The Stranger: The Heroes of Heyday (Harlequin Superromance No. 1266) by Kathleen O`Brien Page B

you?”
    Bryce held his palms up, obviously outmatched. “Yes,” he said. “I mean, no. I mean…forget about the rent, Mrs. Milligan. If the time ever comes that you’re in a position to pay, you know where to send the check.”
    â€œOf course I do.” She turned from the doorway. “But don’t hold your breath.”
    When she was gone, both brothers leaned back in their chairs, shaking their heads and chuckling.
    Kieran turned to Tyler. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize she’d be here today. Wouldn’t you just know it? After we waited all this time for you to get here, I had hoped—” He dropped the file on the desk. “We certainly can’t be making a very good impression on you, can we?”
    â€œThis is how it is,” Bryce said dryly. “This is life in Heyday. Tyler might as well know that from the get-go. That way, if he decides to run for his life, he can at least get a head start.”
    â€œRun?” Kieran’s face sobered. “Surely you’re not leaving right away, are you? We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
    Tyler took a moment to frame his answer. He was eager to liquidate his inheritance and get out of here. He’d spent the past week visiting his new holdings, working with Elton Fletcher, the front-desk neatnik, and a real estate agent he’d brought in from Richmond.
    Things didn’t look promising. Though months ago he’d left instructions to sell anything at almost any price, so far he’d been able to dispose of only two properties. Some guy named Slip-something who owned a bar just outside the city limits had wanted to expand, so he’d bought the Black and White Lounge. And now Kieran wanted one of Tyler’s empty lots by the river.
    At this rate Tyler would be free in about, oh, ten years.
    Too bad he didn’t have more empty lots. They’d be a lot easier to unload. This town, with its circus fetish, was just too kitschy for words, and the architecture was a nightmare. He had one lovely plot at the edge of town, but the house on it had been designated a historical building. He wasn’t allowed to pull down the ridiculous ringmaster statue by the front gate or replace the hideous stained-glass windows depicting leaping zebras.
    â€œMaybe you could give it a little time,” Kieran said. “Believe it or not, Heyday kind of…grows on you.”
    God forbid. Tyler shifted his feet, as if he could already feel weeds and vines trying to wrap themselves around him, rooting him to this eccentric little backwater.
    Still, Bryce and Kieran seemed to love the place, and there was no need to be callous. They weren’t such bad guys, actually. They clearly wanted to reach out to him, which was a little awkward. He’d dodged their phone calls and dinner invitations for a full week, determined to make it clear he wasn’t interested in being drawn into the bosom of the family, hailed as the beloved long-lost brother.
    But inevitably they’d met in town from time to time. He’d pegged their types right away, a knack he’d developed over the course of about a thousand interviews. Kieran was the solid one, the brother who couldn’t bear the thought of hurting anybody, the onewho would be a bad liar and would do the right thing if it killed him. He was probably buying this lot just to be nice.
    Bryce was only about half as cynical as he pretended to be, but that was plenty. He prided himself on being a dark, sardonic devil with attitude to spare.
    So yeah, Tyler understood them. He even liked them. It wasn’t their fault he felt no real sense of connection, no call of blood to blood. How could he? He wasn’t a McClintock, whatever the DNA might say. He was a Balfour. And he had no interest in being anything else.
    Bryce, who clearly wasn’t the patient type, cut through the stretching silence. “So what’s the answer, Tyler? Do you