Claimed: Eagle Canyon Menage Book One Read online

  Claimed

  Eagle Canyon Menage Book One

  Celeste Jones

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  A Note from Celeste Jones

  Other Titles by Celeste Jones

  Celeste Jones

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  Copyright © 2018 Claimed (Eagle Canyon Menage Book One) by Celeste Jones

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this ebook ONLY. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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  Published in the United States of America.

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  Editing by Helen Shade

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  Cover by Melody Simmons

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  This ebook is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Cassie

  * * *

  I'd heard rumors of places like this, I just never thought I'd see it with my own eyes.

  You know those maps the cell phone companies have showing their coverage areas with just a few tiny specks still in white, indicating no coverage? Apparently, I was in a white speck.

  I had not been without a working cell phone by my side for over a decade. It felt a little like flying without a net—the internet.

  Not only that, but I was using my phone for GPS, and now I had no idea where I was going. But since there was only one road, with no turn offs in sight, I just kept moving forward.

  As I thought about it, it was a fitting metaphor for so many things in my life.

  Six years ago, practically within weeks of our honeymoon, my husband was diagnosed with a terminal disease that slowly took him from me. No matter how many doctors and experts we consulted, it was clear our path contained only one road to follow. No turn offs, no roundabouts, no U-turns, no rest areas.

  A dead end. Literally.

  The pangs of heartbreak had lessened over the two years since his passing. Sometimes I'd get through almost an entire day and then two or three without thinking about him…and then I'd feel guilty for that. Damned if I did and damned if I didn't.

  Finally, I had had enough. Enough feeling sorry for myself. Enough being angry. Enough hiding from life.

  The itch to move on, even if by baby steps, had been building for some time, little things that seemed to be signs from beyond. Whether sent by Bret or not, I had no idea, but given the almost prank-like nature of these incidents, I wouldn't be surprised if he was entertaining himself on the other side by pulling the strings on my life.

  First, there was the monthly meeting of the local grief support group. Mostly women, nearly all of them old enough to be my mother—or grandmother—they had been kind and welcoming to me, a real godsend in those early months of widowhood when I was numb and moving through life like a zombie. However, at the most recent meeting, I glanced around the room and noticed every one of them was wearing an applique sweatshirt. Peeking down at myself, I realized that, although it contained no animals or holiday themes, I was still wearing a sweatshirt. I could see the path, and I didn't like it. This was a road where I could make a turn around.

  I might not have the highest standards, but I refuse to wear an applique sweatshirt.

  I went home and purged anything even slightly old-lady-like from my limited wardrobe.

  Then, the following Saturday I answered a knock on the door. It was a group of kids from the church down the street. "We're taking care of widows and orphans like it says to in the Bible. We're here to clean up your yard."

  I looked up at the leader who stood at the back of the group and recognized her as a clerk at the local grocery store. She'd seen me heft my groceries around, but still thought I needed help? Was this how the people in my community saw me? And was my yard so bad that others noticed it?

  I had become a service project.

  About the same time, Bret's old dog, Beau, died peacefully in his sleep. He was my last tie to Bret and, once he was gone, I decided it was time for me to move on as well. To where or what I had no idea, but move on I must.

  Which brought me to my current, unspecified, location.

  It had been awhile since I'd seen another car or even a building. While it felt a little Twilight Zone-y, there was also a freedom and anonymity to the seclusion that felt safe. I rolled down the car window and filled my lungs with the clean air.

  I did a little gawking around. Was that an eagle flying over me? I stuck my head out the window to get a better view. Such beauty and grace. Mesmerized, I forgot I was actually driving a car, so when I heard a sharp honk and tires screeching, it jolted me back to reality whereupon I promptly drove my car into a ditch.

  Luke

  * * *

  I'll admit I was a bit distracted that day.

  Earlier that morning, my mother had been her usual sweet and energetic self, most days that was fine with me. I tend to be a little somber and being around her lightens my mood. I loved Mama. She was cheerful without being sticky sweet.

  However, when she'd informed me that my cousins, Abe and Mark, were getting married, I couldn't help but feel a pang at my own failure. Our failure.

  It wasn't as though I hadn't been looking, but the number of women, like just about everything else in Eagle Canyon, was scarce. Not to mention the specific type of woman we were looking for.

  Aidan and I had certainly spent plenty of time discussing what, or who, we wanted in a spouse, our princess. Finding her seemed to be the bigger issue.

  Molly, who worked at one of the offices at the council building, was nice and we'd taken her out a few times. She'd certainly made her interest clear and Aidan was game to continue courting her, but I felt like when I met the right woman, I'd just know. Feel it deep down in my gut, and everywhere else that mattered too.

