Promise Broken (The Callahan Series) (2 page)

Donovan waved him away.

The bastard’s death didn’t diminish the anger that simmered hotter than ever. There would be no satisfying resolution of confronting the man—of punching him.

Donovan ordered another beer.

Then another.

Was it any wonder he was so different than his half-siblings? Besides the physical looks, he didn’t have their ease of talking to strangers, didn’t communicate as well. Look at their professions; Douglas a lawyer, Darin a detective, Dugan a sheriff. Donovan could never be comfortable doing what any of them did. Then there was TJ. His sister excelled at her and Max’s company where she talked to strangers every day.

He took another sip from the bottle, then shook his head. Now he knew why he was so different. Hurt ballooned inside him.

He didn’t know, and no longer cared, how long he sat there or how many bottles he put down.

“Donovan?”

Startled, he sat up straighter. He’d know that voice anywhere. In the dim light, he saw his sister, TJ. Dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and boots, she looked the same. Only her eyes were full of misery.

“Donovan,” she cried as she ran to him, and put her arms around his stiff shoulders in a big hug.

For a brief moment Donovan savored her embrace. “What are you doing here? And how did you find me?” But deep down he knew. TJ and Max had used their business connections and found Hector. That’s why the PI was in such a hurry to leave.

“It wasn’t easy.” She turned, looked behind her. “We’re all here, Don.”

Then he saw them. His brothers. No, his half-brothers with their red hair and green eyes. Donovan swallowed hard. All Callahans. Darin had his cop face on. Dugan, a half-grin. Douglas glared—TJ teary. So like them.

They crowded around the small table, pulled up chairs and sat down.

Regret mingled with anger. “Did y’all know? Lie to me all these years?”

TJ shook her head. “We had no idea. We made Mom tell us. We knew you wouldn’t leave without a reason.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“To bring you home,” Dugan said.

“I have no home. Go back to your lives and leave me alone.”

“Callahans stick together, Don,” Douglas reminded him.

“I’m not a Callahan.” Saying it aloud opened a wound so raw it was bleeding.

“You’re our brother, and you’re a Callahan in every way that matters. You’re coming home,” Dugan said.

“If I refuse?”

The brothers looked at each other. “I’ll arrest you,” Dugan said without a trace of his usual levity.

“Neither you nor Darin have jurisdiction,” Donovan reminded them stiffly.

“Darin’s a big city cop. He has to follow rules. I’m just a county sheriff,” Dugan said, tongue in cheek. “ I can handcuff your ass and claim ignorance later. One way or another I’ll haul you back to Rainhart County where you belong.”

“I don’t know where I belong.”

“You belong on the ranch. It’s your home,” TJ reminded him. “Mom needs you.” TJ looked deep into his eyes. “We need you.”

For a moment, he was silent. The ranch had been home since he was born. It was where he’d expected to live out his life. Now he knew it was never his to begin with.

“You’re being a jerk,” Dugan said. “You’re as much a part of this family as any one of us.”

“Easy for y’all to say. You’re not the bastard.”

“Neither are you. Maybe a jackass…” Darin put in.

“Nothing’s changed,” Douglas added.

“Is that the lawyer talking?”

“No, dammit. It’s your brother. Mom needs you at home, not here drowning yourself in booze.”

He looked at their faces; back down at the line of empty bottles. They didn’t know that today was the first day he’d broken his two-beer limit.

They would have had to hire someone to run the ranch since none of them were interested. Was that their reason for wanting him back?

“Even if I wanted to, it would never be the same. I can’t go back.”

“Who says it has to be the same?” Darin piped up. “Every day brings something new and different. The ranch is part of you. That hasn’t changed.” He paused. “Besides, sometimes different can be better.”

“Says you! Do you have any idea how I worshiped the man I thought was my dad? How I wanted to be like him? What a joke.”

The brothers looked at him in astonishment. “You’re kidding! You’re a Callahan, always have been—always will be. How could you not know that?”

“Douglas is right, Don,” TJ said.

He turned on her. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a kid to take care of?”

“Your godchild. Are you going to walk out on him, too?”

“You look like hell,” Douglas said. “Have you shaved since you left home?”

