by Black, Tasha
Sage cried out and then the world seemed to explode behind her eyelids, shooting stars pulsing in time with her pleasure.
Riggs continued to toy with her until the stimulation was too much and she tugged at his hands, urging him up to her.
He crawled up onto the table top with her. His eyes were shining with wonder, though his jaw was taut with need.
Sage reached down to unbutton his jeans.
He pushed her hands away gently.
“Don’t you want...?” she hardly had to finish the question. What he wanted was clear by his expression and the outrageously large bulge in his pants.
But he shook his head.
“That was incredible,” he murmured. “It was all I need.”
“It was not all you need,” she protested.
“It is all I need for now,” he said calmly, resting on his side beside her.
He placed a hand on her chest, and closed his eyes, as if he were trying to feel her heart beat.
“I have never felt such happiness,” he whispered.
She put her hand over his and smiled. She felt happy too. But also loose-limbed and sleepy.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asked, chuckling.
She nodded.
“Why don’t you rest a little?” he asked. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to finish the sign.”
“It does need to dry before we letter it,” she said over a tremendous yawn.
He leaned down to kiss her forehead.
The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the pleasant sensation of his hand stroking her hair.
12
Riggs
Later that night, Riggs looked across the candlelit dinner table at his beloved mate.
She was smiling and laughing with Tansy and Arden, but he knew that some part of her was sharing the happiness he felt, a happiness that was theirs alone.
He had finished painting the sign while she napped in the mess hall. Then he had woken her and they had walked through the woods back to the truck.
Sage drove back to the farm as Riggs sang love songs to her that made her giggle because they were from 80s movies. But it was good-natured giggling and after all, Riggs had had the time of his life. When she joined in the songs he knew things were going to be okay.
More than that, they were going to be wonderful.
They arrived at home to find that the others had cooked dinner. It was not as delicious as Sage’s meals, but it was tasty. And Otis had made a peach crumble for dessert.
“So you guys really hung up fifty flyers today?” Tansy asked, sounding impressed.
“Yes,” Sage said. “And I have to give Riggs most of the credit. He really knows how to talk to people.”
Burton elbowed Riggs.
Riggs smiled and looked down at his plate.
“So what kind of flyers are these?” Arden asked.
“Just a simple thing letting people know where to come and our hours and all,” Tansy said. “Same ones Grandma Helen used for years.”
“Actually…” Sage began.
“You didn’t?” Tansy exclaimed.
Sage shrugged.
“Show me right now,” Tansy said.
“What’s this?” Arden asked.
“Sage is a natural marketer,” Tansy said. “I’ve been begging her to revamp the farm’s image, but she insists she’s an accountant.”
“I am literally an accountant,” Sage protested.
“No more talking, I want to see the flyer,” Tansy said. “Please don’t tell me you hung all of them up.”
“There are a few more in the truck,” Riggs said, getting up.
Sage gave him a look that told him he wasn’t supposed to have shared that news.
“Don’t get up,” Arden told him. “I’ll grab them.”
She was halfway to the door before he could protest, so he sat back down.
Sage smiled at him from across the table and his heart ached with joy. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.
The front door slammed open.
Everyone turned to see Arden standing in the doorway looking shell-shocked.
“Arden,” Drago said, leaping to his feet.
“I think you need to come outside,” Arden said. Her voice was tight.
Everyone got up. Riggs waited for Sage at the door. His protective instincts were kicking into overdrive. He didn’t like the idea of her going out to see whatever had made Arden’s face go pale.
But the look of determination on his mate’s face told him he need not waste his efforts trying to keep her away.
They followed Arden and Drago across the front porch and down to the gravel driveway, with Tansy and Burton bringing up the rear.
“Look,” Arden said.
She was pointing at the tractor, which was parked close to the truck.
Something was wrong with its tires. They appeared to have melted into the ground.
“The tires are melted,” Drago breathed, echoing Riggs’s thought.
“No,” Arden said. “They’re flat. Or I should say, they’re slashed.”
“No,” Tansy breathed.
Riggs noticed something in the mud beside the drive. He bent to take a closer look.
It was footprints, but something about them was off. There was an indentation between the big toe and the rest of the toes on each print. Riggs knew he’d seen something like this before, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Ninjas,” his brother Drago shouted, making the connection before Riggs could.
Of course. How could he have missed it? Everyone knew that ninjas wore special boots that left this type of mark.
“What?” Sage asked, moving to join him.
“Oh, yeah, those are definitive,” Burton agreed.
“This is very bad,” Drago said. “We must get our mates to safety and then prepare for battle.”
“What are you talking about?” Arden demanded.
“This farm is under attack by ninja warriors,” Drago announced.
Riggs’s heart was beating a mile a minute. He wrapped a protective arm around Sage and scanned their surroundings.
But the setting sun cast shadows everywhere, it was nearly impossible to tell the difference between a man and a shrub in this light.
