Man, he was really losing it! No way the Thorpe babe would write him a note. The only envelope she'd send him would probably blow him to smithereens the second he opened it.
Smiling, he opened the vellum envelope and took out a note-card.
"Oh, hell," Travis said, and groaned.
Your presence is requested at
The eighty-fifth birthday celebration
Of Mr. Jonas Baron
Saturday and Sunday, June 14 and 15
At the Baron Ranch
"Espada "
Brazos Springs, Texas
RSVP
The script was handwritten and elegant but the message was a bummer. The sender knew it, too. The note, scrawled beneath the RSVP, made that clear.
"Yes, Travis," it read, "this means you!"
The words were followed by a bold capital C, and the drawing of a tiny heart.
He laughed. Caitlin. His little stepsister was some piece of work. Hard when she had to be, soft when she wanted to be. And, just now, she was going to be tough. This was no invitation, it was notice of a command performance. Just what he wanted, he thought wryly.
The old man, eighty-five? Wow. It was hard to believe. The last time he'd seen his father a year, two years ago, when Catie had conned them all into coming to the ranch for Thanksgiving or Christmas, some sort of holiday, Jonas had looked as tough and spare as ever. He certainly hadn't looked old. But he was; eighty-five years on this earth said it all.
But the party would just have to go on without him. No way was he flying to Texas in the middle of June for the privilege of subjecting himself to a weekend's worth of Jonas's sharp tongue...
A weekend with Catie, and Slade and Gage. A couple of days of reminiscing about the past, of maybe taking a swim down in the creek. Los Lobos style. Travis grinned. Well, Los Lobos style, pre-Catie. In those days, the Baron brothers used to swim bare-assed, proving their manhood by surviving the zillions of bloodthirsty, buzzard-size mosquitoes that swarmed from the banks along the stream.
A weekend like that might just clear his head.
Travis reached for the phone before he could change his mind, hit a speed dial button. Slade answered on the first ring.
"Slade, my man. How you doin'?"
In Boston, Slade Baron plucked a duplicate vellum invitation from the top of his desk and grinned.
"I was doin' fine, until a messenger turned up at my door this mornin'."
Travis chuckled. "Our Catie, efficient as always. She even took the time difference into consideration. I'll bet Gage is lookin' at this bombshell right about now, same as us. "
"Yeah. Well, I'd have called you, anyway. That auction was last night, wasn't it?"
Travis frowned. "So?"
"Whoa, Trav, my man, don't be so testy. "
"I'm not being anything. I just want to discuss this invitation."
"Discuss it all you like, Trav. I ain't goin'."
"I'll just bet your high-priced architectural clients love that down-home talk," Travis said, and grinned.
"They're never lucky enough to hear it, and stop changing the subject. How'd the auction go?"
"It went. Somebody bought me." "Lucky lady. She have a name?" "Alexandra. And that's the end of the story."
"How much did you go for? More than the dude from that other law firm? Was this Alexandra good-lookin'?"
"I went for enough, I beat the pants off the other guy, the lady was okay, if you like the type."
"Oh, my."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, sounds to me as if my big brother struck out for a change."
"Think again, pal," Travis said, tossing off the lie with ease. It was better than having Slade pursue the subject, as he damned well knew he would. His kid brother could be worse than a hound on a trail, when he got started on something.
"Ah. So, she's there with you, huh?"
"You could say that, yeah."
Hell, it wasn't a lie. The Princess was inside his head, wasn't she? As real as a woman could be, without being in a man's arms?
"Trav, you old dog, you."
Travis sighed. "Slade, do you think you could get your mind on something else?"
"You really want to talk about this birthday party, huh? Well, there's nothing to talk about. I'm not going. I already told you that."
"Jonas is coming up on eighty-five. It's a milestone."
"I don't care if it's a century stone. Why would any of us subject himself to a weekend of misery?"
"It won't be so awful."
"Says you."
"There'll probably be a couple of hundred people there. The old boy won't have the time to chew us up. Besides, I hate to disappoint Caitlin."
"What's with you, Trav? It almost sounds as if you're lookin' to get out of town."
Travis shut his eyes. If life had taught him anything, it was that there wasn't much one brother could hide from another.
"Well, I wouldn't mind a change of scene."
"Woman trouble," Slade said, and sighed.
"Yeah. I guess."
"I might have known."
"You? No way," Travis said, with forced lightness. "Gage and I are the ones who know about women, except Gage doesn't really count, considering that he's the only one who's still married."
"You're trying to change the subject, Trav."
Travis gave a little laugh. "Right. I am. And before you ask, trust me, kid. You don't want to hear the gory details. Look, about this party-"
"Listen, I'm sorry, but I'm not going. I really don't have time to go back to Espada right now, okay?"
"That's that, then. Heck, you're too big for me to lock in the feed bin anymore." The brothers chuckled, and then Travis cleared his throat. "Do me a favor, will you? Stay on the line while I phone Gage."
"Two against one won't do it anymore," Slade said, and laughed. "Even if Gage says he's going, with bells on, I'm not changing my mind."
"Fair enough, but say `hello' to him anyway," Travis said, and punched in his other brother's private number.
Gage picked up on the first ring. "Baby," he said gruffly, "Natalie, I love you so-"
Travis laughed. "I love you, too, precious," he said in a high falsetto, "but my husband's starting to get suspicious."
"Travis? Is that you?"
"And me," Slade said lazily. "How are you, bro?"
"I don't believe this! What are you guys doin'? Havin' a reunion out there in California? Or are you both in Boston, livin' it up in that mansion my little brother calls home?"
Travis chuckled. "This three-way brotherly phone call is comin' to you courtesy of the marvels of modern-day science."
"And it's probably the only three-way ever done by telephone," Slade said, with a wicked grin at the pretty young secretary who'd just brought him his coffee. "Thank you, darlin'."
"Don't you darlin' me, pal," Travis said, with a mock growl, "or I'll fly straight to that fancy-pants mansion of yours and beat you up the way I used to, when you were twelve and I was thirteen."
"Uh-huh. You an' who else?"
"Me an' Gage." Travis grinned. "'Course, it'll have to wait until the sun gets up in the sky a piece, so my brain starts workin' right."
All three brothers laughed. Travis punched the pillows behind him and sat back. He felt better already. There was nothing like shared memories, even the bad ones, and the thought was enough to make him remember the reasons for this phone call.
"Okay, guys," he said. "I wish to hell we could avoid the topic but it's time for a reality check."
"The invitation," Slade said.
Gage sighed. "You got yours, too?"
"This morning, bright and early, same as Trav."
"Bright and early is right. Mine arrived at six," Travis said.
"Yeah." Slade laughed. "And interrupted you and your guest. Isn't that right, Trav?"
Travis shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his fist. "Oh, yeah," he said briskly, and choked out a laugh. "There's nothing like being awakened with an invitation to purgatory when you, uh, when you, when you're otherwise involved."
Gage and Slade laughed. "What a tough life he leads," Slade drawled.
"I'd expect some compassion from you, kid," Travis said, and quickly took the conversation elsewhere. "None from Gage, of course. He gave up his freedom years ago." His voice softened. "How's my girl, by the way? You still treating her right, or is she about ready to use that pretty head of hers and ditch you for me?"
"She's fine."
Travis's brows lifted. His brother's tone seemed strained. "You sure?"
"Yeah," Slade said. "You don't sound..."