Always a McBride (5 page)

“Oh, no you don't!” Phoebe laughed. “Don't even think about trying to pawn one of them off on me. They're just as sweet as they can be, but a puppy's the last thing I need.”

“But it would be such company for you,” Merry said, her blue eyes twinkling. “C'mon, Phoebe, at least consider the idea. You know you want to. There's no better way to get unconditional love.”

Phoebe didn't doubt that—and there was nothing she loved more than a puppy—but the timing was all wrong. Her future was up in the air, her plans too uncertain. If working at Myrtle's bed and breakfast turned out to be half as enjoyable as she knew it was going to be, then she had some major career decisions to make when she went back home. If she decided to follow her heart and open her own bed and breakfast, she'd have to find the appropriate location, sell her father's business, move, get the business up and running. And she couldn't do that with a puppy underfoot.

“Nice try,” she said with a grin, “but it's not going to work. I've got too much going on right now. Maybe next year.”

“Give me a call when you're ready,” Merry said, understanding, as she returned the puppy she held to the box where his brothers and sisters were sleeping. “Someone's always bringing me a stray litter of puppies.”

“You're the first person I'll call,” Phoebe assured her as Merry hefted the box of puppies and started down
the central hall to the front door. “Here, let me get the door for you.”

Pulling the door open for her, she pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the front porch, only to find herself face to face with Taylor as he came up the steps to the porch. “Oh!” she said, startled, frowning as her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Why did she always have this crazy reaction whenever she laid eyes on the man? She didn't even like him! “I thought you were at the library.”

“I found everything I needed,” he replied, and glanced past her to Merry, who'd just stepped through the front door with the box of puppies.

Phoebe saw him catch his breath and wasn't surprised. Everyone reacted to Merry that way when they met her for the first time. She was drop-dead gorgeous…and one of the nicest women Phoebe knew. Like all the McBrides, she would give the shirt off her back to someone in need.

“Merry, this is my first guest, Taylor Bishop,” she said, breaking the silence that had fallen with Taylor's arrival. “He's a writer. He's doing a book on the ranching families that helped settle Colorado.”

“Oh, really?” Smiling easily, she said, “Then you need to talk to my mother and brothers. And Janey, too,” she added. “She did the family genealogy and traced the McBrides all the way back to Scotland.”

Still dazed, Taylor hardly heard her. This was his half sister? This was unbelievable. She was beautiful. She was—

“Taylor? Are you all right?”

Glancing up from his thoughts, he found both Phoebe and Merry grinning at him. For the first time in a long
time, a blush stung his cheeks. “I feel like I just put my foot in my mouth and I didn't say a word.”

“I seem to have that effect on people,” Merry chuckled. “It's nice to meet you, Taylor. Welcome to Liberty Hill.”

“Thank you,” he said gruffly, and only just then realized that the puppies she was holding had to be heavy. “Here, let me take those for you. Where did you want them?”

“In my truck,” she said, nodding toward the white Explorer sitting at the curb. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he assured her, and easily carried the puppies to the truck.

“He's nice,” Merry said quietly to Phoebe, “when he lets down his guard. He should do it more often.”

Phoebe didn't know if she would have described him as nice or not, but she had to agree with Merry. When he forgot to be so angry, he was devastatingly attractive. Who would have thought it?

Walking with Merry out to her truck as Taylor carefully deposited the puppies in the back seat, she was still marvelling at the change in her guest's attitude when he turned back to Merry and said solemnly, “Phoebe said your father is dead. I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping to talk to as many of the old ranchers in the area as possible about the old days.”

“Dad would have enjoyed that,” she said with a smile. “I remember when I was a kid, he used to tell us stories about the ranch that his father told him.”

“How old were you when he died?”

“Twelve,” she replied. “It was a shock for all of us—he was only forty-four. My mother was in shock, of course, but I think it was hardest on my brother Joe. He was eighteen and about to go off to college when
Dad died. Mom wanted him to go on and go, but Joe knew she couldn't run the ranch by herself and raise the rest of us. So he did it for her.”