Besides, everyone knew ninjas were masters of deception. There could be ten of them here now, hiding themselves in the trees and grass, ready to spring forth into action at any moment.
“What could you have done to get yourselves on the wrong side of ninjas?” Burton worried out loud.
“Okay, enough already,” Tansy said. “I think I understand what’s going on.”
“You do?” Sage asked.
“There are tons of ninjas in the movies, especially in ‘80s movies,” Tansy said patiently. “But ninjas are not really a problem anymore, not for hundreds of years. I mean, they never really were. At least not in rural Pennsylvania.”
“Then how do you explain the prints, Tansy?” Drago asked, not looking even a little bit convinced.
“The person who left those prints knows about ninjas the same way you do, from the movies,” Tansy said. “It’s just some idiot in a karate suit.”
“We know what we must do then,” Riggs said, determined to make things right.
“What?” Sage asked, looking mystified.
“We’ll find his dojo,” Riggs said.
“And we’ll challenge him!” Drago finished.
“Oh, no, that’s not how it’s done,” Tansy said, suppressing most of a smile.
“We know how this is done,” Burton said.
“Look, whoever it is, they are just trying to scare us,” Tansy said.
“Trying to sabotage us,” Sage suggested.
“The same person who vandalized the sign?” Riggs wondered out loud.
“What do you mean vandalized the sign?” Tansy asked.
“Oh, no,” Riggs said, realizing that he had just given away his secret with S
age. “I’m so sorry, Tansy. I didn’t want to upset you. But someone vandalized the peach picking sign.
He looked to his mate and she shrugged.
He was grateful that she wasn’t mad.
But Tansy was weeping.
“Do not worry, Tansy,” Riggs said, feeling terrible. “Sage and I have fixed the sign.”
But Tansy didn’t even look up.
“Tansy, are you okay?” Burton asked.
“I noticed something too,” she said, her words muffled by her hands, which still covered her face.
They all waited.
Tansy wiped her cheeks and looked up at the little group.
“This morning when I got up I found a dead rabbit on the steps,” she said. “Cleo leaves me a mouse or a mole sometimes, but this seemed too big to be one of her presents. And its throat was slashed, probably by something more powerful than her claws. I didn’t want to upset anyone…”
She put her hands to her face again and Burton wrapped his arms around her.
Sage met Riggs’s eye from across the circle of friends.
She wore a mask of fierce determination that sent a shiver down his spine.
Riggs glanced around again. If the ninja was watching and saw that look, he was probably shaking in his funny little boots.
13
Clem
Clement Peterson came in the front door whistling and threw his hat on the kitchen table along with the six-pack of beer he’d bought on the way home.
Today was a special day, so he’d splurged on the good stuff from the fancy organic grocer in town.
He opened the fridge to see if there was anything good in there.
There wasn’t.
“You get beer?” Gretchen yelled from the living room.
He could hear Nailed It playing in the background. All of his sister’s favorite shows were ones where there was a chance for people to get humiliated.
“Yeah,” he called back to her.
Normally he tried to get home before Gretchen. He liked having control of the remote and the good spot on the couch.
But tonight he was glad she was there. He had been dying to tell her everything he’d done.
He snatched the six-pack off the table and headed out to join her.
“Ha, I can’t believe you got that girlie stuff again,” Gretchen said, eying the beer as he placed it on the coffee table.
“It’s not girlie,” he told her. “It’s called Framboise, and it’s from Belgium.”
“I rest my case,” she said. “Besides, anything that comes from that frou-frou store in town is all organic, free-range bullshit.”
He scowled at her.
“It has raspberries on the label,” she added, her contempt not preventing her from grabbing the first bottle out of the pack and popping the top against the edge of the coffee table to open it.
“Men eat raspberries,” Clem said, opening his own can. “Besides, this is kind of a celebration.”
“Oh yeah?” Gretchen took her eyes off the beer and straightened up, paying attention to him for once.
“What did you do?” Her mischievous eyes flashed with glee.
He took a big swallow, building her anticipation a little.
“Well, first thing this morning I shot a rabbit, slit its throat, and left it on their doorstep,” he said, grinning at the thought of one of those girls waking up to find it there.
“Gross,” Gretchen said. “Okay.”
“And I painted on their pick-your-own-peaches sign,” he said.
“What do you mean you painted on it?” she asked.
“I turned ‘Martin’s Bounty’ into ‘Martian’s Booty’,” he said, snickering.
“Okay, I get it,” Gretchen said. “I guess.”
“And I went over around dinner time and slashed the tires of their tractor,” he added, waiting for her reaction.
She nodded, but way less enthusiastically than he’d expected.
Maybe she would have been more impressed if she had seen how cool he’d looked decked out in all the ninja gear he’d accumulated over the years. Gretchen had always told him it was a waste of money, but she no idea how quiet he’d been in his tabi boots, or how easily he’d punctured the tractor tires with his tanto dagger.
