a room. But that kind of love was exactly what she wanted. It just didn’t seem as if it was in the cards for her. And there was no way she’d settle for less.

Brendan Tanner was intriguing, she would give him that. And there was something inherently heroic about him. The way he’d handled little Jared with patience and kindness spoke to how he would be with kids of his own. And the fact that he was taking her to dinner instead of letting her pay him to fix the tractor made him seem like a really good man. But she’d been wrong before.

He was basically another stranger in town and she was definitely against getting burned again. He was certainly a pretty package and she was curious about him. But her only goal was one nice evening out.

Before she could tell the boys to go jump in the lake, the back door opened again and her father walked in, followed by his dog, Duchess. Paddy O’Reilly was a big, handsome man and his sons took after him. That was even more painfully clear when he stopped and stared at her the way they had.

“No one told me we were dressing up for dinner tonight,” he said, absently rubbing the dog’s golden head.

“Fiona’s not eating here,” Maureen told him.

“She has a date but won’t tell us who she’s going out with,” Keegan informed his father.

“Whoever he is, he’s a very lucky man.” Paddy’s eyes were filled with paternal pride. “You’re the image of your mother and she had the men falling all over themselves for a chance with her.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Fiona felt a lump in her throat.

“So who is this fortunate fella?” His eyes twinkled, proof he knew he wasn’t fooling her. Information was what he wanted. “Are we going to have an opportunity to meet him?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Oh, dear God. He would be here any minute and she wanted to spare him the awkward family once-over. Now the guardians of the Galaxy were standing shoulder to shoulder, ready to grill the guy. The poor man had done them a favor and this was how they repaid him!

With her shawl and purse in hand, she turned on her heel and hurried to the living room, planning to slip out the door. But the plan was doomed to failure and if she wasn’t so darn nervous that would have been clear to her.

All of them followed in her wake, including her mother. They were assembled behind her like the Atlantic Wall on D-day. And before she could even tell them to back off, there was a firm knock on the front door.

This was going to be a disaster. The worst part was that she actually cared her night was going up in flames. And not in a good way.

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