Adler James

by Christa Wick

  Next was Adler’s brother Walker. Of all the Turk brothers present, he wore his hair the longest, which still wasn’t very long at all, maybe three fingers in width, the locks curling to make it look shorter. The dark coloring had natural streaks of light where the sun had touched it. Jake had told Sage beforehand that Walker ran a timber company, logging land that had been in Lindy’s family for generations.

  Barrett was the last one introduced, Adler mumbling both brothers’ names. Barrett was a smoke jumper, a wildland firefighter who parachuted into remote locations with his team. He had picked up the habit of jumping out of planes in the Army on a six-year enlistment.

  Dinner wasn’t ready yet. Sage started toward the kitchen to see if she could help, but Aunt Dotty called her back.

  “Don’t leave me with these heathens, child. If there’s help needed, one of the men can do it.”

  Her voice matched the pixie cut, high and airy. Leaning on Adler, she made him walk her over to the fireplace then shooed him away.

  Being as it was nearly summer, there was no fire in the hearth. Instead, it was the leaf-shaped copper plaques climbing up from the mantle and spreading along the wall that held Dotty’s attention.

  Sage had been too busy looking at unfamiliar faces to notice the artwork. Once spotted, it was something she would never forget.

  Dotty waved her closer. “They won’t let me rope cows anymore, so I’ve become the senior historian for the family.”

  She pointed a shaking finger at the uppermost leaf, its distance making the text engraved upon it unreadable.

  “Brigid Mac Tuirc, the first Turk in America,” she said. “Fever took her in New Orleans when my great grandfather Corryn was only eight.”

  She pointed to the next leaf down. “That’s him. No father that anyone knew off, himself included.”

  “You mean…”

  Sage couldn’t bring herself to say the word. She’d heard it too often in her life. Just thinking it made her cringe inside.

  “A bastard boy, yes.” Dotty lifted her arms in the air and took a few circling steps. “And all this is part of his legacy.”

  Lowering her arms, she threw a wink and pointed at the leaf next to Corryn’s. “That one is Sarah, his mail order bride.”

  Sage felt the blood leaving her face and limbs, the end of her nose suddenly cold and the fingertips tingling. Was Dotty saying the founder of the Montana Turks had bought his wife?

  The old woman bumped her elbow lightly against Sage’s ribs.

  “That’s right,” she crowed. “Want to know the kicker?”

  Sage glanced over her shoulder at the faces around the table. Adler had left the room, Barrett looked mildly amused and Walker appeared to be respectfully schooling his face into one of interest despite how many times he must have heard Dotty’s stories.

  Jake, on the other hand, looked miserable.

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” Sage answered. “What’s the kicker?”

  “She was a suffragette from Chicago! A mail order suffragette—could you ever imagine such a thing?”

  Dotty laughed until she started coughing and had to be led to her chair near the head of the table. When all the coughing stopped, Dotty leaned toward Sage.

  “She wrote a book, Sarah did. Wrote lots of them, actually. Pamphlets and treatises and the occasional full-scale tirade. But she only wrote one novel, something she adapted from her diary. Of course, all the racy bits were removed for public consumption.”

  Unable to stop herself, Sage lifted a brow and asked, “Racy bits?”

  Another fit of laughter overtook the old woman.

  “I imagine that’s just family legend,” Sage said, trying to cover her embarrassment.

  Dotty shook her head. “Nope, I have copies of the diary. Nothing scandalous about it. A good husband knows how to make his wife happy, not just himself. And Corryn Turk sounds like he was a very good husband indeed.”

  Sage turned beet red as Adler came in from the kitchen and plopped down on the seat at the head of the table.

  “Ten minutes at the—” Adler stopped, his attention locked on Sage’s cheeks. He leaned forward, a hint of concern showing in the way his head tilted. “Are you okay, Miss Ballard?”

