Page 24 of Under an Oklahoma Sky

Grabbing two gallons of milk and the string cheese Jenna loved, Sage checked that she had everything on her list. She then headed toward the registers without a backward glance at the three witches, who probably already had their cell phones out and were texting or calling their rumor-mill contacts. Well, it wasn’t the first time she’d been in the line of fire of small-town gossip, and she doubted it would be her last.

She had always thought of herself as strong and confident, and when Mark died, she had thankfully been able to draw on that strength. Before the children came along, she’d worked side by side with her husband on the ranch and learned everything she needed to run it efficiently, from caring for the animals to balancing the books. She’d made plenty of contacts in the breeding world, so when she began making the calls to promote the new bloodlines herself, people already knew her, and she’d earned their respect.

However, with Adam easing his way into her heart, she was getting used to having a man around again—a strong man she could lean on when times got tough. Someone who would hold her at night and make her feel cherished. A life partner she could love and grow old with. But was he really that man? Or would she wake up one day and find him gone?

Maybe it was time to find out.

She could no longer deny she wanted him in her life. She would always love Mark, but he wouldn’t have wanted her to spend the rest of her life alone and mourning him. If there really was an afterlife with conscious thought, maybe her husband had sent Adam to her because he couldn’t be there himself.

Well, whatever the reason Adam was there, it was time to let him know how she felt and find out if he wanted the same things she did.

Sage, darlin’, it’s time to up the ante. If you want the man to stay, maybe you should give him a reason to.

Wiping his brow, Adam grabbed two bottles of water from the cooler in the bed of Evan’s truck and poured one into an aluminum bowl for Benji, who’d been lying in the vehicle’s shade. It was ninety-six degrees outside, a week before the Fourth of July holiday, and forecasters expected another row of storms to roll through soon. The sky was growing darker, and Adam estimated he had about fifteen minutes before he needed to pack up and head back to the barn.

He and Evan had spent the morning repairing the fence between Sage’s property and Bart Sherman’s, about sixty yards from where the land began sloping up into the tree-covered hills. It was the last section with older wooden posts that needed replacing after recently showing signs of rot.

About an hour ago, after Sage returned from the supermarket, Maddie had driven the boss’s truck out to where the men were working and picked up Evan. He had an appointment for his annual checkup and, according to his wife, would have conveniently forgotten about it if she hadn’t dragged him there herself. Apparently, the older man hated doctors.

Downing the entire bottle of water, Adam screwed the cap back on and tossed it into the truck bed next to the cooler as he eyed the approaching clouds. Their angry color reminded him of a conversation he’d had with Evan a few days ago.

“Do we get many tornadoes around here?” he’d asked. “I noticed the outdoor cellar behind my cottage and assume that’s what it’s for.”

Evan had shaken his head. “Thankfully, we don’t get many in this area. The last one that even came close to here was about twenty years ago, and it was still fifteen miles away. Maddie and I were actually lucky that day. We were in Walmart when the sirens went off. Everyone huddled in the back of the store when we heard that monster roar in. The building shook but stayed standing. And just like that, it was over. When we got outside, all the stores on the opposite side of the highway were destroyed. On our side, there was a ton of debris in the parking lots but no damage to the buildings. I always said it was like God flipped a coin, and the other side of the highway lost. By some miracle, only two people died. It could’ve been a lot more.”

Adam had heard similar analogies before. People found it hard to understand how someone standing in the wrong place at the wrong time could die while another person two feet away was spared.

This would be the third round of bad weather within a week. Thankfully, the skies had remained clear for Jenna’s dance the other night. The elementary school cafeteria had been transformed into a pink, white, and purple fantasy ballroom for the young girls and their fathers or father figures. It also gave Adam a chance to socialize with other men in town. He’d met quite a few during the two-day barn raising and others had introduced themselves to him at the dance.

While most of his new acquaintances had been friendly enough, a few had eyed him with distrust for most of the evening. Chris Miller, Ashley’s husband, had hung out with him for most of the dance while his daughter, Lucy, played with Jenna. Chris had told Adam to give those people the middle finger, but he'd passed on the suggestion. Their attitudes toward him weren’t unexpected, and as long as Jenna had a good time, nothing else mattered. He was learning to live with the proverbial scarlet letter on his chest.

After the quick water break, he finished repairing the last section of fence just in time. A gray curtain of rain was sweeping across Bart Sherman’s expansive property, and lightning flashed in the distance. He needed to hurry if he was going to beat it back to the house.

He gathered his tools and placed them with the old, rotted posts in the truck bed. As he bent down to pick up the remaining roll of fence wire, something struck the dirt beside it, sending a puff of dust into the air.

A split second later, he heard the rifle shot.

Someone’s shooting at me!

Leaving the large spool where it sat, he dove toward the pickup truck just as another bullet struck the ground where he’d been a split second earlier. Ducking behind the engine block, he tried to assess what was happening. There shouldn’t be any hunters up in the woods, which meant the shots were no accident. Someone up there was deliberately trying to kill him.

“Benji! Come here, boy!” The dog obeyed immediately and ran to Adam’s side. “Good boy. Stay.”

A close crack of thunder nearly had him jumping out of his skin, thinking for an instant there was another shooter to the west. Even Benji startled and whined, but stayed beside him. If they didn’t get out of there soon, he and the dog would be sitting ducks for not only the maniac in the woods but the lightning striking all around them.

Taking a chance on getting shot in the foot, Adam dropped lower and crab-crawled forward until he could open the truck’s passenger door. Evan’s phone was in the center console, and a loaded rifle hung in the rack behind the seats. Grabbing the cell, Adam almost dropped it when the driver’s window exploded, peppering him with shattered glass.

“Holy—” Snatching the rifle from its perch, he slammed the door shut and huddled behind the engine block. Benji practically glued his furry self to Adam’s thigh.

Dialing 9-1-1, he prayed Sage and the kids were safe back at the main house.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” a bored female voice asked.

“This is Adam Westfield out at Heaven’s Pastures. There’s a sniper in the north woods shooting at me.”

“A sniper? You mean a hunter?”

He almost rolled his eyes. “No, I mean a sniper has shot at me three times. Send patrol out here and tell them to be careful.”