“She’s only after the Thunderbolt,” said Cole, planting the metal stand with disgust.

But Katie’s attention was all on Sydney. “How long have you known him? Where did you meet?” Her gaze strayed to Sydney’s bare fingers. “Did he propose yet?”

“I proposed to him.”

“She’s after the Thunderbolt,” Cole repeated. “She’s a con artist.”

“I’m a museum curator. I want to display the Thunderbolt. But I really am willing to marry him.”

“She’s-” Cole threw up his hands, turning to pace back to the horse. “Forget it.”

Katie called after him. “Don’t be so hasty, Cole. It sounds like a good offer. And you’re not getting any younger, you know.”

He muttered something unintelligible.

Katie laughed, turning back to Sydney. “From a museum, you say?”

“The Laurent.”

“In New York?”

“Yes.”

Katie’s reaction to the proposition wasn’t nearly as negative as Cole’s. Maybe she would listen to reason. Maybe she would even have some influence over her brother-in-law.

“I was planning to display the Thunderbolt temporarily,” said Sydney, keeping her voice loud enough to be sure Cole would hear. “It would only be a loan.”

“How did you know it went to his wife?” asked Katie.

“Research.”

“And how did you know he wasn’t already married?”

“More research.” Sydney raised her voice again. “I was thinking of something simple and temporary. At the courthouse.”

“A marriage of convenience,” Katie nodded.

“Right.”

“And how would that be convenient for me?” Cole’s hammer came down on a metal horseshoe and the rhythmic clanks echoed through the pasture.

“You could think of it as a public service,” said Sydney.

“I’m not altruistic.”

“You’d bring an important antiquity to the attention of the world.”

“It’s a private possession.”

“It would only be a loan.”

“Why don’t you give up?”

While Sydney formulated a response, Katie spoke up. “Why don’t you come for dinner instead?”

“Katie,” Cole stressed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“We can talk about it, Cole,” said Katie. “No harm in talking about it.”

Sydney felt a surge of hope. She definitely had an ally in Katie.

“You two can do whatever you want,” said Cole, going back to hammering. “But I’m not coming to dinner.”

“Of course you are,” said Katie.

“Nope.”

“I’ll send Kyle after you.”

“Good luck with that.”

Katie put her hands on her hips and arched one eyebrow.


“You really need to do something about your wife,” said Cole as he leaned on the rail next to the barbecue where his brother was grilling steaks.

Kyle closed the cast-iron lid and joined Cole. “It’s not my fault you can’t say no to her.”

“Can you say no to her?”

“Why would I want to say no to her?”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”

Cole folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t you ever need to just put your foot down and lay out the logic?”

Kyle laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

“How can a man live with somebody orchestrating his every move?”

“Are we talking about Katie or Sydney?”

“Katie’s helping Sydney. And we’re talking about women in general.”

“And your fear of them.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Then why are you freaking out over Sydney’s idea?”

Cole peered at his brother, squinting in the dying light of the sunset. “Are you seriously suggesting I marry a stranger and give her the Thunderbolt?”

“She’s from a museum, not some crime family. I’m only suggesting you hear her out.”

Katie appeared in the doorway, a big wooden salad bowl clasped in her hands. “Hear who out?”

“Sydney,” said Kyle.

“Oh, good,” said Katie. “We’re just in time.”

Sydney appeared behind her with a basket of rolls, and Cole did an involuntary double take. She’d removed her jacket and her silk, butter-yellow blouse highlighted the halo of her rich, auburn hair. Her rounded breasts pressed against the thin fabric, and a small flash of her stomach peeked out between the hem of her blouse and the waistband of her skirt.

“Can you open the wine?” Katie asked Cole.

“Uh, sure,” said Cole, with a mental shake, telling himself to quit acting like a teenager. He reached for the corkscrew.

“I was the high bid on Night-Dreams,” he said to his brother, not so subtly changing the direction of the conversation.

Kyle shot him a knowing grin but played along. “Planning to use Sylvester as a sire?”

Cole popped the cork on the bottle of merlot. “Come next spring, it’s the start of a whole new bloodline.”

After Sydney set the rolls down on the table, Cole automatically pulled out her chair. She accepted with a smile of thanks, and the scent of her perfume wafted under his nose.

“That reminds me,” said Kyle from the other side of the table. “I need your signature on a contract with Everwood.” He transferred the sizzling steaks from the grill to a wooden platter. “Gave me my price. He’ll take all the beef we can supply.”

