The Callahans (Prequel - Tempted By A Texan Series)



  THE CALLAHANS

  TEMPTED BY A TEXAN PREQUEL

  By

  Laurie LeClair

  Copyright © 2015 by Laurie LeClair

  All rights reserved. This work is not transferrable. Any reproduction of this work is prohibited without the permission of the author due to the infringement on the copyright. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the creation of the author or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or people, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Dedication

  To the state and people of Texas. In the eighteen years I’ve lived here, I have come to love this incredible place and the wonderful people I’ve been honored to meet along the way. Thanks y’all, for embracing this “Yankee”!

  As always, to my husband, Jim. Thanks for going on this great adventure with me.

  Chapter 1

  Gran

  Reaching over, Annie Callahan turned up the knob on the kitchen radio and danced to the snappy tune. “’Bout the bass,” she sang, wiggling her hips.

  A cough from behind her startled her. Whipping around, she stared at the older man.

  “What is he doing here?” she asked the moment she saw him fully enter her kitchen. “He’s nothing but trouble, if you ask me.”

  “Gran, I invited him.” Travis, her oldest grandson, held up his hands and intervened. “He’s helping me with the tractor this morning.”

  “Geezer,” she muttered, going back to her task. In the meantime, she lowered the radio, but still sang a line or two. Clutching the basket of fresh biscuits as the two men stomped their boots on the rug near the back door, and then headed for the long rancher’s kitchen table, she watched.

  “Mean, I tell you.” The old man shook his head, his graying hair clean and short. But he looked over his shoulder and caught her eye, winking.

  “Two can play at that game,” Gran muttered under her breath. She sashayed over to the table, plopped the basket down and noted how he had shaven today. She scowled at him. He cleaned up nicely. But why in the middle of the week? He usually left that chore for church on Sunday.

  He had a nice firm jaw, sparkling blue-gray eyes and a wicked smile. Not that she noticed or anything. Not that she looked at him closely over the last five decades or anything. Her neighbor irritated her to no end.

  “Travis, honey, can you round up those brothers of yours for me?” she asked sweetly enough.

  “They’re coming. Slow as molasses, but they’re on their way from the barn.”

  Well, there went that idea to get the geezer alone and give him a piece of her mind again. She sighed, and then turned and went back to the stove. “Cassie should be here tomorrow afternoon. My, it will be nice to see my girl.”

  Travis grunted. “Another one for me to get after.” But there was a smile in his voice. He may be the oldest and the least to show his emotions, but he did love his five siblings. And he missed his sister the most.

  Gran stirred the hash browns, cut the heat on the eggs, and then dished out the sausage patties to the serving plate. “She’s been gone far too long. Time for her to come home.”

  “Don’t you mean, time to get her hitched, woman?” the geezer asked. “You’ve been itching to get all your grandchildren married off.”

  Her back stiffened. “I need to see them settled before I die. Is that a crime?”

  He chuckled. “You’ve been ‘dying’ for at least ten years now.” Nodding to Travis, he asked, “Starting with this one here?”

  “That’s my business, old man. Not yours. About time you mind yours, don’t you think?” She twisted the knob on the stove, and then hefted the pan of eggs and slammed it on the waiting mat on the counter. “Silly old man, you never worried about any of us,” she muttered.

  “I heard that,” he snapped. “Look—”

  Four young men came rushing through the back door, causing a ruckus. They were talking loud and laughing, making her smile.

  Her grandsons trampled in. Each one stopped long enough to kiss her on the cheek, wish her a good morning, and then they lined up to wash their hands.

  Their voices filled the awkward silence between the geezer and her.

  Travis rose and came to the stove, lifting the heavy pan of oatmeal for her. He held on while she spooned it into the serving dish. “Easy, Gran,” he murmured, but they both knew it wasn’t about the food; it had everything to do with the man he’d invited to breakfast. When she finished, he put down the big pan.

  She snorted. It was always the way with Travis: trying to be the man of the family, taking the lead in a charged situation, and bringing peace.

  It began the day over ten years ago when his parents died in a plane crash one hundred fifty miles away. He was just a young, carefree college boy until that moment. Without any one asking, he chose to become a man that day.

  Her sigh shuddered out of her, letting go of the long standing bickering with geezer as memories of losing her son and his wife in that crash rushed up. Raising their six children on her own had been a necessary blessing. “No need getting my panties in a wad, is there?”

  His chuckle warmed her chilly heart. “Visual, Gran. How many times have I begged you not to give me those visuals?”

  Annie smiled, quick and easy. “I’ve got to get you to loosen up somehow, don’t I?”

  “Let’s find another way, all right?” He leaned down and kissed her on her temple. “Here, let me help you with this.” He grabbed for the dish and just then his brothers came in. Travis handed Colt the oatmeal, Quinn the sausage, and told Ethan to wait for the eggs. “Plates, Luke.” He nodded to the stack.

  “Yes, sir,” he said with a big grin on his face.

  Travis shook his head, and then directed the boys to place everything on the sideboard.

