“Abi.”
Kira’s musical greeting gave Abi all the excuse she needed to break the staring contest she’d inadvertently found herself in with Station Boss Barbie. Kira danced around the hood of the car and through the animals in dusty pink boots that must have come from the kids’ aisle at the local general store and pulled her out from behind the protection of the driver’s door. Kira hugged her tight before holding her at arm’s length and gazing up at her like she was a movie star. “I’m not letting you leave until you teach me how to drive like that. Mum said you were something special, but I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”
Compared to the stunning Sith Lord Madison, Kira’s energy swept her up in a whirlwind of sunshine. Barely coming to her shoulder, Kira was exactly how Ryder had described, only more joyous and full of life. With her spiky jet-black hair, almond-shaped eyes, and glowing copper skin, she looked like a pixie cowgirl in her black shorts and faded pink shirt.
“I’d love to.” Abi flashed an apologetic smile at Jarrah over Kira’s spikes and winced. “But I think we’re going to have to find a different car.”
Jeddah, the eldest of the Harper siblings, hip-checked Jarrah as she strode forward and extended her hand. “Don’t worry, my idiot brother’s not upset about the car. He’s just pissed you’re a better driver than him, and he can no longer claim to be the brown Michael Schumacher of the outback.”
A muffled grunt spluttered from Jarrah’s mouth as he gestured helplessly to his Aston as it creaked and ticked back into hibernation. Abi eased out of Kira’s embrace and accepted Jeddah’s outstretched hand. Ryder had warned her the Harpers’ only true blood siblings were eerily similar, but she still couldn’t believe how twin-like Jarrah and Jeddah were. They were like two halves of the same exquisite creature. While she shook Jeddah’s hand, the elegant brunette’s way-too-perceptive raven eyes pierced hers. She would have given Halle Berry a run for her money, and by the way she concealed her curiosity behind a mask of politeness, the station’s office manager wasn’t a half-bad actress, either. Jeddah’s casual inspection covered every inch of her, except her head. It was as if the eldest Harper sibling couldn’t see the bright pink scarf that must have stood out like a beacon on top of Abi’s head.
Abi tucked her confusion away to be explored later and met Jeddah’s inspection head-on. If this was a test to determine if she was worthy of a holiday fling with the woman’s kid brother, backing down wasn’t going to earn her any brownie points. Jeddah’s lips curved ever so slightly before she nodded, released Abi’s hand, and slid in beside her.
It was almost as if Jeddah was protecting her from her brother, who’d thankfully calmed down enough to look bewildered instead of murderous. Compared to Ryder, Jarrah looked almost small, but his worn jeans and baggy dark-blue button-down couldn’t hide a physique that was just as impressive as his brother’s, only leaner and more compact. Where Ryder was a battle-axe, huge, chipped, and dented from a lifetime of war, Jarrah was a katana, slender and finely honed but just as lethal. As if sensing her scrutiny, Jarrah slowly slid his glare from the Vanquish to her.
She straightened and pushed through the dogs before extending a hand. “I’m so sorry, I…” She shot Ryder a pleading look, but the jerk’s smile only widened as she stuttered and groped for a believable excuse.
When her brain stalled for a third time, she cursed under her breath and decided to put her navigator to the sword. “Ryder told me that’s how you wanted it driven. He said—”
“I told her you wanted someone who actually knew what they were doing to test-drive your car and let you know if it’s worth what you paid for it.” Ryder strode forward and clubbed Jarrah on the shoulder. The fleshy thud had her wincing, but no one else seemed to notice. “I told her she could repay the ride by teaching you how to drive.”
She cringed as Jarrah sucked in a breath and straightened. Ryder draped an arm over his brother’s shoulders and gazed at her like she’d just learned to sit, roll over, and play dead. “She’s the best damned driver I’ve ever seen, and if you’re nice to her, I may be able to convince her to show you what that useless piece of man jewelry can really—”
Jarrah elbowed Ryder in the ribs and cut short the insult before shoving out of his brother’s embrace. With each stride, Jarrah’s expression softened until he was shaking his head and grinning at her with a smile that had the freshly awakened woman in her smiling right back. Holy hell, the man was Idris Elba, George Clooney, and Will Smith rolled into one hot-flash-inducing package with enough Joseph Gordon-Levitt to disarm her self-respect.
