Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

W HAT THE HELL was he doing?

That was the main thought going through Cal's head as Charlotte drove him to Port in a Storm. He could have driven himself, of course, but when Charlotte had offered, he'd taken her up on it. He'd done that to give himself some time to think and not have to focus on the road. But so far, the focus had been seriously narrow.

Basically: What the hell was he doing?

He'd agreed to meet his half brother, and that was good. Cal had wanted to meet him since he'd first learned about him. But he had never once planned on keeping such an encounter from the rest of his family. He'd agreed to it, though, and now he was grappling with the big-assed worry that he might not be able to do it. It was possible his dad, Blue or Egan would take one look at him, realize he had a secret and figure it out. Then there'd be hell to pay as to why they hadn't been included in something this monumental.

"I'm a shitty liar," Cal muttered.

"You are," Charlotte agreed as she took the turn toward Port in a Storm. "Remember that time in fifth grade when you did Noah's homework for him, and Mrs. Gafford got suspicious and asked you point-blank if you'd done it? You said no , but your ears lit up like a Christmas tree."

"I remember," Cal assured her, but he kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead. Not that he could see the ranch yet, but he was looking for any signs of a vehicle he didn't recognize.

When Rowan had called, he'd said he was near Emerald Creek and had given him that twenty-minute ETA. But it could be sooner than that, depending on exactly where he had been.

"Your ears are the equivalent of Pinocchio's nose," Charlotte added.

He made a sound of agreement and leaned closer to the windshield when Port in a Storm finally came into view. Cal's gaze immediately swept around. No unfamiliar vehicles, which meant he'd actually have a little time to try to settle his nerves before Rowan arrived.

Charlotte parked, but she reached for his hand before he could get out. "How on edge are you?"

"Plenty," he admitted. There was no experience for him to fall back on here. No practice in meeting his father's grown love child.

"I thought as much," she readily agreed. "I can't believe I haven't made use of your lie-detector ears before but let's play a little game to tamp down all those edges." And she launched right into it before he could refuse. "Are my eyes your favorite part of my body?"

He wanted to scowl. What he didn't want to do was lower his gaze to her breasts. But damn it, he did. It was such a guy thing. "Yes," he lied.

And his ears began to flame up. He could feel it.

Charlotte chuckled. "And do you think we could aim for forty-five next time, or is that too long for you to last?"

He didn't chuckle, but he did smile. "Aim high." No exacerbation of the red ears because it wasn't a lie. He would indeed like to test out the waters of going forty-five minutes or longer with Charlotte. "There'd have to be lots of foreplay."

"And what exactly is your favorite foreplay?" she asked. "Is it talking?"

"My whole head will ignite in flames if I say yes . It's this." And he leaned over and kissed her. That was true enough. The kissing was good, but it was tied with all the other stuff.

The kiss probably would have lasted a whole lot longer and possibly got a whole lot hotter if it hadn't been for the sound of an approaching vehicle. And just like that, Cal realized Charlotte had done the impossible.

She had indeed taken the edge off.

"Thanks," he told her, and he got out, turning in the direction of the Jeep that pulled to a stop behind Charlotte's car.

For a couple of seconds, the man in the vehicle didn't move. He sat there, staring out at Cal and muttering something. Since Cal was doing the same thing, he could relate. It wasn't exactly like looking in a mirror and seeing his own face, but there were plenty of similarities. The military-cut dark brown hair. The angles of his jaw. The set of his eyes.

"You can use whatever room you like, but my suite or the downstairs library will give you the most privacy," Charlotte offered as she got out of the car.

Cal nearly asked her to stay, to wait around for at least an introduction, but Charlotte must have decided he wanted privacy from her as well because she headed into the house.

Rowan finally stepped out. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt covered by an unbuttoned gray cotton shirt. When he came closer, Cal saw they were nearly identical in height. Hell. Rowan must have gotten every possible Donnelly gene available.