  She offered a vague nod, her gaze moving off him to the bottom row of leaves on the wall then all the way up to his predecessor Corryn. Her attention swept down and to her left where Jake sat with Leah near the opposite corner of the long table.

  She could only imagine what her brother had felt staring up at the copper tree his first time, the collective weight of six generations crushing down on him. At that point, Jake had already started turning his back on Sage, changing his phone number and contacting her by email once every few months. At the same time, he had been among people to whom family appeared to mean everything.

  Closing her eyes for a second, Sage threw a blanket over the past. When she looked around the table once more, she caught Adler studying her face.

  Siobhan came in with two of the side dishes, rescuing Sage from further attention. He jumped up, bid Sage, Dotty and Leah to stay seated and jerked his head in a silent command for his brothers and Jake to follow him.

  They disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with the rest of the food and their mother.

  A dozen strong scents overpowered Sage’s nose. Her mouth began to water in response. She inhaled deeply, her focus on the food shattered as Adler leaned across her shoulder to put a dish on the table just as she breathed in.

  Heavens, he smelled sinfully good. With all the other odors competing for her attention—the meat, gravy and other sauces, strawberries and more—all Sage could focus on was Adler.

  It was bizarre, really. He was a mix of sweet hay and apples, the wider outdoors on a sunny day and just the right amount of sweat. He made her want to bite softly at his shoulder. It was the first time she could remember ever reacting to a man’s scent with a hot rush of appetite.

  Throat suddenly parched, she reached for a quick drink of water as Adler took his seat at the head of the table. When she put the glass down, he offered her his hand, just as he offered it to Dotty on his other side.

  Siobhan held out her hand to Sage and to Barrett, everyone holding onto someone else. Leah looked like a little angel, her expression a picture of reverence as she closed her eyes and bowed her head.

  Lindy led the prayer. Sage couldn’t focus on the train of words. Something buzzed in her skull and her heart was pounding too hard and fast with Adler holding her hand.

  But she knew the exact second when the word “family” was spoken because Adler gave an involuntary squeeze. Sage cast a side glance at him, but he kept his head bowed, his eyes closed.

  As soon as Lindy finished and everyone had murmured “amen,” Adler pulled his hand away.

  Sage felt like he took part of her with him. A few minutes later, she had other reasons for wishing the prayer hadn’t ended. With the dishes still making their way around the table, a subtle interrogation began.

  “I heard you might be looking for work,” Lindy started.

  “I was considering it,” Sage answered, careful not to look at Jake. She hadn’t discussed how long she would stay with him even though the duration of her visit depended entirely upon his wishes.

  “You don’t have a regular position in…”

  “Maryland,” Sage filled in. “No. I do agency work and some private contracting. Mostly I modify off the shelf software for companies and do some programming in Excel for custom spreadsheets. I’ve been able to be picky about when I do agency work because of the side contracts.”

  “And you can’t do that remotely?” Adler asked.

  Her gaze flicked in his direction then quickly away. Returning her attention to Lindy, she shook her head.

  “No. For security purposes, I pick up data sets from the client and personally return the data sets and finished product. The projects can last for months and it’s usually a couple of years before I w
ork for the same customer again unless they are going through an expansion of some sort or updating old processes.”

  “So, no specific job to return to and no…partner,” Lindy continued after Sage had taken a bite of roast beef.

  Wow, no beating around the bush with this woman!

  “Correct,” Sage answered and looked for something to shove in her mouth for a short reprieve. “No boyfriend.”

  “What kind of idiots are they growing out in Maryland?” Siobhan cackled. “You stick around here, you’ll have a boyfriend before the month is out, or at least a field of suitors to pick from.”

  “I…I’m not looking,” Sage stuttered. She was in Montana for her brother and, more so, her niece.

  Siobhan waved her fork in the direction of her three cousins.

  “If none of these three tickle your fancy, you should meet Cassian, my brother. He’s better looking than this lot, and that’s saying something.”

  Siobhan finished with a wink that had fresh heat flooding Sage’s cheeks.

