by Christa Wick
Despite the doubt, she stroked his head and murmured, “Of course it will.”
They sat like that for a few minutes, her holding him, both of them quiet. No sounds in the hall, no sounds from the room next door, everything caught in time except for her thoughts.
Jake eased himself from her embrace. A look she remembered from childhood when their mother would give him cough syrup flashed across his face.
“I need to come clean with Lindy. Everyone else will find out in due course, but I want her to hear it today.”
Sage bobbed her head in agreement, her bottom lip caught tight between her teeth, the edge of pain blotting her emotions so she could look at her brother.
“Adler told her to call Siobhan over and take Leah to the stables.” He cracked a wry smile. “Do you want to join either expedition? I’m sure Leah could spend all day showing you the horses, especially Cannonball.”
She released a slow breath and shook her head. “I have some stuff to do here first. My first day wasn’t very productive.”
He smiled more broadly and bumped her shoulder. “Suit yourself, but I think they’d let it slide this time.”
Jake was holding something back, maybe just an admission that he was nervous about talking to his mother-in-law, maybe something more. Again, too much time had passed for her to read him accurately. But she was barely holding it together. She would be a dark cloud hanging over the stables or his talk with Lindy.
She patted his hand. “You’ll be fine. Lindy Turk loves you as more than just Leah’s father.”
He bobbed his head again, leaned over and kissed Sage’s cheek.
Standing up, he remembered something he wanted to tell her. “Hey, Adler said the offer for me to work here at the ranch is always open. So, maybe after I square it with Chandler, we’ll be able to carpool some days, or at least have lunch together.”
“Leah would love that,” she said.
Hiding behind Sage’s smile was the truth that her resignation waited on Adler’s desk, had likely been opened already. If he had one of those APPROVED stamps, the letter was probably colored over in blue ink.
Jake leaned in one last time, kissed her cheek then headed down the hall to find Lindy.
Sage returned to the desk that had been hers for all of half a day. She didn’t wake the computer or make any attempt to find something to keep her busy. She just stared at the wall and waited.
The door to Adler’s office opened after a few more minutes. She counted his steps, four long strides bringing him to her room’s threshold. Just as he had done that first time in Jake’s home, he hung back at the doorway.
“I’m willing to work in the stable offices like I offered this afternoon.” For a second, he glowered, his shoulders bunched up in another reminder of that first meeting. Then the wind went out of him and he took his first step inside the office.
Pulling out the envelope, its seal intact, he approached her desk, put it down and slowly pushed it toward her.
“I’m not willing to accept this. You work the month as contracted. You want to find a different job after that, fine. You want to stay on after that, you do it as you, not some LLC.”
He dropped the car keys on top of the envelope.
“And you’ll give me your driver’s license so I don’t have to jump through hoops with the insurance company. Agreed?”
She nodded. She could always write him another letter, another check. And a month was as good a period as any to figure out if she had broken any chance at calling Willow Gap home.
Adler turned to leave. She held him back, but only for a second.
“You don’t need to work from the stables.”
“Good,” he acknowledged and continued out the door.
13
Scrolling through production reports that Sage had automated, Adler pretended to work. It was hard going with the woman one room away. His mind kept drifting to the words he had spoken on her first day two weeks prior and how to make amends for the mistrust those words had demonstrated.
In contrast, Sage apparently had no problem staying productive. Somehow, without banning him to the stables, her skill with the spreadsheets had winnowed down the amount of time he actually needed to be in the office to a day and a half a week. All the tapping at the keyboard next door would soon have him down to half a day before her thirty days were over—and most of that time would be spent signing a few big checks for suppliers and endorsing checks from buyers for deposit.
Boots echoed down the hall. He glanced at the clock on his computer. Quarter past three meant it was too early for Jake to be back from the pens or pastures. Lindy would most likely be in the kitchen thinking about dinner preparations. What bowls to get out, was the meat thawed. Copely usually called before he came up to the house, so it wasn’t likely to be him.
