TEXAS LULLABY (Book One of The Morgan Men series: coming Summer '08) "A lovely romance: The first of the Morgan brothers to take up the challenge of their father makes for an interesting contemporary romance. The fun in the tale is actually with how the two little kids, especially Penny can wrap the tough combat vet with one sad flicker of her lips he cannot handle her crying. Fans will enjoy kick-butt Gabriel getting his butt kicked by a mom and her kids." —Harriet Klausner BUY THE BOOK: IndieBound | Amazon | Barnes & Noble EXCERPT "What doesn't kill a man makes him stronger."—Josiah Morgan's parting advice to his teenaged sons when they walked out of his life Chapter One The four Morgan brothers shared an unspoken belief, if nothing else: stubbornness equated strength. A man who didn't have stubborn etched into his bones hadn't yet grown into big boots. Some people used the word "jackasses" to describe the family of four brothers, but the Morgans preferred to think of themselves as independent loners. Women wanted to relieve their "loneliness." The Morgans had no problem breaking with their routine for beautiful women bent on their relief. Fortunately, most people in Union Junction, Texas, understood that solitude as a way of life was a good thing, if it was by choice. The Morgan brothers were moving to Union Junction not by choice, but for two different reasons: the solitude, which they'd learned about from some family acquaintances, the Jeffersons. Men after their own heart, the Jeffersons weren't loners, but they hadn't exactly been hanging out in bars every night sobbing about their sad lives before they'd all found the religion of love. They appreciated the need to be left the hell alone. Actually, that was just a cover for the real reason Gabriel Morgan had come home. He stared at the two story sprawling farmhouse set amongst native pecan trees and shouldered by farmland. This was the real reason the Morgans were called to relocate in Union Junction, and the first thing they'd all agreed on in years: none of them were too happy about finding themselves the keeper of a large ranch. Five thousand acres as well as livestock—what the hell were they supposed to do with it? This was Pop's place. Light-footed Pop and his farflung dreams, buying houses and land like he was buying up parts of earth to keep him alive and vital. Pop was a true jackass. Selling the ranch had been the first thing on Gabriel's mind—he was pretty certain his brothers would agree—but no, Pop was too wily for that. Knowing full well his four sons weren't close, he'd come up with a brilliant plan to stick them all under one roof on acres and acres of nowhere where no one could witness the fireworks. Pop was in Europe right now, in a new stone castle he'd bought in Pzenas, no doubt laughing his ass off at what he'd wrought. Oh, he couldn't buy just any old French countryside farmhouse—he'd bought an 1800 Templar's commandery for a cool four million, not in the best of shape but just his style, he'd told his sons in the letters they'd each received outlining his wishes. Three floors, ten bedrooms, eight baths, plenty of room should they all ever decide to visit. It even had its own chapel, and he'd be in that chapel praying for them. Gabriel doubted the prayers would help. What Pop would be praying for was family harmony, and truthfully, a growth in the family tree, some tiny feet to run on the floors of the stone castle, sweet angelic voices to learn how to say Grandpop in French. Grandpere. Like hell. It wasn't going to happen to Gabriel. He was looking for peace and quiet in this rural town, and he was going to get it. He'd live in the house just as his father had decreed, for the year he'd specified, take his part of the bribe money—money was always involved with Pop—and go off no different that he was today, except a million dollars richer. Easy pickings. But it wasn't about the money. The pleasure of putting one over on his father, spitting in his eye, so to speak, a roundabout kick from one jackass to another. Pop hadn't said his sons had to be close-bonded Templar knights; he just said they had to live in the house for a year. Like a family. He could do that—if for no other reason than to show the old man he hadn't fazed him in the least. "Hi!" He turned to see a woman waving to him from a car window. She parked, got out, and handed him a fresh baked cherry pie. "Welcome to Union Junction, stranger." Her blue eyes gleamed at him; her blond hair swung in a braid. "My name's Mimi Jefferson. I'm from the Double M ranch, once known as Malfunction Junction. I'm Mason's wife." "Hello, Mimi." He'd met Mason months ago through Pop's business dealings, and Mason's wonderful wife had often been mentioned. "Thanks for the pie." "No problem." She glanced at the farmhouse. "So what do you think of it? Hasn't changed much since you were last here." Pop had added on more acreage than Gabriel thought necessary, but that was his dad's agenda, always the grand visionary. "I haven't been inside." She smiled. "It needs work." That he could see from the outside. "I noticed." "Should keep you real busy." He nodded. "Seems that was my dad's plan." She laughed. "Your father fit in real well here in Union Junction. I'm sure you will, too." He didn't need to, wouldn't be here long enough to put down deep roots. "By the way, I believe the ladies will be stopping by with some other goodies. We figured your dad left the fridge pretty empty when he went to France." "The ladies?" "You'll see." With a cryptic