Thunderbolt over Texas

He stared at the perfectly gorgeous creature in front of him and tried to make sense out the situation. Was this a joke?

“Did Kyle put you up to this?” he asked.

“Who’s Kyle?”

“My brother.”

She shook her head and all that auburn hair fanned out around her perfectly made-up face. “It wasn’t your brother, and it wasn’t your grandmother.”

“Then who?”

“Me.”

He paused again. “You seriously expect me to believe you came all the way from New York—”

“Yes, I do.” She reached into her clutch purse and pulled out a business card.

He read it. Sure enough, Laurent Museum. Okay, now he was just getting annoyed. The Thunderbolt wasn’t a commodity to be bartered. It was a trust, a duty. “So was that breakdown nothing but a setup?”

“What breakdown?”

“Your car.”

“My car is fine.”

“Your car is fried.”

“You know, I just proposed to you.”

He stood up. “And you thought I’d say yes?”

“I’d hoped—”

“In what universe?” His voice rose, bouncing off the cabin walls. He was offended, offended on behalf of his grandmother, his ancestors and his heirs. “In what universe would I agree to marry a complete stranger and give away a family heirloom?”

She stood, too. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean—”

“I have horses to shoe.” He was done listening. She could fix her own car for all he cared, or call a taxi or hoof it up to the main road.

“Right now?” she asked.

“Right now.” He scooped a battered Stetson from a hook on the wall and stuffed it on his head.

Sydney watched Cole march out of the small log cabin. Okay, that hadn’t gone quite as well as she’d hoped. But then again, he hadn’t really given her a chance to explain. She wasn’t trying to steal the Thunderbolt. She merely wanted to display it for a few months.

She was pulling together a Viking show exceptional enough for front gallery space at the Laurent. With the Thunderbolt as the centerpiece, she would thwart Bradley Slander and save her career. All she needed was the cooperation of one cowboy.

She moved to the cabin door and watched him head up a rise while she contemplated her next move.

The man had the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen. Solid as an oak tree, he had a confident stride and a butt that could stop traffic. She watched for a few more steps, then she forced her gaze away. His butt was irrelevant. The marriage would be in name only.

Her focus had to be on the brooch, not on the man. It wasn’t as if she could put Cole on display in the front gallery. Although…

She squelched a grin and glanced at the rental car.

A breakdown, huh? Car trouble could be her ticket to more time with him. Swallowing the dregs of her coffee, she made up her mind. If that baby wasn’t broken down now, it soon would be.

She waited until Cole disappeared over the hill. Then she popped the hood, yanked out some random wires and closed it up again, hoping she’d done some serious damage.

Dusting off her hands, she tucked her clutch purse under her arm and headed up the hill.

Three-inch heels were definitely not the best choice for the Erickson Ranch. Neither was a straight skirt and loose hair. By the time she closed in on Cole, she was disheveled and out of breath. She’d scratched her hand ducking through a barbed-wire fence, got a cactus stuck to the toe of her shoe and attracted a pair of horseflies that were now moving in for the kill.

Cole looked completely unfazed by the climb. He stood a hundred yards away, on the crest of the hill, with a coiled rope in one hand. He raised his thumb and index finger to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle that she was willing to bet would get the attention of every cab driver on Fifth Avenue.

The ground rumbled beneath her feet and she took an involuntary step backward. Then she forced herself to hold still and sucked in a bracing breath. If it was a stampede, it was a stampede.

The Thunderbolt had the power to launch her career to the stratosphere. And she’d studied too long and too hard to quit now. Better to be trampled to death trying to get her hands on it than give up and become a tour guide.

A herd of some twenty horses appeared on the ridge, their manes and tails flowing in a wave of black, brown and silver. In the face of their onslaught, Cole stood his ground. He lifted his battered cowboy hat and waved it in the air. The herd slowed, parted around him, then shuffled to a stop.

Okay. Now that was sexy.

And she wasn’t dead.