She accepted Jarrah’s outstretched hand and shook, but even as he unleashed the full force of his mojo, only the slightest ripple of nervous energy shot through her. Maybe she wasn’t such a harlot after all. But one look at the murderous glare Ryder had locked on to his older brother had her entire nervous system lighting up like a Fourth-of-July fireworks show. No, she was definitely turning into a harlot, just a very selective one. She tried to ease free of Jarrah’s grip as politely as possible, but he held firm and gently pulled her in for a way-too-casual kiss on the cheek.
When he leaned away, his devilish smile would’ve had a porn star blushing. He hitched a thumb over his shoulder and winked. “I’ll take that driving lesson when you get bored of this Neanderthal. Maybe after dinner we could head into town for a drink?”
Jarrah was using her as a pawn in a chess game that must have raged for as long as these two gladiators had known each other, but it felt too damned good to have the attention of two ruggedly handsome cowboys to be offended.
“Please excuse my oldest brother, Abi, he tends to turn feral whenever he escapes the office.” A young man slapped Ryder on the back and strode into the center of the circle that had formed around her. He readjusted the glasses perched on his adorably crooked nose and studied her with a pair of cobalt eyes that were as hypnotic as they were intense. Ryder’s description of his younger brother had had her imagining a short, slightly built geek, but the only thing remotely nerdy about the man standing before her were his chrome-framed glasses. The rest was 100 percent prime outback cowboy.
A cross between Ryder’s battle-axe and Jarrah’s katana, he was shorter than his brothers, probably just under six foot, but the man had an innate confidence and bearing that made him look much wiser and older than his twenty-five years. He slid his black cowboy hat off his shaved head with the seductive grace of a high-class stripper and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Abi. I’m Ethan.”
Holy crap, make that three ruggedly handsome men. “Hi, Ethan, it’s lovely to meet you.”
She forced bass into her voice to make sure she didn’t blow the whole sophisticated, international jet-setter, stunt-driver vibe she’d been going for and froze like the nervous elementary school teacher she was as she shook his hand. A kaleidoscope of tattoos exploded up his forearms before the intricate artwork disappeared under the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt.
Ethan chuckled and released her hand before lifting the cuff of his shirt to reveal an arm as muscular and striking as his ink. “The results of a misspent youth.”
Heat flooded her already superheated cheeks as she wrenched her gaze from the bands of decorated muscle sheathing his forearm and biceps. Before she could get her gaping mouth to work, a choked gasp somewhere between a scream and a sob saved her from making an even bigger fool of herself.
The crowd parted to reveal a diminutive mature woman who could have only been Naya Harper standing like a queen in front of the sprawling homestead that was her castle. Torn blue jeans and a faded red-and-white-checked button-down served as her royal robes while a tattered hat that looked even more bedraggled than Ryder’s acted as her crown. But the matriarch of the Harper dynasty didn’t need fancy props; her regal bearing alone confirmed this was her kingdom.
The dogs quieted, and the scorching breeze that had been whipping up tiny dust devils in the courtyard just moments earlier stilled. It seemed even
the elements had sensed her presence. As the seconds ticked by, Naya’s serene features softened and her eyes glistened more brightly behind pools of unshed tears.
Madison kicked at the dust with the toe of her boot and eased away from Ryder. “Ah shit, here we go.”
Naya clutched a trembling hand to her mouth and shook her head as her eyes overflowed and a torrent of tears flowed down her rich brown cheeks. She took a hesitant step forward, then another, before she gave up all pretense of control and hurtled across the hardpacked dirt and flung herself into her son’s outstretched arms.