“Haven’t done much of anything except try to find the asshole who hurt Mom. Anyway, what do you care? I’m not your responsibility.”

TJ put her hands on her hips. “Oh, really? Since when? I thought Callahans took up for one another—helped one another. Didn’t you guys come after me when you thought I was in trouble?”

“That was different.”

The men pushed back from the table, stood. “Let’s go, Donovan,” Dugan said. “This has gone on long enough. Mom needs you.”

“Mom has you guys. She doesn’t need me there reminding her how I came to be.”

“Then why did she take to her bed when you left? Why did she go into a depression she can’t seem to pull herself out of? Why does she cry every day for her first-born?” Dugan slammed a hand on the table. “I can’t take it anymore, Donovan. You’re killing our mother and none of us will stand for it.”

“So that’s why you’re really here? Mom’s sick and I’m the cure?” Donovan hated the cruelty of his words.

Mom was a loving and caring mother to them all. He’d never felt the least bit of discrimination between the way she treated her children.

“You’re being stubborn,” TJ said. “Part of why we’re here is because of Mom. The other part is you’re our brother. We love you. Isn’t that enough?”

“We’re not giving you an option,” Douglas said. “You’re going home.”

“You have no idea how I feel. If you did, you wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re probably right,” TJ said. “We don’t know how you feel. It was a shock to us, so I can only imagine how it hit you.”

“Just say it. My father raped our mother. I’m the result. How can you want me in your lives?”

He wanted to fight, just not his brothers and sister. The man he wanted to hit was already dead.

TJ took his arm, walked him to the door. Douglas threw a fifty on the table before following. When they stepped outside, Donovan raised his face to the sun. It felt good, but the warmth didn’t penetrate. On the inside he was cold as ice.

“We love you, Don. All of us. Nothing’s the same without you. I can’t live my life without you in it.”

Douglas cleared his throat. “None of us can. I know it’ll be hard at first, but will you go back and give it a try?”

“Our world is as off-kilter as yours,” Darin added. “We need you.”

“That’s enough melodrama,” Dugan said. “Where are your things? We’ll pick them up and head home.”

“What things? All I had was my truck.”

They stared at him. “Sold it,” he mumbled. “I don’t have a thing.”

Dugan shook his head. “My pickup is around the corner.”

They weren’t giving him a choice. “I need a minute with Douglas. Alone.”

Donovan and Douglas walked side by side a few feet from the others. “What do you need?” Douglas asked.

“I want you to check something for me. I found out a couple of hours ago that Carl Perkins died in a knife fight two weeks after he came here.”

Douglas’s brow lifted.

“I want you to make sure it was him.”

“Was that before or after you got to San Antonio?”

“You would ask that, wouldn’t you?”

Douglas grinned. “I’m a lawyer. I want all the facts. Not just those you choose to give me.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know the date. You can check that out too.”

“That all you need?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

They walked back to the others. TJ threw her arms around his neck and held tight. “Don’t do this again, Don. I can’t take it.”

Darin and Douglas grabbed him in a bear hug before they piled into Douglas’s SUV for the drive back to Houston. In the back seat, TJ wiped her tears and waved.

Donovan crawled into Dugan’s pickup and watched them go. Then, leaning back in the seat, let his younger brother take over. He was going back to the ranch whether he wanted to or not.

He twitched in his seat, uncomfortable at the thought.

It was true; Mom couldn’t run the ranch by herself. How ironic that he was the only one of the five who loved ranching. But wouldn’t he feel like a hired hand now?

He’d see how things went. He wouldn’t have his mom sick on his account. Once he was sure she was all right, he’d be free to stay or to leave.

An hour later, they pulled through the familiar gate. Donovan’s heartbeat accelerated. Everything looked the same. The hay rings were filled to the brim. Cattle munched in contentment.

Dugan, who had been exceptionally quiet, cleared his throat. Donovan glanced at him, saw his brother’s hands clench on the steering wheel, a strange look on his face.

“What’s up?” Donovan asked.

Another throat clearing. “Mom hired someone while you were gone. Name’s Phil.”

“Figured she’d have to.”

