Jonas, pushing eighty-five. Was it really possible? He hadn’t seen his father in a year. Two, maybe. But in his mind’s eye, Jonas was ageless, with a body as tough and straight as an ironwood tree and silver eyes that could stare down a hawk.
He put down the vellum card. Eighty-five. That was quite a number. Well, he’d have to phone on the—what day was it, anyway? The fourteenth of June? The fifteenth? Either way, he’d call the ranch, wish the old man a happy birthday. And send him a gift, of course, though what you could send a man who had everything he wanted and disdained everything else was beyond him.
Gage’s expression softened. He’d make a separate call, to Caitlin. Explain that, much as he wanted to, he couldn’t possibly break away and—
His private phone rang. The sound startled him. No one had that number except—
“Baby,” he said, grabbing the phone. “Natalie, I love you so—”
“And I love you, too, precious,” a falsetto voice warbled, “but my husband’s starting to get suspicious.”
Gage jerked upright in his chair. “Travis? Trav, is that you?”
A deep, masculine chuckle sounded over the line. “I know it’s probably disappointing as all get-out but yeah, it’s me. Good morning.”
A slow smile spread across Gage’s lips.
“Good morning?” He glanced at his watch and gave a soft whistle. “My, oh, my, I am impressed, Travis. Why, it’s hardly seven o’clock, your time. I didn’t think you West Coast big shots turned over in bed until us hardworkin’ Easterners were darned near havin’ lunch.”
“I already told him that,” another deep, lazy voice said.
Gage’s smile became a grin. “Slade?”
“The one and only,” Slade Baron replied.
“Hell, I don’t believe this! What are you two guys doin’? Havin’ a reunion out there in Malibu? Or are you both in Boston, livin’ it up in that big old house on Beacon Hill my little brother calls home?”
“I’m in Boston,” Slade said.
“And I’m in Malibu,” Travis said. “This three-way brotherly phone call is comin’ to you courtesy of the marvels of modern-day science.”
“I’ll bet it’s the only three-way ever been done by telephone,” Slade said with a wicked grin at the pretty young secretary who’d just brought him his coffee. “Thank you, darlin’.”
“Don’t you ‘darlin” me, pal,” Travis said with a mock growl, “or I’ll fly straight to that fancy-pants mansion of yours and beat you up the way I used to when you were a scrawny twelve-year-old and I was a strappin’ lad of thirteen.”
“Uh-huh. You an’ who else?”
“Me an’ my man Gage. Isn’t that right, Gage?” Travis chuckled. “’Course, it’ll have to wait until the sun gets up in the sky a piece, so my brain starts workin’ right.”
All three brothers laughed. Gage could have sworn he felt that laughter reach out over the miles and enfold him in its warmth.
It never failed to amaze him, how easily they all fell into the teasing repartee of childhood. Months went by now without their seeing each other but it didn’t matter. The small battles they’d fought as kids didn’t matter, either. Put two of them together in a room—or on a telephone line—and the memories flooded back. Put three of them together and it was as if the years had fallen away. Even their accents changed and took on the soft, drawling cadence of their growing-up years in Texas, until Travis finally cleared his throat and got down to the reason for the call.
“Okay, guys,” he said, and sighed. “I wish to hell we could avoid the topic and I’m sure you do, too, but it’s time for a reality check.”
“The invitation,” Slade said.
Gage heard the rustle of paper over the line. “You got yours, too?”
“This morning, bright and early. Trav?”
“Bright and early is right. Mine arrived at six.”
Slade laughed. “And interrupted you and a guest.”
“Go on,” Travis hestitated. “Let’s just say I was otherwise involved when I got this invitation.”
“What a tough life he leads,” Slade drawled.
“I’d expect some compassion from you, kid,” Travis said. “Not from Gage, of course, since he gave up his freedom years ago.” His voice softened. “How’s my girl, by the way? You still treating her right, or is she about ready to use that pretty head of hers and ditch you for me?”
Gage’s smile faded. “She’s fine,” he said tightly, and knew he’d made a mistake the minute he heard the overwhelming silence humming across the lines.
“Gage?” Slade said. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Travis said. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes.”
“You sure? Because you don’t sound—”
“Listen, maybe you two guys can horse around all day,” Gage said, even more tightly, “but I’ve got things to do. So let’s get down to it, okay?”
There was the sound of throat-clearing on both coasts. “Right,” Slade said. “Uh, business. Well, Travis already put the agenda on the table. What are we going to do about this command performance the old man’s got planned for the middle of the month?”
“Ignore it,” Gage said firmly. “I’ve got—”
“Things to do,” Travis said. “Yeah, I heard that. And believe me, I don’t have any greater desire to go back to Espada for a dress rehearsal of King Lear than either of you guys, but—”
“Lear?” Slade said, sounding puzzled. “Hey, this is Texas we’re talking about, not Stratford-on-Avon.”
“Come on, Slade, give me a break. You know what this is all about. Jonas is starting to feel mortal.”
“Jonas?” Slade snorted. “Our father’s got every intention of making it to one hundred and you know what? My money’s on him.”
“Mine, too. But I suspect the old boy’s looking around, taking stock of that little spread of seven zillion acres he calls home, sweet home, and figuring it’s time he made plans on how to divvy up the kingdom.”
“Well, I don’t need to spend a miserable weekend listening to him snap out orders to know that I don’t give a damn how he does it.” Gage rose from his chair, paced to the door, opened it and mimed that he was drinking a cup of coffee to Rosa, who nodded and slipped out from behind her desk. “I’ll send a gift, phone the ranch, wish Jonas the best…” He smiled his thanks as Rosa handed him a cup. “You two guys can enjoy the party without me,” he finished as he sat down at his desk again.
“Hold it right there, pal.” Slade’s voice rang with indignation. “I never said I was going. In fact, I’m going to be in Baltimore that weekend.”
“Or in the Antarctic,” Travis said lazily. “Anywhere it takes to avoid this shindig, right?”
“Wrong. I’ve put in the past eight weeks on plans for a new bank in Baltimore, and I’ll be damned if—”
“Easy does it, Slade. I was just kidding.”
Slade sighed. “And I was lying through my teeth. Not about the commission, but about why I can’t make it to Espada.”
“Amazing,”