by Christa Wick
Standing next to Betty Rae, Sage silently vowed that, of all the Turks, this was the one she would avoid the most, even if it meant being outrageously pleasant and helpful to the rest of them.
“I do hope he’s going to put that cowboy hat on,” Betty Rae tittered like a schoolgirl as Adler reached into the back seat. “I swear, the last time he did it at Marla’s cafe, so many women sighed at once you could feel the breeze from it.”
Turning her gaze on Sage, the woman winked.
Sage snapped her mouth shut. She really wasn’t prepared to meet Adler Turk again, especially with another woman offering a running commentary on how sexually attractive the man was. Sage didn’t need an opinion on his looks. She had already made her own assessment.
Even though the strong protective streak that ran through him had been misdirected, it was sexy as hell to see his muscles bunched tight and the dark gaze blazing—or at least it would have been sexy as hell if she hadn’t been terrified. She also liked that he was taller than her, something most men weren’t. And the broad, muscular shoulders gave an intimidating width to his body.
She didn’t even want to think about how the few day’s growth of stubbly beard cast a dangerous shadow on the long face with its strong jaw. If she thought about it again, she would imagine the coarse hairs tickling at her thighs.
Not gonna happen…
“Oh, looks like he has something for you,” Betty Rae whispered.
Sage followed the direction of Betty Rae’s tilted chin just in time to see Adler lifting a hunter green suitcase from the back seat of his truck. The bag had tan piping around the zipper and seams, making it an identical match to the luggage the airport had lost. He reached into the back seat a second time and pulled out the weekender she had also checked in Baltimore.
“Why, he must have left here and gone straight to the airport,” Betty Rae gushed. “Now that’s a man who was raised to take care of family.”
Sage wondered if the comment was a dig at Jake. She looked at the woman, gaze narrowing despite her best effort to keep a neutral expression.
Busy ogling Adler’s backside, Betty Rae didn’t notice.
Shouldering one bag and rolling the other behind him, Adler brought the luggage onto the porch. If he had his cowboy hat with him, he left it in the truck.
“Betty Rae,” he acknowledged, his smile tightening when he turned to Sage. “Miss Ballard.”
“Oh, you step inside dear,” Betty Rae casually ordered. “I’ll hold the screen open for this fine young man then be on my way.”
Mouth gaping anew, Sage narrowly shook her head. She needed both of these people off her porch. She certainly didn’t want Adler inside. No matter how long she remained in Willow Gap, this was one man she would never be comfortable around. All his sex appeal couldn’t erase the morning’s bad manners.
Adler propped the door open with the rolling suitcase then planted a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.
“No worries, Betty Rae. I’ve got this covered. Is that your famous mint elixir Miss Ballard is holding?”
Betty Rae blushed, her smile so big her lips trembled with the effort of keeping it pinned in place. “I’ve got another batch brewing. And I’ll be sure to bring extra to the Women’s Planning Committee meeting on Wednesday.”
“I’ll be sure to sneak in and steal some,” he said, his hand landing softly on her shoulder and steering her toward the steps.
Betty Rae giggled and batted her lashes in his direction, her plump cheeks coloring a pale rose.
Hoping the woman would keep Adler occupied a few seconds more, Sage put the jug of mint water on a bookshelf and pulled her rolling suitcase inside quiet as a mouse. Returning to the threshold, she saw that Betty Rae was gone and Adler stood on the opposite side of the screen door, her weekender still slung over his shoulder and a cocky grin bringing out the laugh lines around the dark blue eyes.
“I bet,” he said, his voice low, “you would just love for me to put this down on the dusty old porch and drive off.”
Her skills in silent communication well-honed over the last decade of her life, she cocked a brow in confirmation. He cocked a brow back, the gesture raising one side of the devilish smile just as the broad chest pushed in her direction.
Spine stiff, Sage scooped up Betty Rae’s mint elixir and carried it into the kitchen. Adler followed, closing the front door and placing Sage’s weekender on the side chair in the living room. By the time she turned around from making space for the jug, Adler stood next to her laptop, the firm lips puckered with fresh amusement.