Ryder encircled his mother’s ballerina frame and hoisted her against his chest before burying his face into her thick silver hair. Ryder’s weather-beaten hat joined his mother’s in the dust as she cursed, sobbed, and laughed all at the same time.
Abi’s throat tightened as Naya alternated between scolding, kissing, and hugging her son. Their phone conversation had hinted at the bond they shared, but seeing the two of them together confirmed the link was far closer than words or adoption paperwork could express.
With the well-practiced stealth of an experienced hunter, Jarrah slid in beside Abi, eased an arm around her waist, and gently turned her toward the farmhouse. “C’mon, you must be exhausted, and they’re going to be a while.”
They’d barely taken a step before Naya pulled free of Ryder’s grasp and zeroed in on Jarrah. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and jabbed a finger at her oldest son. “Oh no you don’t.” Naya strode forward with her finger boring into Jarrah before she pulled up in front of him and wrenched his arm clear of Abi’s waist.
Jarrah gazed down at his mother with a horrified look and shrugged. “What?”
Naya huffed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Save your sleazy charm for those high-society city women, otherwise your younger brother’s going to fold you into the glove box of that ridiculous car of yours and bury you out in the scrub.”
“Sleazy charm.” Jarrah clutched his heart and rocked back as if he’d been shot.
Naya muttered another curse before sighing and taking Abi’s hands. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Abi.”
She didn’t even get a chance to respond before Naya gently pulled her into a hug.
Despite her tiny frame, the body hiding beneath the cotton and denim felt almost as hard as Ryder’s yet radiated a serene peace that had Abi hugging Naya right back with everything she had. “Thank you for allowing me to stay. I’m so sorry for intruding on your son’s homecoming.”
Naya chuckled and leaned back. “Nonsense, you stay as long as you want.”
She fought the urge to glance at Ryder, and failed miserably. If she wasn’t touching him, she was looking at him. In just two days he’d consumed her entire world, but like everything else, their time together was going to end, and not even a magical tree was going to change that.
He stood stone-still and stared back. The ominous grin curving his lips confirmed what she’d been ignoring the entire journey west from Brisbane. With every passing minute, reality drifted further away, and her return to the real world grew more distant and daunting.
She shook away the darkness clouding her thoughts and cleared her throat. “Thank you so much, but I’ll only be staying a few days.”
Was she trying to convince herself or the woman grinning back at her with knowing eyes that had experienced way more than just her fifty-eight years?
Naya’s smile widened before she simply nodded and shepherded her toward the farmhouse. “Welcome to Wingarra, Abi, Place of Magical Water.”
Chapter Sixteen
I’ll only be staying a few days.
Abi’s words replayed over and over in Ryder’s head as his mother guided Abi onto the veranda and into the only home he’d ever known. Christ, he hated that fake smile she shot him whenever the future crawled back into their world. Like hell she was leaving in a few days.
“Holy shit, you’re right.”
He turned to find Maddie staring at him and shaking her head with her mouth twisted into the menacing scowl that never seemed far from her face.
Jeddah pulled up beside his middle sister and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s Valerie all over again.”
Great, just freaking great. He gritted his teeth and unclenched his fists. He’d been eighteen when Ms. Valerie Tanner had sauntered into his life in her way-too-tight jeans and way-too-loose shirt, upended his world, ripped out his stupid, naive heart, and sashayed right on out again and straight into Luke Watson’s spindly chicken arms.
Jarrah burst out laughing and joined his three sisters, who huddled together and studied him like the interview panel at a court-martial. “Damn, this almost makes up for what you did to my car, you stupid dickhead. Karma’s a bitch, little bro—”
Kira silenced Jarrah with a backhand to the gut, which was just as well because Ryder was about three seconds away from taking up his mother’s suggestion and shoving the smart-arse into the Vanquish’s glove box.
Kira’s work boots barely touched the ground as she flitted across the dust toward him and pulled him into a hug. “Ignore them. They’re too bitter and twisted to believe in magic.”
What the hell did that mean?