  Molly just hadn't hit me with the zing I'd been looking for.

  The zing of true love's arrow had been genetically passed down through generations of my family. Our fathers had felt it when they'd met our mother. Of course, as my mother told the story, they still had to convince her and she'd put them through their paces.

  We were thirty-two, Aidan and I, twins. Twins who were princes.

  And we needed a princess.

  In theory, there was no rush. Our mother, Princess Karen, and our fathers were all in good health. Mostly things ran themselves in Eagle Canyon. I credit the stable leadership of my parents for that.

  All these things rushed around in my head as I drove to town. There's usually no traffic, so it's not like the trip took much focus anyway. I could probably have just pointed my truck in the right direction and it would have taken me there on its own.

  An eagle flying overhead caught my attention. No matter how many times I saw one of the majestic birds in flight, it still gave me a thrill.

  When I was a child, my grandfather had told me about eagles. He s
aid they are a symbol that your life is about to change. That you need to be like an eagle—brave and true to yourself, ready to take on challenges head first—in order to soar in life.

  Suddenly, I felt better, optimistic. An eagle sighting always did that to me.

  I looked back at the road just in time to see a blue car on my side of the pavement—and the driver had her head out the window.

  I laid on the horn and the brakes at the same time and came to a stop before we collided. She didn't do as well. Overreacting, she jerked the wheel too hard then tried to correct, but she ended up in the ditch.

  By the time I got to her, she was just stepping out of the car. Smooth, slender legs in a pair of cut off shorts. Before I even got a look at her face, I felt the zing.

  Chapter 2

  Cassie

  * * *

  I thought the eagle sighting meant good luck, but there I was, sideways in a ditch in the middle of nowhere with no cell service. I'm not sure who I would have called anyway, but it would have been nice to have the option. I could have at least called Ellie and whimpered and whined.

  No! I'd done enough of that already. It was time for me to take charge of my life, and if that meant I had to figure out what to do, then I'd better get out of the car and see the extent of the damage.

  Heaving on the door, I managed to get it open and stepped out into the tall prairie grass. I regretted my decision to wear flip flops that day as I wondered what might be hiding in the thin blades which enveloped my legs up to the knees. Treading as gingerly as I could, I walked around the car surveying the situation, hoping to find nothing major.

  I'm not sure if it was major, but the front passenger side fender was mashed up and the tire was flat. Alone in an area hundreds of miles from anyone I knew, no cell service and my undriveable car stuck in a ditch. This seemed major. I huffed out the breath I'd been holding and considered my limited options.

  "Need some help?"

  Lost in thought, the voice from out of nowhere scared me, and I practically jumped out of my flip flops. I looked up to see the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. Tall and dark, with a black braid that dipped past his broad shoulders, he tipped his hat to me. "Sorry to startle you, miss."

  I stared for so long, he finally waved his hand in front of my face. "Miss? Are you okay? Did you bump your head?"

  I turned my head from side to side to clear the cobwebs. No, I wasn't injured, but a strange sensation pulsed through me, sort of a jab in my heart followed by radiating warmth. Telling myself it was just shock from the accident and then being frightened by the arrival of an insanely handsome man, I finally got myself together enough to speak.

  "I'm fine. Thank you."

  "Are you sure?" He closed the gap between us and probed my temple with capable fingers. For a large powerful man, the brush of his hand on my flesh was surprisingly gentle. Unwittingly, I leaned into his touch, his wide palm cupped the side of my face, the strange sensation I'd noticed when I first saw him, hummed to life again.

  After a moment, we stepped away from each other, an awkward feeling hanging between us. Nervous, I started to jabber. I'm cool in every situation.

  "I'm sure I didn't hit my head. I was wearing my seatbelt. I always wear my seat belt. There was an eagle and I'd never seen one before, so I stuck my head out the window to look it, and I guess I wasn't paying attention, and when you honked, I freaked out and then I ended up in the ditch."

  Apparently he was the strong silent type because he just stared at me, his black eyes piercing through me like he could see into my soul.

  Freakishly uncomfortable with the silence and his probing eyes, I babbled on. "Thank you for stopping. My cell phone doesn't seem to be working out here, and I didn't know how I was going to get any help."

  "My pleasure, miss." His voice was like a warm honey bath washing over me. I probably should have crawled back into my car and locked the door. This man was dangerous.

  No, not in the 'creepy man who drives around finding stranded women broken down on lonely roads' sort of way, but in the 'oh my god I am just getting on with my life after nursing my sick husband for years and mourning him for two more years, and I'm just not sure what is happening to me right now, and what is that feeling in my tummy' sort of way.

