Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brantley had been trying hard—so hard—to simply walk away and leave Rebecca to her happiness. What he had wanted to do was declare the woman his, toss her over his shoulder and ride her out of here and away from the man currently beside her.

But he hadn't done that. He'd been a regular fucking gentlemen and had been fully prepared to leave until that jackass had spun him around, demanded his name and then punched him in the face.

Punched him? The bastard had stolen Rebecca and then had the nerve to throw a punch? Brantley spit out a stream of blood, lost all control of his good sense, and attacked.

His fist fell hard across the man's temple, knocking the other man to the ground. Brantley's momentum carried him down with him and the two became a tangle of fists as they rolled around in the dirt.

Whoever this man was, he cleary didn't have a lot of experience in fighting but he was also good and mad and that helped him land several good punches to Brantley's head and gut.

Brantley could hear Rebecca yelling for him to stop but he was far past listening to reason. Her husband had started this—Brantley planned on finishing it. He flipped, the man around so he was on his back and then Brantley straddled him and landed a hard punch that addled the stranger.

Without giving him time to recover, Brantley landed another punch and then another. He was lost in a rage and nothing was going to break through that red haze he was stuck in....nothing except Rebecca's next words.

"Brantley, stop killing my brother!"

Brantley froze and turned his gaze to her. She was red-faced, clearly very angry and her hands were fisted on her hips.

Brother?

Clearly the man on the ground saw an opening with Brantley distraction and his fist caught Brantley hard, sending him flying sideways.

"Johnathon! Dammit, stop fighting!"

Brantley could see Rebecca's foot stomp roughly. "Peter, if anyone else throws a punch, shoot them in the backside."

The large red-haired man nodded. "Will do, ma'am."

Brantley was no longer in the mood to fight. Brother? Johnathon was her brother? Recognition dawned in Brantley's mind. Isabelle was Rebecca's mother's name.. that meant the woman on the porch holding a baby, (a baby that was wailing loudly at this point), was Rebecca's mother and this man was her brother Johnathon and the baby.....

Brantley heard Rebecca choke back a sob. Damn that sound tore at his heart. She whirled around and began to stride away toward the house. Brantley scrambled to his knees, though his head was spinning to badly from Johnathon's sucker punch to rise to his feet.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

Without turning to look at him or pausing in her march towards the house, rebecca threw up her hands. "To feed your damn daughter, you hot-tempered asshole."

The world stopped spinning. Brantley sat there on his knees and stared at the house Rebecca had just disappeared into with Isabelle and the baby....his baby?

How long he remained that way, Brantley couldn't say. Time seemed to have lost all function and meaning. It wasn't until Johnathon's hand was placed in front of his face that Brantley snapped out of his daze.

"Let me help you up."

Brantley growled and knocked the offered hand away before standing. "I don't need any damn help." Brantley wiped his arm across his lip to clean the blood oozing from it. Johnathon's face was a mess as well—Brantley had done a number on his eyes and his nose was bleeding.

Now that Rebecca wasn't around, Brantley was no longer comfortable showing the weakness he'd shown in her prescence. Hell, he hadn't been vulnerable on purpose—it went against everything he'd ever learned in his life. Rebecca brought out a side of him that Brantley hadn't even realized existed.

Damn, he'd cried and he knew Johnathon and Peter  had seen it. The last thing he needed Johnathon thinking was that Brantley was a weak man because of those tears.

"Why the hell did you hit me?" Brantley demanded.

Johnathon pull his bandana from his pocket and began to gingery clean his own face. "Because my sister has spent a long time crying because you were dead. Then you show up here and planned on riding off again?"

Brantley's fists clenched. He hated knowing Rebecca had been mourning him. "I thought you were her husband. I was attempting to be a good man and simply walk away."

"Husband? Hell, she doesn't have a husband anymore."

"Martin?"

"Gone. She divorced him and now all this is hers."

"And that babe?"

Johnathon shook his head. "She'll box my ears good if I don't mind my own business. She's already mad enough that I punched her perfect Brantley in his face."

Her perfect Brantley? He nearly laughed. He was nowhere near perfect but he sure as hell was hers.

Brantley was done talking to Johnathon. He wanted Rebecca and he wanted her now. Turning toward the house he started that way but was stopped when Johnathon grabbed his arm.

Brantley stiffened. "I don't know who the hell you think you are but I ain't the type of man who takes kindly to being manhandled. You either remove your hand from my person or I'll remove it for you."

Quickly, Johnathon let his hand fall. "I just wanted to say something else."

Brantley turned to look at him and raised a brow expectantly. Johnathon cleared his throat and rose to his full height which matched Brantley's. "My sister has cried a lot over you. I don't know why you didn't let her know you were alive and I guess that's between you and her, but I'm gonna warn you. You might be a tough man. You might be an outlaw. But that's my sister and I lost a lot of years with her and she sacrificed a lot to give me a better life. I won't see her hurt anymore. You hurt her and I'll kill you."

Brantley frowned then threw his head back and laughed. This man was actually threatening him? He had to admit he was impressed—amused, but impressed.

"I don't plan on hurting her, Johnathon. You have my word on that. I won't make a murderer out of you."

"And what about you?" Johnathon asked, his eyes narrowing. "Are you a murderer?"

Brantley knew his answer needed to be an honest one. He had to build some form of honest and respectable relationship with Rebecca's brother. So instead of simply trying to scare the man which is what Brantley probably would have done in the past, Brantley met Johnathon's eyes. "When it comes to protecting that woman in there? Hell yes I am."

Without wasting another moment on Johnathon and his questions, Brantley headed for the house. His knees were weak and his legs were shaking but he didn't let that low his strides.

His woman was waiting for him inside...and so was his daughter.

A/N: OKay, okay, i'll stop teasing! Let's get some true Brantley and Rebecca reunions happening in the next chapter!