“I understand you have a big date tomorrow night,” Fiona said, “courtesy of Jillian.”
Falcon’s heart just about stopped. Taylor nodded.
“Not really a date,” she said. “More like a cattle drive.”
“With a state senator’s son,” Fiona said. “That’s big game in these parts.”
The whole room went silent. Falcon could feel his heart jump with a painful, stuttering beat. As if it was dying.
“It was great to see everybody again,” Taylor said. “Falcon, can you drive?”
Of course he could—to the ends of the earth if she wanted. He grabbed his keys, trying not to look at the expressions of sympathy on his family’s faces.
“Good night, everyone,” Taylor said.
“Thanks for rescuing our brother,” Tighe said.
“Yeah,” his twin, Dante, said. “Falcon usually needs bodyguarding from the ladies. He wasn’t expecting to get jumped by family.”
This was all just great, Falcon thought with disgust. His own clan, helping his case not at all. He waved a hand to hush them, and he and Taylor left.
“You shouldn’t have told them I shot your uncle’s friend’s toe off,” Taylor told him as she got into his truck. “You exaggerated. I barely nicked him. Saying I got his whole toe makes me sound kind of mean.”
“It makes you sound like a helluva woman,” Falcon said.
“It was no big deal.” She looked out the window, but Falcon knew it had been a big deal. Taylor had been honest when she’d said his gnarly family tree precluded serious consideration of marriage.
He really couldn’t compete with the level of eligible bachelors Jillian was going to throw at his sharpshooting gal. He knew his wily aunt too well—she was in on it, too.
Everybody loved Taylor.
“I don’t understand what they wanted with you.”
Falcon wasn’t certain, either. There was a possibility that Taylor could have been the target—like Kendall had been—but he doubted it. Wolf didn’t usually make mistakes. “Wolf will do anything to get the ranch. If he could pick one of us off, or someone we care about, maybe we’ll get scared and give up.”
“You won’t.”
He shook his head. “It’s not in our nature to give up. We’re all stubborn that way.” Pulling into her driveway, he switched off the engine. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
She opened her door and got out, turning to look at him only briefly. “That won’t be necessary. I hope you heal fast, Falcon. Good night.”
Taylor shut the door and took off into her house. She didn’t even look back. Stunned, Falcon sat, amazed by how fast his evening had just ended.
But he got it. The whole evening had been awkward. No doubt weird, from Taylor’s point of view. Of course it was weird. How many girls had to rescue their date? He glanced at the rifle she’d left in the rack, just as it had been before, as if it had never been fired—but it had.
There was no changing what had happened. And tomorrow night Taylor had a date with Mr. Right.
Falcon pondered that for a moment, then realized what his next move had to be.
Chapter Four
“The thing is,” Taylor told Jillian the next night, “I really think I could like Falcon except for all the obvious reasons not to. None of which my heart is paying attention to, of course, which is a very bad sign. This only happened to me once before, when I fell for a completely inappropriate man. Luckily, the insanity eventually passed.”
Jillian put some glasses away behind the bar. “Callahans have been known to devastate the females of the population. I vote you gird your heart and go home and paint your toenails a pretty pink for your date.” Jillian smiled at her. “You should know the phone’s been ringing off the hook with men wanting to take you out.”
“Why?” Taylor sank onto a bar stool. She really didn’t want to go out with anyone besides Falcon. Then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go out with him again, considering last evening. Jillian was right: dating a Callahan was fraught with complications. “Why do men want to take me out?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I did hear a rumor that Fiona Callahan and her friends—conspirators, some call them—at the Books’n’Bingo Society decided this was the perfect opportunity to showcase Diablo’s most eligible bachelorette. I think they rented a barn roof near the highway to advertise that we had a Diablo princess. Any eligible bachelor was invited to call a number for vetting. Fiona said they’ve had a hundred calls, and only found three worthy of the princess. I think she designated the process Pick-a-Prince. I’d call her tone pleased.”
“The thing is,” Taylor said, ignoring the thought of three unfortunate princes Fiona might foist on her, “when I saw Falcon fighting, so big and strong, I’m pretty sure my heart sat up and noticed. He was like John Wayne, but dark and somehow calling to all my forbidden desires. My heart definitely sat up, Jillian.”
“Tell it to sit back down,” she advised. “You don’t need a fighter. You need a lover.”
Taylor would bet Falcon could do both. Through the Diablo grapevine, she’d heard that he had taken those horses she’d been worried about to Rancho Diablo, and had a vet and farrier brought out to care for them. If that didn’t warm a girl’s heart, nothing would. She dusted off the counter and began wiping down booths. “He told me we were going ghost hunting, and then he disappeared, and my first thought was that he was rude for trying to scare me to death. You warned me he was a rascal.” She sighed. “I think the evening might have scared up some of my own ghosts.”
Jillian smiled. “Fear of commitment, fear of love, fear of falling for a big, handsome Callahan. You can’t say I didn’t warn you to try to avoid temptation. There’s only one solution.”
“I know. Paint my toenails pink for tonight.”
“I’ll even let you off early so you can get started. The way to get your mind off one rascal is to get your mind on a different one.”
Blind dates were the pits. Nothing good could come of it, especially when she had a yen for a dark-eyed rebel—a different kind of prince entirely.
* * *
“N OW HERE ’ S THE DEAL,” Fiona told her nephew, “I’m on your side. But you’re going to have to be more forthcoming about some things. Right now it feels like we’re at cross purposes.”
Falcon put the saddle he was carrying onto one of the many split-rail fences that lined Rancho Diablo. “You’re running the prince pick-a-thon for Taylor. How are you on my side?”
“Don’t you worry about that.” Fiona gazed up at her nephew. He stood a good foot above her, but Fiona always gave the impression that she was the more powerful force. Her white hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense knot from which a strand rarely came loose. She wore her customary rubber boots, which gave her traction, she said, for the ups and downs of a busy life. “I expect you to have plenty of gumption where Taylor is concerned. You won’t disappoint me, I’m sure.”
He leaned against a wood rail, recognizing his aunt had something on her mind. “Forthcoming about what?”
“What Wolf wants.”
“I don’t know.”
She shook her head. “He didn’t try to drag you off for a chat because he’s the world’s most caring uncle.” Fiona touched Falcon’s cheek lightly over the bruise. “I’m sorry this happened. But you’re going to have