“If you want to get to know me, Miss Ballard,” he teased. “Just ask.”
Sage turned the laptop around to see a photograph of the man in front of her next to his management bio. She snapped the lid down and stepped past him into the living room, her voice trailing softly in her wake.
“I clicked over from a job site.”
Her hand landed on the weekender. Her fingertips tingled with the need to make sure that its contents were undisturbed, especially the thick envelope with unsent letters to Jake from their mother. At least she had sealed the envelope. Then again, there was nothing written on the outside. He could have simply stopped off at a store or pharmacy and purchased a new one.
“Well, we certainly are the county’s largest employer,” he said, stopping less than an arm’s length from Sage. “If you’re looking for work, I definitely have a position you can fill.”
Her gaze flicked in his direction, but nothing in Adler’s expression suggested he had worked a double meaning into his words. It was just that his natural baritone, so close and subdued for the sake of the toddler sleeping down the hall, added a speculative twist to the offer—at least it had for one fleeting second inside Sage’s sleep-deprived mind. Even thinking he might hold a sliver of THAT kind of interest in her was ridiculous. She could only think of one man who rivaled Adler’s looks but preferred his women fluffy.
Sage swatted her thoughts and Adler’s offer away as if she was chasing a fly.
“I decided to look further afield if I stay any length of time.” She swept her hand at the luggage. “The airport said they were still searching when I called an hour ago. But you already had it by then.”
“I imagine they were still searching,” he snorted. “That airport handles more cargo flights than passenger planes. Most airlines tend to toss misplaced luggage in with whatever is headed to Billings next. You just have to know where to look or you wait a couple days for your carrier to figure it out.”
Arms folded across her chest, Sage stared at the luggage. It was better than looking at Adler Turk.
Too bad out of sight wasn’t out of mind. She could feel his body heat, smell faint strains of the detergent in which his clothes had been washed. The heat magnified the scent, clogging her nose with a mix of magnolias and vanilla. Feeling her bones go soft, she knew she needed him gone. But she had to be polite about it for the sake of Jake and Leah.
Chewing at the soft inside flesh of her bottom lip, Sage mentally rehearsed a few phrases, weighing their level of resolve and civility.
“Now, don’t go blaming the clerk,” Adler coaxed. “He dealt with Dawn more than any of us, saw the Ballard name and figured it was okay to release the bags to me.”
She stared at him from the corner of one eye.
“You were there on other business?”
His hands did a little dance in the air before folding around one another. “No. Jake said your luggage got lost. I figured I needed to atone for the fright I gave you this morning…”
Adler stepped in front of her, decreasing the distance between them to a hand’s length. Sage had to tilt her chin up if she wanted to see his eyes instead of the firm lips as he strained to push out an apology.
“Seeing you in the kitchen, I got a little worked up. My first impression was—”
Hands moving to her hips, Sage finished for him.
“Hysterical?”
The midnight blue g
aze narrowed, so did the mouth. His eyes darted as he seemed to study her face and then he offered a smile that Sage deemed entirely forced.
“Not the word I would have used,” he said, voice vibrating in the air between them. “But if it’s the one you’re most familiar with, Miss Ballard, then, yes, hysterical.”
With that, the visit—and his apology—was over.
4
Sitting across from her niece Siobhan, Lindy Turk finished a row on the blanket she was crocheting. She tugged on the length of yarn running from the end of her hook to the bowl in Siobhan’s lap. The short pull moved the bowl and the young woman looked up.
“Are you here to help me or gossip with your cousin?”
Siobhan threw a wink while a salacious grin lifted the corners of her mouth. Taming the smile, she dutifully turned the bowl she had been bouncing around so that the yarn hole faced Lindy once more. She waited for her aunt to draw a loop through the new row then returned to interrogating Adler.
“Betty Rae said the sister is a real beauty. Said she should be a plus-size model.”
