A Match Made in Texas- By Arlene James Page 0,71

hearing what people don’t say.” He winked at Kaylie, adding, “I hope you like to eat Mexican. Sis always cooks Mexican when the cowboy comes around.”

The cowboy? Thoroughly confused, Stephen watched Kaylie throw her arms around her brother, crying, “Oh, Morgan, I love you!”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he chortled, hugging her hard enough to lift her feet from the floor. Releasing her, he slung an arm around Stephen’s shoulders. “Now, come on,” he said. “Let’s see if we can stuff you and that leg into my car.”

“But—” Stephen glanced over his shoulder at the aunts, who were just now filing into the foyer with Hubner.

“Oh, no,” Morgan declared cheerfully, “they can’t help you now.” He waved, and Odelia fluttered a black hanky at them. Morgan whirled and started off, the sides of his coat flapping.

“But where are we going?” Stephen asked, struggling to keep up.

“Why, to beard the old lion in his den,” Morgan answered, never once looking back.

It was a near thing. Morgan drove a decidedly un-professorial, starlight-blue sports car, and the only way Stephen could get in was to balance on his crutches and slide in legs first, twisting and folding his torso until he was wedged into the seat. Morgan had to open the sunroof and stick the crutches down through the top. Once behind the wheel, he acted like a teenager with a new license, whipping around corners, grinding gears and zipping through tight spaces. Along the way, he explained that things had “come to a head” between father and daughter, and Hubner had “called in reinforcements,” meaning Kaylie’s three older brothers, to “help the girl see reason.”

“As if,” Morgan added, “she’s ever seen anything else. I think she’s a little too reasonable, if you ask me.”

Stephen wasn’t sure what that meant or if he even liked Morgan speaking of her that way. “She’s just trying to do the best she can by everyone.”

“Wouldn’t be Kaylie if she didn’t,” Morgan said. “Brace yourself. We’re here, and Bayard has already arrived.”

Here was an older white frame house with red roof, red shutters, redbrick wainscoting, detached garage and a tree-shaded front yard. Morgan parked on the street at the curb behind a full-sized, silvery green sedan.

Stephen passed the crutches to him through the sunroof and was still trying to get himself out of the vehicle when Kaylie and Hubner turned into the drive in her boxy little convertible. She rushed to help, Hubner grousing that it surely didn’t take both Morgan and her to get Stephen out. It did, though, for he had to come out head and shoulders first, literally crawling his way up and onto his feet and then the crutches.

“I’ll get Bayard to take you home in his sedan later,” Kaylie promised, walking him up to the dark red door. Hubner and Morgan apparently entered through a back way.

“And Bayard is?” he asked as she opened that door, revealing a small, dark foyer screened from the living area by a wall of carved wood spindles.

“My oldest brother.”

She slipped past him, pushing the door wide, but he caught her around the waist, his crutch digging into his already sore armpit.

“Wait. Who’s this cowboy you cook Mexican food for?”

“That,” said a stern male voice, “would be me.”

Stephen looked up at six feet two inches of boots, snug jeans and well-filled-out chambray shirt. His big, thick hands parked at his waist, the cowboy in question lifted a heavy, sandy brown eyebrow, silently challenging Stephen’s right to so much as touch Kaylie. Stephen looked at that hard, set face with its dimpled chin and knew he’d finally met his match. All right, he thought, resisting the urge to toss aside his crutches, let the battle begin.

“Chandler!” Kaylie cried, launching herself.

“Hey, sprite!” Catching her up, Chan spun her around before setting her feet to the floor again—as far away from Stephen as possible. Stephen frowned at that.

“I didn’t see your truck.”

“It’s got a four-horse trailer hitched to it, so I had Kreger drop me.”

“Kreger is Chandler’s partner,” Kaylie explained to Stephen, “both in a ranch outside of town and the rodeo arena, where they compete in team roping, among other events.” She turned back to her brother. “Are you in town for long?”

He eyed Stephen and rumbled, “Long as it takes.”

Stephen smiled and said conversationally, “You know, I’m not as helpless as I look.”

“Oh, stop,” Kaylie admonished, stepping to Stephen’s side and sliding an arm across his back to urge him forward. “This isn’t a macho-man contest. Behave yourselves, both of you.