"Rowan Cullen," he said, extending his hand for Cal to shake. It occurred to Cal that maybe he'd done that to eliminate the possibility of a brotherly hug. Not that Cal would have attempted one. Everything about Rowan's body language said Give me some space here .

"Cal," he greeted back, and since standing around with his look-alike could cause some gossip, he tipped his head to the house. "Let's go inside and talk."

Rowan followed him but was quick to add, "Like I said on the phone, I can't stay long."

"I understand. Are you asking yourself what the hell you're doing here?" Cal asked to try to break the ice a bit.

"Yeah," Rowan verified. Things remained awkward as he didn't add anything else until they were on the porch. "You said this place was for veterans?"

Cal nodded, opened the front door and led him down the hall toward what he hoped was the library. There were so many rooms in the house that he wasn't sure which one that was. "Charlotte Wilson, the founder, calls it a Care B and B."

"Charlotte," he repeated. "She's the woman who was in the car with you when I drove up?"

"Yes." He considered adding to that response with something about her. But what? Girlfriend? Lover? A childhood friend who'd become a whole lot more? A partner in a complicated relationship with scalding-hot sex?

Cal opted for skipping any embellishments.

Thankfully, he'd been right about the room, and either it'd been preset for visitors or Charlotte had quickly put a tray containing bottles of water and a bowl of mixed nuts on the table nestled between two comfortable-looking chairs. Rowan took one of the chairs. Took one of the bottles, too, and he gulped down some as if his throat had turned to dust. Cal could relate.

"FYI, as you probably figured out, I got your phone number from the genealogy site," Rowan explained.

Cal nodded. "My brother Blue and I both added our numbers because we hoped you'd call at least one of us."

"Yeah, I picked yours because I'd heard your brother had had some medical problems. An injury."

Cal made a sound of agreement. "From a crash landing. But he's recovering." And Blue would have been damn glad to hear from Rowan. Anyone in his family would have wanted that.

"How much do you know about me?" Rowan asked. "Because I'm guessing that General Donnelly or your father did some kind of background check on me once they had my name." Not Mom and Dad or even my birth parents .

Cal remembered his ears, though he hadn't been planning on fudging this particular truth. "My dad did," he admitted as he took the chair across from Rowan. "Audrey did, too, but they didn't share much of the info with my brothers, sister or me."

"Your choice or theirs?" Rowan asked, but then he waved that off. "Doesn't matter. I did minimal background checks on all of you, and I realized your and my paths have crossed."

Cal had to shake his head. "I think I would have remembered your face."

"We were in gas masks. One of those NATO war-games exercises at a base in England about two years ago. You were there for an air show, and I was passing through."

Passing through. Vague wording.

"I've seen your sister a time or two," Rowan went on. He folded back the right side of his shirt so that Cal could see the special ops emblem there. An emblem he instantly recognized.

"You're an STO," Cal said, "and they often work with the CROs." This was one of those weird small-world situations.

Rowan nodded, drank more water. "I transferred from the Navy to the Air Force about three years ago. And don't read anything into that, like me sensing this genetic connection between General Donnelly and the rest of you. I had an opportunity for what I saw was a dream job, and I took it."

Cal nodded, too. "I know a little about offers of dream jobs." He paused. "If Remi ever recalled seeing you, I think she would have mentioned it to me."

"She wouldn't have known who I was, and I wish I could keep it that way. Since she knows my name, that's not possible, but I figured I could come here, meet with one of you and do some damage control."

Rowan hadn't said one of you with any kind of venom, but certainly there hadn't been any affection in it.

"My parents never told me I was adopted," Rowan shared. "And they don't know I found out through that DNA test." Now there was a tinge of venom, and Cal figured he regretted ever taking that test. "They're not in the best of health, and I don't want to do anything to upset them. My job is already more than enough worry for them to handle."

Another similarity. "I understand. My dad had two heart attacks last year."

If Cal hadn't been watching Rowan so closely, he might have missed the reaction. It was a barely there flinch from surprise. So he hadn't known. Then again, that wasn't something they'd plastered all over social media. Cal volunteered another revelation.