“I’ll drop you off and get back to work. Tell Mom I’ll be back for dinner.”

Dugan stopped the pickup in the front yard. The house looked the same. Comfortable. Sturdy. His heart lurched at the sight. “You sure you don’t want to come in?”

“Nope. This is your deal.”

As soon as Donovan stepped out, Dugan backed up and high-tailed it down the lane to the road.

Donovan walked inside. It was quiet, almost too quiet. “Mom,” he called out.

No answer. He thundered upstairs, knocked on the door to her room. When she didn’t answer, he looked in. She wasn’t there.

She wasn’t anywhere in the house.

He raced out the back door. Stopped when he saw her. Relief poured through him at the familiar picture. In jeans and shirt, her slim figure straight and strong, she was watching a young boy sitting on TJ’s horse, Lily. A woman in jeans and baseball cap, blond hair pulled through the back opening, held Lily’s reins as she led horse and rider around the corral.

Who was she? Who was the kid? He couldn’t be a day over six.

His mother’s laughter floated toward him.

Sick, huh? Sure didn’t look like it.

He’d been suckered.

The kid shrieked his excitement while the woman’s soft voice encouraged and coaxed.

“You’re doing good, Mark,” Donovan’s mother sang out.

“Let me go by myself,” the kid begged.

“Are you sure?” the woman asked.

“I’m sure.”

Donovan recognized her reluctance as she handed the reins to the kid, gave him instructions and stepped back.

The kid took the reins in both hands, sat up straighter and leaned forward. Lily didn’t move.

His mother laughed; the familiar sound made his breath hitch.

The woman went to the kid, told him something. He nodded, gave Lily a light jab with his sneaker-clad foot. Lily moved forward. The kid leaned over and patted her neck. Then he made a couple of circles around the corral to the cheers of both his mother and the woman.

Donovan remembered the first time he was placed in a saddle—remembered his dad’s instructions. Donovan had been so proud when he could make that horse walk, turn right, left, then stop. It had been a powerful feeling of accomplishment, and he wondered if the kid felt the same.

So, who was the kid? And the woman?

He’d never seen them before, and the town was small enough to know everyone.

Had strangers weaseled their way onto the ranch while he was gone—taken advantage of his mother’s good nature? She was a pushover for a sob story. With him gone and no one to watch over her—

That didn’t make sense. Dugan was a regular at the ranch. He had two, sometimes three meals a week here. He’d know what was going on and put a halt to anything that looked even remotely suspicious.

Donovan looked around for the hired man, Phil, but didn’t see him. Maybe they were Phil’s family.

His mother turned, saw him. For a moment, she just stared. Then she ran toward him.

“You’re home,” she said, taking him in her arms.

His throat closed as his arms went around her waist.

She touched his face, rubbed a hand over his beard. “You look different.”

“I am different.”

She looked up at him; her green eyes shining with unshed tears. “Under those whiskers is my son, Donovan Callahan, and he hasn’t changed.” She kissed him again. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Everything looks good. The cows look fed and healthy. You look fine. I was told you were sick. Why did you want me back?”

She took his arm, pulled him close. “I was sick the minute you heard something I never intended you to know. Sick at heart. Sick that you were hurt. Sick that you could ever think you weren’t a part of this family.”

He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

“Don’t you understand?”

He shook his head. “All I know is that you were raped and I’m the result. I don’t know how you could possibly care about me or why you don’t hate me. How could Duncan Callahan claim me as his son? Did he know? He did, didn’t he?”

She nodded, touched his cheek again as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Duncan Callahan was your father in every way that mattered and he
wanted
to be your father. Never question that. The rest we’ll talk about later. Now I want to know where you’ve been, and if you found what you went after.”

Chapter Two

The tall stranger had Phyl Leander’s heart almost leaving her chest. Who was he? Had they found her?

Quickly, she lifted Mark off Lily’s back, and sent him to the barn. Her mind racing, she followed with Lily in tow.

“I did good, didn’t I?” Mark asked, as his mother took the saddle, threw it on a sawhorse, handed Mark a brush, and motioned for him to brush Lily.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t come out of the barn until I call you,” she ordered.