“Hey,” Siobhan chirped. “Wanna go out tonight?”
Adler didn’t lift his head at the cheerful voice or invitation. Siobhan wasn’t speaking to him. She had stopped one door before his. She was poking her head in Sage’s office.
“Are we going to chase lightning bugs?” Sage quipped.
Adler winced at how light her voice sounded. Open, too, not guarded like when she was speaking with him.
He had messed up bad, no doubt about it. Her notes alone should have demonstrated to him that Leah was safe to leave with her. Throughout the hare-brained plans she had sketched out, Leah’s safety and future well-being had clearly been paramount. It was just plain stupid that she thought the toddler would be better off without Sage in her life.
“Sorta,” Siobhan teased. “You know lightning bugs are looking to attract mates when their butt shines, right.”
Sage snorted then coughed until her breathing was down to a thin wheeze. Siobhan entered the room and thumped her on the back a few times.
“You owe me a new keyboard,” Sage laughed. “And, no, I don’t want to lather my bottom with Day-Glo paint or whatever it is you’re proposing.”
“Dancing, chickpea. Jake said you’re an awesome dancer.”
Still pretending to scroll through the reports, Adler lifted his brows. Half the family was learning something new about Sage every day. He only heard things second hand because of all the space he was giving the woman.
“That was a long time ago,” Sage countered. “Grooving to the Hot Dog Song when we were kids hardly qualifies as being an awesome dancer.”
“Not buying it.” The love seat protested as Siobhan plopped down on it. The whump of denim jeans smacking against the leather cushions was followed by the heels of Siobhan’s boots hitting the surface of Sage’s wooden desk. “Come on, week one is in the bag, it’s your second week here, and the only people in town who don’t think you’re make believe are Betty Rae and Dalton Jr., and no one listens to Dalton. I want to show off my smart, sexy cousin-in-law.”
“Does it work that way?” Sage laughed. “The in-law by marriage thing?”
“It does in this family,” Siobhan answered. “In fact, we just drop the in-law. You are officially a Turk cousin now.”
Sage snorted again, this time without tea shooting out her nose.
“I can think of two really good reasons for you to show up.”
Siobhan’s voice went up a few decibels. For a second, Adler wondered if she was purposefully trying to grab his attention from a room away. Then she removed all doubt as she ended the suspense of what those two good reasons were.
“See, while all the single Turk men can go out dancing and raising Cain unattended by any female relatives, we womenfolk must have chaperones—or an approved date.”
“That seems…antiquated,” Sage said.
“For a long time, I would have agreed with you, but then I realized there was a very distinct advantage.”
“Okay, you’ve got my curiosity up. Why is submitting to some outdated, patriarchal practice actually a good thing?”
“Well, you’ve seen Walker and Barrett and Adler.”
I
n the silence as Siobhan teased out the explanation, Adler could imagine Sage’s smile faltering when his name was mentioned.
“Seen them, yes,” Sage agreed. “Still don’t see your point.”
“They’re babe magnets, silly. They draw at least half the serious competition away from any guy you might be interested in.”
“I’m not interested in being interested.”
“Seriously?” Siobhan flopped around the leather couch. “You still have to come anyway. Other than Leah’s birthday party, you haven’t really met Cassian. He’s been working pretty much non-stop since you got here. He finally has his last pasture pregnant—”
More coughing and wheezing ensued and then a fit of giggles from both women.
“You know what I mean, chickpea. Don’t make me beg.”
“Fine, but you pick me up and you drop me off and…”
Adler hung at the edge of his seat waiting for Sage to finish.
“I’m pretty sure I have nothing to wear. At least, I doubt this is anything like a Baltimore nightclub that we’re going to.”
“Got you covered, cousin. I’ll bug Lindy and Leah until you clock out then take you over to my parents’ house. My blouses will fit. My mom’s boots should take care of your feet, and I’m going to stick you in one of my longer denim skirts, so the inches in height you’ve got on me won’t matter much.”