smile, she got into the truck. "I'll tell Mason you'll be by to see him when you've slowed down a bit." It was time to head into the old hacienda of dread and bar the door. He had no desire to be the target of grey-haired well-meaning church ladies toting fried chicken. "Thanks again for the pie." She waved at him and drove off. Gabriel dug into his pocket for the key marked #4—he supposed that was because he was the fourth son or maybe because his father had four keys made—and headed toward the wrap-around porch. It groaned under his weight, protesting his presence. Then he heard a sound, like traffic at a schoolyard. As a code breaker for the Marines, he was tuned to hear the slightest bit of noise, or cryptic murmured language. But what assaulted his ears wasn't trying to be secretive in any way. He watched as ten vehicles pulled into the graveled drive. His jaw tensed as approximately twenty women and children hopped out of the cars and trucks, each bearing a sack. Not a covered dish or salad bowl, but a bag, clearly destined for him. He was going to go crazy—and get fat in the process. "We're the welcome wagon." A pretty blond smiled at him as she approached the porch. "Don't be scared." She'd nailed his emotion. "I'm Laura Adams," she said. "These ladies—most of us—are from the hair salon, bakery, etc., in town. We formed the Union Junction Welcome Wagon committee some time ago when we all felt so welcomed to the town when we arrived. Our turn to do a good deed, you might say." Except he didn't want the deed done to him. She smelled nice, though. Her voice was soft and pleasant; he liked the delicate frosting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Big blue eyes gazed at him with warmth he couldn't return at the moment. The porch rang under his feet with the sound of more approaching women. He hadn't taken his eyes off Laura, for reasons he couldn't quite explain to himself. She opened pretty pink lips to say more, introduce all her gift-bearing friends, when suddenly something wrapped itself around his thigh. Glancing down, he saw a tiny towhead comfortably smiling up at him. "Daddy," she said, hugging his leg for all she was worth. "Daddy." For the first time in his life, including the time he'd lost part of his hearing from an underwater mine explosion near a sub he'd been monitoring, he felt panic. But the women laughed, and Laura didn't seem embarrassed as she disengaged her daughter from his leg. "Oh, sweetie, he might be a daddy, or he will be one day. Can you say Mr. Morgan?" The child smiled at him beatifically, completely convinced that everything in the world was a happy place and person. "Morgan," she said softly. So he became Morgan, just like Pop. He could remember people yelling his father's name, cursing his father's name, cheering his father's name. It was always something along the lines of either "Morgan, you jackass!" or "Morgan, you old dog!" It didn't feel as bad as he thought it might. He wondered where the child's father was, and then decided it was none of his business. "I should invite you in," he said reluctantly to the gathering at large, his gaze on Laura. He could tell by their instant smiles that being invited in was exactly what they wanted. "Too hot in June to keep ladies on the porch. We can all see the new place at the same time and make some introductions." "You haven't been inside your home yet?" Laura asked. "Mimi said she thought you might have arrived later than you planned." "Tell me something," he said as he worked at the lock on the front door. The lock hadn't been used in long enough that it didn't want to move. "I'd heard Union Junction was great for peace and quiet. Is this one of those places where everybody knows everybody's business?" That made everyone laugh—except him. For Gabriel it was a serious question. "Yes," Laura said. "That's one of the best parts of our town. Everyone cares about everybody." Great. The lock finally gave in to his impatient twisting of key #4 and he swung the door open. The first thing he realized was how hot the house was—like an oven. The smell was the next thing to register. Musty, unused, closed-up. The ladies peered around his shoulders inside the house. "Girls, we've got our work cut out for us," an older lady pronounced. "That won't be necessary," Gabriel said as they brushed past him. Laura smiled at him, swinging her grocery sack to the opposite hip and taking her daughter's hand in hers. "It's necessary," she said. "They can clean this place so fast it'll make your head spin. Besides, we've seen worse. Not much worse, of course. But your father's been gone a long time. Almost six months." She smiled non-judgmentally. "Frankly, we expected you a lot sooner." "I wasn't in a hurry." Neither were any of his brothers. During their curt e-mail transmissions, since their father's letter had been delivered to them, Dane had said he might swing by in January (if he'd finished with his Texas Ranger duties by then), Pete said he might make it by February (depending upon the secret agent assignments he couldn't discuss), and Jack hadn't answered at all. Jack was the least likely of them all to give a damn about Pop, the ranch, a million dollars, or the past. His chicken-ass brothers were making excuses, putting off the inevitable—except for Jack, who really was the wild card. "Well, we're glad you're here now." She didn't seem to notice his grimness as she set her grocery sack on the counter. "Hope you like chicken, baby peas, and rice." "You don't have to do that." He