The Bull Rider's Twins. Tina Leonard
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kitchen was empty. The scents of wondrous culinary delights (Fiona could cook like no other, and Burke was no slouch in their shared gastronomic hobby) were absent. Rafe felt his stomach rumble and figured this might be an unannounced catch-as-catch-can night. They had those at Rancho Diablo, though rarely. Usually on the nights their fearless aunt had bingo or her book reading club or a church group, she cut them loose. But at least a pie would be left on the kitchen counter, with a note on the Today’s Meal chalkboard that read something to the effect of “Tough Luck! You’re Stuck!”
Tonight, all that was on the counter was a single bar of something silver. Rafe, Jonas and Sam crowded around it, perplexed.
“That’s not cherry pie,” Sam said.
“It’s mined silver,” Jonas said. “Mined and pressed into a bar. See the .925 on it?”
Rafe blinked. “Why would Fiona leave us a bar of silver?”
“All those years people have whispered about there being a silver mine on our land suddenly comes to mind,” Sam said, his voice hushed.
Rafe’s gaze went back to the bar. “We’ve been over every inch of Rancho Diablo. There’s no way.”
“I don’t know,” Jonas said. “Why else would Aunt Fiona have a silver bar?”
“Because she’s putting it in her stock portfolio,” Sam said. “She bought some through a television advertisement, or a jeweler, to diversify her nest egg. It’s not sound to leave all one’s investments in the stock market or the national currency. She’s just taken physical possession of some of her holdings, I would guess.”
“But what if it’s not part of her nest egg?” Rafe asked. “What if there really is a silver mine on Rancho Diablo? That would explain why Bode Jenkins is so hot to get this place.”
They heard Burke whistling upstairs, and the chirping sound of Fiona’s voice.
“Quick,” Jonas said. “Outside.”
They hustled out like furtive thieves. Rafe closed the door carefully behind him. His brothers had already skedaddled down the white graveled drive toward the barns.
Rafe hurried after them. “Why don’t we ask her what it is? What if there is silver on the ranch? What if Bode is sniffing around for it?”
“Then she probably wouldn’t have left proof of its existence lying out on the kitchen counter,” Sam said. “By now, Bode’s had this place satellite mapped, I’m sure. He’s had the geographic and mineral composition of the land gone over. If there was silver around here, he would know before we would.”
“All I’m suggesting,” Rafe said, “is that maybe it’s time we quit being so worried about offending Fiona. That we just ask her.”
His brothers stopped, gave him a long eyeballing. Rafe shrugged. “I mean, what the hell?” he asked. “If we have a silver mine, hurrah for us. It doesn’t change anything.”
“If there’s a silver mine, and Fiona’s been putting away dividends all these years, I don’t want to know.” Jonas shrugged. “Look, I love Fiona. I don’t give a damn if there’s solid gold under this ranch from corner to corner, and she plans to ferret all of it off like a conquistador. I really don’t care. So I’m not asking.”
Jonas had a point. Rafe didn’t want to hurt Fiona’s feelings, either. She’d given up a pretty decent life in Ireland to come take care of them, which couldn’t have been easy. They had not been a snap to raise. “All right,” Rafe said, “by now she’s probably hidden the damn thing. So can we go back now, act like we didn’t see it and go over the Judah problem with her? I’m pretty certain we need a guiding hand here.”
They went back to the house, and this time, Jonas banged on the kitchen door.
Fiona flung it open. “For heaven’s sake. Can’t you open a door by yourselves? Three big strong men can’t figure out how to use the key?” She glanced at the doorknob. “The door isn’t locked. Why are you knocking, like this isn’t your house?”
They stared at their tiny aunt. Her eyes were kind, her voice teasing, but she seemed truly mystified. Rafe swallowed. “Aunt Fiona, we wonder if you have a moment so we might pick your brain?”
“So you’re standing on the porch? You won’t pick it out there. When you’re ready, come inside.”
They went in, glancing at each other like errant school boys. “You bring up the joke condoms,” Rafe said quietly to Jonas. “You’re the oldest. I’m not comfortable talking about sex with my aunt.”
Jonas straightened his shoulders. “It’s not a conversation I want to have, but no doubt she’s heard worse.”
“That’s true,” Sam said. “You go for it, Jonas. We support you.”
Fiona waved them into the kitchen, where they leaned against the counters. The silver bar was gone, which Rafe had expected. His brothers gave him the same “You see?” look, to which he simply shrugged. He was more worried about condoms than silver bars at the moment.
“Rafe wants to tell you something,” Jonas said. “Right, Rafe?”
He gulped, straightened. “I guess so.” He flashed Jonas an irate glare with his eyes. “Judah has departed.”
Fiona nodded. “He said he longed to test his mettle on the back of an angry bull. I told him to have at it. Judah’s been restless lately.”
Rafe swallowed again. “Aunt Fiona,” he said carefully, not sure how to begin, and then Sam said, “Oh, come on. It’s not that hard.”
Rafe gave his brother a heated look, wishing he could swing his boot against Sam’s backside.
“Spit it out,” Fiona said. “You’re acting like you have something horrible to tell me. I’ve got butterflies jumping in my stomach just looking at you, like the time you came to tell me you’d burned down the schoolhouse. You hadn’t, but you thought you had—”
Rafe cleared his throat. “Creed gave us all boxes of prank condoms at his bachelor party as a send-off.”
Fiona looked at him. “Prank condoms?”
He nodded. “Different colors, different, uh, styles. In the box, there were ‘trick’ condoms. You were supposed to guess which of the twelve was the trick.”
Fiona wrinkled her nose. “What ape thought of that?”
“Creed,” Sam and Jonas said.
“I mean, the product.” Fiona sighed. “Only an imbecile would buy … Oh, never mind. None of you were dumb enough not to get the joke, so ha-ha.”
“We hear rumors,” Jonas said, trying to help his brother out, for which Rafe was relieved, “that Darla might be expecting a baby.”
Fiona frowned. “What does that have to do with us?”
“Well, is she?” Sam asked.
“It seems there may be a reason for the marital haste.” Fiona opened the refrigerator and took out a strawberry icebox pie. She cut them each a generous slice, and the brothers eagerly gathered around with grateful thanks. “I have a Books’n’Bingo Society meeting tonight, and I intend to ask my dear friend about this rumor.”
“Creed thinks,” Sam said, around a mouthful of pie, “that Darla and Judah may have had a …”
She glanced at him. “Romantic interlude?”
All three brothers nodded.
“Did you ask Judah?” she inquired.
They shook their heads.
She gazed at all of them. “Do we suspect joke condoms might come into play?”
“We fear they might have,” Sam said. “They could have. I threw my