been running away from each other for so long, admitting that she’s pregnant by Judah is the last thing Darla would do. He never acts as if he likes her, much less loves her. Ladies do not dig the strong, silent type when they need some reassurance, and Judah’s been playing the role of Macho Man with gusto,” Jonas said. “What woman wants a man if she thinks he doesn’t love her?”
“Anyway, we’re in way over our heads here,” Rafe said. “We could have this all wrong. Maybe they never did the deed that night. Maybe Creed never saw them go off together. Darla could be pregnant by the bronc buster doctor, not that anyone ever mentioned them dating. It’s not like we can ask her, because she’s not even telling anyone she’s in a family way. Rumors may be flying, but no one’s going to mention them to the blushing bride.”
They thought about the problem some more, then Jonas shrugged. “We’ll know by November, I guess.”
“Or not,” Sam said. “She may choose to never reveal the real father.”
“And Judah loses out on being a dad,” Rafe mused. “Which would really be a loss, because he’d probably make a decent one. I mean, if Creed and Pete can do it, why not Judah?”
But there was nothing they could do about it. Darla was getting married, and Judah was gone, and neither one of them seemed to care that true love was being held captive by stubborn hearts.
“I hope I’m not that dumb when a beautiful woman loves me,” Sam said with a sigh, and both his brothers immediately said, “You will be.”
“But not as dumb as Judah,” Sam muttered to himself, listening to Judah’s truck roar away.
“I say it’s time we engage Aunt Fiona,” Jonas suggested, and his brothers nodded. “This situation could be dire.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Sam said, “but Judah certainly isn’t going to do anything to save himself.”
Chapter Two
Rafe, Sam and Jonas went to the kitchen to find Fiona. As a rule, she or Burke could be found there, or nearby, at least. It was nearly the dinner hour, a very odd time for Judah to decide to depart, which just showed that even an empty stomach hadn’t deterred his boneheadedness.
The kitchen was empty. The scents of wondrous culinary delights (Fiona could cook like no other, and Burke was no slouch in their shared gastronomic hobby) were absent. Rafe felt his stomach rumble and figured this might be an unannounced catch-as-catch-can night. They had those at Rancho Diablo, though rarely. Usually on the nights their fearless aunt had bingo or her book reading club or a church group, she cut them loose. But at least a pie would be left on the kitchen counter, with a note on the Today’s Meal chalkboard that read something to the effect of “Tough Luck! You’re Stuck!”
Tonight, all that was on the counter was a single bar of something silver. Rafe, Jonas and Sam crowded around it, perplexed.
“That’s not cherry pie,” Sam said.
“It’s mined silver,” Jonas said. “Mined and pressed into a bar. See the .925 on it?”
Rafe blinked. “Why would Fiona leave us a bar of silver?”
“All those years people have whispered about there being a silver mine on our land suddenly comes to mind,” Sam said, his voice hushed.
Rafe’s gaze went back to the bar. “We’ve been over every inch of Rancho Diablo. There’s no way.”
“I don’t know,” Jonas said. “Why else would Aunt Fiona have a silver bar?”
“Because she’s putting it in her stock portfolio,” Sam said. “She bought some through a television advertisement, or a jeweler, to diversify her nest egg. It’s not sound to leave all one’s investments in the stock market or the national currency. She’s just taken physical possession of some of her holdings, I would guess.”
“But what if it’s not part of her nest egg?” Rafe asked. “What if there really is a silver mine on Rancho Diablo? That would explain why Bode Jenkins is so hot to get this place.”
They heard Burke whistling upstairs, and the chirping sound of Fiona’s voice.
“Quick,” Jonas said. “Outside.”
They hustled out like furtive thieves. Rafe closed the door carefully behind him. His brothers had already skedaddled down the white graveled drive toward the barns.
Rafe hurried after them. “Why don’t we ask her what it is? What if there is silver on the ranch? What if Bode is sniffing around for it?”
“Then she probably wouldn’t have left proof of its existence lying out on the kitchen counter,” Sam said. “By now, Bode’s had this place satellite mapped, I’m sure. He’s had the geographic and mineral composition of the land gone over. If there was silver around here, he would know before we would.”
“All I’m suggesting,” Rafe said, “is that maybe it’s time we quit being so worried about offending Fiona. That we just ask her.”
His brothers stopped, gave him a long eyeballing. Rafe shrugged. “I mean, what the hell?” he asked. “If we have a silver mine, hurrah for us. It doesn’t change anything.”
“If there’s a silver mine, and Fiona’s been putting away dividends all these years, I don’t want to know.” Jonas shrugged. “Look, I love Fiona. I don’t give a damn if there’s solid gold under this ranch from corner to corner, and she plans to ferret all of it off like a conquistador. I really don’t care. So I’m not asking.”
Jonas had a point. Rafe didn’t want to hurt Fiona’s feelings, either. She’d given up a pretty decent life in Ireland to come take care of them, which couldn’t have been easy. They had not been a snap to raise. “All right,” Rafe said, “by now she’s probably hidden the damn thing. So can we go back now, act like we didn’t see it and go over the Judah problem with her? I’m pretty certain we need a guiding hand here.”
They went back to the house, and this time, Jonas banged on the kitchen door.
Fiona flung it open. “For heaven’s sake. Can’t you open a door by yourselves? Three big strong men can’t figure out how to use the key?” She glanced at the doorknob. “The door isn’t locked. Why are you knocking, like this isn’t your house?”
They stared at their tiny aunt. Her eyes were kind, her voice teasing, but she seemed truly mystified. Rafe swallowed. “Aunt Fiona, we wonder if you have a moment so we might pick your brain?”
“So you’re standing on the porch? You won’t pick it out there. When you’re ready, come inside.”
They went in, glancing at each other like errant school boys. “You bring up the joke condoms,” Rafe said quietly to Jonas. “You’re the oldest. I’m not comfortable talking about sex with my aunt.”
Jonas straightened his shoulders. “It’s not a conversation I want to have, but no doubt she’s heard worse.”
“That’s true,” Sam said. “You go for it, Jonas. We support you.”
Fiona