  She took another long sip of the ice water, the need to do so embarrassing her even more, further coloring her face, the flesh heating so badly she figured blood might ooze from her pores if anyone said another word about her.

  Thankfully, no one did because Leah emitted a loud, rolling burp that set everyone to laughing. Sensing she had become the center of attention, the little girl did what toddlers do when the spotlight is on them. She hammed it up, burping again and giggling then turning her green beans into characters in a story she spontaneously created.

  Before Sage knew it, she had a full stomach, dinner was over and she was helping carry the plates into the kitchen while Lindy set a pot of coffee brewing.

  Finished loading the dishwasher, Sage asked where she could find the restroom. Siobhan pointed at the closed door at the far end of the oversized kitchen.

  “Third room on the left.”

  Stepping out of the kitchen, Sage caught her breath in quiet delight. The right side of the hall was all glass. Enough time had passed since her arrival at the homestead that twilight covered the field. Fireflies danced from just above the carpet of wildflowers to the top of the three-story house.

  There had to be thousands of them and she paused for a few seconds to watch their phosphorescent courtship.

  Smiling, she decided she needed to hurry on to the restroom, then see if she could show Leah the view.

  The third door to the left was open, the light on. Sage stopped up short seeing Adler standing in front of the double vanity with his shirt off. He had a cotton ball in his right hand and was trying to reach across his left shoulder.

  Blood oozed from a three inch or longer cut that had been stitched closed.

  Sage should have retreated down the hall, especially with the man’s torso exposed. She knew that. Instead, she pushed on the door and blurted out.

  “You’re hurt!”

  Not giving Adler time to react to her barging in, she took the cotton ball from him and dabbed up the blood.

  “These stitches weren’t done by a doctor, were they?”

  “They were done by a practiced hand,” Adler answered, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror.

  She rolled her eyes and grabbed the tube of antibiotic cream he had next to the bag of cotton balls. She started to apply the cream in soft, careful dabs.

  “At least tell me you’re up to date on your tetanus shot.”

  Nodding, he grinned.

  “Speaking of practiced hands, you seem to know what you’re doing.”

  Blind to the trap springing up around her, she answered without thinking. “I had to help my mother change her bandages.”

  Dipping her head, she rolled her lips together to guard against further leaks of information. Adler had a different agenda. Turning to face her, he took the cotton ball away but kept hold of Sage’s hand.

  “Your mother is dead?”

  “Yes.” She wouldn’t look at him when she answered. She didn’t want to talk about her mother with anyone but Jake.

  “Five years ago, yeah?”

  Her lips mashed together as she mulled over how to answer. Jake had told these people things, but she had no idea what his exact lies were. Even if she knew her brother’s alternative facts, she had no desire to repeat them.

  “I really enjoyed hearing about your family history from Dotty,” she said, carefully picking her way through the minefield unfolding around her. “But I have no interest in discussing mine.”

  She didn’t expect Adler Turk to just let the conversation go. She also didn’t expect him to cup her by the chin, his grip resolute as he forced her to meet his gaze.

  “You loved your mother, Sage. You took care of her wounds, whatever those were. You were by her side when she needed you, but now you’re abandoning her memory and your own grief at her passing.”

  She tried to break free of his hold, her neck twisting to one side and her hand reaching for the open door. Still cupping her chin, he took a step to the side, closing the door and blocking her egress. His chest slid against the front of her dress as he studied her face, the midnight gaze penetrating.

  With his bare flesh and her dress a thin polyester, Sage felt the heat of his body. Her nipples drew tight, the aching pull mirrored between her legs. If she’d had any lingering doubt over whether she could really find herself attracted to the man, it burned away as her thighs warmed and her inner folds grew slick.

  Then Adler opened his mouth and it was like he had doused Sage with a bucket of ice water.

