Twins For The Texan

“Oh, I don’t think so. But thanks.”

“What are you gonna do? Stay alone here all day?”

Zane and his new wife, Jessica, had graciously offered for the three of them to stay as his houseguests in the glorious new home Adam Chase had designed as a wedding present, while Dylan shot a Western movie here. Zane had been a neighbor for a time back in Moonlight Beach, California, and Dylan, Zane and Adam were all good friends now. But newlyweds Zane and Jessica were inseparable, and a few days back, they’d left on Zane’s spectacular tour bus, heading toward New Orleans to do a round of country music concerts.

Now Dylan, Emma and Brooke had the house all to themselves for the next few weeks.

Emma barged into the room, her growing belly covered by a breezy floral handkerchief dress. “No, she’s not spending the day alone. She’s going to help me pick out baby girl clothes!”

Brooke forgot about her own problems and jumped up. “You’re having a girl?”

Emma nodded, her laughter infectious. She lifted the pointed hem of her dress with both hands, and danced around the room singing, “Yes, yes, we’re having a baby girl.”

Brooke caught her midstride and hugged her tight. “Oh, this is wonderful. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter, but now we know!”

She peered over Emma’s shoulder at her brother. His eyes were gleaming with love for his wife and new child. One would never know the child Emma carried wasn’t his. But he loved both mother and child with all of his heart. And that’s all that mattered.

Brooke stepped away from Emma and with arms reaching up, walked over to Dylan to give him a giant warm hug. Her big brother was happier than she’d ever seen him. “Congratulations.”

Dylan kissed her forehead. “Thanks. We’re excited.”

“You’re going to be outnumbered, you know, with all these women around.”

“He’s used to it,” Emma said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“That’s right, the big mega movie star has women falling at his feet,” Brooke said.

“Not anymore. They know I’m taken.” Dylan went to Emma and took her hand. She smiled and then both of them looked Brooke’s way. “So, you’ll drop by the set with Emma later?” he asked.

“Sure, we’ll come by and see you.”

She couldn’t burst his bubble. She’d been a downer lately, and hadn’t been able to concentrate on having a good time. They sensed something was up with her, but hadn’t pried. Not yet, anyway. She didn’t want to raise any more suspicion. She was having enough trouble accepting the fact that Emma wouldn’t be the only new mother around here. And she had no clue of how or when to tell Wyatt Brandt he was going to be a father.

* * *

Wyatt sat upon a black gelding with white socks named Oreo and faced the rushing waters of the Willow Springs River. Twenty miles north of Beckon and even farther from his ranch, he was doing Johnny a favor today by coming here. Aside from Johnny Wilde, no one else in the area had as much commonsense knowledge about horseflesh and cattle as Wyatt did. Not that he’d wanted this job. Hell, he was no consultant, but his friend had called him in a panic. Johnny had come down with the flu, hopefully just the twenty-four-hour kind, and he’d needed a replacement, pronto. “You’re the only one I trust to do the job,” he’d said.

It wasn’t the plea, but the weakness in Johnny’s voice that had Wyatt agreeing to haul his butt away from Blue Horizon Ranch and his kids today.

He glanced at the men milling around, decked out in fringed leather chaps, Stetsons and snakeskin boots. Actors.

Dressing room trailers—honey wagons, Johnny had called them—were set up in the outlying area and a crew of about fifty were pulling wires, setting up cameras and shouting orders. He’d already spoken with the director today about the scene they were to shoot along the river’s edge. The horses and cattle would be crossing in shallow waters, but it was a key concern that no animals or actors be hurt in the highly technical shot.

From a distance, he spotted the star of the movie, Dylan McKay, stepping out of his trailer decked out in a chambray shirt, jeans and a red paisley kerchief around his neck. And then Wyatt froze. He blinked and refocused.

Yep, he wasn’t imagining it. Dylan was with a woman.

It was her.

Brooke Johnson.

What was she doing here? She looked awfully chummy with Dylan, laughing at something he’d said and walking along with him as though she was accustomed to being close to the mega superstar.

Seeing her again sent blazing fireworks off in Wyatt’s head. “Uh, Tony?” He took his eyes off Brooke for a second to get the assistant wrangler’s attention. “Do you know who that woman is walking with Dylan McKay?” He pointed. “Is her name Brooke Johnson?”

The wrangler scrubbed his jaw, his eyes narrowing a bit to gain a good look. “It’s Brooke all right. All the single guys on the crew have been eyeing her. But her name’s not Johnson. That’s Mr. McKay’s sister, Brooke McKay.”

“She’s Dylan McKay’s sister?”

“Yep, that’s what they tell me. She’s a looker, but she’s not the friendly type, if you know what I mean.”

No, he didn’t know what Tony meant. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. The woman he’d met on the road had been friendly and fun and sassy. He’d never describe Brooke as unfriendly. But then, he hadn’t known the real Brooke, had he? She’d given him a fake name. Now that wasn’t cool.

And just like that, Brooke turned her head and met his gaze. She halted abruptly, her face going as white as newly plowed snow. Dylan kept walking, but Brooke stood there, some twenty feet away, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe it. As if she wanted to hide under a rock.

God, when had his effect on women taken a turn for the worse?

She said something to her brother, and then did a one-eighty and hightailed it back to the trailer. Before stepping inside she glanced in Wyatt’s direction. To see if he was watching? Their eyes met again and for all he was worth, he couldn’t, wouldn’t stop looking at her. Then she was gone, the trailer door slamming shut behind her.

“Crap,” he muttered, climbing down from his horse. He planted his feet on solid ground and held the reins in his hand, trying to decide what to do. He’d worked hard to put Brooke out of his mind, and now here she was infiltrating, invading and trying her best to take up space again.

He was so busy being in his own head, he didn’t notice Dylan McKay until he was standing right in front of him. “Hello, I’m Dylan. I understand you’re taking over for Johnny Wilde today?”

“Yes,” Wyatt said, distracted. He got it together enough to refocus and pay the star some attention. “Wyatt Brandt.”

Dylan put out his hand. “Nice meeting you.”

“Same here.”

They shook hands. “I understand you think the river’s too fast to do the crossing scene today?”

“That’s right. I told the director we should wait. I know the area, and that current is only going to get stronger as the day progresses. It’s not safe for the animals. Clouds are starting to gather and those breezes are gonna turn ugly in a few hours. The winds will only complicate things. Sorry, I know it’s not the news you hoped to hear.”

“No need to apologize. We can shoot around it. Keeping the animals and crew safe is a priority. I just wanted to hear it from you.”

“Sure thing.”

“So, you’re from around here?”

“I’ve lived in Texas all my life. I own Blue Horizon Ranch some twenty-five miles from here.”

“Horses?”

“Cattle, but we have a string of Arabians and cutting horses on the ranch, too.”

They spoke about horses and Texas for a while, and Wyatt came away thinking that Dylan McKay wasn’t a stereotypical prima donna celebrity. It was on the tip of his tongue during the conversation to ask him about Brooke. But that didn’t happen. Dylan had been called away. Just as well. Wyatt had come to the conclusion that he needed to speak to Brooke himself.

Sure, she’d lied to him about who she was.