by Christa Wick
Straining to remember the details of that conversation, Ashley finally managed to dredge up a few facts.
“I didn’t find out anything on that call. She said her father’s dementia had worsened.”
“Point one,” Walker said. “Frank’s mind is as good as it ever was, and that’s saying a lot. Point two—Frank doesn’t have any kids. He was out of town because he won a two-week, all expenses paid fishing trip up north, exactly the kind of bait he’d jump at. The woman who answered the phone had been his neighbor for a few months and agreed to feed and exercise his dogs while he was gone.”
“Let me guess, she was the source of his mysterious win.”
“Her boss was—and she rolled real quick when she found out a federal agent had been kidnapped. But that still wasn’t good enough.”
Ashley laughed as the painkiller took a little more control of her senses. She gave Walker’s leg a little pat.
“No wonder it took you so long.”
“No kidding,” he said, missing her joke. “Once we had real names to go with the pictures, we got a call that the big hairy guy had family in the area. Someone else who heard the name saw the fabric you stuck out the window, but they took a couple of hours before deciding to call us.”
Rage vibrated through his voice at that final revelation.
“I shoehorned my way into Emerson’s vehicle from the beginning and we were the closest. You know the rest,” he finished.
“Here,” he said, turning down a private dirt road. “Casa Walker.”
He parked in front of the porch, cautioned Ashley to hang tight, then raced up the porch and opened the door. Returning to the truck, he opened her door.
“Let me take you up the steps at least.”
Nodding, she wrapped her arms around his neck and slid forward so he could lift her out of the cab.
As he walked, Ashley talked.
“You know, at first I was really afraid once they threw me in that room.”
He eased her onto the couch and tenderly lifted her leg onto the ottoman. On his knees in front of her, Walker rested his head on her lap. His hand stroked absently at her hip.
“I was terrified, too.”
She combed her fingers through his thick hair then traced the edge of his ear and on down to his chin. Forcing him to look up at her, Ashley shook her head.
“But then I remembered you were out there looking for me, and so were all the people who care about you. I had an army at my back because of you.”
Crying her own tears, Ashley couldn’t be certain, but she thought she saw a few slide down his strong cheeks.
“Ash, I’ve already lost two people I love,” he rasped. “I couldn’t take losing another one—especially you.”
First she smiled, then her face sobered as his words sank in.
“Walker Pierce Turk—did you just say you love me?”
He laughed, the sound broken yet full of infinite promise. “Yeah. I love you, Ash. I thought that was obvious from the early days on.”
Her face contorted, an ugly cry threatening to break free. She shook her head, the gesture freezing Walker in place.
How could she say it? How could she tell this beautiful, caring man that it wasn’t obvious because she was pretty damn sure she never had someone love her before. Not just some guy, but her parents. As much as her mother went on about the need for negative population growth, Ashley was pretty sure the pregnancy had been an accident. Raising her had been an act of duty, not love. That early freeze out had colored every relationship since.
“It’s okay, Ash,” he scratched out. “I’m not asking you to feel the same way, not yet at least.”
Taking his head in her hands, she leaned forward and kissed Walker hard on the mouth. He surged up onto the couch, careful even with the heat pouring from him to avoid her injured leg.
He took control of the kiss, tenderly managing her passion, slowly bringing her back down.
Biting at his lip, he shook his head and smiled.
“The things I want to do to you,” he sighed. “But not tonight, love. You need tucked into bed.”
Ashley nodded. As usual, he was right.
“Will you stay with me, though? In bed beside me…at least for a little while?”
Walker ghosted one last kiss across her lips.
“Love, I’m going to be with you forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Arms wrapped around her head, Ashley stared at the computer. An email from Phil Moske filled the screen. She was on her fifth read, this time amusing herself by counting the many exclamation points.
Nothing else about the contents was remotely funny.
“What is so riveting?” Walker asked as he took a seat next to her.
Her chest lifted with a deep breath. Shaking her head, she turned the computer to where he could see the screen.
“I shouldn’t show you this.”
He inched closer. “I’ll sign an affidavit saying I was reading over your shoulder.”
She studied Walker’s face as he read her boss’s words.
Ex-boss, she amended. Moske had emailed to inform Ashley she was being transferred back to California.
Consider yourself lucky that you are not being terminated! Your Nancy Drew shenanigans have brought shame to the uniform!
The tone worsened from there. The more Walker read, the tighter his jaw clenched.
“He’s sore because you showed him up,” Walker said. “He kept claiming no case, and then you bag a fox farm and a canceled bear hunt, plus a lock on the money laundering operations.”
“I tripped my way into that.” She scowled at her leg then covered her face. “Like, literally tripped into it.”
She closed the lid on her laptop and moved it onto the coffee table in Lindy Turk’s great room.
“You know,” she laughed. “For a while, I thought Moske might have been on the take.”
“You weren’t the only one. Emerson asked around,” Walker said. “Not saying the man isn’t on the take, but it turns out there was bad blood between him and Deacon. Just you sitting in the old man’s chair was enough to make Moske dislike you.”
