Rumors: The McCaffertys: The McCaffertys: Thorne. Lisa Jackson

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that. Literally.”

      “Call him,” Thorne said, persuaded by his usually cynical brother’s conviction.

      “Already have.”

      Thorne was surprised that Slade had already started the ball rolling. “I want to talk to him.”

      “You will.”

      “I’ll keep on top of the doctors at the hospital,” Thorne said. “I’ll can do most of my business here by phone, fax and e-mail, so I won’t have to go back to Denver for a while.”

      Matt held his gaze for a long second and for the first time in his life Thorne realized that his middle brother didn’t approve of his lifestyle. Not that it really mattered. “Then let’s just get through this,” Matt finally said, as if he suddenly trusted Thorne again, as he had a long time before.

      “We will.”

      “As long as Randi cooperates,” Slade said.

      “She’s a fighter.” Thorne’s reaction was swift and he recognized the irony of his words. Phrases such as she’s really strong, she’ll make it, or she’s too ornery to die, or she’s a fighter, were hollow words, expressed by people who usually doubted their meaning. They were uttered to chase away the person’s own fears.

      “Look, I’m going to take inventory of the feed,” Matt said.

      “I’ll check the gas pump, see what’s in the tank.” Slade snagged his jacket with one finger and the two younger brothers headed for the front door.

      Thorne watched them through the window. Slade paused to light a cigarette on the porch while Matt jogged across the lot, disappearing into the barn again.

      As kids they’d been through a lot together; depended upon each other, but as men, they’d gone about their own lives. Thorne had become the businessman, first law school and a stint with a firm before branching out on his own. His father had been right. He’d wanted to prove himself and the measure of a man’s success, he’d always thought, was the size of his bank account.

      For the first time in his life he wondered if he’d been wrong. Thinking of Randi battling death and her newborn son just starting his life gave him pause as he walked down the hallway where family portraits graced the walls. There were pictures of his father and mother, his stepmother and all four McCafferty children. Thorne in his high school football uniform and his graduation cap and gown, Matt riding a bucking bronco in a local rodeo, Slade skiing down a steep mountain and Randi in her prom dress, standing next to some boy Thorne couldn’t begin to name. He stopped, touched that framed photo and silently vowed that he’d do anything, anything to make sure she was healthy again. He’d heat a cup of coffee, then call Nicole. She might have more news on his sister. That was the only reason he was calling her, he reminded himself as he walked into the kitchen and snapped on the lights. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his reflection in the windows. For a split second he imagined a mite of a woman with wide gold eyes and a fleeting smile at his side, then pulled himself up short.

      What was he thinking? Nicole was Randi’s ER admitting physician and that was it. Nothing more. Yet, ever since he’d first seen her in her office at the hospital, her heels propped on her desk, and her chair leaned back as she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder, he hadn’t been able to force her from his mind. It hadn’t helped that when he’d caught up with her in the parking lot, he’d seen her not as Randi’s doctor, but as a woman—a beautiful, bright and articulate woman. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from kissing her and he’d been thinking about it off and on ever since. Nicole Sanders Stevenson was all grown-up, educated and self-confident—more intriguing now than she had been as a girl of seventeen. Despite her small stature she was a force to be reckoned with—way too much trouble for any man.

      And yet…

      The wall phone jangled. Snapped out of the ridiculous path of his thoughts, he grabbed the receiver on the second ring. “McCafferty ranch,” he said. “Thorne McCafferty.”

      “So you are there!” a sharp female voice accused, and Thorne envisioned Annette’s pretty face in a scowl. He’d dated her for a few months, but had never really connected with her. “What in the world happened? We were supposed to meet the mayor last night!” Annette’s tone brought him up sharp and he gave himself a quick mental shake. He’d never called her. Never once thought of her after leaving his office yesterday.

      “There was a family emergency.”

      “So you couldn’t pick up a phone? You have a cell phone and you’re on one right now…oh, listen, I don’t mean to go off on you.” She took in a deep, audible breath. “Your secretary told me that your half sister was in some kind of wreck and I’m sorry for her, I really am. I hope she’s okay…?”

      “She’s in a coma.”

      “Oh, God.” There was another long, weighty pause. “Well, I, um, understand, I really do. Dear Lord, how awful. I know you had to get back there in a hurry, Thorne. That’s understandable and I made your apologies to my father and the mayor, but it seems to me that you could have called me yourself.”

      “I should have.”

      “Yeah…oh, well.” She sighed. “Dad was disappointed.”

      “Was he?” Thorne drawled, imagining Kent Williams’s reaction. The shrewd old man was probably in a stew as he’d wanted to invest with Thorne and was hoping they could cozy up with members of the city council and get an edge on a zoning ordinance that was up for review. “Thanks for giving him my apologies. You didn’t have to do that. I would have called him.”

      “And me, would you have called me?”

      “Yes.”

      “Eventually.”

      “Right.” No reason to lie. “Eventually.”

      “Oh, Thorne.” She let out a world-weary sigh and some of the shrewishness in her voice disappeared. “I miss you.”

      Did she? He doubted it and their relationship had always left him feeling alone. “It looks like I’m going to be in Montana a while.”

      “Oh.” There was hesitation in her voice. “How long?”

      “A few weeks, maybe months. It all depends on Randi.”

      “But what about your work?”

      “What about it?”

      “It’s—it’s your life.”

      Was my life, he wanted to say. Instead, added, “Things have changed.”

      “Have they?” Silent accusations sizzled over the wires.

      “Afraid so.”

      “What does that mean?” But she knew. It was obvious. “You know, there are other men who are interested in me. I’ve put them on hold because of you.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      She waited and the silence ticked between them. “So, what’re you telling me, Thorne?” she asked. “That it’s over?

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