heard the sound of a vacuum start up somewhere in the house, and windows opening. The fragrance of lemon oil began to waft from one of the rooms. The little girl clung to her mom, her eyes watching his every move. "Really, I'm not hungry, and your little girl probably needs to be at home in bed." It was six o'clock—what time did children go to bed, anyway? He and his brothers had a strict bedtime of nine o'clock when they were kids, which they'd always ignored. Pop never came up the stairs to check on them, and they utilized a tree branch outside the house to cheat their curfew. Pop sawed the limb off one year, claiming the old live oak was too close to the roof, so they devised a rope ladder which they flung out on grappling hooks whenever they had a yen to meet up with girls or camp in the woods. Or watch Jack practice the forbidden rodeo in the fields lit only by the moon. "Oh, Penny's fine. Don't worry about her. You're always happy, aren't you, Penny?" Penny beamed at Gabriel. "Morgan," she murmured in a small child's breathy recitation. He felt his heart flip over in his chest as he returned the child's gaze. Heartburn. I'm getting heartburn at the age of twenty-six. "I have a smaller version of Penny whom Mimi is watching for me right now." Laura smiled proudly as she unloaded the grocery sacks the ladies had loaded onto the kitchen counter. "Perrin is nine months old, and looks just like his father. You love your baby brother, don't you, Penny?" She looked down at her child, who nodded, though she didn't break her stare from Gabriel. Gabriel felt his heart sink strangely in his chest. This woman was married, apparently happily so. He was an idiot, and probably horny. The house was swarming with women and he had to get some preliminary hots for a married mom. Good thing his yen was only preliminary—one pretty face replaced another easily enough. "Listen, I don't want to be rude, but I just got in. I appreciate that you and your friends are trying to help, but—" "But you would rather be alone." He nodded. "I understand." She flicked the oven on warm and slid the casserole inside. "I would, too, if I was you." She knew nothing about him. He decided a reply wasn't needed. "You know, I really liked your father," she said, hesitating. She stared at him with eyes he felt tugging at his desire. "I hated to see Mr. Morgan go." "Josiah," he murmured. "I didn't call him by his name." He shrugged. "You didn't know him too well, then." "Because I didn't call him by his name or because I liked him?" He looked at her, thinking both, lady. "Mr. Morgan liked my children." His radar went on alert. Here came the your-father-wants-you-to-settle-down chorus. He steeled himself. She ran a gentle hand through Penny's long, fine hair. "Of course he dreamed of having his own grandchildren." Gabriel frowned. The topic was none of her business. His family was too raw a subject for him to discuss with a stranger. "You're going to hear this sooner or later." She gazed at him suddenly with clear, determined focus. "I'd rather you hear it from me." He shrugged. "I'm listening." He reminded himself that whatever she had to say didn't matter to him. What Pop had been to the town of Union Junction was nothing he cared about. "Your father put a hundred thousand dollars into a trust for my children." She'd caught his attention. Not because of the amount, but because Pop had to have lost his mind to have gone that soft. Pop was as miserly as he was stubborn, even complaining over church donations. All he was interested in was himself. Or at least that had been the Pop of Gabriel's youth. Truthfully, it astonished him that this tiny woman had the nerve to tell him she'd managed to wheedle money out of his father. Maybe Pop had finally begun to crack, all the years of selfishness taking their toll. More importantly, Laura was obviously the kind of woman who deserved great distance and caution. "Congratulations," he finally said, trying not to smirk. "A hundred grand is a nice chunk of change." "Each." He stared at her. "Each?" "Each child got their own trust. Penny and Perrin both received a hundred thousand dollars. Your father said it wasn't a lot, but he wanted them to have something later in their lives. He doesn't want them to know about his gift, though, not until they're grown up." She smiled, and it seemed to Gabriel that her expression was sad. "They won't even remember him, then." He had no idea what the hell to say to this woman. He was suspicious. He was dumbstruck. Perhaps he was even a little envious that she'd gained some type of affection in his father's heart, when he and his brothers had struggled for years for none. She picked Penny up. "I just thought you should know." He watched as she turned, heading for the front door. Over her mother's shoulder, Penny watched him with wistful eyes. What had been the relationship between Pop and Laura that such an astonishing gift would be given? He could remember a cold wet night in Russia, hunched behind a snow bank, listening to a radio he'd patched with frozen fingers to pick up conversation in a bedroom in Gdansk. He'd retrieved the information he'd needed, turned it in, got cleared to return home. Chilled, he'd called his father, thinking maybe his soul could use a good thawing and their relationship a delayed shot of warmth. He was young, idealistic, mostly broke, lonely. Damned cold in every area of his life. He needed a bus ticket from the base, he'd told his father. The military would get him stateside, but he only had some rubles in his pocket. Pop had told him not to come crying to him for money. He said the greatest gift he could ever give him was the knowledge of how to stand on his own two feet. That was ten years ago, and he could still hear the sound of the receiver slamming in his ear. He walked behind her, catching up to open the front door for her. "You must have meant a lot to my father." She turned, slowly, her gaze meeting his, questioning. In a split second, she got the gist of his unspoken assumption. "Your reputation preceded you," she said softly. "You really are a jackass." The door slammed behind her. Gabriel nodded to himself, silently agreeing with her assessment. Then he went to shoo his well-meaning friends out of the house he didn't want.  * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Two Laura returned to her house, steaming. She put Penny down on the sofa and went to find Mimi, whom she could hear quietly singing to Perrin in the back of the house. "Thank you for watching my little man, Mimi." She looked down in the crib at the baby, and all the tension flowed from her. Together they walked from the nursery. "So what did you think of Gabriel Morgan?" "Not much. He thinks I sucked up to his father to weasel money out of him. Laura shrugged her shoulders. "He's everything Mr. Morgan said he was. Cocky, brash, annoying." Mimi laughed. "Not a man's best qualities. Wasn't he nice at all? He just seemed sort of shy to me." Laura went to fix them both an iced tea. "I suppose I compare every man to my husband." Her glance was drawn reluctantly to the framed, fingerprint-covered photo of Dave. Penny liked to look at the picture of her father, liked to hear stories about him. The thing about Dave was that he'd been so kind. Warm. Funny. Easy to talk to. Nothing like the man she'd met today. Laura wrinkled her nose and tried not to think about it so tears wouldn't spring into her eyes. Heaven only knew Dave had his moments, he was no angel. They'd had their spats. But he'd been her first love and that counted for so much. It had been such a shock to lose him. But she had his children. "I suppose it would be hard for me not to compare every man to Mason." Mimi smiled. "No one would measure up." Laura nodded, appreciating the understanding. "Some would say there never was a tougher nut to crack than Mason Jefferson." "Really?" Laura found that hard to believe. Mason loved his wife, loved his kids. Was always looking at Mimi, or holding her hand. "Suffice it to say he was really hard to get to the altar. Sometimes I even wondered why I wanted him there." Mimi laughed. "Talk about stubborn and hard to get along with." "Dave was easy," Laura murmured. "Don't get me wrong: I'm not looking to replace Dave in my life at all. But I was hoping for a connection, something like the one I'd had with his father. I miss the old gentleman." She smiled at Mimi. "I can't understand why his boys don't want to be close with him." "Mr. Morgan was a different person with us than he was with his sons. They say people show themselves differently to everyone, and we probably saw his best side. He was a nice man." "Obviously his sons believe they understand him better, and they probably do." She and Mimi moved to the kitchen table. Penny came in to the kitchen and crawled into her mother's lap. Laura handed her a vanilla wafer from a box left out on the table from yesterday. "I promise I do keep house. We don't always have food left out from the day before." She glanced at the sink where the pots were piled up from making the welcome meal for Gabriel. "Try living in a house where grown men come and go all the time. They make a bigger mess than the kids." Mimi sipped her tea. "I'll help you clean it up in a bit." Laura shook her head slightly, appreciating the offer but not wanting the help. She didn't mind washing dishes. It was soothing to have her hands in warm dishwater, and somehow comforting to put in dirty dishes and then pull them gleaming from the water. "I didn't want him to misunderstand my relationship with his father." Mimi nodded. "Men don't always temper their thoughts before they speak. Anyway, nobody tells Josiah Morgan what to do. Gabriel knows that." Laura smiled. "Anyway, it's really none of Gabriel's business." That was also true. She'd only told him because she wanted him to know up front. "Okay, I give up on being mad. It's a waste of time." Mimi got up from the table. "Let's wash these dishes." "No, you go on home to your family. You've done enough for me, Mimi. I really appreciate you watching Perrin so he could nap." "Did the doctor say how long it would take for the medicine to do some good?" Perrin had colic, long bouts at night that worried Laura. Someone had suggested that the colic was stress-induced, and that Perrin was sensing his mother's distress. It had been a shock when Dave had died, and she certainly had grieved, was still grieving, but it was additional guilt that she was causing her son's pain. "The doctor said babies sometimes go through colic. The medicine might help, and putting him on a different formula. Or he could grow out of it." Mimi patted her hand. "I'll come by to see you later at the school." Laura nodded. "I'd like that." She closed the door behind Mimi. Penny handed her a vanilla wafer, and for the first time that day, Laura really smiled. * * * On Friday night, three days later, Gabriel finally made it into the small town of Union Junction. He could see what had drawn his father to this place. For one thing, it looked