(Calahan Cowboys 08) The Cowboy Soldier's Sons Read Free

you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to leave it here.”
    “Yeah, you did.” He wasn’t going to give her an inch.
    She didn’t say anything, and he felt her indecision. After a minute, the tall, gorgeous blonde carried the picnic basket to the farmhouse, disappearing inside. He stayed outside with Candy, never looking toward the house, yet listening for the sound of her white Land Rover to start up. After thirty minutes, when he didn’t hear it, he put Candy away with a hose-down she despised and a rub she tried to kick him for as her equine thank-you. Then he let her go, after putting out hay for her to eyeball with wild eyes. She galloped off to forage for herself—but he knew she’d remember that treats were here and always available after training.
    She’d remember, and she’d have to make up her mind to cool her attitude just a bit, day by day.
    He went inside the house, took off his boots. The picnic basket wasn’t on the table. Instead, the table had been set, with white wine in the glasses. Tempest was asleep on the sofa, her long, silky hair falling over her shoulder.
    He could stand here all day, doing nothing more than stare at her.
    But she hadn’t come here to be stared at.
    “Cupertino,” he said, “wake up.”
    She came awake, her big blue eyes widening when she saw him standing over her. “Thanks for the grub,” he said. “Either you go now or you stay. If you stay, know that I intend to love you like you’ve never been loved.”
    She didn’t move, but kept her wide eyes locked on his, with that same angelic look she’d worn two nights before.
    “Fair warning,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her from the sofa. “Get the strawberries. I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
    She made a move to do as he requested, but when he started slowly undoing the buttons on her blouse, she didn’t pull away. Shaman kissed her, ravaging her mouth, not bothering to hide the fact that he wanted her like mad. She moaned, and he murmured, “Rain check later,” and carried her down the hall.
    * * *
    T WO WEEKS LATER , Shaman waved to the demolition crew who’d come to raze the barn, his brother Gage standing nearby to help oversee it with him. Today was the day, a big day. Finally, they could begin the complete rebuilding of Dark Diablo. Tearing down the barn and bunkhouse was necessary in the vision Jonas Callahan had for his vast acreage.
    It was good to tear down old and build new. Cleared out ghosts.
    “What is that?” Gage demanded, his vision not on the crew’s heavy equipment, as it should have been, but on the fabulous blonde leaving the farmhouse after a very satisfying night spent in Shaman’s arms.
    “Looks like a woman to me,” he said. “Focus, bro. We’ve got a job to do here.”
    “I know it’s a woman. In fact, I know who it is.” Gage stared at him. “What I want to know is why she’s here.”
    Shaman shrugged. “Cupertino hangs around on occasion, brings me a meal or two.”
    His brother was agog. “Not you.”
    He shrugged again. “Guess so.”
    They watched the blonde get in her Land Rover and drive away. Shaman always hated to see her go. He never knew if she’d return. She usually came around dinnertime, and stayed through the night, letting him worship her between the sheets.
    Sometimes she didn’t return for a day or two, and that always worried him. One day she’d get tired of him, a simple man with not much to offer, and he would never see her again. Whatever demons she was exorcising out of her soul were nothing she cared to talk about. In fact, the two of them didn’t do much talking.
    “Listen,” his brother said. “Tempest is not someone you just toy with. That is a very kind woman. Cat and Chelsea consider her a friend.”
    “Yeah.” Shaman liked her, too. His gaze went back to the giant bulldozer about to push into the enormous old barn. “She’s real nice.”
    “No, no.” Gage shook his head. “You don’t understand. Tempest is a