A Callahan Outlaw's Twins

He cursed under his breath when he realized he’d fallen asleep in Kendall’s bed, against the headboard, her head against his chest, her long blond ponytail trailing to his abdomen.

This was bad. In the military, snipers didn’t allow emotions to get in the way of the job.

His emotions were definitely becoming involved. He had to stop it from happening.

Carefully, he disengaged himself from Kendall, laying her slowly back in her bed. God, she was soft. So feminine. She acted so brave, but what had happened had wounded her, revealing the vulnerability she hid so well.

He went downstairs, knowing he had to make sure—damn sure—his unfortunate lapse didn’t endanger his senses, his assignment, or her.

“Hey.” Jonas filled up a coffee mug, slid it his way. “Let’s talk, cousin.”

Sloan followed him into a large den filled with dark brown leather furniture and a huge TV. Toys were stacked in a playpen in the corner. Clearly, this room was one of the children’s hangouts, no doubt because of its proximity to Fiona’s kitchen. Jonas put a tray stacked with his aunt’s fresh-baked cookies on the coffee table in front of them. Sloan perched on a chair, wanting a direct face-to-face with his cousin.

“We pull out at 0500. Cover of darkness is essential,” Jonas said. “We hope that whoever might be spying on the ranch won’t see us leave.”

“Good idea.”

“We’ll be using a series of vehicles. There’ll be too many of us to follow, if they should see us leave. As the chief said, divide and conquer.”

“Wise strategy.” Sloan nodded.

“Some of us will pass around Diablo, double back here. Rafe has the jet ready. Some of the children and wives will travel on it to Hell’s Colony. The vehicles we plan to leave in town. I’m asking you to get them back here when you can.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll show you the firearms we have on the ranch. The chief knows where everything else is. Money. Whatever.”

Sloan blinked. “We won’t need money.”

“Someone has to run the ranch.”

“Fiona will be here. And Kendall is your employee, right?”

Jonas nodded. “But we all agree we’d feel better with a Callahan heir handling ranch transactions. I don’t mean grocery store bills and things that affect the household—Fiona and Burke have been doing that for years. I’m talking about whatever needs to be done to make certain this ranch is kept secure.”

“I understand.” Jonas wanted them to have whatever they needed to protect the houses, livestock and the wild Diablo mustangs.

“There’s a cache of silver in the basement. It has a specific purpose.” Jonas looked at him. “You can get the rest of the info on that from the chief. That’s just between you and me, cousin.”

Sloan nodded again.

Jonas gave him a hard stare. “I also charge you with convincing Kendall to eventually come to Hell’s Colony. I know she won’t leave the ranch now, but that was the drugs talking. It’s important that she not be here. She could have been taken, or worse. It’s not safe for her.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“If you have to hypnotize her again, do it.”

Sloan shook his head. “She asked me not to. Actually,” he said, “she didn’t ask me. It was more like she commanded me never to do it again.” The memory of her ragging him about it made him smile. She refused to admit that she’d been in shock and pain, and relaxing helped. He admired the fact that she would choose pain over giving up any independence. “I can’t do it. She’s not a willing subject.”

“She’s not a willing subject about anything. Why do I always have stubborn women around me?” Jonas asked. But the question was rhetorical, Sloan knew. Jonas was crazy about Fiona, about his wife, Sabrina, who was rumored to have a very stubborn streak, and even Kendall.

“Strong men draw strong women,” Sloan said.

“Lovely. Just once I’d like to have a ‘Yes, Jonas’ type of female in my life.” He got up to pace, so Sloan reached for a cookie, biting into it with pleasure. The simple pleasure of a home-baked cookie was something he hadn’t had in years. Not since—

“Sloan.”

“Yes.” He straightened, focusing on Jonas again. “I’m listening.”

“Whatever you do, you can’t let Kendall run you around.”

Sloan hesitated. “Meaning?”

“She’s bossy. She thinks she can handle herself. And handle anything. The truth is, she doesn’t really know much about what’s been happening here over the past four years. She doesn’t know much about the family.” Jonas paced some more, his body darkly silhouetted in front of the huge window where the moon shone into the den, touching the furnishings with dim light. “She knows a little, but not enough to convince herself she can’t go about her duties the way she used to. I know Kendall. She’ll decide she imagined the whole thing, that she hurt herself on the jeep. Like maybe a big bird flew over and startled her or something. The next thing you know, she’ll be back out there, making plans for the new bunkhouse.”

Sloan swallowed. “I’ll get her out to Hell’s Colony somehow.” It would be for the best.

He looked at Jonas. “I think I have an answer to your problem.”

“I would love to hear it,” Jonas replied, appearing relieved. “Please share.”

“Fire her,” Sloan said.

Jonas looked stunned. Then he laughed. “That’s perfect.”

Sloan felt bad, but saving Kendall from Kendall was paramount.

“Wish I’d thought of it.” He got up, slapped Sloan on the back. “I’ll leave you to take care of that tomorrow morning, after we’re gone, cousin.”

Jonas walked out. Sloan grimaced, the delicious cookie no longer appealing.

It was going to be a long night. The dream wolf had long been his nocturnal companion, a shadowy fear that kept peace at bay and shredded his sleep.

But he’d rather face the wolf than the woman who was going to be none too happy when he told her that her services were no longer required.

* * *

“WHAT?” Kendall exclaimed in a shriek. She glared at Sloan. “What do you mean, I’m fired?”

Damn Jonas for leaving this mission to him. Sloan leaned against the wall in Kendall’s room and shrugged—although the last thing he felt was calm and uncaring.

“Fired. Out of work.”

Her blue eyes narrowed on him. “You did this.”

He sighed. “I did.”

Kendall threw the nearest thing that could be used as a projectile, which happened to be her hairbrush, since he’d caught her in the middle of trying to fix herself for the day. The brush bounced off the wall, not one inch from his face. “I’ll have you know my services command hundreds of thousands of dollars. If I call up any of the corporations who’ve tried to lure me away from Gil Phillips, Inc., in the past year, I’ll have a position in thirty minutes, and a salary that would make your head swim.”