  In minutes, they’d filled their plates and were seated at the long, scarred and worn table.

  “Say grace, Quinn,” Travis ordered.

  “Grace,” the youngest brother shot back. “All right. I was just kidding. You don’t have to shoot me that scary look of yours.”

  “I’ll do it, if you don’t mind,” the geezer offered.

  Gran jerked her head up and eyed him closely. “Suit yourself.” But the twinkle in his eyes did strange things to her. She brushed it aside, knowing a seventy-three-year-old woman raising six grandchildren shouldn’t be thinking the things she was thinking right now.

  His smile stretched from ear to ear before he bowed his head. “Lord, thank you for this fine woman who cooks like a dream, even with a scowl on her brow.”

  She grit her teeth.

  “And, Lord, thank you for the mighty fine boys sitting here. You sure did a good job with them. Oh, yeah, Annie did, too.”

  Peeking from under her lashes, she watched her grandsons glance at one another, wondering what would come next.

  “Now, I know you’ve got plenty of prayers to answer, and I’ve asked this one dozens of times already, but, if you’ve got a spare minute or two, could you just take that foul mood and the constant meddling out of this old woman once and for all. Amen.”

  Snapping her head up, she said, “Geezer, no one but you could ruin a prayer.”

  Her grandsons tried to hide their smiles, but she knew those sly looks like the back of her hand.

  “Thanks, Gran.” Travis began to eat and moaned. “Best cook in town.”

  The other boys agreed between tastes of each dish.

  “Divine,” Geezer said, smacking his lips, but looking directly at her.

  �
��Shut up, you old coot,” she shot back.

  “Foul, I tell you, simply foul.”

  “Stop buttering me up.” She sent him a tight smile.

  That shameful man smiled widely and winked at her again.

  She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what he was up to this time.

  Annie Callahan would not stand for any of the geezer’s shenanigans.

  Not ever again.

  Chapter 2

  Travis

  Sitting in the quiet, peaceful office, Travis Callahan heard his brothers’ boot steps clattering down the stairs and then the door slam. Another night out.

  He gazed down at the pile of paperwork in front of him. Sighing heavily, he sat back in his chair.

  “How am I ever going to get them to take this seriously?”

  Blowing out a hot breath, he went back to the computer and started plugging in the figures from the receipts. In the back of his mind, he calculated just how much each business raked in over the last week.

  As the head of the Callahan clan and business, Travis had diversified over the last few years. When his siblings came of age, they were given an opportunity to be responsible for their own business within the ranch. Breeding cattle and horses, running a thriving saddle shop, raising goats, growing fruit and vegetables to sell at their farmers’ market, cultivating fields of lavender for bath products and teas, and promoting all of it were huge endeavors and big risks to take on an established ranch. His sister seemed aware of that fact, as she traveled extensively to get the Callahan name known and products on shelves. His brothers, not so much.

  Now, if only they’d treat it not so much as a playground and more like a much-needed addition to their family business, Travis would be happy and could relax a little about the state of affairs of the bustling property.

  Travis thought giving them their own segment of the ranch, something to carve out and make their own, would corral their energies and keep their attention for more than ten minutes. It hadn’t.

  “Maybe Gran is right…”

  “What’s that?” Gran stood at the door with a tray; two steaming mugs and a plate of cookies sat on top. “I’m right?”

  Rising quickly, he went to take the heavy tray from her. “You heard.”

  She came into the big book-lined library and office and eased into one of the tan and white cattle-hide chairs across from his as he placed the tray on the desk and handed her a mug of hot chocolate. “And? You going to tell me the rest?”

  “The boys and Cassandra. Maybe it is time to get them married off. Settle them down.” He took the coffee and sat back down.

  “You, too.” She nodded. “‘Bout time you set an example.”

  He cringed inwardly. Marriage? That involved spending precious time away from the ranch business and wooing someone. In all practicality, he realized someday he’d have to find a wife. He wanted kids. To him, that meant having a wife, a partner in life, to have them with and raise them together. But all the women he’d known—some he’d dated—in the end wanted more. Much, much more than he could give them. His heart would stay intact. Emotions were foolhardy and dangerous.

  Look where it had gotten his parents. On a besotted whim, his father had arranged to extend their trip to the cattle rancher’s meeting in Fort Worth and dash over to Vegas, giving his beloved wife a taste of the high life, or so Travis recalled the excuse.

  Chartering a private plane, one his father hadn’t checked out, all due to his mother’s dislike of crowded airports, changed everything. The rash decision had cost them their lives and had landed their six orphaned children on their elderly grandparents’ doorstep.

  Travis dropped out of college to care for them all. As the oldest, he felt it was his duty. He’d done it then. And was still doing it.

  Marriage could wait. He had to take care of his family. “Them first.” Travis could easily make that excuse. “Then I can concentrate on a personal life.” Like he really wanted to at this point. Work was his life.

  Gran smirked. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re dodging this.”

