Cowboy Protector Page 5

  Despite the fact that he’d been her support system for the past few hours, Annabeth couldn’t help giving him a suspicious expression. But his eyes were just eyes now, no trace of the wolf she had seen earlier. His rugged features actually looked kind of ordinary. And he was chewing on that full lower lip as he awaited her answer.

  At the moment, Neil Farrell seemed pretty harmless.

  “Define ‘spend time.’”

  “It’s a family obligation. A birthday party. And I’ll be the only one there without a date.”

  Date?

  Annabeth shook her head. “I—I don’t know—”

  “You would really be doing me a big favor,” Neil said. “Pretty please?”

  “Well…”

  As long as he put it that way, she was hard-pressed to refuse. Besides, the last thing in the world she wanted to do was to go back to an empty apartment so that she could dwell on her latest scare.

  “All right,” she finally said. “I guess spending a few more hours with you, pretending to be your date, wouldn’t hurt anything.”

  Chapter Four

  “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Ne-e-il, happy birthday to you…”

  Annabeth stood at the back of the McKenna horde singing to the birthday boy. Had to go to a birthday party. No date. True and true. Neil had just left out one small detail—that this was his birthday celebration.

  “Happy thirty-third!” cried the cousin who went by the odd name of Skelly.

  For some reason the horde turned toward her, faces lit expectantly. Feeling color rise to her cheeks, Annabeth just wanted to go hide somewhere.

  “All right, leave my friend alone,” Neil groused, flashing a look loaded with guilt at Annabeth, “or you won’t get any birthday cake.”

  Grumbling, the family members relaxed and surrounded Neil, who was staring down at thirty-three lit candles.

  “Make a wish, boyo,” came a lilted command from the mahogany-haired Keelin. “’Tis bound to come true on this of all birthdays.”

  “Superstition,” Neil joked, his gaze locking with Annabeth’s.

  For a moment something odd passed through his wolf eyes, making Annabeth wonder if she was the only one in the room who’d noticed. A thrill shot through her down to her toes. Then Neil lowered his head and blew.

  And blew…and blew…and blew until every single candle was out.

  A roar of approval rent the air and the adults began talking all at once. Three generations of family, Annabeth thought enviously. Skelly and his wife, Roz, and their redheaded toddler triplets—Bridget, Brendan and Briana. Also Skelly’s brother, Donovan, and his very pregnant wife, Laurel, his sister, Aileen, and their father, Raymond. And then cousin Keelin, her husband, Tyler, and their toddler, Kelly, and his teenage daughter, Cheryl. And finally there was Keelin’s brother, Curran, and his new wife, Jane, who’d driven up from Kentucky for their honeymoon.

  Keeping all the McKennas and spouses and offspring straight was making her head spin, Annabeth thought.

  And making her feel somewhat like an intruder.

  With all eyes on the cake being cut with vigor, if not precision, by a laughing Neil, she took the opportunity to slip out of the room and wander into the back patio where she lowered herself onto one of the padded lounge chairs.

  Neil had said Skelly and Roz were looking for a bigger place now that the triplets were running around. The city town house was a little too confining for three rapidly growing children and all their toys. They wanted one of those old Victorians with lots of rooms and a big yard.

  Annabeth admitted that sounded like a nice dream. But the town house was nice, too, as was the walled garden, lush with vegetation that reminded her of her real home. The rich scent of flowers permeated the air. Annabeth remembered her mother tending such a garden replete with climbing roses and a nook with a bench for reading or hiding or whiling away a few hours.

  Sighing, Annabeth lay back and enjoyed the moment. A few feet away, tucked into a corner of the small city space, a fountain trickled. Mesmerized by the soothing sound of splashing water that blocked out city and people noise, she closed her eyes, just for a moment.

  But the siren call of sleep whispered her name…

  “Annabeth?”