  “It was about a year ago that she died, not five like Jake told us,” Adler prompted. “At least I’m guessing that’s when he found out. I dropped Leah at the house earlier than I was supposed to while Dawn ran a few errands. Jake had been on his computer when I knocked. He answered the door red-eyed, face swollen like he’d had a long hard, cry.”

  “He did?” Sage felt her own tears building, the effort of constraining them compressing around her heart. Was it wrong that she was surprised to learn her brother had experienced grief at their mother’s passing?

  “Please,” she whispered, willing him to release her and stop the interrogation. “Nothing is what you think it is. Jake loved your sister. He loves Leah.”

  Sage didn’t want to cry, but her vision blurred. When she pressed her eyes shut to constrain the impending tears, one squeezed its way out to wet her cheek. Adler’s hand drifted from her chin up to the tear. His thumb brushed it away before his fingers wound through Sage’s hair.

  Before she realized what was happening, Adler was pulling her to him and she was allowing it. Her swollen breasts flattened against the hard plates of his chest and then his mouth captured hers. His free hand cupped her elbow. There was no pressure to it, but the simple gesture locked her in the kiss.

  Committed her to it.

  Her lips parted. He chewed at the bottom one for a few seconds before his tongue slid forward to tease between her top lip and teeth. She whimpered, her nails scratching lightly along the sides of his waist as she searched for something to hold onto.

  Adler backed her toward the counter that ran the length of one wall. His hands raced down her back, cupping her bottom then seizing hold and lifting her onto the marble surface.

  Mind racing out of control, Sage parted her legs. This wasn’t her, she kept thinking. Except, with Adler smoothing his hands along Sage’s back and sides, she was exactly the kind of woman who would tug him closer, a moan vibrating across her lips when his mouth dropped to suck at her throat.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, pulling her tight, her mound pushing against the hard outline of his erection. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

  She’d had more than a few thoughts of him, too.

  “I keep seeing you naked in my bed.”

  Sage started to shake in his arms as an unfamiliar lust seized every muscle in her body.

  Another groan left his strangled throat as his hand dipped under the skirt of her dress to
touch her thighs. A shiver ran through him and then one finger dipped beneath the elastic band of her panties and Sage shivered too.

  The finger kept moving, sliding, finding the core of her sex and entering. He kissed her, gnawed at her lips, his breath hot when it entered her mouth.

  “Baby, who are you?” he asked, abandoning her lips to kiss just below her ear. “Who are you that I want you this bad? Tell me, Sage.”

  His words were another bucket of ice. What the hell did he mean? Was this a change in interrogation techniques? Get her aroused, then ask her to come clean, leaving her humiliated whether she refused or acquiesced.

  Adler Turk probably wasn’t at all interested in her “that” way.

  Placing a palm against his chest, she pushed until Adler no longer had his hands on—or in—her. His face went slack, the dark blue gaze confused.

  Sage didn’t believe a single line of his expression.

  “You need to stop asking me questions,” she said, finding a sudden calm. “And you need to let me leave.”

  “Sage…” He looked between them, at her exposed thigh, at his bulging erection with its girth and length forcing the tip past the waist of his jeans.

  His throat bobbed with a rough swallow as he stepped back. He gave her a second to slide off the counter and straighten her dress before he opened the door. Just before Sage could step into the hall, Adler’s hand curled resolutely around her elbow. She looked up to find the midnight blue gaze boring into her, his face a mix of emotions.

  “You said no more questions,” he rasped.

  She nodded.

  “You can set me almost any task, Miss Ballard, and I’d jump through fire to accomplish it for you. But I won’t stop asking until I have my answers.”

  With that, he released Sage and vanished for the rest of the night.

  7

  Fingers strumming against his steering wheel, Adler stared through a sliding glass door at the two figures standing inside the Tumbleweed Fuel Station. Located twenty minutes south of Willow Gap, the business sat on a local route for semi-trucks hauling oil and timber. During daylight, a mix of customers might stop to refuel—big rigs, of course, but also tourists on their way further north and local folk on their way to or from errands in Billings.