  "Well," I said, "if you could just tell me which way to the closest auto repair shop, I'll go make arrangements to get my car towed out of here." I reached into the open window of the car and grabbed my purse, slung it onto my shoulder and prepared to march off into the sunset in search of help.

  He tipped his head to the side and studied me, the corner of his mouth turning up as I felt his eyes scan down my body, paying particular attention to my cut-off shorts, bare legs and lingered for a moment on my feet. If it was possible for toes to blush, I think mine did. "It's four miles to town." He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think those shoes are a good choice?"

  Well, what was I supposed to do now? He was right. Even if the shoes didn't fall apart by the time I got to town, my feet would be covered with blisters.

  I could ask him for a ride, but I had set out on this trip with the intention of taking care of myself. I refused to be another service project. In answer to his question about the appropriateness of my shoes, I rolled up my car window and locked the vehicle, repositioned my purse on my shoulder and headed down the road.

  It didn't take long for me to regret my decision, but I also did not want this man, this disturbingly attractive man, to see me give in so soon.

  He didn't even offer me a ride!

  As I stomped along, trying to walk a safe distance from the road while also not getting too close to the prairie grass, a vehicle stopped next to me. Startled, I stumbled a bit and gave my ankle a twist. I righted myself and glared at the truck and the man driving it.

  The passenger side window lowered, and the sexy man with the long black braid said, "I'd like to give you a ride to town. Would you please get in?"

  Geez, I'd only made it about twenty yards on my own. How could I give in already? My ankle started to throb, but I could not bring myself to agree to his offer.

  "If my mama found out I let a lady walk all the way to town, in a pair of flip flops no less, she'd have my hide. You don't want that to happen, do you?" He tilted his head to the side with a slow smile.

  My body betrayed me on every level. In response to the naughty warmth curling low in my belly, my hand reached over and opened the door. Next thing I knew, I had hoisted myself up into his truck.

  "Thank you," he said as I shut the door. "Make sure you buckle up."

  I reached for the seat belt and as soon as I had stretched the buckle across the front of my body, my driver took it from my grasp and inserted it into the lock. The back of his hand brushed against my hip as he completed the task, and my breath caught in my throat at the contact.

  "I'm Luke, Luke Carson," he said, holding out his hand.

  "Cassie, Cassie Gray." I laid my palm against his and our eyes met and time froze for a moment.

  Oh… I should not have gotten into that truck.

  I snatched my hand away and tried not to look like I was panicking. "Thank you for the ride, Luke. It was lucky that you stopped."

  He put the truck in gear and headed down the road. "It is my pleasure."

  "Would your mother really have your hide, as you say?" I could not resist the urge to flirt. Maybe I had hit my head.

  "You can count on it. The Princess does not tolerate ungentlemanly behavior."

  "You call your mother The Princess? How cute. What do you call your father?"

  "Most people call them The Princes, though we are not too formal, so mostly we just call them Papa."

  "Them? Are your parents divorced?"

  "Oh no," he said, looking me directly in the eyes. "No one in Eagle Canyon gets divorced."

  "No one? How is that possible?"

  Before Luke could answer, the truck stopped in front of an old-fashioned looking
gas station and a man in a clean white uniform came running out, doffing his hat as soon as he saw Luke. "Good afternoon, sir, miss," he said, turning from Luke to me.

  Luke explained the situation to him and I handed over my keys.

  "Shouldn't I ride along?"

  "No," Luke said, "we're going to see the doctor about your ankle."

  I opened my mouth to object, but Luke pierced me with his dark dominant gaze and I was helpless to do anything but his bidding.

  Chapter 3

  Cassie

  * * *

  As we drove through town, I tore my gaze off Luke and glanced around the little community of Eagle Canyon. It was so quiet and peaceful. Lots of pick-up trucks lined the streets, though where they all came from, I had no idea since I'd been driving and had barely seen any traffic. Maybe they all came from the other direction. As usual, I was likely going the wrong way.

  Not a chain restaurant or big blue store in sight. It felt a little like Mayberry.

  Instead of pulling up in front of an urgent care as I'd expected, Luke parked the truck in front of a two-story wood frame house with a small sign in front, 'Aidan Carson, MD.'

  I turned to Luke. "I don't have an appointment. I won't be able to see a doctor today." I glanced at the clock on the dash of the truck. "It's nearly lunchtime as it is. Can you just take me to the pharmacy for an ice pack?"

  Wow, I had gone from not wanting to accept any help, to asking this guy to chauffeur me around town.