  She sat with a start to see a silhouette before her. She blinked and brought a woman bearing a cane into focus. “Oh, Jane, did I actually fall asleep?”

  “You did seem to be in a different world.” Jane offered her a piece of birthday cake. “Maybe the sugar in this will energize you, at least for a little while.”

  Annabeth swung her feet to the ground and took the cake. With a slight limp, Jane moved to the lounge chair opposite and, finding it with her hand first, carefully lowered herself, set the cane across the cushion behind her, then arranged her long skirts carefully around her legs.

  Annabeth got that Jane was sensitive about her limp, but it was hardly noticeable, especially so because she had an elegance about her that drew attention away from anything negative. Her golden-streaked brown hair was crushed into soft curls at her neckline, which was just low enough to hint at a bit of cleavage.

  In comparison, Jane Grantham McKenna made Annabeth feel ungainly and unfashionable, even though Neil had taken her home before coming here so that she could change out of her jeans and T-shirt and into a nice pair of cream trousers and a tangerine-colored silk blouse.

  “So, you and Neil were held hostage together,” Jane said. “Interesting.”

  About to take a bite of the birthday cake, Annabeth halted her fork in midair. “You sound amused.”

  “Not by the situation itself, just by the implications.”

  “What implications?”

  “Neil hasn’t told you about The McKenna Legacy?”

  “No.” She went ahead and took the bite of cake. “We really don’t know each other.”

  “Don’t worry, you will.”

  Annabeth nearly choked while swallowing. “We were merely thrown together by circumstances.”

  “Dangerous circumstances.”

  “Right.”

  “That’s how it always starts,” Jane said knowingly.

  “How what starts?”

  “Moira McKenna’s legacy to her grandchildren. I’m sure Neil will get around to telling you about it.” Before Annabeth could demand further explanation from her, Jane smoothly switched topics. “The McKennas can be an intimidating group when taken all at once. But individually we’re pretty likable, at least most of the time. We. That sounds odd,” she murmured dreamily. “Curran and I are a ‘we’ already.”

  “Of course, you’re married.”

  “But we haven’t known each other very long. Barely three months, actually.”

  Annabeth didn’t comment, but she thought rushing something so important as a lifetime commitment was a little foolish. “Congratulations,” she said instead, trying to be more open-minded about it. “I guess it must have been love at first sight.”

  Jane laughed. “Hardly. We were brought together by a crazed Thoroughbred. I was put out by Curran and he was challenged by me. Not smooth sailing at the start. But all that changed. We went through so much together in a matter of a few days that it probably totaled what other couples might experience emotionally given months.”

  Was Jane trying to tell her something? Annabeth wondered, not feeling comfortable enough to ask for an explanation. No matter the events, however, she couldn’t fancy falling in love so quickly. No way could you really get to know a person in a few weeks.

  “So what sights are you and Curran planning on seeing while you’re in Chicago?”

  “Sights aren’t important,” Jane said. “People are. Family. We came to see Curran’s sister and cousins.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “And for me to see a specialist at Northwestern Hospital.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope.”

  “Something very serious.” But Jane was smiling. “It seems that I’m an excellent c
andidate for cartilage regrowth. They’ll take some of my healthy cartilage, grow it in petri dishes and then put the new growth back in my knee.” She patted her left leg. “If all goes as the surgeon predicts, my knee will be as good as new before Curran’s and my first anniversary.”

  “That is good news.”

  “Then we can start working on a family of our own.”

  A family of her own…

  Annabeth’s mood dimmed a bit, but she managed to say with all sincerity, “I’m sure everything will work out for you exactly as you hope.”

  “Things will work out for you, as well,” Jane predicted. “If you open your heart to the possibilities. And to Neil.”

  Annabeth’s pulse thudded strangely even as she protested, “Neil and I just met today.”

  “Yes,” Jane said, grinning. “I know. And what a terrible, wonderful adventure you are about to embark on.”

