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Thunderstruck
Thunderstruck
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Thunderstruck

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After much inner debate, she’d bought a king bed. Ironically, she’d never shared it with a guy. She’d had two semiserious boyfriends since moving here, and in both cases she’d always ended up at the guy’s apartment whenever they spent the night together.

Each had come up with a different excuse. One had insisted his bed was the best in the universe, and the other one had thought his shower was a great place for sex. She had a different theory, though.

Her construction abilities might be intimidating to some men, and her expertise was very much on display in this house. That insight had come after her last boyfriend had tried to talk her into selling her cabin and moving in with him. No, and hell no.

She’d begun to think of the cabin as a test to find out whether a man could accept who she was. So far she’d had no likely candidate to substantiate her theory. Damon certainly wouldn’t qualify even though she had the distinct impression that Rosie was matchmaking.

Otherwise, why show Phil a bunch of pictures of the guy, who was surfer-boy gorgeous with his sun-bleached hair and laughing gray eyes? Phil appreciated nice abs and a great smile as much as the next woman. But according to Rosie, Damon avoided getting attached to anyone or anything, a trait Rosie had called a damned shame.

Phil loved Rosie, but not enough to tackle her fixer-upper of a foster son. House renovations were one thing. People renovations were a whole other issue, and Phil had no talent for it. Either a guy was right or he wasn’t, and from all indications, Damon fell into Category B.

* * *

WAITING FOR CADE on the sidewalk outside the Sheridan airport felt like déjà vu, but at least the circumstances were better this time. Cade had picked Damon up less than a month ago when they’d all thought Rosie had suffered a heart attack. Fortunately, she’d had something not nearly so critical, a condition called broken-heart syndrome.

Apparently, the thought of losing Thunder Mountain Ranch had created symptoms very similar to a heart attack. Even though the diagnosis had been less dire, everyone who loved Rosie had vowed to do what they could to save the ranch. Consequently, Damon was flying to Sheridan for the second time this summer.

Cade pulled up in his trusty black truck, the same one he’d been driving for at least ten years.

Damon hopped in, dropped his duffel at his feet and grinned at his foster brother. “Are you and Lexi engaged yet, bro?” A month ago Cade had been reunited with Lexi, his high school sweetheart, but there were issues.

“Don’t start with me.” But Cade grinned back and offered his hand for the ritual Thunder Mountain Brotherhood handshake.

Damon closed the passenger door and buckled up. “I have your wedding present all picked out. I’m just waiting for Lexi to pop the question.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Cade tugged on the brim of his battered Stetson and put the truck in gear. “I had no idea what it was like waiting for someone to propose. Every guy should have to go through this, because let me tell you, it’s hell.”

“I’ll bet. She still likes you, though, right?”

“Most of the time. But there’s a lot I don’t understand about women.”

“I’m sure we could all say that.” Damon knew for a fact that Cade and Lexi loved each other, but five years ago Cade had left town after telling Lexi marriage wasn’t for him. Now he was back and ready to tie the knot but Lexi wanted to hold off.

“She might be waiting until after the Kickstarter deadline,” Cade said, “to make sure Thunder Mountain Academy is a go before we make any plans. But September first seems like forever. I almost regret saying the decision was up to her. But I said it, so now I have to stick by it.”

“Maybe you should take her to a fancy hotel in Jackson Hole, drink a bunch of champagne and talk her into it.”

“That’s either manipulation or coercion or both. Not doing it.”

“So maybe I should talk to her and put the bug in her ear.”

“Don’t, bro. This has to be her idea. If you start making suggestions, you could mess things up.”

Damon sighed and leaned back against the seat. “Then I’m out of ideas. I know how to get them into bed, but I’ve never tried to get them to the altar. I only have one piece of advice. Plenty of orgasms.”

Cade laughed. “Got that covered.”

“Then you’re doing all a man can do.”

“In fact, I spend most of my nights at her place, FYI.”

Damon pretended dismay. “Are you telling me that I have to sleep in the Brotherhood cabin all by myself?”

“Ringo will keep you company. You might have to go get him, though. Now that he’s settled in, he spends his nights in the barn hunting mice.”

“Wouldn’t want to deprive him of that pleasure.” Damon had bonded with the gray tabby on his last trip. “But I’ll definitely pay him a visit. I have a can of treats in my duffel.”