Adler shrugged then took to examining his nails.
“Are you saying you didn’t notice, Adler Turk?” Siobhan prodded.
“I suppose a wasp is beautiful under a microscope, or maybe frozen in amber.” Stretching out an arm, Adler leaned toward Siobhan and delivered a short, delicate stroke to the tip of her nose. “But I prefer butterflies.”
“I’ll ignore how that’s kinda creepy since we’re cousins and just accept the compliment,” she laughed.
Giving a soft pull on the yarn in her lap, Siobhan looked at her aunt. “So, uh, you’re having her over for dinner tomorrow, yeah? I mean, Jake’s been coming every Sunday. You’re not going to let him skip out, right?”
Lindy drew a deep breath before answering, her fingers pausing as she stared down at the blanket. She had set herself a goal of twenty before the weather turned cold. Several new families had moved into Willow Gap in the middle of spring, some of them from warmer parts of the country. It was hard to fathom a Montana winter without living through one. The blankets would make for a nice housewarming gift.
“Well?” Siobhan prodded with another tug on the yarn.
“I’m certainly going to extend the invitation,” Lindy replied.
“Here’s what you do.” Siobhan lifted her hand, all the fingers folded to form a fist. Slowly, she lifted one. “Get Aunt Dotty down.”
Dorothea Turk was seventy-one years old. Never married, she lived in a distant corner of the original Turk homestead tending to her goats and chickens and still chopping her own firewood. The youngest of her generation, she was also the last alive and had doted on her nephews Brody and Boone. Her front door and cupboards were always open to friends and family, but she didn’t come down from her mountain very often.
Siobhan lifted a second finger, continuing to count off the elements of her master plan. “In fact, get Barrett to bring Dotty. There are no fires for him to put out, so he has zero excuses. Plus he lives closer to her.”
“Dotty will be here for Leah’s birthday next week,” Lindy cautioned.
Siobhan shrugged. “No harm giving her the option to come twice in one month. And, if anything goes weird the first time this sister of Jake’s meets the rest of the family, we don’t want it on Leah’s birthday, do we?”
“Point taken,” Lindy answered.
Siobhan lifted a third finger. “And tell Walker there will be a natural blonde coming. That will get him scurrying down from his trees faster than anything.”
A grunt from Adler had Siobhan twisting in her chair, a cackle on her lips. “Oh, yeah, you noticed alright. Wait until you get all moonfaced and I tell Jake’s sister that you compared her to a wasp. I look forward to watching you grovel, cousin dear.”
He grunted again. “I was just expressing surprise that you don’t expect Sutton and Emerson to show up, too.”
“If the government would ever let us know how to contact them on short notice,” she shot back, flipping her dark bangs as a frown smothered her face. “Sutton barely made it to the funeral and was gone less than 12 hours later.”
She waved a hand, batting away memories of her cousin and uncle in their caskets.
“Anyway, with Dotty and Walker and Barrett coming, Jake will have to bring Leah by because those three haven’t seen her since the funeral. Jake leaving his sister home would be awkward, to say the least. It would be admitting he has something he’s still hiding.”
“I suppose you’re also inviting yourself, Monkey Butt,” Adler teased.
“Well, I must make amends.” She held up what was left of the ball of yarn, signaling to Lindy that the end was just a few tugs away. “I can’t do that if I don’t meet her.”
Adler grabbed his hat, his fingers running along the brim before he stood and slapped it once against his thigh. “Hopefully she’ll be more open to your apology than she was to mine.”
Siobhan fluttered her lashes at him. “Everybody loves me.”
“You keep telling yourself that—Monkey Butt.” Crossing over to his mother, he bent down and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’ve got the pens to check on. The last lot needs readied for the summer pasture by midweek to get them bred in time. I’ll make sure I’m back by supper.”
Lindy snagged his hand, gave it a little jiggle.
“I know you want to make sure things keep running smoothly. But Will knows his job and needs to know you trust him just like your daddy did.”
She pulled Adler down to her and cupped the side of his face.