  Annabeth gaped at that, but before she could demand an explanation this time, footsteps alerted them to a male presence.

  “Sheena,” came a lilting, seductive voice from the doorway uttering the endearment. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Well, now you’ve found me, Curran, love.” Jane pushed herself up and took her cane. “The McKenna Legacy—ask Neil about it.”

  Annabeth merely nodded and smiled as Jane joined her husband, whose black hair and deep blue eyes were striking. He looked at Jane with such love, that longing welled in Annabeth.

  Would a man ever look at her that way? she wondered.

  Which made her think about Jane’s parting shot.

  The McKenna Legacy…

  Forget it, Annabeth told herself, going back to her cake. She wouldn’t be around Neil McKenna Farrell long enough to get his family history.

  “I DON’T KNOW what to think,” Neil said, having just told his cousin Skelly about the two precognitive incidents that he’d experienced.

  They were having a brandy in the den, which supposedly was Skelly’s office where he’d written his first two novels, despite the toys littering nearly every surface. It now happened to be Neil’s room for the week. He’d decided to tell Skelly what was on his mind since, until today, they’d had in common the fact that they’d both been left out of the McKenna woo-woo loop. Now, after that morning’s experience, Skelly held that honor alone.

  “Nothing like that has ever happened to me before,” Neil said, trying to understand why he’d suddenly tuned in to the McKenna Precognition Network. “Now I feel…I don’t know…like I’m responsible for Annabeth.”

  “You’re linked to her, all right, cuz,” Skelly said, grinning. “Congratulations.”

  “What?”

  Donovan entered the room, saying, “It is your time, after all—”

  Skelly and Donovan were ganging up on him as brothers often did. Half-brothers, Neil amended, though the men looked alike—both tall with dark hair and similar features. Both grinning at him.

  “My being thirty-three doesn’t have anything to do with this!” Neil protested.

  “—and Annabeth is undoubtedly part of Moira’s legacy to you,” Donovan finished, heading for the wall unit where the decanter of brandy sat. “Our grandmother always does have good taste, even from the great beyond.”

  Resentful that the brothers were ganging up on him, Neil muttered, “I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous.”

  Though secretly he’d been entertaining like thoughts. Disturbing thoughts.

  Despite his good sense, Neil was more drawn to Annabeth than he was willing to admit to his cousins. Or to himself, for that matter. Someday, he had hoped to meet a quiet, steady woman, someone with a nature similar to his own, and together, they would build a life and a family.

  He simply wasn’t looking for a spirited, independent Annabeth Caldwell!

  “I still have thirty-two days left to meet her,” he mumbled to himself, thinking that their grandmother’s legacy gave them until the thirty-third day after their thirty-third birthday.

  “That you do,” Donovan said.

  “Certainly,” Skelly agreed.

  But both of them were grinning ear to ear like idiots. “Morons!”

  Skelly choked back a laugh to say, “Tell me, cuz, what was your first impression of Miss Annabeth?”

  Remembering her struggle with the sack of feed, Neil said, “That she had a nice…uh…that she was attractive if outspoken.”

  “And when did you first have a vision?” Donovan asked, swirling the brandy in his glass.

  Since he’d missed the introductory part of the conversation, Neil brought him up to speed. “I irritated her and she went stalking off and I tried to stop her.”

  “So you had the vision when you touched her?” Donovan said.

  “Right.”

  “Mmm.” Donovan took a swallow of the liquor. “And you don’t think that’s significant?”

  “I feel like we’re connected, yes.”

  “Then you aren’t fighting it.”

  “There are different ways of being connected,” Neil insisted. “Like by a thief on the loose. By danger. That kind of connection.”

  “I think he’s in denial,” Donovan said.

  “No doubt about it.” Skelly arched an eyebrow at Neil. “Read Moira’s letter lately?”

  Neil didn’t have to read it again. He’d already read his copy of the letter that Moira McKenna had sent to each of her nine grandchildren so many times since his sister Kate had put herself in terrible danger, that he knew it by heart.