Hands cupping his chin, Walker rubbed both sides of his jaw in a seesaw motion. Before the kidnapping, Ashley had never witnessed the behavior. Since her rescue, she had seen it several times.
She pulled his hands to her and kissed at the knuckles.
“Spit it out,” she coaxed. “We obviously have a lot to talk about.”
He shrugged, his gaze skipping to the other side of the room.
“So, California?”
She laced her fingers through his.
“I could try to fight the transfer, but Moske would still be my boss if I won,” she said. “If I lose, I would be branded within the agency.”
Thinking it over more thoroughly, she snorted. “Who am I kidding? Either way, if I fight it, I’m branded.”
“That’s it,” he monotoned. “You’re going?”
“Or quitting,” she answered.
Just letting the idea whisper through her head was foreign.
Pulling away, she grabbed a throw pillow and wrapped her arms around it.
“My parents never let me quit at anything,” she whispered. “No exaggeration.”
She buried her face against the pillow, remaining silent until Walker brushed his thumb across the back of her neck in encouragement.
Looking up, she saw his loving green gaze staring at her expectantly.
“Eventually, it made me hesitant to try new things,” Ashley confessed. “For eight years, all the way until I left for college, I really, really…I mean really sucked at ballet. But ten-year-old me wanted to try. The second my mom signed me up, I was locked in.”
Not caring who might come into the room, Walker pulled Ashley onto his lap.
Three weeks had passed since the kidnapping. Ashley had been on administrative leave the entire time and couldn’t go back to work until a psychiatrist cleared
her after the traumatic event. But it wasn’t all bad news. She had stayed in Willow Gap the entire time—the first two nights at Walker’s before returning to the guest room at his mother’s house. And the doctor finally cleared her to take the cast off for a couple of hours each day.
Being able to snuggle with Walker like this was absolute Heaven to Ashley.
With a heavy sigh, she buried her face against his neck.
“I don’t see your parents having much of a say anymore,” Walker coaxed. “Mama would bust my butt if she heard me talking like that. Doesn’t make it any less true.”
She curled her hand around the other side of Walker’s neck, her thumb stroking the underside of his chin.
“Your mom would understand the situation,” she said after a few quiet minutes.
“How long before you have to leave?” he asked. “Do you know?”
Ashley burrowed a little deeper, held him a little tighter.
“A while still,” she answered as Walker grew restless beneath her.
She moved to slide off his lap, but he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the hollow of her throat and then the corner of her mouth.
“I meant everything I said, Ash,” he rasped. “I love you.”
She nodded, nose stinging.
“Are you taking the transfer because you can’t deal with the idea of quitting, or because you love the work more than…”
He trailed off, but she didn’t need to hear the words to know what he was getting at. Squeezing his chin, she drew his gaze to hers.
“I like the work. I love you.”
Releasing her grip on him, she looked around the room. The decor had a certain country elegance with its big space, leather furniture, and wall-to-wall wood. Tastefully scattered around were silver frames holding pictures from each generation of Turks.
Overshadowing everything with its beauty, a tree of copper leaves grew from the top of the fireplace mantle to just a few feet below the two-story ceiling. Each leaf bore the name of a Turk child or spouse. With three weeks of studying the unusual artwork, she knew that Lindy had made sure the past carried into the future when she named her sons.
Adler was Lindy’s maiden name. Walker was from his paternal grandmother’s maiden name. The pattern continued with Barrett, Sutton, and Emerson, the names selected taking equal turns among Lindy and Brody’s ancestry, but always drawing from the woman’s maiden name.
“I love your family, too,” she whispered. Her mouth formed a squiggly line suggesting she was seconds away from crying. “Honey Bee is downright addictive…so is Siobhan.”
“Well,” Walker chuckled. “To be fair, those two are the same mental age.”
Ashley gave his shoulder a light punch then buried her face against his neck once more.
“So you won’t move to California,” he told her. “You’ll stay here and marry me.”
Ashley stopped breathing. She pulled back, her arms and torso shaking. Her lips tingled from the lack of oxygen. Feeling the room start to spin, she sucked in a deep breath.
“Was that a proposal?” she asked.
His mouth twitched.
“More like a directive,” he coughed. “You feel up to a short walk? No need to leave the house.”
Trusting he was working his way around to a clearer answer, Ashley nodded and slid off his lap.
Taking Ashley’s hand, Walker led her out of the great room and down the hall that housed both the guest room she had been sleeping in and his childhood bedroom.
He bypassed her door in favor of his.
“Sit here,” he said, guiding her over to his bed.
Ashley complied, her gaze locked on his body as he got down on the floor and rooted under the bed. When his hand reappeared, it was holding a wooden keepsake box.
“Wasn’t that at your house before?”
He nodded.
“Now it’s here because you are.”
Ashley exhaled, her body starting to shake again. Walker lifted the lid to reveal trays that could be taken out. The top tray held small pieces of military regalia—badges and braids that dated from Vietnam to the Civil War.
He put it aside. Memories of his younger years populated the second tray. Arrowheads, baseball cards, a ribbon from his first rodeo skills event.
