a bitch tried to slit Jane’s throat, she had a spine of steel.”
“That’s true,” Niall admitted. “Jane’s a gutsy woman.”
“Looks like you both got lucky,” Conall said after a minute.
“Oh, yeah,” Niall said softly.
Duncan grunted agreement. Gaze resting on Conall, he said, “You’ve never been tempted?”
Words rose automatically to his tongue. Not happening. That’s what he’d always said, wasn’t it? But those familiar words remained unspoken. It was scary as hell, but for the first time in his life, he could feel the pull. He understood why a man might want only one woman. Kids.
“Hasn’t happened yet,” he finally said, then almost cursed at the way his head turned when he heard the screen door opening. Lia had never looked more beautiful to him than she did today, wearing cut-offs, tank top and athletic shoes, a sheen of sweat making her glow. She emerged, followed by Jane, and he quickly turned back, but too late. Heat ran across his cheeks when he met his brothers’ interested gazes.
“She’s a beautiful woman,” Duncan observed, voice pitched to be sure it didn’t reach the women.
Conall muttered without meaning to be heard.
“What’s that?” Niall asked, leaning forward.
“Stuff it.”
“She involved with anyone?” Duncan asked quietly.
Conall hadn’t asked her. Hadn’t dared. But he thought she would have said. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d have explored his bare chest with such curiosity and hunger if she had a lover.
“No.” He frowned slightly, hardly aware he’d turned his head enough to watch her and Jane descend the steps and start across the grass toward the children. “I get the feeling she thinks no guy would want her as long as she’s determined to keep fostering.” He glanced at Niall. “She admired the way you’ve taken on Rowan’s two kids. She seemed…surprised.” Interesting; he hadn’t realized at the time that she was, but he knew now that’s what he’d seen on her face.
Seems the two of them had something in common: a lack of faith in their fellow man. Or woman.
Same cause, of course. Some wounds never healed.
Conall frowned. Desmond had lost his father, but he would grow up secure, knowing he was loved. So would Anna and Fiona. Rowan and Niall’s baby, when it came along. Conall identified one of those strange emotions that had been pressing against his breastbone as if making a place for itself, even though he still didn’t know what to call it. Faith? Belief? Not in God, but in a truly loving family. The one thing he’d been most cynical about. Probably it shouldn’t have surprised him that Duncan the perfect had been able to form a family like that. After all, he was the man who would never fail anyone who depended on him. But Niall had managed the trick as well.
And then there was Lia, giving her all to frightened kids who had no one else.
He moved restlessly, not wanting to think about this.
Neither of his brothers had said anything, but both were watching him.
“We going to finish this game or not?” he asked, his edgy mood coming out in his voice.
Niall rose from his chair, whacked Conall on the back and called, “Hey, team! Let’s get back on that field and prove what the MacLachlans are made of.”
A sharp cramp of envy disconcerted Conall. He was the only MacLachlan on his team. And, damn it, for a split second he wanted to change that.
He laughed and raised his voice. “Come on, gang, let’s keep kicking their butts. Seems to me I’m up to bat.”
Duncan snorted and said, “Guess I’d better step in as catcher so Niall could put some heat on those pitches.”
Conall snorted. “Does he have any?”
The boys had gotten close enough to hear the exchange. They hooted, and Desmond stuck his chin out. “My dad’s a good pitcher.”
Niall pulled him close for a one-armed hug.
More of that funny feeling Conall didn’t want to think about. He grabbed a bat and called, “Better get ready to visit the cow pasture again, Jane.”
Everyone got into position. Conall took a few practice swings then stepped up to the plate, cocky, ready for his brother’s first pitch.
CHAPTER NINE
CONALL HAD NEVER been obsessed with a woman before. He thought about Lia as he was waiting for sleep, and first thing in the morning. He could hardly wait to see her. The sound of her voice coming from another room was as tactile as a touch. Every other day, when it was Jeff’s turn to eat dinner downstairs, Conall felt resentful and