  He could see the well-worn, cream vellum sheet in his mind’s eye…

  To my darling grandchildren,

  I leave you my love and more. Within thirty-three days of your thirty-third birthday—enough time to know what you are about—you will have in your grasp a legacy of which your dreams are made. Dreams are not always tangible things, but more often are born in the heart. Act selflessly in another’s behalf, and my legacy will be yours.

  Your loving grandmother,

  Moira McKenna

  P.S. Use any other inheritance from me wisely and only for good, lest you destroy yourself or those you love.

  The act selflessly in another’s behalf part stood out in Neil’s mind. He began to fidget. To mentally scramble for a way out. But how could he? It wasn’t in his nature to leave someone vulnerable and in danger to her own devices.

  Uh-oh.

  Chances were, he was doomed….

  “YOU HAVE A NICE FAMILY,” Annabeth said as she hunkered down in the passenger seat of Neil’s truck. “A really big family. And close.”

  She sounded so wistful that he asked, “And you don’t?” as he pulled the vehicle away from the curb.

  “Not for a while. There’s just Mom and me now. And I was never close to cousins or aunts or uncles.”

  “Mothers are good,” Neil said, thinking of his own.

  Rose McKenna Farrell had always been the glue of the family, ever since he could remember. He also remembered what it had been like all those years that she’d been estranged from her brothers James and Raymond. Then his cousin Keelin had arrived from Ireland and had changed everything. But until the McKenna triplets were reunited a few years back, there had been an indescribable sadness about his mother that she had tried to hide.

  Kind of like Annabeth was doing now.

  “So are you and your mother okay?” he asked, quickly adding, “You just sound…well, like you’re missing something.” He hoped that was tactful enough that she wouldn’t take offense.

  “I’m missing her. It’s just that Mom’s not the same person she used to be. Me, neither, I guess. And then a few months ago, she moved back to Lincoln to live with her sister. She’d had it with this city.”

  Neil wondered what Annabeth wasn’t saying. What had happened a few months before? Not that it was any of his business, considering they didn’t even know each other.

  So, as he turned onto a main street and headed for the Old Town neighborhood where Annabeth
lived, he kept the conversation neutral.

  “Is that where you’re from? Lincoln, Illinois?”

  “I grew up on a farm that was a twenty-minute drive from Lincoln,” she said.

  So he’d been right in thinking she wasn’t a city girl. No wonder she’d wanted to work for the rodeo. The animals undoubtedly reminded her of her former life. Perhaps a better life than she had now.

  “Actually, Lincoln is only a few hours’ drive from Chicago,” she was saying, “but when you don’t have a car, it might as well be on the moon.”

  “If you were so close to your mother, why didn’t you move with her? It’s obvious that you miss her.”

  “Of course I do. But there’s nothing for me in rural Illinois anymore.”

  Again the wistfulness came through loud and clear, Neil thought. “But there was once?”

  “Before we lost the farm. It’s just not right, all those small operations being sucked up by big corporation farms. That land was in our family for four generations. It would have gone five or even more…”

  “You would have run it?”

  “With my brother.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “He’s gone now, too.”

  “I’m sorry. I do understand. Ranching isn’t a sure thing, either.”

  “But at least your family is keeping it together.”

  “We’ve been pretty lucky, though the whole family isn’t working the ranch. My sister, Kate, and her husband, Chase, help out during the busy times, but they’re responsible for a mustang refuge, and Kate is a successful vet, as well.”

  “Someone mentioned a brother.”

  “Yeah, I have a brother, but not so you would know it.” Neil was hard-pressed to keep his resentment from his tone. “Quinlan goes wherever the wind blows. Half the time we don’t even know his whereabouts.” Which upset their mother, especially. “Adventure rather than ranching is in his blood, I guess.”

  “Which you resent.”