Imagining Sage in a skirt swirling around her knees or hugging them, Adler suppressed a groan. Siobhan was most definitely needling him with intent. At least he hoped she was. He didn’t want to think about her seriously trying to play matchmaker between Sage and Cassian.
“Oh, and turquoise earrings and stuff. Sound good?”
“Sounds kind of terrifying,” Sage joked. “But, for Jake and Leah’s sake, I’ll try to acclimate.”
“Sweet!” Siobhan jumped up, boots thudding on the floor. “I’m going to hit the little girl’s room before I go to the kitchen.”
Adler resumed scrolling, his gaze forcefully locked on the monitor in front of him. Siobhan paused for one flashing moment, her arms outstretched as she took a victorious bow in front of his doorway then continued down the hall.
Sitting at a table, sipping on her first glass of wine, Sage watched Siobhan shimmy and shake through a line dance, two tall, handsome cowboys competing for her attention. Cassian had remained with Sage, his gaze slowly scanning the roadhouse in search of prey. He didn’t seem at all interested in the willing quarry sashaying up to the table and leaning down low to whisper invitations into his ear, their cleavage on full display.
Inclining his head toward Sage, he pointed at the glass of wine she had been nursing for forty minutes, less than half of it consumed. With the music thrumming loudly, he had to put his mouth close to her ear to be heard.
“I always tell Siobhan not to leave her glass unattended to go out on the dance floor.”
Sage nodded at the advice. She didn’t go out clubbing, but, if she did, she definitely would watch her drink.
“Glad you agree.”
Lifting Sage’s glass, Cassian drained the remaining wine in one gulp then stood and extended his hand in her direction. “They’ll be dropping tempo for three songs so everyone can catch their breath. Dance with me.”
She blinked at the sudden display of attention. She hadn’t come to dance, especially with Siobhan’s brother. The young woman seemed to be nursing the ridiculous idea that she could turn a cousin-in-law into a sister-in-law.
She rolled a refusal around on her tongue, lips never moving. And then Sage saw Adler Turk standing at the bar, his arrival previously unnoticed. He stood with his back to the table, but his face was visible in the mirror. She wondered if he knew she was there and if he was just trying to finish up his drink and sneak out.
Probably, she thought, the back of her neck suddenly too warm for comfort.
Sliding her hand into Cassian’s, Sage smiled. If she was staying in Willow Gap, she had to get over the unwarranted feelings she had developed for Adler. She wasn’t going to lead Cassian on, but a dance with him would ease her into the idea of dancing with one of the other men in the roadhouse.
It didn’t matter which man—as long as his name wasn’t Adler Turk.
Cassian led her toward the center of the dance floor, its surface covered with sawdust to absorb the occasional spilled beer as people reeled around with a mug in their hands. When he stopped, she just stared at him. He took the hand he was holding and put it on his shoulder then threaded his fingers through hers on the other hand. When he started two-stepping, he kept an even hand’s width between his chest and Sage’s.
She relaxed a little. She would have feigned a sudden illness if he’d tried to dance as close to her as some of the couples were, their bodies sliding over one another.
Sage caught sight of Siobhan, who had sweated through three line dances in a row. The lucky fellow holding her hand kept trying to shorten the distance between them, his efforts met by lifted brows. Seeing Sage, Siobhan threw a wink.
Glancing up, Sage met Cassian’s gaze. For one fleeting second, she felt like a rabbit walking past a fox den. He was definitely studying her, but what for?
The song neared its end. He danced her away from the center of the floor. She hoped they were headed back to the table.
He cracked a grin, gave her a twirl and deposited her straight in the arms of a man standing at the bar two stools down from Adler Turk.
“Leave room for Jesus,” he growled at the man before telling the waitress at his elbow to bring him a beer at the table.