He looked to Ethan for support only to find his younger brother shaking his head and grinning back.
Great, so much for a relaxing dinner.
Kira grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the front door. “C’mon, I’m starving.”
While he racked his brain trying to figure out what his baby sister was on about, he numbly followed the tiniest Harper toward the Big House like a trained gorilla.
Visions from the past flooded his mind and drowned his confusion under an ocean of memories. Since he’d lost his leg, he’d been home on and off for some good old-fashioned tender loving care whenever he escaped rehab and the bullshit, fill-in work command had thrown his way, but it’d never felt like this. The clock had always been counting down the hours till he had to return to a life that no longer held any allure. With each stride across the courtyard and up the hundred-year-old hardwood steps leading onto the veranda, the stupid, arrogant, selfish boy who’d run away from paradise for a one-way ticket to adventure-turned-hell felt more and more like a stranger.
Kira opened the screen door and a dozen memories bombarded him as it creaked. How many times had his father refused to replace perfectly good hinges, and how often had the man who’d showed him what it truly meant to be a man cursed and grumbled while trying to repair the same perfectly good hinges? How often had his mother threatened to sell the next child who left the door open and let the flies in?
He waved away the irritating bastards dive-bombing his face and smiled. His mother may as well have tried stopping the sun from rising. Flies, like the ocher dust that eventually turned everything you owned red, were as much a part of this hellish paradise as the heat drying your throat and the wind sucking the moisture from your body.
He paused on the frayed and faded Welcome Home doormat that had been trampled by the hundreds of wanderers who’d called Wingarra home at some point in their travels and turned to his family.
Jeddah dabbed away a tear that had trickled down her cheek and rested her head on Jarrah’s shoulder. Jarrah cleared his throat and slid an arm around his sister’s waist. Madison cursed and pretended to swat away flies as she wiped her glistening eyes. And Ethan readjusted his glasses and nodded as the evening sunlight peeked below the veranda’s bullnose roof.
Kira wrapped her tiny hand around his fingers and squeezed. “Welcome home, big brother.”
He’d hunted down genocidal maniacs who’d tried to wipe out entire races and fought wars created by racist, misogynistic, religious monsters to persecute the innocent, yet here he stood surrounded by girl and boy, by black and white, by young and not so young and everything in between. They’d been strangers herded together by circumstance, hardship, and pure dumb luck. And who’d eventually grown to love each other more than any true-blood siblings
could.
Maddie’s scowl faltered for a split second before she blinked away the moisture pooling in her eyes and shoved Jarrah and Ethan toward the door. “Oh for Christ’s sake, enough already, let’s eat.”
The scents of freshly baked bread, roast beef, and vegetables enveloped him. He made his way down the corridor toward the kitchen that had hosted so many of his life’s most memorable moments. He slowed and studied the new photos his mother had squeezed onto what little free space remained on the walls. Thanks to his mother’s endless Facebook posts and emails he could match names to most of the faces, but there were so many it was impossible to place them all. A few more dry-season musters and his mother would have to hang photos on the ceiling to remember and honor the visitors who’d shared a meal at her table and a bed in her home.
He paused in front of the last family photo capturing the entire Harper clan. The guardian angels who’d rescued his sisters and brothers from foster care sat embracing each other on the homestead’s steps while the six Harper kids clambered over them.
His scrawny sisters and brothers had looked just like the zoo of stray dogs, goats, sheep, cattle, and whatever the hell else his mother had roaming around outside, but the couple he’d always considered his real parents had treasured each and every one of them. He smiled and tipped his hat to the man who’d taught him everything he knew about commitment, respect, honor, and love.
Abi’s laughter echoed down the corridor and instantly widened his grin. He turned into the kitchen to find her and his mother huddled together near the battered cast iron stove that must have churned out a million meals. They supported each other as they gasped for breath and swiped at the tears moistening their cheeks. Abi nudged his mother and shot upright the moment she saw him.
Against All Odds (Outback Hearts) Page 17