  “You know me so well.” He smiled back before he took a sip of the fragrant black brew. Its hot, bitter flavor suited him at the moment. “What about you? You game?”

  She laughed out loud, nearly spitting out her hot chocolate. Coughing a few times, she finally cleared her throat. “You’re looney tunes if you even think that. I’m set in my ways. And I’m not about to train another husband…”

  “Gramps,” he said wistfully. He had a soft spot for the man who had taken Travis under his wing and schooled him on the ranch and especially life.

  She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “The way he was, that is.”

  “Gran, can’t you try to be happy?”

  “Who says I’m not? That geezer you dragged in this morning?”

  Smiling, Travis said, “Fireworks whenever you two come within ten feet of each other.”

  “More like gun fire. If only I’d had my rifle handy…”

  “Whoa now!” Travis held up his hands. “He’s our chief mechanic round these parts. You can’t be putting him out of commission or we’ll all suffer.”

  “That’s the only thing that keeps me from strangling the poor buzzard.”

  Travis rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, Gran. Why do I have to be the grown-up around here?”

  “And I’m not?”

  “You’re my biggest worry.”

  She stuck out her tongue. “Am not!”

  His grandmother had just proved his point. Somehow, she turned a blind eye to her own antics and still denied it. He grew serious. “What’s going to happen to you when you marry all of us off?”

  Her face fell.

  His heart hitched.

  “I’ll still be useful.” But doubt clouded her words.

  “Of course you will be.” She would still find a way to meddle in their lives. He could be certain of that. “Great-grandkids will come along.”

  Her face brightened up at that. Placing her mug down, she rubbed her hands together. “That’s it! Now, who shall we start with first?”

  That gleam in her eye scared him. “Babies?”

  “Spouses! Don’t worry, Travis. I’ll save you for last.”

  He shuddered, hoping she’d be too vested in his siblings’ affairs to keep her sights off him. If only…

  She grabbed a pencil and piece of paper and began to scribble a list. Her mumbles worried him even more.

  Watching her, he noted her short graying blonde hair in soft waves brushing along her forehead and her drawn-in brows and her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. It clued him into her intense concentration.

  Trouble!

  Could he stop her? Business needed to come first and foremost. Two hundred thousand acres of land, the animals raised there, the planted crops, and the staff who did all the hard work needed his upmost attention. That and starting interior businesses for his siblings to run stretched his resources. With Gran in the mix, playing matchmaker, this could end up being detrimental to his plans.

  What had he started?

  “Now, the way I see it, we start with Cassie. It’s time she came home for good and made a home.” Looking up at him, she tapped the yellow number 2 pencil against her lips. “Who would we get for her?”

  “A business?” he asked hopefully. Yes, bringing his sister off the road would do wonders for his grandmother’s heart and ease her worry about her granddaughter.

  His sister, strong and stubborn, might resist. Sandwiched between her three older brothers and two younger ones, she’d fought for her opinions and ideas to be heard. And won.

  “Give her something that’s hers,” he suggested.

  “A man should provide for her.” His grandmother’s old-fashioned views made him smile.

  “You going to inform her? Good luck with that.” His grin widened. His sister had taught him quite a bit about women standing on their own two feet. “You didn’t help matters.”
>
  “It wasn’t like I had a choice. I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and got on with raising all of you. There was no other way.”

  He contemplated that for a few moments. “You did a good job, Gran. We’re Callahans to the core. You instilled that in us. Family. Integrity. Pride.”

  “Damn right I did. Now, who the hell are we going to find for Cassie?”

  Something nudged him. Perhaps it was a pang of guilt. “Maybe we shouldn’t be arranging the man for her.”

  “A prenup.” She went back to her list, scribbling some more. “For all of you.”

  “A standard Callahan prenup?” He joked, but by the look on her face she took it into consideration.

  “Hmm…won’t work. You have more control, so yours is more important. Good that you’ll be the last one married off. That gives me more time to work on your papers.”

  He sat up. “Gran. This is foolish.” It sank in. “We can’t control the boys and Cass even now. What makes you think we’ll have any say-so in selecting their spouses?”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head off, Travis. I have a plan.”

  He groaned. “The last time you had a plan, we nearly lost half of our profits for the year.”

  “We earned them back and more,” she countered.

  “With a heap of scrambling on my part,” he muttered, recalling her madcap idea of buying a herd of goats, milking them, making cheese, and selling both. He’d objected. She’d persisted. It worked beyond her wildest predictions.

  “We’re a good team. You and I are going to get those pesky siblings of yours hitched, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  An image of a bull standing its ground and digging its hooves in place flashed through his mind. “Oh, I’m in trouble now.”

  “That smart mouth of yours will get you in hot water, sonny.” She chuckled. Sitting on the edge of her seat, she asked, “Do you want to hear it or not?”

  Travis spread out his hands. “Give it to me.”

  She drummed her index fingers on the desk. “Drum roll…Why, we start a weekend singles getaway!”

  He dropped his hands to the desk top. “A what?”