The day was looking up.

Cole captured a big gray horse and led it through a gate. Sydney quickly followed. She was intimidated by the big animal, but she was more frightened of the two dozen of his friends they were leaving behind.

Cole tied up the horse then ran his hands soothingly along its neck. “Was there something about my no that was ambiguous?” he asked Sydney.

She found a log to perch on and gingerly plucked at the little round cactus on her shoe. Her skirt would probably be ruined, but that couldn’t be helped. She played dumb. “You said no?”

He turned to stare at her for a moment. “Just in case you missed it the first time, no.”

“You haven’t heard me out.”

“You’re trying to steal my family heirloom. What’s to hear out?” With a firm pat on the horse’s neck, he headed for a nearby shack.

She scrambled to her feet and followed. “I wasn’t going to keep the brooch.”

He opened the door. “Ah. Well, in that case…”

Her spirits rose. “Yes?”

“No.” His answer was flat as he retrieved a wooden box and a battered metal stand.

Once again, he hadn’t let her give enough information for a logical decision. “Are you always this unreasonable?”

“Yes.”

“You are not.”

He pulled the door shut. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Will you at least listen to my offer?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Have you ever listened to the wedding vows?”

“Of course.”

He started back to the horse. “There’s a little thing in there about loving and honoring and till death do us part. And there’s generally a preacher standing in front of you, along with your family and friends when you make those promises.”

Sydney hesitated. She hadn’t actually thought through the details of the ceremony. She’d pictured something in a courthouse, a minimum number of words, mail-order wedding bands and a chaste kiss at the end.

“I could honor you,” she offered.

He stopped and turned, leaning slightly forward to pin her with a midnight-blue stare. “Could you love me?”

Sydney stilled. What kind of a question was that?

His gaze bore into hers, searching deep, as if sifting through her hopes and fears.

She knew how to love. She’d loved her foster parents. She loved her mother. But those loves turned bittersweet when her parents died in the house fire and her aging foster parents passed away five years ago.

“Hey there, Cole,” came a laughing feminine voice.

Sydney quickly pulled back, shaking off the unsettling memories.

Cole focused his attention over her shoulder.

“Hey, Katie.” He nodded.

“You been holding out on us?” asked the voice.

Sydney turned to see a woman on horseback come to a stop in front of the little shed. She had shoulder-length brown hair tied back in a ponytail. A cowboy hat dangled between her shoulder blades, and her burgundy shirt and crisp blue jeans made her look as if she had ridden out of a Western movie.

Her saddle leather creaked as she dismounted.

“What?” asked Cole. “You wanted to shoe the horses?”

The woman smirked as she led her chestnut horse forward. Then her smile turned friendly and she stretched her hand out to Sydney. “Katie Erickson. Cole’s sister-in-law.”

Sydney reached out to shake the woman’s surprisingly strong hand. “Sydney Wainsbrook.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Katie. She glanced speculatively at Cole for a split second before returning her attention to Sydney. “And what brings you to Blue Earth Valley?”

Sydney took in Cole’s determined expression and decided she had little to lose. “I’m here to marry Cole.”

He sputtered an inarticulate sound.

But Katie shrieked in delight and her horse startled. “So you were holding out on us.”

“She’s only after the Thunderbolt,” said Cole, planting the metal stand with disgust.

But Katie’s attention was all on Sydney. “How long have you known him? Where did you meet?” Her gaze strayed to Sydney’s bare fingers. “Did he propose yet?”

“I proposed to him.”

“She’s after the Thunderbolt,” Cole repeated. “She’s a con artist.”

“I’m a museum curator. I want to display the Thunderbolt. But I really am willing to marry him.”

“She’s—” Cole threw up his hands, turning to pace back to the horse. “Forget it.”

Katie called after him. “Don’t be so hasty, Cole. It sounds like a good offer. And you’re not getting any younger, you know.”

He muttered something unintelligible.