like a melding of the old west and a Norman Rockwell card. There was a main street, and families enjoyed a warm June night stroll, ice cream cones or sodas in hand. A kissing booth sat in front of a bakery. Other booths lined the street in front of various shops. He glanced at the kissing booth again, caught by a glimpse of blond hair and the long line outside the booth. All the booths had lines, but none as long as the kissing booth, which Gabriel figured was probably appropriate. If he was offered the choice of getting a kiss or throwing rings over a bottle, he'd definitely take the kiss. "What's going on?" he asked a young cowboy at the back of the line. "Town fair." The young man grinned at him. "You're Morgan, aren't you?" He looked at him. "Aren't you too young to be buying kisses?" He got a laugh for that. "Get in line and spend a buck, Mr. Morgan." "Why?" He wasn't inclined to participate in the fun of a town fair. He'd just been looking around, trying to figure out what had drawn Pop here, trying to stave off some boredom. "We're raising money for the elementary school. Need more desks. The town is certainly growing." "Shouldn't the town be paying for that from taxes or something?" "We like to do some recreational fundraising, too." Gabriel reluctantly fell into line. "So who are we kissing?" "Laura Adams." "We can't kiss her!" He had to admit the idea was inviting, but he also wanted to jerk the young man out of line—and every other man, too. The line was growing behind him. "Why not?" His companion appeared puzzled. Gabriel frowned. "She's married. And she's a mom." The young man laughed. "Mimi Jefferson was working the booth an hour ago. It's the only time any of us can get near Mimi without getting our tails kicked by Mason, so most of us went through twice." Gabriel's frown deepened. "It's for a good cause," his new friend said. "Besides which, Laura's not married anymore." Gabriel's mood shifted slightly. He felt his boots move closer into the line behind his talkative friend. "She's not?" "Nah. Her husband died shortly after she gave birth to Perrin." His friend looked at him with surprise. "You should know all this. Your dad loved Laura's kids. Said they were probably the only—" "I know. I know. Jeez." Gabriel rubbed at his chin, trying to decide if he liked how quickly the line was moving. And the young man was right: the gentlemen were leaving the line to catcalls and whistles and hurrying to the back of the line for another kiss. It was a never-ending kiss line of rascals. "I'm pretty sure I don't belong here." "No better way to get to know people," his friend said cheerfully. "My name's Buck, by the way." "Hi, Buck." He absently shook his hand. "I guess kissing's as good a way as any to get to know someone." He supposed he should get to know Laura better since they sort of had a connection. Buck stared at him. "Hanging out at the town fair being sociable is the way to get to know people." "I meant that." Gabriel noticed there were only five people in front of him now. His heart rate sped up. Should he kiss a woman his father had such a close relationship with? Clearly Pop had depended upon Laura for the sense of family he was lacking. It almost felt like Laura could be a sister. He heard cheers as Buck laid a smooch on Laura. To Gabriel's relief, it was mercifully short and definitely respectful. Just good clean fun. He found himself standing in front of her booth, staring down at her like a nervous schoolboy. Her blue eyes lit on him with curiosity and nothing else, no lingering resentment over their initial meeting. He noted a distressing jump in his jeans, a problem he hadn't anticipated. But he'd always been a sucker for full lips and fine cheekbones. He could smell a sweet perfume, something like flowers in summer. Laura was nothing like a sister to him. He laid a twenty dollar bill on the booth ledge and walked away. * * * Gabriel found a better way to support the local elementary school: drinking keg beer some thoughtful and enterprising young man had set up far away from the kissing booth. Here he was safe. No one bothered him while he sat on a hay bale and people-watched, which was good because he really needed to think. He hadn't expected his father to have a family connection in Union Junction. He sat up. Surely his father hadn't been trying to "build" his own family here? With a ready-made mom and grandchildren? All it would take was one out of the four brothers to meet the lady and her children, to whom some of the Morgan money had been put in trust, and maybe, just maybe Pop might get that family he'd been itching for? He wouldn't put it past Pop. Throw in a scheme that required all four brothers to be on the premises for a year, and Pop had a one in four chance of seeing that dream come true. He resolved not to fall for it. In fact, he congratulated himself for staying one step ahead of the wily old man. He didn't know for sure that was Pop had been up to, but with Pop there was always an angle. He'd be very cautious. "Hi." Someone soft and warm slid onto the hay bale beside him. Laura didn't smile at him, but her lips were full and plump from being kissed. "Guess you changed your mind about kissing me." He hung between fear and self-loathing for being a coward. "Seems we should keep our relationship professional." "Awkward." "That, too." "Fine by me." He slid her a glance. She had nice breasts under her blue-flowered dress—very feminine. A breast man by nature, he was shocked he hadn't taken note of her physical charms