Cole masked a spurt of frustration by focusing on the wine-pouring. He hated that Kyle had to run to him for every little signature. His brother was an incredibly talented cattleman, and the tradition that put the ranch solely in the name of the eldest son was archaic and unfair.

“Way to go,” he said to Kyle, setting out the glasses. “You always were the brains of the outfit.”

Kyle scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Cole pulled out his own chair and held up his glass in a toast to his brother’s advantageous deal. “I’m dead serious about that.”

“Are we going to talk shop all night?” asked Katie, sitting down.

Simultaneously, Cole said yes while Kyle said no. They both sat down.

Sydney leaned forward. “Maybe we could talk about my shop.”

“I’m deeding you half the ranch,” Cole said to Kyle, without so much as glancing in Sydney’s direction.

Those words had the effect he was looking for. The air went flat-dead silent. The barbecue hissed once, and a sparrow chirped from the poplar trees.

“I talked to a tax lawyer in Dallas last week,” Cole continued, reaching for a roll. “About our options.”

“Cole,” Kyle cautioned.

“I figure we can subdivide along Spruce Ridge, then follow the creek bed to the road.”

Kyle planted the butt of his steak knife on the wooden table. “Stop.”

“I’m going to do it,” said Cole.

“Oh, no, you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Boys,” Katie interrupted.

“Oh, yes, I can,” said Kyle. “I won’t accept.”

“It’s not up to you.” Cole took a breath. The guilt on this one had been burning inside him for a long time. He wasn’t about to back off. “Sometimes a man has to put his foot down and make decisions that are in the best interest of his family.”

“Was that a slam?” asked Kyle.

“No.”

“It sounded like a slam.”

Cole dropped the roll to his plate, regretting his choice of words. “I didn’t mean that. I meant, a man needs his own land.”

“Kyle?” Katie tried again. “Cole?”

“You saying all these years I haven’t had my own land.”

That threw Cole. “Of course not.”

“There you go.”

“What about your kids?”

Kyle clenched his jaw but remained silent.

Cole hoped that meant his brother was running low on arguments. “You need to build a legacy for your kids.” He rushed on. “You need to leave them something. If you won’t think of yourself, think about your children.”

Sydney’s hand touched Cole’s thigh. His muscle immediately convulsed and he shot her a stunned look.

“Let’s move on,” said Kyle, a steely thread to his voice.

Cole looked back at his brother. “Let’s agree to go to Dallas and talk to the lawyers.”

Sydney’s fingernails tightened, jolting Cole’s nervous system.

What the hell was she doing?

“It’s not just you anymore,” Cole said to Kyle. “You have a family-”

Sydney pinched him. It actually hurt.

He swung his gaze back to her, but caught Katie’s expression on the way.

He stopped.

He stared at his sister-in-law’s white lips. “Katie?”

Kyle pulled back his chair as Katie started to tremble.

Katie stood and Kyle rose with her.

“What?” Cole jumped up. “What’s wrong?”

Katie gave a little shake of her head and waved away their concern. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” said Cole.

She placed her hand on Kyle’s arm. “I’m really okay. I’m just going to get a glass of water.”

Kyle put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. “You sure?” he whispered.

She nodded. “Really. The less fuss, the better. I’ll be right back.”

Kyle watched her disappear into the kitchen.

Cole raked a hand through his hair, trying to sift through the turn of events. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What the heck…”

“Can I help?” Sydney asked Kyle.

Kyle closed his eyed and dropped back into his chair. He shook his head. “It’s the talk of kids.”

Cole slowly sat, opening his mouth to ask for an explanation, but Sydney’s fingers closed on his thigh again.

He felt like a bull in a china shop. What was he missing here?

“She hoped to be pregnant by now,” said Kyle.

Cole went cold.

Sydney tossed her napkin onto the table. “I am going to make sure she’s okay.”

Both men rose with her.

After Sydney disappeared, Kyle moved restlessly to the rail, taking a long, steady swig of his wine.

Cole followed, not sure of what to say. He and Kyle didn’t exactly have heart-to-heart talks about their sex lives, never mind their sperm counts. Was this a medical problem? Did they need to see a doctor?

“Are you…” he began. “Uh, do you…”

“The doctor thinks it’s stress,” said Kyle. “But we don’t know anything for sure, and Katie’s worried she’ll never have kids.”