Katie laughed, turning back to Sydney. “From a museum, you say?”

“The Laurent.”

“In New York?”

“Yes.”

Katie’s reaction to the proposition wasn’t nearly as negative as Cole’s. Maybe she would listen to reason. Maybe she would even have some influence over her brother-in-law.

“I was planning to display the Thunderbolt temporarily,” said Sydney, keeping her voice loud enough to be sure Cole would hear. “It would only be a loan.”

“How did you know it went to his wife?” asked Katie.

“Research.”

“And how did you know he wasn’t already married?”

“More research.” Sydney raised her voice again. “I was thinking of something simple and temporary. At the courthouse.”

“A marriage of convenience,” Katie nodded.

“Right.”

“And how would that be convenient for me?” Cole’s hammer came down on a metal horseshoe and the rhythmic clanks echoed through the pasture.

“You could think of it as a public service,” said Sydney.

“I’m not altruistic.”

“You’d bring an important antiquity to the attention of the world.”

“It’s a private possession.”

“It would only be a loan.”

“Why don’t you give up?”

While Sydney formulated a response, Katie spoke up. “Why don’t you come for dinner instead?”

“Katie,” Cole stressed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“We can talk about it, Cole,” said Katie. “No harm in talking about it.”

Sydney felt a surge of hope. She definitely had an ally in Katie.

“You two can do whatever you want,” said Cole, going back to hammering. “But I’m not coming to dinner.”

“Of course you are,” said Katie.

“Nope.”

“I’ll send Kyle after you.”

“Good luck with that.”

Katie put her hands on her hips and arched one eyebrow.

“You really need to do something about your wife,” said Cole as he leaned on the rail next to the barbecue where his brother was grilling steaks.

Kyle closed the cast-iron lid and joined Cole. “It’s not my fault you can’t say no to her.”

“Can you say no to her?”

“Why would I want to say no to her?”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”

Cole folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t you ever need to just put your foot down and lay out the logic?”

Kyle laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

“How can a man live with somebody orchestrating his every move?”

“Are we talking about Katie or Sydney?”

“Katie’s helping Sydney. And we’re talking about women in general.”

“And your fear of them.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Then why are you freaking out over Sydney’s idea?”

Cole peered at his brother, squinting in the dying light of the sunset. “Are you seriously suggesting I marry a stranger and give her the Thunderbolt?”

“She’s from a museum, not some crime family. I’m only suggesting you hear her out.”

Katie appeared in the doorway, a big wooden salad bowl clasped in her hands. “Hear who out?”

“Sydney,” said Kyle.

“Oh, good,” said Katie. “We’re just in time.”

Sydney appeared behind her with a basket of rolls, and Cole did an involuntary double take. She’d removed her jacket and her silk, butter-yellow blouse highlighted the halo of her rich, auburn hair. Her rounded breasts pressed against the thin fabric, and a small flash of her stomach peeked out between the hem of her blouse and the waistband of her skirt.

“Can you open the wine?” Katie asked Cole.

“Uh, sure,” said Cole, with a mental shake, telling himself to quit acting like a teenager. He reached for the corkscrew.

“I was the high bid on Night-Dreams,” he said to his brother, not so subtly changing the direction of the conversation.

Kyle shot him a knowing grin but played along. “Planning to use Sylvester as a sire?”

Cole popped the cork on the bottle of merlot. “Come next spring, it’s the start of a whole new bloodline.”

After Sydney set the rolls down on the table, Cole automatically pulled out her chair. She accepted with a smile of thanks, and the scent of her perfume wafted under his nose.

“That reminds me,” said Kyle from the other side of the table. “I need your signature on a contract with Everwood.” He transferred the sizzling steaks from the grill to a wooden platter. “Gave me my price. He’ll take all the beef we can supply.”

Cole masked a spurt of frustration by focusing on the wine-pouring. He hated that Kyle had to run to him for every little signature. His brother was an incredibly talented cattleman, and the tradition that put the ranch solely in the name of the eldest son was archaic and unfair.

