Branded by a Callahan. Tina Leonard

ached like sin, and spit out his mouth guard. “My life passed before my eyes,” he said, lurching to sit on a hay bale. “Holy smokes, I think I saw the face of God.”

      Tighe laughed, pounded him on the back. “You’re fine. You’re all right.”

      “Yeah. He didn’t put me in the hospital.”

      Cowboys came by, shouting words at him he heard but that somehow didn’t sink in. “I’ve got to do that again.”

      His twin handed him a water bottle. “On Firefreak?”

      “Sorry piece of boot leather isn’t going to defeat me.” The thing was, for those glorious five seconds, it had been all about survival, sort of like when he’d been in Afghanistan, only more endurable because Firefreak was an enemy he had control of. Five seconds of nothing but a mind-numbing, desperate attempt to hang on—and he hadn’t donated one of those seconds to thinking about Ana.

      It had been glorious relief.

      “We have enough points to move on,” Tighe said. “Next rodeo, next ride.”

      Dante rubbed his rib, wiped his brow. “I’m going home, bro.”

      Tighe straightened, his expression shocked dismay. “Home to Rancho Diablo? Why?”

      He couldn’t explain it, not even to his twin. But Tighe must have felt it. The two of them practically shared every thought. “It’s almost Halloween. I want to see the kids trick-or-treat.” He sighed at the memory and felt strength washing over him. “There’s nothing like seeing all the Callahan kinder dressed up like tiny ghosts and ballerinas.”

      Tighe smiled. “True.”

      “We’ve been gone for months, chasing this dream.” He’d last gone home for a wedding in June, when his brother Falcon had married the light of his life, Taylor Waters. Feeling the call of the wild, Dante and Tighe had quit the family fold, leaving their brothers and sister to keep the enemy stalking Rancho Diablo at bay.

      He’d worked out his wild oats. Or gotten them crushed out of him by the likes of Firefreak.

      “You think you’re over long-legged Ana of the streaming golden hair and luscious lips? I believe that’s how you refer to her when you’re thrashing in your sleep.”

      “Wasn’t anything to get over.” Dante wiped his face, brought away a little sawdust, sweat and a bit of blood. “I’m probably about as over her as you are over her buddy River. She of the teasing eyes and voice of a goddess, as you mumble after you’ve had a six-pack or so.”

      Tighe grunted. “Stay strong, bro. Denial is the first hint ye old heart still acheth.”

      “Shut up, Tighe.” Maybe his twin was right, but the loyalty factor lately had reared its head in his thoughts. He could only ditch the family so long, wouldn’t have ditched them at all if he hadn’t felt a burning need to keep Tighe out of trouble. They’d almost never been separated, rarely even during their terms in Afghanistan. As SEALs, they weren’t assigned to the same team, but they’d still been able to keep tabs on each other. “It’s fine.” He got up, happy that his body ached more than his heart. “It’s more than fine.”

      “Good.” Tighe stood beside him. “Don’t think I have to tell you I’m not going.”

      “All in good time.” Dante shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

      “You gonna marry her?”

      Dante laughed. “I’m not a marrying man.”

      “You act like a marrying man, all soreheaded whenever anyone mentions Ana.”

      “I don’t want to marry her.” The nanny bodyguard, who protected Sloan and Kendall’s little boys from potential kidnappers, was smooth and tall, and when she walked it was more of a stalk, like a sexy panther. His throat tended to dry out just watching Ana move, as if he was a dog watching a bone swing just out of reach. His heart kicked into overdrive and his, well... Suffice it to say he had a burn that wouldn’t quit around her. Sometimes he was positive Ana had been brought to the ranch just to torture him with sweet, restless dreams; his own hell for longing for beauty and goodness in his life these days, punishment exacted for the sins he’d committed. “I think I want to sleep with her. Surely that’s all it is.”

      “Maybe, maybe not.” Tighe shook his head. “Sometimes one thing leads to another.”

      “Doubt it.”

      “Why don’t you just spend the night with her then and quit going around like someone’s shot you full of holes?”

      “Because I’m afraid of her.” Dante took off some of his gear. Making up his mind felt great. He’d faced the worst of what a rank bull had to offer, now he could face the rest of what he needed to. “She’s so radioactive that I’m afraid I’d never get over it once I—”

      “That’s fine.” Tighe shuddered. “There’s nothing more devastating than lust when emotion is involved. It’s good old-fashioned sex with no strings for me, or I’m not getting near it.”

      “Yeah, well, cry me a river.” Dante packed up his stuff. “Good luck at the next ride.”

      “You’re leaving today?” Tighe’s brows went sky-high. Disappointment was etched in his navy eyes, and Dante felt another stab of disloyalty for leaving his twin behind.

      “Gotta be home in time for tricks or treats.” It really was something to behold, seeing almost two dozen Callahan children running around munching on popcorn balls and candy corn. Ghost stories would be told—gently—and hot apple cider drunk. He wasn’t about to miss the fun. There’d be pony rides and a ghost piñata for the tiniest to swing at with a sponge bat. “I’m heading for Hell’s Colony first for tricks-’n-treats, then on to Rancho Diablo for the real haunting.”

      Tighe smirked. “You’ll be back with me on the circuit soon. I give it two, three weeks. As soon as you realize you’d rather be riding Firefreak than being invisible to the nanny bodyguard goddess, you’ll hotfoot it right back. You know where to find me.”

      “Yeah. Happy trails. Don’t bust your noggin. See ya, bro.” He grabbed his stuff and headed off, looking forward to testing himself against the ultimate green-eyed fire.

      * * *

      THE HUGE SPREAD in Hell’s Colony, Texas, was a compound, actually, owned by the Phillips family. Beautiful Kendall Phillips had married his brother Sloan, and when the Callahans had needed a place to hide out for a while, Kendall had offered her family home. It had turned out nicely for all because it kept all the Diablo Callahans together, and safe from those that meant them harm.

      The Callahan children loved being together. Halloween night was no exception, and almost two dozen diminutive ghosts, tiny pumpkins, some petite pea pods still in carriers and a few larger Cinderellas and Zorros ran around holding pillowcases for the treats they hoped to collect. Moms were dressed as anything from Raggedy Ann to Glinda the Good Witch from Oz, and Dante laughed at some of his cousins and their getups. He was feeling pretty good about his own costume—a black mask, black cowboy hat and jingling spurs. He was channeling “cowboy rascal”—maybe the outfit wasn’t far off enough to be a costume—when Ana slinked past him wearing what could only be termed as a nurse’s uniform, and suddenly Dante lacked the serenity he’d previously boasted of to his twin. Oh, he guessed it wasn’t a sexy costume in the classical sense; she didn’t wear garters, and there were none of the frills that went along with the tacky version of the nurse’s uniform. She was simply dressed in purple scrubs. Purple top, purple pants, long hair up in a streaming gold ponytail, and high tan cork sandals. It wasn’t supposed to be sexy. She was, after all, a nanny—or bodyguard, take your pick—to Sloan’s twins, but as far as Dante was concerned, Ana could wear a plastic trash sack and his adrenaline would still jet into overdrive.

      Tighe had been so right.

      Blast.

      “Hi,