Thunderstruck

Cade had his load to carry. Abandoned by his abusive father, he’d lost his mother to cancer. By then his mom had changed all their records from Marlowe to her maiden name of Gallagher. Cade had assumed her family had turned their back on her, but really she’d been too ashamed of her situation to notify her family of her illness. Now Cade had suddenly been thrust into two extended families, which could be good once he got over the awkward parts.

Damon had no illusions that he was connected to any reputable families. He’d run away at twelve and had concocted an elaborate story that had landed him a temporary home with the family of a kid he’d known at school. By the time CPS had been called in, his parents had left town without a trace, probably relieved that he was gone.

In his recurring nightmare, he was a kid barely existing in the pigsty of whatever cheap housing his parents had found. While they were passed out drunk, he searched the cupboards for something to eat, and nothing was ever there. He woke up shaking and sweating.

When he’d lived in the cabin with Cade and Finn, they used to tell him jokes until he’d settled down. And they’d always kept snacks around for those times, too, because he’d wake up starving even if he’d had a good dinner that night.

To calm himself these days, he got up and walked around whatever house he was renovating. He kept his surroundings neat. He put away his tools, swept up sawdust and closed paint cans at the end of every day. He always had food in the cupboard, too.

Eventually, Cade broke the silence. “Did you ever go to that shrink Rosie recommended, the one the county would pay for?”

“Once. She was okay, but I got more mileage out of mucking out stalls. Did you go?” As close as they were, it was the kind of thing they would have kept to themselves.

“Yeah, five years ago after Lexi and I had our big fight about getting married. Nice lady, and she gave it to me straight. She said marriage would probably be a mistake until I had a better handle on who I was and what I wanted out of life. She was right.”

“I’m sure she was, but at the time I was royally pissed at you for running out on Lexi. Poor girl was a basket case.”

“And now she says I did her a favor.”

Damon chuckled. “The woman has attitude. Is she coming to dinner tonight?”

“Yep.”

“Good. And Rosie told me she’d invited Phil so we can meet each other before we start work in the morning.”

“Yep.”

“What’s your take on Phil?”

“Um...” Cade paused to clear his throat. “I’d rather not say.”

Damon stared at him. “What do you mean, you’d rather not say? Don’t you like him?”

“Look, I can’t talk to you about Phil without breaking a solemn promise to Lexi, and I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why in God’s name would you make such a promise?”

“Can we change the subject?”

“Is he an escaped felon?”

“No.”

“Undocumented alien?”

“No. Did you notice the wildflowers along the road? They’re spectacular this summer. I don’t think I’ve ever seen—”

“Screw the effing wildflowers! Is he gay? I’ll bet that’s it, and if you all think I’m too prejudiced to work with a gay man, you’d be dead wrong. That’s not an issue with me, so—”

“Phil’s not gay.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

“If there’s no problem, why are you dancing all around the subject?”

Cade sighed. “I knew I should’ve had Lexi pick you up.”

“If you’d sent Lexi to fetch me, I would have known for sure something was fishy.”

“Yeah, but Lexi’s better at handling things like this than I am.”

Damon rolled his eyes. This was going to drive him crazy. “I have half a mind to invoke the Brotherhood oath.”

“Please don’t. Then I’m caught between betraying the oath and betraying Lexi. My head will explode.”

“I just bet it would, too, honest as you are. Which is why I won’t do that to you.”

“Damon, it’s nothing bad.”

“It better not be.”

“We’re almost there. In about two minutes this discussion will be irrelevant. Admire the wildflowers until we get there.”

Scowling, Damon glanced out the window. He had to admit that the purple, yellow and occasional splashes of red along the road made a pretty picture this time of year. But what was the deal with Phil?

Cade pulled into the circular drive in front of the rambling house where Damon had spent the happiest years of his life. Fourth of July bunting hung from the porch railing as it did every year. This place gave him such a lift that he couldn’t imagine not being able to come back here. The Kickstarter project just had to work.

Rosie and Herb must have been watching for the truck, because they came out on the porch to greet him. Leaving his duffel, he jumped out, pulled off his sunglasses and jogged up the steps to give each of them a big hug. Damn, but it was good to be home. He’d been at the ranch three weeks ago, but it seemed longer.

“Oh, and Phil’s here,” Rosie said.

“Great!” At last he’d solve the mystery. Tucking his glasses in the vee of his shirt, he looked past Rosie to the person standing in the open doorway. That sure wasn’t Phil, so the guy must have stayed inside.

She was tall, maybe five-nine, and slim. Her shoulder-length red hair made him think of polished cherrywood, and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks added a wholesome touch. In contrast, her full mouth would tempt a priest to forget his vows.

But her eyes were the most striking thing about her. They were the saturated blue of a Wyoming sky on a hot summer day. A shirt in the same shade had been a good choice on her part. He had to drag his gaze from hers. She was just that mesmerizing. She might be Phil’s girl, though, so he’d have to be careful.

Her jeans and boots were the type everybody wore around here, but on her they looked especially nice. If this was Phil’s girlfriend, Damon was impressed. The guy had excellent taste.

But when she walked forward, hand outstretched and mischief dancing in those blue eyes, he suddenly knew he’d been had.

“It’s good to meet you, Damon.” Her voice trembled slightly as if she might be holding back laughter. “I’m Philomena Turner.”

2 (#u6998fab3-bb41-5d03-b5cb-3ee8bfbcd3a2)

PHIL UNDERSTOOD RIGHT away why Rosie had said Damon had his pick of women. His expression when he’d caught sight of her had been filled with enough warm masculine appreciation to coax a response from her normally unflappable libido. All the years she’d spent hanging out with construction guys should have made her immune to such glances. Instead, her hormones were dancing a spirited two-step.