No appreciation for the finer things in life – that was her problem.
“And then I cut the brake line on it,” he said.
That had been his finishing touch. Cutting the brakes on someone’s actual car might have been going too far. But all that was going to happen with the tractor was that one of them was going to end up driving it into a ditch, or right into the cornfield. That would be epic.
“That’s a little better,” Gretchen said, raising one eyebrow. “What else?”
“What do you mean what else?” he spluttered. “I barely had time to do anything else between that and work.”
“What the hell, Clem?” Gretchen hollered, slapping him with a throw pillow. “This isn’t some senior prank. This is serious. There’s a lot of money at stake.”
Typical Gretchen.
“I’m in charge now,” he stormed, totally losing his cool. “You fucked up with the bees and dad put me in charge.”
“You may be in charge, but you need to step it up or we won’t get rid of them in time,” Gretchen spat. “That guy wants to start construction before winter.”
The phone rang, interrupting their argument.
Gretchen looked at Clem like she was the Queen of Sheba and picking up the landline was beneath her. Whatever.
Clem got up and grabbed the receiver off the cradle.
“Petersons’,” he said into it.
“It’s Dolly,” the woman on the other end said. “Put your daddy on.”
It was funny, all his life Dolly Strickland had seemed like Mrs. Santa Claus to Clem. He never suspected she had a heart of ice.
“He’s at Rotary,” Clem replied. “But, uh, I can report if you want.”
There was a momentary silence.
“Put her on speaker,” Gretchen yelled.
“Yes, dear, put me on speaker so I can hear what your sister has to say,” Dolly agreed, sounding relieved that there was another Peterson around for her to talk with.
Clem might not be a big talker, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get down to business.
He put her on speaker anyway, then placed the receiver on the coffee table and sat next to his sister on the sofa.
“Roman Panchenko called me today about his space casino,” Dolly said, sounding a little shaken. “Do I have news for him?”
Clem swallowed, suddenly getting his sister’s point about his plans being small time.
“I started with some vandalism, intimidation, a bit of property destruction,” Clem said. “I didn’t get caught either.”
“Did they even notice it?” Dolly asked. “I didn’t see any police activity over there today.
Damn. He hadn’t thought of that.
“Listen,” Dolly said. “I told Roman Panchenko personally that your family would help make the land available for his alien-themed casino.”
Clem swallowed. Rumor had it that the Panchenko guy was linked to the mob out in Glacier City. He was no one to be messed with.
“I don’t like to think about what could happen if you fail to follow through,” Dolly said, echoing his own fears. “Do you?”
Clem wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Of course not,” Gretchen said, breaking Clem’s silence. “We’re gonna think bigger.”
“The key with them is money,” Dolly said. “We want to make sure no one goes near those peaches of theirs. Then they won’t be able to afford to hold onto the place and they’ll have to sell.”
“How do we do that?” Clem asked, mystified.
“What does everyone in this town hate?” Dolly asked. “Figure that out, and find a way to link it to their peaches and you’ve got it all lined up.”
“What does everyone hate?” Clem echoed.
“I dunno,” Gretchen said. “This place is getting so fruity lately. Gluten? Tree nuts? Any crap they don’t sell at that fancy grocery store.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Clem said.
“No,” Dolly said. “No, I think you’re on to something here. Gluten-free, free range, non-GMO…”
“What the hell is a GMO?” Clem asked.
“It’s perfect,” Dolly said reverently. “GMOs are genetically modified organisms. If we spread that rumor, it will check out. Those peaches over on Martin’s Bounty bloom way earlier than anywhere else around here.”
“But their peaches have always ripened early,” Clem said. “It’s one of the reasons they’ve always been such big seller.”
“And this year, it will be the reason they fail. Remember, it doesn’t have to be true,” Dolly said slowly, as if he were stupid. “It just has to be enough to scare people away.”
“Holy shit,” Gretchen breathed. “Clem, when we sabotaged the water there were no blooms on those trees. And now there are ripe peaches?”
Clem thought about it. She was right. That did seem too fast. He stared at her, his mind buzzing a mile a minute to work it out.
“How did they do that?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Dolly said.
“It just has to scare people away,” Gretchen said, her eyes lighting up with pleasure.
Clem was starting to think he wasn’t going to get a chance to use his grapping hook after all.
14
Riggs
Riggs paced the floor of the barn after dinner.
He could feel Drago and Burton’s eyes on him, their concern palpable.
He wanted to obey Sage’s wishes and handle things in the way she thought was right.
But he knew what had to be done.
“That’s it,” he said, stopping suddenly. “I’m going.”
“Where?” Drago asked.
“I saw a sign for the town karate studio when I was in the village today,” Riggs said. “There’s a class going on right now at the community center. I’m going to find the person who did this. And I’m going to challenge him.”
