private.”
“Okay. I want to go check on Xav. I guess I’ll take my cap back from you, if you don’t need it, Taylor.” Ash shot her a sympathetic glance that clearly said You’re in hot water. “I’ve got some other lighter caps in my room you can borrow if you need one that isn’t heavy as lead .”
Clearly, Ashlyn was trying to help her out of the tight spot she was apparently in with her brother. Taylor slipped the cap off, capturing the shell, and handed it to Ash, who gave her a wry look.
“Have fun,” Ash said.
“Thanks. Troublemaker.”
Ash laughed, and Taylor went to face Falcon.
* * *
“H ERE ’ S THE THING ,” Falcon said, leading Taylor to a private place in the main house where they could talk, which for the moment happened to be the basement. Taylor’s eyes were huge, taking in Fiona’s stocks of canned vegetables and fruits, and the myriad boxes of her much loved, carefully labeled seasonal ornaments. “I don’t want you letting my sister drag you into stuff.”
“Falcon, I know you’re worried, but it was no big deal. It wasn’t Ash’s fault.”
“Taking you to the canyons wasn’t her fault?”
“Okay, that was, but nothing else.” Taylor put on an innocent face he suspected was meant to diffuse his focus. It nearly worked, too.
“What nothing else?”
“Whatever you’re mad about.”
“I’m not mad, Taylor. I’m concerned. I feel responsible for you.”
She blinked. “Don’t.”
“If something happened to you, your mother and Jillian would question my ability to protect you.”
“That’s what this is all about. Your sense of macho is disturbed.”
“My sense of macho is never disturbed.” He wondered how he could explain to this darling woman that he was required by man law to protect her. “There’s a lot going on at this ranch you don’t understand.”
“I bet.” She looked at the long, narrow strip of packed dirt near the wall. The spot always reminded Falcon of a coffin. The dirt floor had apparently always bugged Jonas Callahan, but it was there due to foundational issues or something. Jonas had had the new two-story bunkhouse near the canyons built with a perfectly-floored basement.
No room for secrets.
“You’re missing part of your floor,” Taylor said. “It’s kind of strange, isn’t it? Looks like a coffin might be buried there.”
Falcon felt as if a goose had walked over his grave. “Apparently Uncle Jeremiah built this place with a few holes.”
“Seven chimneys, and he left holes in the basement floor?” She looked at Falcon. “You Callahans don’t do a thing to diminish the legend, do you?”
“We’re talking about you, not me, beautiful. No more canyons. No more letting Ash lure you into her adventures. I’m tame compared to my sister.”
“I wouldn’t have suspected you of being a bore, Falcon.” Taylor went over to the gash in the floor and moved some dirt aside with her boot. He watched her carefully, pretty sure she was trying to tweak him, and succeeding mightily. Telling her to quit messing around would get her suspicions up, and she seemed to have a strong dose of Miss Marple in her.
“Maybe this is a grave,” Taylor said, glancing at him with a teasing smile. “There’s wood underneath the dirt. Are you hiding vampires in your basement, Falcon? Is that why Callahans are known to be fond of ghost hunts and stories?”
Well, she was getting close on a lot of levels. She was just too cute and too witty for her own good—a ball of mischievous intent.
There was only one way to stop her sudden fixation with the floor she was rapidly uncovering. He hated to do it—surely it was bending the rules—but a man had to do what a man had to do, and besides, if anybody was born to be a rule buster, surely it was him.
He pulled the busy Miss-Marple-in-the-making into his arms, kissing her until she gasped with surprise and pulled back.
“Falcon!” She stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Breaking
“Okay. I want to go check on Xav. I guess I’ll take my cap back from you, if you don’t need it, Taylor.” Ash shot her a sympathetic glance that clearly said You’re in hot water. “I’ve got some other lighter caps in my room you can borrow if you need one that isn’t heavy as lead .”
Clearly, Ashlyn was trying to help her out of the tight spot she was apparently in with her brother. Taylor slipped the cap off, capturing the shell, and handed it to Ash, who gave her a wry look.
“Have fun,” Ash said.
“Thanks. Troublemaker.”
Ash laughed, and Taylor went to face Falcon.
* * *
“H ERE ’ S THE THING ,” Falcon said, leading Taylor to a private place in the main house where they could talk, which for the moment happened to be the basement. Taylor’s eyes were huge, taking in Fiona’s stocks of canned vegetables and fruits, and the myriad boxes of her much loved, carefully labeled seasonal ornaments. “I don’t want you letting my sister drag you into stuff.”
“Falcon, I know you’re worried, but it was no big deal. It wasn’t Ash’s fault.”
“Taking you to the canyons wasn’t her fault?”
“Okay, that was, but nothing else.” Taylor put on an innocent face he suspected was meant to diffuse his focus. It nearly worked, too.
“What nothing else?”
“Whatever you’re mad about.”
“I’m not mad, Taylor. I’m concerned. I feel responsible for you.”
She blinked. “Don’t.”
“If something happened to you, your mother and Jillian would question my ability to protect you.”
“That’s what this is all about. Your sense of macho is disturbed.”
“My sense of macho is never disturbed.” He wondered how he could explain to this darling woman that he was required by man law to protect her. “There’s a lot going on at this ranch you don’t understand.”
“I bet.” She looked at the long, narrow strip of packed dirt near the wall. The spot always reminded Falcon of a coffin. The dirt floor had apparently always bugged Jonas Callahan, but it was there due to foundational issues or something. Jonas had had the new two-story bunkhouse near the canyons built with a perfectly-floored basement.
No room for secrets.
“You’re missing part of your floor,” Taylor said. “It’s kind of strange, isn’t it? Looks like a coffin might be buried there.”
Falcon felt as if a goose had walked over his grave. “Apparently Uncle Jeremiah built this place with a few holes.”
“Seven chimneys, and he left holes in the basement floor?” She looked at Falcon. “You Callahans don’t do a thing to diminish the legend, do you?”
“We’re talking about you, not me, beautiful. No more canyons. No more letting Ash lure you into her adventures. I’m tame compared to my sister.”
“I wouldn’t have suspected you of being a bore, Falcon.” Taylor went over to the gash in the floor and moved some dirt aside with her boot. He watched her carefully, pretty sure she was trying to tweak him, and succeeding mightily. Telling her to quit messing around would get her suspicions up, and she seemed to have a strong dose of Miss Marple in her.
“Maybe this is a grave,” Taylor said, glancing at him with a teasing smile. “There’s wood underneath the dirt. Are you hiding vampires in your basement, Falcon? Is that why Callahans are known to be fond of ghost hunts and stories?”
Well, she was getting close on a lot of levels. She was just too cute and too witty for her own good—a ball of mischievous intent.
There was only one way to stop her sudden fixation with the floor she was rapidly uncovering. He hated to do it—surely it was bending the rules—but a man had to do what a man had to do, and besides, if anybody was born to be a rule buster, surely it was him.
He pulled the busy Miss-Marple-in-the-making into his arms, kissing her until she gasped with surprise and pulled back.
“Falcon!” She stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Breaking
Similar Books