before. He'd been completely preoccupied by the swarm of women descending upon him, although he had to admit that in the thirty minutes they were in his house, it was more welcoming than it was ever going to be under his watch. But now he was checking out Laura's breasts, a subconscious flick of his gaze that dismayed him. God, they really were gorgeous. And he hadn't noticed the small, graceful hands before, either. He felt his temperature rise uncomfortably. "Where are the kids?" Not that he was really interested, but it was best to remind himself that this woman was a mother, not someone to be ogled as if she were single and available for some casual fun. Which was all he was interested in, for now and for always. Damn Pop for throwing temptation my way. "Penny and Perrin are being held by some ladies from the church. They get lots of spoiling from them." She pointed to an outdoor play area that had been set up. Lots of older ladies were inside, holding infants and playing games with toddlers. He could see Penny's light hair, just like her mother's, as she sat in a woman's lap and colored in a book. It wasn't difficult to see what had drawn Pop to this gentle, fatherless trio. Who would have thought Pop would have had a protective bone in his body? "You know, we're not swindlers. Nor did we lure your father into feeling like we were his family." He turned to Laura. "I shouldn't have implied that there was anything unusual about my father leaving someone outside the family money. I apologize for that." "Thank you." She raised her chin. "I knew you could be a difficult person. I choose to ignore that for your father's sake." He frowned. "I don't want anything for my father's sake." She shrugged. "He was a nice old man." "You didn't know him." "Maybe not as well as you. But maybe better in some ways." He couldn't argue that. Didn't even want to. "Why?" "When my husband got sick with cancer, and then died, your father said the least he could was make certain my kids had college educations. There was a fundraiser here in town to help us . . . because Dave had no insurance. He was a self-employed carpenter, a dreamer, really." Her voice got soft, remembering. "He loved to build homes. The bigger, the better, the more intricate, the better. He did lots of work on your father's place." This was all beginning to make sense. "Listen, none of this is my business. What my father wants to do with his time and his life is his concern." She nodded. "I've got to go back to the booth. I've got one more half-hour shift." He could see the line queuing from here; could count at least twenty men waiting their turn. They were all horny males. "Do you have to kiss all of them?" "Most of them just kiss my cheek." She smiled. "Only the younger ones try for something more, and a few of the bachelors." That's what he was afraid of. He thought about his father, and what a jackass he was. He looked at the line, and the men grinning back towards Laura, obviously impatient for her "break" to be over. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Penny, who'd spotted her mother. Mom and daughter waved at each other, and he could see the longing in Laura's eyes to be with her daughter. What the hell. He lived to be a jackass. It was just keeping the family name alive. "All right," he announced loudly, ambling to the front of the line, "I'm buying out Ms. Adams' thirty minutes of time." He placed five one-hundred dollar bills—all he had on him at the moment besides some stray ones and a couple of twenties—on the booth ledge where everyone could see his money. Grumbling erupted, but also some applause for the donation. He grunted. "Move along, fellows. The booth is closed for this lady."  * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Three Gabriel's buy-out of Laura's time in the kissing booth won him lots of winks from the guys and smiles from the ladies as he walked toward his truck. He hadn't said anything to a shocked Laura—just figured he'd introduced himself to the town in the most obvious way he could have for a man who preferred being a loner. He didn't even know why he'd done it. Maybe it was Pop, egging him on to be a gentleman, which was a real stinker of a reason. Mason met him at his truck. "Have a good time?" Gabriel checked Mason's eyes for laughter but the question seemed sincere. "Seems like everyone is enjoying themselves." "Good to see you around. We've been wondering what you're going to do with yourself out there if you stay holed up at the ranch." "I imagine I'll figure out something." Mason handed him an envelope. "Mimi said to give you this." "Mimi?" Gabriel scanned the envelope. It had his name written in his father's handwriting, and no postmark. "Mimi's the law around here." Mason winked at him. "What does that have to do with me?" "Your father left that with her. She asked me to deliver it to you. I've been meaning to get out to your place, but here you are, getting to know the good folks of Union Junction." Again Gabriel studied him for sarcasm. There appeared to be nothing more than good old friendliness. "Why didn't Pop just mail this to me? Or courier it like he did before?" Mason shrugged. "He said something to Mimi along the lines of when and if any of his sons ever got here, they were to have that. Josiah figured you'd be the first, though. In fact, we wagered on it. I owe your father a twenty." He handed Gabriel a twenty-dollar bill. Gabriel shook his head. "Put it toward the school fund." He looked at the envelope, wondering why his father