More reserved than J.T., he merely nodded and said simply, “Zach.”
“You’re just in time to join us for lunch.”
“No thanks. I’ve already eaten. I’ll just have a cup of coffee.” Righting the upside-down crockery mug in front of him, Zach signaled to the waitress.
“You sure you don’t want something to eat? This place doesn’t look like much, I know, but the food is great. I had dinner here last night after I got in.”
“No, I’m good.”
“How about—”
“He said he didn’t want anything,” Matt growled. “Let him be.”
“Hey, I was just being friendly. Something you should try once in a while, bro.”
Matt gave him a laser look. Unfazed, J.T. grinned back.
Zach took a sip of coffee. The brew scalded his tongue, but drinking it gave him an excuse to remain silent and observe.
No matter how hard he tried, he still had difficulty accepting that he and these two men were brothers. It just didn’t seem possible.
Which, he supposed, was normal, given the circumstances. Hell, until six weeks ago, when J.T. and Matt had tracked him down and broken the news to him, he’d had no idea he even had brothers. Learning at age thirty-five that he was one of a set of triplets had been a shocker.
At first he’d been certain they were trying to pull some sort of con, and he’d flatly refused to believe them. To be honest, he hadn’t wanted to believe them. Kate was his family—all the family he needed.
However, there was proof. Most conclusive of which was the odd irregular-cut wedge of flat silver that each wore on a chain around his neck—a token from a birth mother none of them could remember. Unconsciously, Zach raised his hand and rubbed his through his shirt.
The three jagged, pie-shaped wedges fit together perfectly to form a silver medallion. When whole, etched on one side was an R with a curved line under it, on the other side, in block print were the words, Rocking R Ranch and a post office box in Clear Water, Montana. Beneath the address were the words, “Your Heritage.”
Whoever she was, for whatever reason, the woman who had given each of them life had left this fragile link to one another and to their past.
Even so…it was still difficult to believe that they were related. They seemed to be as different in every way as any three men could be.
Other than all being six feet two inches tall and having the same general build, they looked nothing alike. Well…maybe, if you looked hard enough, you could see a slight resemblance between J.T. and Matt. They both had vivid blue eyes and dark hair, but Matt’s was black, whereas J.T.’s was a mahogany-brown. Zach’s own hair was the color of pale wheat, and if he spent too much time in the sunshine without a hat it bleached almost white, and his eyes were green.
The differences between the three of them went deeper than looks, though. Their personalities were nothing at all alike.
A former detective with the Houston police, Matt was tough and taciturn. To Zach’s eye, he had the look of a man who had seen too much of life’s seamy side to have any illusions left.
On the surface, J.T. appeared to be a lightweight. Movie-star handsome, charming to the ladies and amiable, he seemed to take little seriously. Before quitting his job to try his hand at novel writing, he’d been an investigative reporter for a Houston newspaper—an occupation that had often put him at odds with Matt. It did, however, require intelligence, talent and tenacity, and that made Zach wonder just how much of J.T.’s affability was a clever ploy he used to put people at ease to gain their trust.
He’d read J.T.’s first manuscript, and it was gut-wrenching, insightful and hard-hitting, hardly the work of a shallow playboy.
“By the way, Kate sends her love.”
Zach turned his head and fixed J.T. with an unwavering look. “How is she?”
“Terrific. And happy. Did you think she wouldn’t be?”
Zach let the question hang between them for several seconds, his eyes narrowing, searching J.T.’s face for the truth.
To his credit, J.T. met the stare without flinching.
At last Zach shrugged, which was as close to an apology as he intended to get. “I just can’t get used to you being married to my sister, is all.”
“Jeez, man, you make it sound like incest. Kate’s your adoptive sister. You’re not related by blood.”
“Yeah, well, we grew up together. She seems a damn sight more like kin than you do.”
Matt snorted. “I can sympathize with you there. My last eleven years as a cop, back when J.T. was a reporter, he was a constant thorn in my side. Imagine what a kick in the head it was for me when I found out that he was my brother. The two of us made the connection seven months ago and I still haven’t gotten used to the idea.”
“Hey, it was no thrill for me, either,” J.T. fired back, his perpetual good humor for once slipping. “But it’s a fact, so we’re all just going to have to deal with it.”
“True. Maybe it’ll be easier once we know more. Soon as we eat, we’ll get directions to the Rocking R Ranch.”
Zach frowned. “Are you two sure you want to do this?”
Matt gave him a sharp look, his coffee mug poised halfway to his mouth. “Why? Don’t you?”
“I just don’t see the point.”
“The point is to get some answers. Maybe meet our mother. Find out why she gave us up.”
“Why bother? Look, I’ve always known I was adopted, and it’s never bothered me. Why should it? No kid could’ve asked for better parents than the Mahoneys. I’ve sure as hell never felt deprived or been haunted by nightmares, or even felt any curiosity about my biological parents. Maybe you two have some unresolved issues, but I don’t. The way I figured it, our mother gave us away, so why should we go searching for her? As far as I’m concerned, the past is past. I say let it go.”
Matt looked at J.T. “He has a point.”
J.T. snapped, “Look, we’re entitled to some answers. At the very least, we should find out our family’s medical history in case any of us ever has kids of our own.”
“I guess you’re right,” Matt conceded. “Anyway, Maude Ann and Kate would kill us all if we didn’t see this through.”
“Okay, fine. As soon as you two finish eating we’ll go out to the ranch and get this over with. I wanta be outta here by morning. I got two days to get to my next rodeo.”
The waitress, a plump, fiftyish woman, bustled up to the table. “Here you go, fellas. Anything else I can ge—”
Her breezy chatter ended abruptly when she glanced at Zach. Her jaw dropped almost to her chest. “Oh, my stars! You’re Colleen Rafferty’s boy, aren’t you?”
Zach