"My dad and Audrey are separated, and that's adding some stress as well."

Rowan kept his gaze on Cal. "Separated because of me?"

Again, the ears could play into this. "Yes. My dad, uh, well, he's having a hard time forgiving her. I think she's having a hard time forgiving herself. Not always easy to figure out that stuff with Audrey." He left it at that, and Rowan didn't push for more info on the woman who'd given birth to him.

"Like I said, I don't want you to tell them about this meeting," Rowan went on. "Maybe down the road..." He stopped, shook his head. "I'm not sure if I can give any of you anything. It would feel as if I was betraying my parents. They love me, they've sacrificed for me, and I can't do anything that would make them feel less than my parents."

On the surface this didn't seem like yet another similarity, but it was. "My mom died when I was six," Cal said, "and my dad married Audrey four years later. I don't call her Mom and I've never thought of her that way. So trust me when I say I get it." He stopped, sighed. "I won't tell Audrey or my family about the meeting, but just know that won't be easy for me."

"I understand," Rowan was quick to say. "After all, I'm not telling my folks about this, either. Since you fly F-22s, you've got a Top Secret clearance, so you're obviously good at keeping things to yourself. And it'll probably be easier to do that when your leave is up and you go back to the base. When do you leave?"

Cal groaned and was about to give Rowan a thumbnail of his dilemma. Burnout versus dream job. Charlotte versus everything else. But the sound cut off anything he'd been about to say. Not a shriek for one of those stupid dolls. This was a shout, and Cal instantly recognized the shouter.

Paul.

"You're being brainwashed, and you're too stupid to see it," Paul yelled. "You're coming home with me now."

Cal immediately got to his feet and hurried to the library door. Rowan was right behind him, and they stepped out into the hall to see a cluster of people. Paul, of course. Harper in her wheelchair, Alden, Charlotte and even Maybell, who was holding a wooden rolling pin as if it were a weapon.

Paul had latched on to Harper's arm, and Alden was trying to maneuver both Harper and her wheelchair away from Paul's reach. Charlotte was trying to squeeze herself between Paul and Harper, which meant it was one very congested tangle.

"What's going on?" Cal asked, his question cutting through another tirade Paul had started.

Paul whirled in Cal's direction, and his initial stance was one prepped for a fight. Shoulders back, face tensed, fists clenched. The man seemed to back down a notch or two, though, when he saw Rowan. Maybe because he saw the resemblance to Cal or perhaps because Paul hadn't counted on taking on two able-bodied men in this particular fight. Judging from Maybell's, Charlotte's and Alden's expressions, though, they were more than ready to have it out with this asshole.

Cal didn't take down his own fighting stance even a smidge. In fact, he amped it up and walked closer to Paul. "Do you remember what I said to you?" He didn't wait for Paul to answer. "I said if you did anything else to harm Harper, I'd make you pay. Well, this looks to me like you're trying to do harm."

Harper made a sound like a breathy gasp, and her eyes were wide and pleading when she looked at Cal. Maybe she was asking him to back down, to not make this worse, but he couldn't let Paul get away with this.

"Let go of her," Cal demanded.

Paul did, yanking back his hand as if he'd just been scalded. But he did that while he kept his defiant glare on Cal. The thick silence hung in the air, and Paul must have realized this wasn't a fight he could win. Well, not against anyone but Harper.

He looked down at his daughter, his mouth tightened in a sneer. "I just wanted to talk to you, that's all. You owe me that."

Paul didn't spell out what he meant, but Cal figured the man was playing the I've-always-been-there-for-you card. It was the truth, in a sick kind of way, and Cal hoped Harper didn't fall for it.

But she did.

"We can talk in my room," Harper said using her computer to talk. She dodged everyone's gaze but Cal's. "It'll be fine. I want to talk to him."

Cal stepped closer to challenge that, but Harper met his stare head-on. "I want to talk to him," she rasped out with her own voice.

He still thought Harper was doing this to avoid a fight, but Cal didn't stop her when she wheeled away with a triumphant-looking Paul trailing her.