Sage kept her gaze locked on her new dance partner. Cassian had certainly picked a good-looking fellow to leave her with, but he was more kid than man. She’d guess he was twenty-five, maybe, making him several years younger than her baby brother.
“What’s that mean?” he whispered without leaning in. “Leave room for Jesus?”
Sage nodded at the few couples around the floor who were maintaining a hand’s width between them. Siobhan could no longer be counted among those couples. She wasn’t sliding all over her partner, but there was the intermittent, casual brush of chest against chest with the tall, brawny redhead she had found for the next dance.
“Oh,” the man said.
Sage glanced at his face, the same disappointment weighing down his tone evident on his tanned features.
“Well,” he recovered. “It’s a small price to pay for getting to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room.”
She laughed, maybe batted an eyelash or two, but didn’t take him seriously. Except for her bra and panties, everything she wore was borrowed. She wasn’t even wearing her own makeup or her own style of application. Siobhan had taken complete control of her appearance.
Not to mention that the bar was filled with plenty of willowy young women in push-up bras, most of their cleavage on display because of the deep V-necks they seemed to favor.
“You’re Jake Ballard’s sister, yeah?”
She blinked, mouth flattening as she bobbed her head. The roadhouse was maybe ten miles out of town on a side road that eventually ran into Billings. It wasn’t a place most tourists would find or visit if they did. So it wasn’t surprising that the man had heard of her and figured out who she was.
But it was disappointing. An evening that had potentially been an escape from the pressure of the last two weeks was suddenly a lost cause.
“I work at Chandler’s ranch,” he explained. “I’m Tim, by the way. I hired on this season. Not enough ranches on the east side of the state where I’m from.”
“Welcome to Willow Gap,” she said, faking a smile.
He beamed back at her, his grip growing a little tighter, like he had finally decided he wanted to dance with her.
“All the hands at Chandler’s said you weren’t supposed to exist.”
“For a while, I didn’t,” she replied. “I mean, when the boom on a twenty-foot sailboat slaps you upside the head, you forget who you are.”
His lips parted and his brows shot up. “Jake got hit by a boom?”
“Oh, no,” she corrected, her mind pulling up details from the soap opera that had always been playing at the hospice in those final weeks of her mother’s life. “You see, my fiancé had taken out a life insurance policy on me for almost a million dollars.”
“A million dollars!”
The man’s eyes kept getting Wow-By-Golly bigger as his ears stayed deaf to the undertone of snark running through her words.
“I’m joking,” she said, a sag settling into her shoulders. “Jake and I fell out of touch. It happens sometimes.”
“Oh…so no fiancé?”
“No fiancé,” a familiar voice rumbled from just behind Sage’s shoulder. “I’ll take over, if you don’t mind.”
Tim hesitated then took a step back, a frown marring his still boyish features.
“Just remember to leave room for Jesus,” he muttered.
Sage turned to face Adler. His gaze poked holes in Tim’s back for another heartbeat then he looked at Sage.
She kept forgetting Adler was half a head taller than her, something she didn’t experience often at her height, especially in the D.C. metropolitan area, a place where the eligible bachelors rarely reached six feet.
“He was upsetting you,” Adler said.
Sage shook her head. “I was upsetting myself. Something said reminded me of my mother passing and…”
“How alone you were,” Adler filled in, putting one hand on the dip at the side of her waist.
Forgetting Tim and Cassian’s admonition, he pulled Sage close as the song’s last strains vibrated through the room.
“One more slow one,” he warned. “Then it’s back to kicking and stomping.”
His palm slid to rest against the small of her back and then he began dancing.
His head dipped to whisper in her ear, his grip on her hand tightening.
“I wouldn’t have cut in if I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“I wasn’t,” she admitted. She wanted to tell him that Cassian had just spun her out before abandoning her, but all tattling like that would accomplish was revealing her hurt feelings. Worse yet, she might stumble into admitting she thought—maybe even hoped—that Cassian had intended to spin her into Adler’s arms.