“Way to go,” he said to Kyle, setting out the glasses. “You always were the brains of the outfit.”

Kyle scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Cole pulled out his own chair and held up his glass in a toast to his brother’s advantageous deal. “I’m dead serious about that.”

“Are we going to talk shop all night?” asked Katie, sitting down.

Simultaneously, Cole said yes while Kyle said no. They both sat down.

Sydney leaned forward. “Maybe we could talk about my shop.”

“I’m deeding you half the ranch,” Cole said to Kyle, without so much as glancing in Sydney’s direction.

Those words had the effect he was looking for. The air went flat-dead silent. The barbecue hissed once, and a sparrow chirped from the poplar trees.

“I talked to a tax lawyer in Dallas last week,” Cole continued, reaching for a roll. “About our options.”

“Cole,” Kyle cautioned.

“I figure we can subdivide along Spruce Ridge, then follow the creek bed to the road.”

Kyle planted the butt of his steak knife on the wooden table. “Stop.”

“I’m going to do it,” said Cole.

“Oh, no, you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Boys,” Katie interrupted.

“Oh, yes, I can,” said Kyle. “I won’t accept.”

“It’s not up to you.” Cole took a breath. The guilt on this one had been burning inside him for a long time. He wasn’t about to back off. “Sometimes a man has to put his foot down and make decisions that are in the best interest of his family.”

“Was that a slam?” asked Kyle.

“No.”

“It sounded like a slam.”

Cole dropped the roll to his plate, regretting his choice of words. “I didn’t mean that. I meant, a man needs his own land.”

“Kyle?” Katie tried again. “Cole?”

“You saying all these years I haven’t had my own land.”

That threw Cole. “Of course not.”

“There you go.”

“What about your kids?”

Kyle clenched his jaw but remained silent.

Cole hoped that meant his brother was running low on arguments. “You need to build a legacy for your kids.” He rushed on. “You need to leave them something. If you won’t think of yourself, think about your children.”

Sydney’s hand touched Cole’s thigh. His muscle immediately convulsed and he shot her a stunned look.

“Let’s move on,” said Kyle, a steely thread to his voice.

Cole looked back at his brother. “Let’s agree to go to Dallas and talk to the lawyers.”

Sydney’s fingernails tightened, jolting Cole’s nervous system.

What the hell was she doing?

“It’s not just you anymore,” Cole said to Kyle. “You have a family—”

Sydney pinched him. It actually hurt.

He swung his gaze back to her, but caught Katie’s expression on the way.

He stopped.

He stared at his sister-in-law’s white lips. “Katie?”

Kyle pulled back his chair as Katie started to tremble.

Katie stood and Kyle rose with her.

“What?” Cole jumped up. “What’s wrong?”

Katie gave a little shake of her head and waved away their concern. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” said Cole.

She placed her hand on Kyle’s arm. “I’m really okay. I’m just going to get a glass of water.”

Kyle put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. “You sure?” he whispered.

She nodded. “Really. The less fuss, the better. I’ll be right back.”

Kyle watched her disappear into the kitchen.

Cole raked a hand through his hair, trying to sift through the turn of events. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What the heck…”

“Can I help?” Sydney asked Kyle.

Kyle closed his eyed and dropped back into his chair. He shook his head. “It’s the talk of kids.”

Cole slowly sat, opening his mouth to ask for an explanation, but Sydney’s fingers closed on his thigh again.

He felt like a bull in a china shop. What was he missing here?

“She hoped to be pregnant by now,” said Kyle.

Cole went cold.

Sydney tossed her napkin onto the table. “I am going to make sure she’s okay.”

Both men rose with her.

After Sydney disappeared, Kyle moved restlessly to the rail, taking a long, steady swig of his wine.

Cole followed, not sure of what to say. He and Kyle didn’t exactly have heart-to-heart talks about their sex lives, never mind their sperm counts. Was this a medical problem? Did they need to see a doctor?