"I'll wait outside her door," Alden was quick to volunteer, already heading in that direction, "and I'll give a shout if there's any sign of trouble."

Cal nodded, muttered a thanks and was still trying to decide how he should feel about this. Worried , he decided, and he turned to Rowan.

"Sorry about that," Cal said, and he was about to expand that apology to tell Rowan that he needed to be the one who kept an ear out for any issues.

"It's okay," Rowan was quick to say. "I should be going, anyway. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice."

It was a polite, distant thing to say, and it in no way conveyed the emotional visit they'd just had. But Rowan's gaze skirted over Charlotte and Maybell, who was still holding the lethal-looking roller. Charlotte smiled, Maybell didn't. Her mouth had dropped open in surprise, and she no doubt had figured out who this was.

Neither Cal nor Rowan acknowledged the recognition in the woman's eyes. Just the opposite. Rowan turned to leave at the exact moment that someone came through the still-open front door.

His father.

Cal wasn't sure who was more surprised by the visit, but he thought he was actually the winner here. His father rarely went anywhere these days, and this was his first visit to Port in a Storm. Added to that, Derek seemed to look like a man on a mission, and his attention immediately zoomed in on Rowan. His dad sighed, a sound that was a thick mix of emotions.

"It's true," his dad said, keeping his attention pinned to Rowan.

Rowan was sending off his own mixture-of-emotions vibe. No sigh for him. A groan, followed by some profanity under his breath. He looked at Cal, the question clear in his eyes.

"I didn't tell him you were here," Cal assured him.

"He didn't," his dad verified, coming closer. "One of the ranch hands called me. He said he was driving home, and he saw somebody in a Jeep that had to be my kin since he looked so much like my boys. He said he was headed in this direction."

Rowan muttered more profanity, and he was no doubt wishing he'd steered way clear of Emerald Creek. Maybe he hadn't realized the resemblance he had to the Donnellys, who were well-known in these parts.

"You didn't let me know Rowan was coming," his dad said to him.

"I asked him not to," Rowan answered before Cal could respond. "In fact, I wouldn't have come if Cal hadn't agreed to keep this meeting from you and anyone else in your family."

A muscle tightened in his dad's jaw. "I understand."

"Uh, I think I'll stand watch with Alden," Charlotte said, obviously to give them some privacy. Cal wasn't sure it was needed, though. It seemed to him that Rowan was gearing up for as fast an exit as possible. "And Maybell will help," she added when the woman didn't budge.

"Derek didn't know about you," Maybell insisted, holding her ground and finally lowering that blasted rolling pin. "So he's not to blame for what happened to you."

Like his earlier profanity, Rowan's huff was barely audible, but it was there, all right. "What happened to me was I had, and still have, a very good life with great parents who love me."

That obviously caused Maybell to throttle back on some of her defensiveness. "Well, good," she murmured, and she turned to walk toward Harper's room. At least if Paul did anything reckless, there'd be plenty of witnesses.

Rowan shifted his attention back to Derek. "And I wouldn't trade the life or the parents I have for anything. Anything ," he emphasized.

His father nodded, and Cal's heart broke for him. Cal could practically see the hope draining from his dad's eyes.

"If..." Derek started, but then he stopped and shook his head again. "Will Cal hear from you again?"

"No," Rowan was quick to say, but then he was the one who stopped and did some headshaking. "Probably not," he amended. He paused again. "Look, I don't know what went on between General Donnelly and you thirty-plus years ago, and I don't want to know. That's not meant to hurt you. It's just the way I need this to be."

"Of course," Derek muttered, and while Cal was still very concerned about how all this would affect his dad's health, there did seem to be a sliver of hope back in his expression.

If Rowan saw that hope, too, he didn't comment on it. He simply said goodbye and headed out. Both Cal and his dad turned to watch him leave, and they stood there in silence until Rowan's Jeep was out of sight.

Hell.

Cal really hoped this meeting hadn't been a huge mistake.