would have wagered he'd be the first brother to the ranch. "Who'd you bet on?" Mason laughed. "Jack. He's the unpredictable one. I always go with the dark horse." "Cost you this time, buddy." Mason slapped him on the back. "Sure did. Come on out to the Double M when you have time. We'll introduce you to the kids." "Maybe I will," Gabriel said, knowing he probably wouldn't. "Congratulations, by the way," Mason said as he walked away. "For what?" "For spending that much money for a kiss and then not getting it. Nerves of steel." Mason waved goodbye. Gabriel glanced back down at the envelope, aware that Mason was now giving him a gentle ribbing. "Jackass," he muttered under his breath and got into his truck. But it was kind of funny coming from Mason, and even Gabriel had to wonder why he'd passed up the chance to kiss Laura after he'd so obviously put his mark on her. Not that he was going to think about it too hard. * * * "Nothing," Laura told the girls at the Union Junction Beauty Salon. "I'm telling you, there's nothing between us. He didn't kiss me. Gabriel's barely nice to me." The girls oohed and then giggled. Laura had received a fair bit of teasing and she expected the "kissing booth" incident wasn't through being dissected. Privately, Laura wondered what it would have been like to have Gabriel's lips on hers. It had been so long since she'd kissed a man—well, kissed a man as she had Dave. She didn't count those chaste, predictable pecks in the kissing booth. Even the old ladies and the elderly librarian got their turn in the kissing booth, and the men lined up for them just as quickly. The older ladies—particularly teachers—received grandmotherly busses on the cheek from favorite students. Everyone was anxious to see the elementary school succeed. There was so much goodwill in this town. Laura was never going to regret moving here with Dave those five years ago. He'd said Union Junction was a growing town, he'd have lots of work, they'd make a family and be happy out away from the big city . . . It had worked out just that way for just over five years. Five perfect years. So she shouldn't really be thinking about what it would have felt like to kiss Gabriel. She was twenty-six, too old for dreamy longings; she was a mom and a widow. "I bet he kisses great," one of the stylists said to another, and Laura blushed. "Aren't you curious?" someone asked her. Laura ran her hand through Penny's hair as she often did. The feel of the cornsilk hair comforted her, as did the powdery smell of Perrin. "No," she murmured, easy with the lie. "Gabriel is not my kind of man." They all fell quiet, silenced by the uncomfortable position they had put her in. "She doesn't need to tiptoe around Dave forever," someone finally spoke up bravely. "Honey, we know you loved him, but you're alive and he wouldn't want you being sad forever." Tears jumped into Laura's eyes. Several ladies came over to hug her. She felt Penny press closer to her leg. "I know." "All right, then." They all patted her, then went back to their places. "So next time you get a chance to kiss a hunk like Gabriel Morgan, you just grin and bear it if you want to, okay?" "Maybe," Laura said, smiling as she wiped away the unwanted tears. "Wish he'd buy out my booth," someone said, and everyone laughed, even Laura, although she really didn't think it was funny. What they didn't realize is that Gabriel hadn't wanted to kiss her, hadn't even looked tempted. He'd sort of picked up his father's responsibility—and then he'd headed off. A woman knew when a man was interested in her. All fairy tales included a kiss—a man knew how to get what he wanted, even in books. Dave had been a gentle pursuer, slow and careful as if she were a fine porcelain doll. Gabriel owned no such gentle genes. If he wanted a woman, she figured the indication of his desire would be swift, like a roiling wave breaking over a boat at sea, claiming it with powerful intent. Gabriel pretty much turned to stone every time he laid eyes on her. * * * Dear Gabriel, By now you are at the house and are beginning a year of time you no doubt resent like hell. But money talks and though it might not talk very loud to you, I know you'll stick out the year just to prove yourself. This need of yours to be a tough guy living on the edge is exactly what I'm going to have to lean on. I've gotten myself in a bit of trouble. Remember when I bought that extra acreage and added on to my own hacienda out here? I bought it from a man who was down on his luck, and down on his luck thanks to me, which he has discovered. Now don't go getting all high and mighty like I cheated this man out of his birthright because he's a scoundrel and anyway, he needed the money. The problem is, I bought the land suspecting there was an underground oil source. I had it surveyed without his knowledge. Knowing the man was on hard times, I offered to buy the land from him. He has since found out that I paid for a geological survey of his property and feels cheated. Fact is, maybe he was and maybe he wasn't. He could have paid for his own damn survey. The trouble in this is that the man is Laura Adams' father, with whom she has no contact due to the fact that he didn't appreciate her marrying a carpenter. Didn't like her husband, felt he wasn't good enough for his only child, which didn't set well with Laura. He needed her to marry big to save his sorry ass. You see my predicament. I could sell the man back his land but the price would include a terrific profit which he cannot afford. I