The New Girl In Town. Brenda Harlen

me for a fool?”

      “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”

      Matt’s quiet comment gleaned a dagger stare from Seamus, but J.T. hurried on. “I don’t know what you think we’re after, but I assure you, we did come here to look for our mother.”

      “You can’t assure me of anything. I don’t trust you any more than I trusted that no-good daddy of yours.”

      A muscle in J.T.’s cheek began to tic and his smiled slipped a bit. “Nevertheless, it’s true. We were adopted by different families, and until late last summer, none of us knew the other existed. Matt and I made the initial connection by accident.”

      “With these,” Matt said, pulling his medallion piece out from beneath his shirt and whipping it off over his head.

      Zach and J.T. quickly followed suit. Gathering the three pie-shaped wedges, Zach rose and laid them on the desk in front of Seamus. With one finger, he slid the pieces of silver together into a perfect fit. The old man leaned over, scowling as he read the inscription.

      “J.T. located Zach a few months ago,” Matt continued. “Now we’re trying to find our mother. Or, failing that, to at least learn what we can about her. We were hoping you could help us.”

      “You’re barking up the wrong tree. I got nothing to say. That ungrateful girl has been dead to me since the day she confessed that she’d gotten herself knocked up. I threw her out and told her to never come back.”

      “For getting pregnant?” J.T. looked dumbfounded. “Women have babies out of wedlock all the time. Some are even planned.”

      “Not thirty-six years ago they didn’t,” the old man snapped. “And I wouldn’t stand for it today, either. I’ll have no harlots or bastards in my family.”

      “How about her belongings?” Matt inquired. “She must have left something here. Could we take a look at those?”

      “Burned it all years ago.”

      Seamus put his hands flat on the desktop and levered himself to his feet. “Let’s cut the crap. I know damned well you didn’t come here looking for your tramp of a mother. You came hoping to get your hands on this ranch. Well, I’m telling you that just ain’t gonna happen. The Rocking R isn’t going to fall into the hands of Mike Reardon’s by-blows.” He thumped the desktop with the side of his fist. “By heaven, I’ll give the place away before I’ll let that happen.”

      “That’s it. I’m outta here. I told you two this was a bad idea.” Zach headed toward the door.

      “He’s right. C’mon. We don’t have to take this.” Using his cane, Matt levered himself to his feet and followed.

      Zach snatched open the door and strode out—and barreled into the young woman they had seen a few moments before. She hit his chest with an “Oof!” and bounced off.

      “Damn.” Zach grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling, set her aside with a terse, “Excuse me, miss,” and continued on toward the entrance.

      He had a fleeting impression of startled violet eyes and skin like ivory silk, but beyond that he paid her no mind. He was too intent on getting the hell away from Seamus Rafferty before he lost his temper and planted his fist right in the old coot’s sneering face—grandfather or no.

      “Seamus, is something wrong?” the woman asked as Matt and J.T. trooped past in Zach’s wake. “Who are those men?”

      Neither Zach nor his brothers waited around to hear the old man’s answer.

      “Of all the foul-tempered, suspicious, spiteful old bastards!” Matt snarled the instant they gained the front porch.

      “Yeah, Gramps is a bit of a disappointment.”

      “If that’s supposed to be funny—”

      “Knock it off, both of you.” Zach fixed his brothers with a hard look. “We gave it our best shot and got nowhere. Now can we just drop this whole thing and forget about the past?”

      “Suits me.”

      “I don’t think we ought to give up,” J.T. argued.

      Matt spat out an expletive and rolled his eyes.

      “Look, you do what you want, but I’m out of here,” Zach said. “As soon as we get back to town, I’m heading for Sedona.”

      “¡Pssst! ¡Señors! ¡Señors!”

      As one, they turned to see the woman Seamus had called Maria peeking nervously from around a forsythia at the corner of the house.

      “I must speak with you, por favor. Es muy importante.”

      The brothers exchanged a brief look and moved down the porch to the woman’s hiding place.

      “Yes?”

      Clutching a flat cardboard box to her breasts, Maria glanced around nervously. “You wish to know about Señorita Colleen, sí? Sus madre?”

      “Yes,” J.T. replied. “Do you know where she is?”

      A stricken expression flashed over the woman’s face. “I…” She shook her head, then cast a quick look over her shoulder and thrust the shirt-size box into Zach’s hands. “You take this, señor. La señorita sent it to me over thirty years ago.”

      “What is it?”

      “Her diario. How you say…journal. Also a photograph that I hid from Señor Rafferty so he would not burn it. Señorita Colleen, she beg me not to tell her padre I have the journal.”

      Matt snorted. “She probably knew he’d destroy it, like he did the rest of her stuff.”

      Maria nodded. “Sí, it is so. La señorita, she want me to keep the diario safe and give it to her muchachos if you ever come here. I am an old woman. I begin to think you will not come while I still live.”

      A door slammed at the back of the house and Seamus bellowed, “Dammit, Maria! Where the hell are you?”

      She jumped guiltily. “I must go.” Grasping Zach’s arm, she urged, “Por favor. Read the diario. All your questions, they will be answered.”

      “To save time, I think we should read it out loud,” Zach suggested when he and his brothers entered Matt’s motel room a short while later.

      “Good idea.” J.T. stretched out on one of the double beds and laced his fingers together behind his head. “Why don’t you start?”

      Matt sat on the edge of the other bed, and Zach settled into one of the room’s two chairs. Almost reverently, he lifted the cover off the box and found himself staring at a photograph of a young girl of about eighteen.

      She was more striking than beautiful—a female version of the face he saw in the mirror each day—the same blond hair and green eyes, the same thin, straight nose, sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. Her mouth was a bit fuller and softer than his own, but the shape was identical.

      It was eerie, looking at that face. The short hairs on Zach’s nape and forearms stood on end. No wonder the waitress at Hodie’s had been so shocked. And why Seamus had known instantly who they were.

      While his brothers studied the photograph, Zach lifted the diary out of the box. The cheap vinyl cover was cracked and split and the pages felt brittle, the edges brown with age.

      He looked at Matt and J.T. and cocked one eyebrow. “You ready?” An edgy awareness that they were about to uncover their past pulsed in the air.

      “Yeah, we’re ready,” J.T. said, and Matt nodded agreement.

      Zach cleared his throat and turned to the first entry.

      “‘September 21st. I’m so scared. I’m on my way to Houston, but I don’t know what I’ll do if my mother’s aunt Clara won’t