“Have you adopted a couple of kittens like Lexi suggested?”

“Not yet. I’ll see about it after I get back. No sense in getting them and then leaving for seven days.”

“True.”

“Any uptick in the Kickstarter contributions?”

“Some, but not as much as we’d like.” Cade paused. “It’s been suggested that I contact the Chance brothers and see if they’ll put the word out.”

“Who suggested that?” It had to be a touchy subject for Cade. Until last month he’d thought he was alone in the world except for his foster family. Then a cousin had shown up. Molly Gallagher Radcliffe, now married to a saddle maker in town named Ben Radcliffe, had informed Cade that he was related to her family in Arizona and the influential Chance clan over in Jackson Hole.

“Molly, for one. She’s been at the ranch a lot to discuss the curriculum for the academy so the kids will get class credit.”

“Yeah, we’re lucky that she’s a college professor and knows about these things. But she’s a cousin to the Chances just like you are. Why can’t she tell them about the Kickstarter project?”

“She thinks that would make it seem like I don’t have the cojones to say something, since it’s a Thunder Mountain Ranch project, and I’m more directly involved than she is.”

Damon took off his Ray-Ban sunglasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “That makes sense, I guess.” He put the glasses back on. “So who else is after you to buddy up to the Chances?”

“Lexi is, sort of. She figures they’d want to know because they’re civic-minded and ready to help anybody, and there’s a family connection through me, which makes it more likely they’d want to help. I admit that’s a good point, but she’s not pushing me to do it.”

“Have you and the Chances talked at all?”

“Not yet. But I promised Lexi I’d go with her when she conducts a riding clinic over there on the fifteenth.”

“That’s less than two weeks away.”

“It sure as hell is, and I still don’t know what to do. That would be the time to mention Thunder Mountain Academy if I’m ever going to, but...”

“I get it.” Damon wondered if anyone who hadn’t been a foster kid would, though. “You don’t want to meet them and immediately ask a favor.”

“Right.” Cade blew out a breath. “But I finally called Molly’s dad last week because I thought I should start with Molly’s side of the family. So here I was on the phone with an uncle I’ve never met, and we’re talking about my mom dying, and he starts to cry.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. She was his sister, but I got choked up, too. I thought I was over it. It’s been fifteen years.”

Damon nodded in understanding. “Stuff can come back to bite you. I still have that same nightmare. Not as much, but I had it again last week.”

“Yeah, sometimes I have bad dreams about my dad, too.” As Cade left city traffic and continued on to the highway that would take them to the ranch turnoff, they stopped talking. Damon appreciated that about his brothers. They all had demons of one kind or another, and they sensed when to end the chitchat and devote some time to just being quiet.

Cade had his load to carry. Abandoned by his abusive father, he’d lost his mother to cancer. By then his mom had changed all their records from Marlowe to her maiden name of Gallagher. Cade had assumed her family had turned their back on her, but really she’d been too ashamed of her situation to notify her family of her illness. Now Cade had suddenly been thrust into two extended families, which could be good once he got over the awkward parts.

Damon had no illusions that he was connected to any reputable families. He’d run away at twelve and had concocted an elaborate story that had landed him a temporary home with the family of a kid he’d known at school. By the time CPS had been called in, his parents had left town without a trace, probably relieved that he was gone.

In his recurring nightmare, he was a kid barely existing in the pigsty of whatever cheap housing his parents had found. While they were passed out drunk, he searched the cupboards for something to eat, and nothing was ever there. He woke up shaking and sweating.

When he’d lived in the cabin with Cade and Finn, they used to tell him jokes until he’d settled down. And they’d always kept snacks around for those times, too, because he’d wake up starving even if he’d had a good dinner that night.

To calm himself these days, he got up and walked around whatever house he was renovating. He kept his surroundings neat. He put away his tools, swept up sawdust and closed paint cans at the end of every day. He always had food in the cupboard, too.

Eventually, Cade broke the silence. “Did you ever go to that shrink Rosie recommended, the one the county would pay for?”

“Once. She was okay, but I got more mileage out of mucking out stalls. Did you go?” As close as they were, it was the kind of thing they would have kept to themselves.

