strong scent of hay. The clouds rolling in from the west shadowed the mountain, and the winter wheat he'd planted would welcome the rain.
In the kitchen, someone would be cooking, he mused, glancing over his shoulder to check the progress of the hay wagon. It wouldn't be Rebecca. She'd be playing with one of the babies. And when he walked in, covered with hay dust, she'd look over and smile.
She had the prettiest smile.
By the time they were hauling bales from wagon to barn, Shane had convinced himself that Devin was not only out of line, he was off base.
'So.' Rafe took a break, gulping down some of the ice water from the cooler just inside the barn. 'I didn't get a chance to talk to Rebecca. How's the ghostbusting?'
'She's into it.' Sharp prickles of dry hay poked through his work gloves as Shane heaved a bale. 'She gets pretty intense about something that's just a hobby.'
'Hey, some people play golf,' Jared commented, loading the hay lift.
'At least there's a purpose to that. Get the little ball in the hole, win the game.'
'It's a puzzle to her,' Jared added. 'She strikes me as a woman who likes to solve puzzles, find answers.'
'Maybe I'll buy her a jigsaw puzzle,' Shane muttered.
'Bothers you, huh?' Amused, Rafe put his back into the work again. 'Hear any chains rattling lately? Any disembodied moans?'
'Kiss my butt.'
'How's it going otherwise?' Jared asked, with a vague thought to defusing an argument. Rain was beginning to patter on the ground, and they still had work to do. 'Hasn't been a woman living in the house since Mom died. Cramping your style?'
A smile curved Shane's lips. 'Nope.'
'Well, hell.' Catching Shane's look, Rafe set down the bale he'd just lifted. 'You're sleeping with her.'
'What am I, wearing a sign?'
'Can't you keep it in your pants for once?' In disgust, Rafe sliced his baling hook down. 'Regan feels responsible for her.'
Guilt and fear only inflamed a ready temper. 'Why the hell should anybody feel responsible? She's a grown woman.'
'You going to get that last load up here?' Devin called from the loft.
'Shut up.' Shane spared him a glance before he turned on Rafe. 'It's none of his business, it's none of your business.'
'Anything connected to Regan's my business. And Rebecca's connected. What do you know about her? Do you know how she was brought up? How she spent all her time in classrooms, with tutors, in boarding schools?'
'What difference does it make?' Irritated because he didn't know, knew far from enough, Shane ignored the rain, the work, and let out the frustration on his brother. 'She's got a brain, she uses it.'
'That's all she was ever allowed to use. She wouldn't stand a chance if you aimed for her.'
'What's the problem here?' Devin stepped out into the rain. 'Are we going to get this load in before it's soaked, or just leave it?'
'Back off,' Shane snarled at Rafe. 'And stay out of my personal life.'
Jared sighed. 'Looks like we're going to leave it.'
'This about Rebecca?' Interested now, Devin plucked out a spear of hay and gnawed on it. 'We should've figured he'd hit on her.'
'1 didn't hit on her.'
'That's bull. She'd barely unpacked her bags and you were stalking her in my kitchen. I should've punched you out right then.'
Shane's eyes narrowed. 'Try it now. You've got it all figured out, don't you? Now that you've got your pretty wife and your pretty kids. All of you.' There was more anger than he'd realized boiling inside him. 'I live my life my way, not yours. So stick your advice and your judgments and anything else you've got up your—'
From the kitchen window, Rebecca watched the four men. She was puzzled. At first it had seemed they were having some sort of serious discussion-some logistical problem with the hay, she'd concluded. Then it had looked as though an argument were brewing.
'Something's going on out there,' she commented, and Savannah, an infant over her shoulder, wandered to the window.
'Oh, they're going to go at it.'
'At what?'
'Each other, what else?' She shook her head and called to Regan and Cassie, who were busy at the stove. 'Our boys are about to rumble.'
'Fight?' Shocked to the core, Rebecca goggled. 'You mean they're going to fight with each other? But why?'
Regan walked to the kitchen door, opened it. 'It's just something they like to do from time to time.'
'Do you think it's early enough to stop it?' Cassie wondered out loud.
'We can— No,' Regan finished as the first blow was launched. 'Too late.'
With horrified eyes, Rebecca watched Shane's fist streak out and plow into Rafe's face. An instant later, they were rolling in the dirt. 'But— But—'
'I'll make sure there's plenty of ice.' Cassie turned away from the battle and went to the refrigerator.
'Why doesn't somebody stop them?' Regan demanded. 'Jared and Devin are just standing there.'
'Not for long,' Savannah predicted.
As if on cue, Devin reached down. If his intention was to break it up, he failed miserably. Now there were three men wrestling in the mud the rain had churned up.
'This is ridiculous.' By the time Rebecca reached the kitchen door, Jared had joined in the fray.
She couldn't see how any of them could tell who was fighting whom. She certainly couldn't. All she saw were arms and fists and bodies. All she heard were grunts and curses.
Outside of movies and television, she'd never actually seen anyone brawl. It was messier than she'd imagined, and certainly looked more painful.
'Isn't one of you going to do anything? They're your husbands.'
'Well.' Slowly Savannah ran a hand up and down Miranda's back. 'We could put some money on it. I'll take Jared for five—it's a matter of loyalty.'
'Five it is,' Regan agreed. 'Cassie?'
'All right—but Devin was up half the night. Ally's teething.'
'No handicapping,' Savannah declared. 'Straight odds. You want to take Shane, Rebecca? Seems fair.'
Totally baffled, she stared at the women. 'Why,
As Rebecca marched out, Savannah slanted a look at Regan. 'To borrow Bryan's phrase, she's really stuck on him, isn't she?'
'I'm afraid so. It worries me.'
'I think she's good for him.' Cassie joined them at the door. 'I think he's good for her, too. Both of them need someone, even if they haven't figured it out yet.'
The only thing Rebecca figured as she marched toward the hay barn was that these four grown men— brothers, no less—were absolute fools.
By the time she neared the battlefield, she was soaked, her hair plastered to her head like a cap. She shook her head at the sight that met her eyes. The dogs had joined the party, racing around, occasionally leaping onto rolling bodies, then dancing away with delighted barks.
'Stop it.' It halted the dogs, but not the men. Fred and Ethel sat politely, tongues hanging out, while the men continued to pummel each other. 'I said stop this, right now.'
Jared made the mistake of glancing over at the order and caught an elbow sharply on the chin. He retaliated by ramming a fist into the nearest belly.
Filled with righteous indignation, Rebecca slapped her hands on her hips. She didn't just hear grunts and curses now. They were laughing. Four baboons, she decided, laughing while they beat on each other.