gave Laura's children a tiny portion of what is rightfully theirs, since it would have been, I suppose, if her father wouldn't have drunk up the estate, which he would have. You might say I just hijacked Penny's and Perrin's inheritance, robbing from the poor to give to the poorer. Unfortunately, the jackanapes took to threatening me. He really feels cheated by life, and I suppose he has been, but the big dog runs off the little dog and that's life, isn't it? But for the grace of God go I. Anyway, you'll be seeing him as he lives to create trouble. But I have faith that you'll smooth everything over in due time, as you were always the responsible one in the family, even though it really chaps your ass that I say that. It just happens to be true. Pop "It does chap my ass." Gabriel forced himself not to shred his father's writing. "It does indeed chap me like you can't even imagine, Pop." He did not appreciate being appointed the protector of the family fortunes, but even less so the knight of Laura Adams' little brood. He couldn't even make himself kiss her; how the hell was he going to start thinking of her as part and parcel of the Morgan family? And yet, according to Pop, they owed her something. What exactly that was, Gabriel wasn't certain. * * * The storm that swept Union Junction and the outlying countryside that night kept Gabriel inside and feeling caged. He paced the house, watching lightning crack through the windows of the two-story house. The TV had gone out; the phone lines were dead. He could hear water dripping frenzied and fast into the overgrown gardens. There wasn't a lot to do in a house one didn't call home. So far he'd mainly confined himself to his room on the second floor, and the den. He passed through the kitchen occasionally to forage from the goodies the ladies had left for him. The house, he estimated, was around six thousand square feet. Eventually, he'd have to investigate the rest of Pop's place. Actually, there was no better time than the present, he thought, pushing himself up out of the leather recliner. The sound of something not quite right caught his ear; instantly he listened intently, all the old survival skills surging into action. Someone was at the front door; someone with a key that wouldn't fit easily. Gabriel considered flinging the door open and confronting whoever was out there, some dumbass so dumb they didn't know it was storming like hell outside, then relented. Let the water drown them. If they made it inside, then he'd deal with them. He thought about Laura's father's threats against Pop and figured he couldn't kill the man in cold blood. So he selected one of his father's many travel guides he had in the den—the heaviest one, something about the South Seas—and waited behind the door. It suddenly blew open with a gust of wind and rain and vituperative cursing. Gabriel raised the three-hundred-page tourist guide high over his head, preparing to launch it into his visitor's skull. "Damn it, I hate Texas with a passion!" he heard, and lowered his arms. "Dane?" His brother swung to look at him. "What the hell are you hiding back there for? And with a book on the South Seas?" "Preparing to cold-cock you." Gabriel closed the door. "I'm supposed to be here." Dane glared at him. "Your e-mail said you were coming in January." "And I've since changed my mind. You got a problem with that?" Gabriel sighed. "Calm down, Sam Houston. Food's in the fridge." "Don't call me that. I detest Texas." He settled back into the chair. "Are you starting your year of duty early?" "Figured I might as well get it over with." The sound of the refrigerator door opening silenced any need for conversation for the moment. "Fried chicken! Watermelon!" Gabriel shook his head and began to read the travel guide to the South Seas, which was starting to sound good. "You get your letter from Pop?" Dane called from the kitchen. "What letter?" "The one with the sob story about watching over the family of four who have no man in the house." "Four?" Gabriel sat up. Laura had only two—didn't she? "I despise kids almost as much as I hate Texas," Dane said. Gabriel couldn't think for the shock of adding more kids to Laura's equation. "You're a Texas Ranger. Get over it." "I'm done. I retired from active duty." "Congratulations. So back to the family of four—" "Yeah. I'm supposed to look out for this little mom because of some mess Pop made." Gabriel frowned. He was supposed to be the reluctant knight in shining armor. Possessive emotions and a sense of I saw her first crowded his skull. Dane shuddered. "Her name is Suzy something." "Suzy? Not Laura?" Dane sat down across from him with a beer and some fried chicken. "How do you get Laura from Suzy?" Gabriel shook his head. "This doesn't sound good." "Tell me about it. I nearly took off for New York, never to be seen or heard from again. But in the end, I knew I had to do this, or I'd really never be free of Pop. He'll try to rule us from the grave if we don't prove to him that nothing he does can screw up our lives anymore." "And then there's the million bucks." "A small price for putting up with Pop," Dane said glumly. "You know it's going to get ugly. Suzy." He shuddered. At least it wasn't Laura that Pop had sent Dane to rescue. It didn't really matter, Gabriel reminded himself. One year and he was gone. Outta here. But now apparently there was a family of four in the mix, and an additional "problem" to be solved. Gabriel stared out the window at the pelting rain. It was indeed beginning to get ugly.