“Adler was always a better horseman,” he said, stroking a finger along the ribbon. “Frustrating since we were in the same age group most of the time.”
Ashley gave him a soft nudge with her shoulder when his hand remained motionless over the keepsakes.
Relenting with a breathless laugh that bounced his chest without making a sound, Walker lifted the tray to reveal the last level of the box. There was only one item. It rested on a square of black velvet and glittered like the night sky.
Still on his knees, Walker pinched the band of the diamond solitaire and held it toward Ashley.
“I’m not good at this kind of thing,” he said. “The flowers were hard enough, especially when the woman asked if I wanted a card to go with them.”
She nodded, tears already streaming down her face.
“Believe me,” she rasped. “You’re doing it perfectly.”
A smile stretched across her face.
“Don’t stop,” she urged.
A bashful grin turned his cheeks pink. The Adam’s apple bobbed a couple of times and then Walker drew a deep breath.
“Will you marry me, Ash?”
“Yes,” she squealed, grabbing Walker by the collar and pulling him closer.
She pressed her lips to his, then ran the tip of her nose down along the curve of his neck, kissing him where she knew his flesh was super sensitive. Groaning, Walker captured her hand and slid the ring on. He kissed her palm, then her wrist. His lips slid to the bend of her elbow, where he took a slow sucking kiss.
Thighs trembling, she stopped him before they both lost control.
“There’s a wedding to plan,” she smiled. “But first we have to tell your family.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Always a bridesmaid,” Siobhan joked, sneaking up on Ashley from behind and wrapping her arms around the bride-to-be. “You look breathtaking, Ash.”
“I had a great personal shopper,” Ashley replied, turning to the woman who would officially become her cousin before the day was over. “And you are the maid of honor.”
“Bridesmaid, maid of honor, both are code for being a pathetic single female,” Siobhan joked. “Good news is that the tow truck just finished digging Sutton out of the snow bank. He and Lindy will be here in ten.”
Her stomach tied in knots despite the good news, Ashley nodded. “Can’t have a wedding without a best man or mother of the groom.”
“Aunt Lindy would just make us do it all over again,” Siobhan laughed.
Siobhan looked around the large conference room within the church that served as the bridal changing area. Sage, in her bridesmaid gown, entertained Leah. The toddler wore a dress in the same cool aqua as the bridesmaids, her amber colored hair in a French braid and a small silver tiara perched on her head.
Seeing that Siobhan had returned to the room, Leah twirled her way over.
“Leah Elsa,” she pronounced.
Siobhan curtsied. “Your Fairy Highness.”
Delighted that she had received the appropriate amount of respect for royalty, the little girl danced back to her aunt.
“Did your mom take her seat already?” Siobhan asked after her gaze made another trip around the room.
“Yes, too noisy in here for Phyllis to work,” Ashley answered.
Snorting, Siobhan squeezed out another cautious hug that managed to avoid wrinkling either of their outfits.
“Stupid snow,” she complained. “Lindy is going to be sad she missed helping you dress.”
“It’s a shame,” Ashley agreed as she displayed the folds of the vintage lace gown that her future mother-in-law had helped restore and fit for the wedding.
Picking up a white cashmere stole Li
ndy had knitted just for the event, she showed it to Siobhan.
“I left this for her to put on.”
Sniffling, Siobhan wiped a careful line under her eyelid where the mascara threatened to run.
“Don’t you start,” Ashley whisper-smiled. “So, do you have your next target picked out?”
Grinning, Siobhan cut a discreet side glance in the direction of bridesmaid number three, Madigan Armstrong.
“You’ve been working that line for a long time.”
Siobhan shrugged. “Only a little longer than I worked you. And, as everyone knows, my will is inevitable.”
Leah cocked her head then threw her hands in the air.
“Sutty here!”
Ashley cast a skeptical look at Siobhan. The door to the changing room was closed and there were no windows to look out.
“That child comes equipped with sonar,” Siobhan laughed.
Sure enough, the door opened a minute later and Lindy Turk slipped into the room.
Leah intercepted her grandmother, showing off the skirt’s twirl on her flower girl dress.
“Wonderful,” Lindy said and kissed the child’s cheek. “Show me again when everyone gets to dance. It’s time for you to grab your flower basket now.”
Leah ran back to Sage, her little hands making “gimme” motions.
Lindy headed for Ashley with tears in her eyes. “Oh, love, you look so beautiful.”
Another careful hug was exchanged.
“Thank you,” Ashley sniffled. “It’s all your work.”
“Nonsense,” Lindy said. “It wouldn’t shine like that draped on a hanger.”
“I saved the stole,” Ashley said as Siobhan handed the piece to her. “Would you do the honors?”
Lindy nodded, then tilted her face toward the ceiling for a few seconds to stall the cascade of tears that threatened.
She exhaled, laughing at herself, then spread the stole around Ashley’s shoulders, fastening it at the front with a silver chain.
Siobhan followed with the winter bouquet she had crafted for Ashley, complete with white roses, rosettes made from pine cones, the silver foliage of the Artemisia stelleriana, and ribbons of burlap.