“What about college?” Taylor asked. “Did he ever go?”

“No,” she said simply. “Zeke went on to get his Ph.D, I went to veterinary school and Janey became an RN, but Joe never went. We owe him a lot. If he hadn't run the ranch and helped put all of us through school, there's no telling what any of us would be doing now.”

Taylor doubted that any of them would have ended up waiting tables—they all sounded too intelligent for that—but there was no question that their lives would have been different if it hadn't been for the fact that Joe had sacrificed his own education for theirs. And that gave him a lot to think about. He'd always thought that if his father had any other children, they'd probably been blessed with a golden childhood, free of the worries and lack of security he'd grown up with. Apparently, they'd gone through rough times, too, if Joe had to give up college to keep the family afloat.

For a moment, he almost felt sorry for the unknown Joe. But then a bitter voice in his head pointed out that while he, himself, had been living in roach-invested government housing as a child, his half brothers and sisters had been growing up on a ranch that was, no doubt, nearly as big as Rocky Mountain National Park. Poor Joe? He didn't think so.

“You would all have probably still found a way to go to college,” he retorted. “And your brother would still have turned out to be a rancher whether he went to college or not. It's obviously in his blood.”

“Actually, it's in all our blood,” Merry replied with a smile. “Janey and I might not be working the ranch
like the boys, but we love it as much as they do. I guess that's why we all built our homes within a few miles of the homestead. It'll always be home.”

Because she was a McBride,
Taylor thought grimly. A
legitimate
McBride. They all were. He wasn't and never would be. There would be no home on the range for him, no sense of family, no belonging that they took for granted. Because their father—and his—had not been an honorable man.

“You know, you really should come out and see the ranch,” Merry told him with a smile. “We all get together once a week for dinner, just to keep in touch and find out what's going on in each other's lives. We're going to Joe's tonight. Why don't you come? You, too, Phoebe,” she added. “We always have enough food for an army, and I know everyone would love to see you.”

Surprised, Phoebe blinked. “Oh, no, I couldn't. It's a family get-together. I wouldn't want to intrude on that or Taylor's work. I can see everyone another time.”

Elated—he'd never dreamed he'd be invited to the ranch this quickly!—Taylor was determined not to lose this chance. “You wouldn't be intruding, Phoebe,” he assured her, “at least, not on my work. Most of my research involves talking to people, recording their conversations, and transcribing the tapes later. There's no reason why you can't be there, visiting with your friends. And I don't have a car. Remember? I called Colorado Springs to see about getting a rental, but it won't be delivered until tomorrow morning. So, in the meantime, I'm afoot. If you've got other plans and can't go, I understand, but I could really use a ride. And if you're going to drive me out there, you might as well stay to eat and visit.”

Put on the spot, she couldn't come up with a reason
to turn him down, especially when his plan made perfect sense. Reluctantly, she agreed. “If you're both sure…”

“It'll be fun,” Merry assured her, hugging her. “Be at Joe's at seven. And don't worry about bringing anything. Like I said, there'll be plenty to eat.” The puppies chose that moment to cry out from her truck and she grinned. “It sounds like the natives are getting restless. I've got to go. See you both tonight.”

She was gone so fast, Phoebe didn't have time to reconsider what she'd agreed to until it was too late. Then it hit her. For all practical purposes, she had agreed to attend a dinner party with Taylor. Dear God, they had a date and she didn't even know how it had happened!

She should have backed out immediately. She loved the McBrides and didn't doubt that she'd enjoy visiting with all of them, but not with Taylor. She hadn't forgotten how her heart kicked at the sight of him. There was something about him that put her on edge, and for the life of her, she didn't know why. She didn't want to be so aware of him, but she couldn't seem to help herself. And that troubled her. She hardly knew the man, and what she did know about him she wasn't sure she liked. He was moody and surly, and too sophisticated for a woman like her. Knowing that, she should have kept her distance, been as cool and reserved as he, and looked forward to the day he checked out. Instead, she'd stupidly agreed to go to the McBrides' with him. She must have been out of her mind.