“Yeah, five years ago after Lexi and I had our big fight about getting married. Nice lady, and she gave it to me straight. She said marriage would probably be a mistake until I had a better handle on who I was and what I wanted out of life. She was right.”

“I’m sure she was, but at the time I was royally pissed at you for running out on Lexi. Poor girl was a basket case.”

“And now she says I did her a favor.”

Damon chuckled. “The woman has attitude. Is she coming to dinner tonight?”

“Yep.”

“Good. And Rosie told me she’d invited Phil so we can meet each other before we start work in the morning.”

“Yep.”

“What’s your take on Phil?”

“Um...” Cade paused to clear his throat. “I’d rather not say.”

Damon stared at him. “What do you mean, you’d rather not say? Don’t you like him?”

“Look, I can’t talk to you about Phil without breaking a solemn promise to Lexi, and I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why in God’s name would you make such a promise?”

“Can we change the subject?”

“Is he an escaped felon?”

“No.”

“Undocumented alien?”

“No. Did you notice the wildflowers along the road? They’re spectacular this summer. I don’t think I’ve ever seen—”

“Screw the effing wildflowers! Is he gay? I’ll bet that’s it, and if you all think I’m too prejudiced to work with a gay man, you’d be dead wrong. That’s not an issue with me, so—”

“Phil’s not gay.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

“If there’s no problem, why are you dancing all around the subject?”

Cade sighed. “I knew I should’ve had Lexi pick you up.”

“If you’d sent Lexi to fetch me, I would have known for sure something was fishy.”

“Yeah, but Lexi’s better at handling things like this than I am.”

Damon rolled his eyes. This was going to drive him crazy. “I have half a mind to invoke the Brotherhood oath.”

“Please don’t. Then I’m caught between betraying the oath and betraying Lexi. My head will explode.”

“I just bet it would, too, honest as you are. Which is why I won’t do that to you.”

“Damon, it’s nothing bad.”

“It better not be.”

“We’re almost there. In about two minutes this discussion will be irrelevant. Admire the wildflowers until we get there.”

Scowling, Damon glanced out the window. He had to admit that the purple, yellow and occasional splashes of red along the road made a pretty picture this time of year. But what was the deal with Phil?

Cade pulled into the circular drive in front of the rambling house where Damon had spent the happiest years of his life. Fourth of July bunting hung from the porch railing as it did every year. This place gave him such a lift that he couldn’t imagine not being able to come back here. The Kickstarter project just had to work.

Rosie and Herb must have been watching for the truck, because they came out on the porch to greet him. Leaving his duffel, he jumped out, pulled off his sunglasses and jogged up the steps to give each of them a big hug. Damn, but it was good to be home. He’d been at the ranch three weeks ago, but it seemed longer.

“Oh, and Phil’s here,” Rosie said.

“Great!” At last he’d solve the mystery. Tucking his glasses in the vee of his shirt, he looked past Rosie to the person standing in the open doorway. That sure wasn’t Phil, so the guy must have stayed inside.

She was tall, maybe five-nine, and slim. Her shoulder-length red hair made him think of polished cherrywood, and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks added a wholesome touch. In contrast, her full mouth would tempt a priest to forget his vows.

But her eyes were the most striking thing about her. They were the saturated blue of a Wyoming sky on a hot summer day. A shirt in the same shade had been a good choice on her part. He had to drag his gaze from hers. She was just that mesmerizing. She might be Phil’s girl, though, so he’d have to be careful.

Her jeans and boots were the type everybody wore around here, but on her they looked especially nice. If this was Phil’s girlfriend, Damon was impressed. The guy had excellent taste.

But when she walked forward, hand outstretched and mischief dancing in those blue eyes, he suddenly knew he’d been had.

“It’s good to meet you, Damon.” Her voice trembled slightly as if she might be holding back laughter. “I’m Philomena Turner.”

2 (#u6998fab3-bb41-5d03-b5cb-3ee8bfbcd3a2)

PHIL UNDERSTOOD RIGHT away why Rosie had said Damon had his pick of women. His expression when he’d caught sight of her had been filled with enough warm masculine appreciation to coax a response from her normally unflappable libido. All the years she’d spent hanging out with construction guys should have made her immune to such glances. Instead, her hormones were dancing a spirited two-step.