“Are you…” he began. “Uh, do you…”

“The doctor thinks it’s stress,” said Kyle. “But we don’t know anything for sure, and Katie’s worried she’ll never have kids.”

Cole could have kicked himself. “And I was a big help.”

Kyle snorted out a dry chuckle as he gazed out over the Blue Hills. “Next time, watch my expression and grab a clue.”

“Next time I’ll pay attention when Sydney mangles my thigh.” Cole regretted his bull-headed stupidity. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Get married and have some babies so Katie doesn’t have this whole dynasty thing on her shoulders.”

“That would be a trick.”

“Hey, you’ve got a bona fide offer in my kitchen.”

“We could have a bona fide con artist in your kitchen. Besides, Sydney doesn’t want babies, she wants the Thunderbolt. I’m pretty sure this is a platonic offer.”

Kyle turned to face Cole. He braced his elbow on the rail and a speculative gleam rose in his eyes.

“What?” asked Cole, dragging the word out slowly, trepidation rising.

“You wouldn’t really have to have babies with Sydney,” said Kyle. “You’d just have to let Katie think you’ll have babies with Sydney.”

“That’s insane.” And even if it wasn’t, Katie knew why Sydney was here. There’s no way they’d ever convince her they were having babies together.

“No.” Kyle shook his head. “It’s brilliant. You pretend to fall in love with her, pretend to marry her for real. She gets the brooch and Katie relaxes enough to get pregnant.”

“And I get a wife I don’t know, who doesn’t love me, won’t sleep with me but takes my jewelry?”

Kyle took another swig of his wine. “I’m sure you’re not the first guy that’s happened to.”

Cole snorted.

Kyle clapped him on the shoulder. “You get the satisfaction of knowing you put your foot down and made a decision that was best for your family.”

“Somehow I don’t think this is me putting my foot down.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“I never said that.” How could Cole justify getting married on the off chance it would help Katie get pregnant? Then again, how could he justify not getting married if there was a chance it could help Katie get pregnant?

“We’d be lying to your wife,” he pointed out to Kyle, looking for some loophole that didn’t make him the bad guy.

“No, we wouldn’t. We wouldn’t have to say a thing. Katie’s a hopeless romantic. Trust me, she’s going to throw you and Sydney together no matter what you and I decide. All you’d have to do is hang around and look besotted.”

“I don’t do besotted.”

“Just look at Sydney the way you were looking at her before dinner.”

“I haven’t—”

“That was more aroused than besotted, I’ll admit. But it should work.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“She’s a babe, Cole. It’s not like it would be this huge hardship.”

Alarm crept into Cole’s system as Kyle’s words started to make some kind of bizarre sense. He couldn’t consider this. Then again, he couldn’t not consider this.

“This is the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard,” he said. “Take Katie on a vacation. She can relax on the beach. I’ll pay.”

“She’ll worry about you.”

“She doesn’t have to worry about me.”

“I know that, and you know that, but Katie…”

It was Cole’s turn to gaze at the dark hillsides across the lake. “You know, this morning things were looking pretty good for me. I’d just bought a new mare. I was minding my own business, thinking about shoeing, thinking about building a new hay shed, maybe buying a combine…”

Kyle started to laugh.

“Then along comes Sydney Wainsbrook and suddenly she’s taking over my life.”

“Kyle?” Katie called from the kitchen.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he called back.

“Do you think it’s too late for Sydney to drive to Wichita Falls all by herself?”

“Of course it’s too late.” Kyle waggled a victorious eyebrow at Cole. “It’s way too late.”

“She’s going to stay over,” Katie called.

“Sounds good.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Cole muttered to his brother.

“You have the easy part,” said Kyle. “Just hang around and look besotted.”

“I’m going home.”

“Come back for breakfast.”

“Nope.”

“I’ll send Katie after you.”

“Good luck with that.”

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