 

At ten minutes to six, Phoebe stood in front of her closet, frowning at the meager supply of clothes she'd brought with her and wondering what in the world she
was going to wear on a date that she was determined wasn't going to be a date at all. She'd had all day to think about it, and she'd realized that the only reason Taylor had pushed her to accept Merry's invitation was so that he'd have a ride out to the ranch. That should have calmed the butterflies that had fluttered in her stomach all afternoon. She was just giving him a ride, and for convenience's sake, she'd stay to visit with her friends while he worked. In no way, shape or form, could that be considered a date.

So why did it feel like one?

Frowning at the thought, Phoebe told herself to grab something from the closet, anything. It didn't matter what she wore—she didn't have a date! She was just having dinner with some old friends and a guest who wasn't the least bit interested in her. And that was fine. She wasn't trying to attract his attention or look pretty for him. She could throw on anything decent, pull a brush through her hair, and she was good to go. No problem.

But knowing that and doing it were two different things. Every time she reached for something simple and comfortable, she found her hand drifting, instead, to something a little nicer, something soft and feminine that brought out the blue of her eyes. It was damned irritating.

Frustrated, she muttered, “You're running out of time, Phoebe. Pick something!”

Closing her eyes, she grabbed the first hanger her fingers touched and told herself she would wear it regardless of what it was. When she opened her eyes to discover that it was one of her favorite blouses—and one of the most feminine ones she owned—she hesitated. It was a soft, gauzy material, with frilly cap
sleeves and a little bit of lace at the neck, and it looked good with anything, including jeans, which she'd intended to wear tonight to Joe's. It was, however, also a date blouse, something that she felt pretty and feminine in and men generally noticed. The question was, did she want Taylor to notice?

When she hesitated, she knew she was in trouble. She had to be losing her mind. He was cold and unfriendly and angry. Why would she want a man like that to notice her? Afraid to go there, she pulled the blouse off the hanger and hurriedly slipped it on. This was ridiculous. It was just a blouse. She wasn't going to beat herself up wondering if she'd made the right choice.

By the time she came downstairs ten minutes later, she was sure she was ready to face Taylor. She'd tied her hair back in a neat ponytail and applied a minimal amount of makeup. She didn't even wear lipstick—lip gloss was all she needed for dinner with friends. Then she found Taylor waiting for her in the parlor.

She took one look at him and felt her mouth go dry. After seeing him last night when he'd managed to look incredibly handsome even dripping wet from a thunderstorm, she'd thought he couldn't possibly find a way to look any better. She'd been wrong. He'd showered and shaved, and sometime over the course of the afternoon, he'd found the time to get his dark hair cut. It was his clothes, however, that created such a change in his appearance. Instead of the expensive business clothes he'd worn last night, he'd changed to khakis and a white polo shirt that, while still of high quality, were much more casual.

He almost looked approachable, she thought. Now if he would just relax and smile.

For a moment, she thought he was going to do just
that. The corner of his mouth twitched as his eyes met hers, and she found herself holding her breath. Then he obviously thought better of it. Lifting a brow at her, he merely said, “Ready?”

Disappointed—and more than a little annoyed with herself for being so—she should have said of course, she wasn't ready! He looked too good, smelled too good, and in the small confines of her car, neither of them would be able to move without the other being aware of it. It was time to call the whole thing off.

But when she opened her mouth, she was horrified to hear herself say, “Just let me lock up.”

It won't be so bad, a voice in her head assured her. It's not that far to Twin Pines and all you have to do is concentrate on the ranch and your driving. You'll be there before you know it, and tomorrow, he'll have a rental car and won't need you to act as his chauffeur anymore. So just grin and bear it.