“I need all my children present, love. Don’t try to lose yourself in work. It’s not good for you or the family. It’s not even good for business.”
He nodded, eyes fixed on the half-finished blanket in her lap.
“I just need some fresh air, Mama. I won’t poke around Will too much. Every now and then he actually finds me useful.”
Relenting, Lindy released her hold on her oldest son. Grabbing a fresh ball of yarn, she tossed it at Siobhan to place in the bowl and tie off to the current ball.
Before Adler could clear the room, she called to him one last time.
“Remember what Dawn said. It’s as true for Jake’s sister as it was for Jake.”
Don’t investigate family…
Pulling on a pair of leather work gloves, Adler shook his head at the memory of his baby sister feeding a sealed envelope with Jake Ballard’s name on it into the fireplace. Merrick Jones, a retired cop and friend of the family, had dropped the envelope off at the house for Brody, placing it straight into Dawn’s hands without knowing that Jake was her fiancé.
Using his foot to shut the truck door, Adler tightened the strap on the gloves. He clenched his fist, testing the fit. He fiddled with the straps some more, his thoughts swinging between the Ballard woman and Dawn.
The envelope had arrived a few weeks after Dawn and Jake’s engagement. They’d been dating for eight months. For most of those eight months, Jake had been over to the house every Sunday he had off. New to ranching, he soaked up the conversations and threw in a few greenhorn anecdotes he experienced first hand. He held his own around the table, not an easy thing in the Turk household surrounded by Dawn’s father and five brothers.
But Jake always fell silent when the topic came down to family. All they were ever able to pry out of him was that his mother had been an office worker and his father a regional manager who was often away on business. He lost his father when he was fifteen, his mother when he was twenty-three. With no siblings, that had left him alone in the world.
The family accepted Jake’s reluctance to talk about his past up until the day, after dozens of soft offers, he turned down a direct offer to work for Turk Industries instead of the ranch he was at. The change in jobs would have meant much better pay and benefits and a chance for greater responsibility down the road as a member of the family.
The polite refusal didn’t make sense to Brody, so he called up his fri
end Merrick—and nearly drove Dawn away in the process.
Now, Dawn was dead and Jake had lied about not having any siblings. For all the Turk family knew, Jake was lying about much more than that.
“Just the cowpoke I was looking for!” Will Copely bellowed from where he sat astride a mare, both man and horse slick with sweat.
Seeing the coil of rope Will held and the fact the ranch’s foreman was on horseback, Adler grinned.
“Who’s giving you a problem?”
“Jupiter,” he answered, spitting the name at the dirt. “Got time to get that ornery cuss in the trailer?”
One of the ranch’s breeding bulls, Jupiter’s potency made him famous throughout the state and beyond. Adler’s father had often joked that the beast could impregnate half his harem with just a look and a well-timed snort.
“Cassian decide he needs the help?” Adler asked.
Cassian wasn’t another bull. He was Adler’s cousin, Boone Turk’s second youngest son and the only one of the old man’s kids interested in running cattle operations now that Boone had decided to retire and spend his winters in Tucson.
“Yeah.” Will pulled on the mare’s reins as she drifted toward a cluster of grass. Leaning forward, he stroked the side of her neck until she forgot about the tempting treat. “He probably has to cull Hercules after that coyote attack. Doc assured me that Cassian’s herd is clean, but only about twenty percent of the pasture is pregnant.”
“And Jupiter’s pasture?”
Will grinned. “According to the doc, ninety percent as of Friday morning.”
Adler mirrored the grin, then slapped his thigh. “That old bull might set a record this year.”
Pulling his hand radio from his pocket, Will nodded. He pressed the push-to-talk button. “Royce, slap a saddle on Cannonball. Boss is gonna help me teach Jupiter a thing or two. Have someone get me a fresh one ready while you’re at it.”
Adler hopped back in his truck and drove over to the stable to collect Cannonball, his cutting stallion. Royce, the stable master, had the animal saddled and waiting in the yard.
