in Greece. The scenery, as always, was good, and he was, as usual, feeling lucky.
Except for the nagging sensation that something wasn’t quite right. The general and his daughters had gone into town—or the small fishing village that passed for a town—leaving Luke to his own devices. They’d acted a bit secretive, claiming they wanted to go by themselves, insisting they didn’t need a bodyguard.
This was unusual, as he was normally treated as part of the family. Maybe that’s what had his senses on edge. The general had insisted that he stay behind and watch the boat, when always before he’d insisted Luke watch his girls.
His neck prickled, a telltale warning that he was being watched. He knew it. That lucky feeling of warning had dug him out of investments just before they sank, and human relationships just before they got dramatic. Now it was sending shivers along his nerves. Rising, he scanned the horizon. Nothing at sea and nothing unusual from the dock into the quiet village, where fisherman worked their trade and women shopped and chatted.
A man suddenly leaped over the side of the yacht with a fluid flash of tanned skin. “Peace, brother,” he said, and Luke wondered where this American had come from. Luke reached for his gun, but the big man said, “No,” just as another figure appeared by his side to take it.
“Sorry,” the wiry accomplice said. “We don’t do guns. They’re dangerous.”
Luke thought he was perhaps looking danger in the face. The accomplice had long dark hair pulled tight into a ponytail and deep, serious eyes. These two wanted something, but if they wanted him dead, it would have happened without him having a chance to take a second breath. Damn, I’m slipping. “What’s up, fellows?”
“I’m Hawk,” the wiry stranger said, “and this is my buddy, Jellyfish. We know some of your people in Union Junction and Tulips, and we’ve had to come a long way to meet you, my friend.”
Luke raised his brows. “Friend?”
Hawk nodded. “In the loosest manner of speaking. Friend of a friend, perhaps.”
Jellyfish nodded solemnly. “Of course, we’re not sure yet if you’re really our friend.”
Luke sighed. “Okay. I’ll bite. What do I have to do to be your friend?”
Hawk seated himself while Jellyfish kept a lookout. Hawk ran admiring fingers over the yacht rail as he glanced speculatively at Luke. “You need to make a trip to Tulips part of your itinerary.”
“My father sent you?”
Hawk shook his head. “No. He doesn’t know we’re here. But it’s time to return to your birthplace.”
“No,” Luke said, frowning. “Not a chance in hell.”
Jellyfish dropped a hand to his shoulder, setting off alarms inside Luke. “It would be better if you did, friend.”
Jeez. “Look. Not that it’s any of your damn business, but my dad and me…we never got along. The old man pretty much thought I was a failure no matter what. Why he’s crying over me now is a mystery.”
“You should respect your elders,” Jellyfish said, and Hawk nodded.
“Not to mention that running away doesn’t solve anything.” Hawk eyed Luke pointedly. “But we weren’t sent by your father.”
“Speaking of that, how in the hell did you find me?” Luke demanded.
“Wasn’t hard,” Hawk said, and Jellyfish laughed.
“Ex-military connections,” he explained. “Sometimes it shaves a few weeks off a mission for us.”
Bingo. No wonder the general had scrammed with his precious trio. “Just great.” Luke shook his head. “So, do I even have employment anymore? Or did you tell the general what a bad guy I was just so I’d go home?”
Hawk grinned, leaning back against the rail. “Actually, you’re getting a paid leave of absence. At least until you make up your mind.”
Luke frowned, annoyed that his luck had finally run out. He also wasn’t thrilled with the breezy way in which his life was being decided for him. “And the general and his daughters?”
Jellyfish smiled. “We’ve agreed to take over here until a replacement for you can be found. The general said it shouldn’t be too hard.”
Luke stood. “Just great. A year of my life and I’m not that hard to replace.”
Hawk shrugged. “Depends upon whose opinion you’re interested in, I would imagine. Someone might think you’re worth a hell of a lot. Then again, maybe not. Guess only you know that.”
Jellyfish nodded. “The answer lies within.”
Luke gave each man a sharp look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Jellyfish shook his head. “Would you like an escort to Tulips?”
“You mean a guard?” Luke snorted. “I think I can manage it. Thanks, pals.”
They grinned, setting themselves up on the deck. “You can borrow our little bicycle there,” Hawk offered. “You just ride up into town and a fishing boat can take you back to the big island to catch a plane. You can be home by this weekend. The sun is heavenly here, isn’t it, buddy?”
Luke ignored that, and went to pack his things. Boiling anger rolled through him. Of all the stinking tricks his old man had to pull, sending goons after him was the worst. He would have gone home eventually…one day.
No, I wouldn’t. I never want to see Tulips again, or anyone who lives there.
“Just peachy,” he muttered to himself, hopping out of the boat with his few belongings and giving his new “friends” a rude gesture. They laughed, and Luke privately cursed the general for so easily giving him up.
This was not his definition of being lucky.
ONCE PEPPER HAD introduced her children to the Triple F and let them settle in for a few days, she quietly—over Duke’s and Zach’s protests—moved them into the small home she’d bought. Pepper wanted to make the move together, she and the boys sleeping under one roof for the first time in Tulips as a family, so they would know that she’d bought the house for them. The house was made of red brick with white shutters, of a typical ranch style, and close to the clinic. She loved it, and so far, it seemed Toby and Josh did, too. There were bedrooms for all of them—even one for Aunt Jerry, once she came to stay—room to spread out and a huge backyard.
Either Duke or Zach stopped by every day, picking up the boys to run errands with them. They had a thousand excuses for spending time with their nephews. This gave Pepper time to clean the clinic and establish her practice, but most importantly, it gave her time to think about what she’d told the boys over the years about their father.
She’d been as honest about Luke as possible, deciding that the truth always came back to haunt a person. Carefully, she told the boys—when they asked—that their father hadn’t been ready for marriage, nor had she. She also admitted that she hadn’t told Luke about them. One day, when the time was right, she promised, they would find him and tell him.
Toby and Josh had been all right with that, somehow understanding that she was genuinely trying to act in their best interests to the utmost of her ability. As a doctor, she’d presented the facts gently; as a mother, she’d waited anxiously for tears, recriminations, bitterness.
The boys had simply taken the information into their hearts, knowing that one day they would meet their father.
Pepper glanced around the clinic. It was freshly painted and all her diplomas and certifications had been hung. She was proud of what she had accomplished. If she could make a go of this, she hoped to bring on a pediatric specialist in the future and maybe enlarge the clinic. Tulips deserved a good medical complex. That, as much as good schools, would bring people to their town, she figured. Moreover, she wanted