The Wolf And The Dove

It’s been so difficult staying behind the scenes and having to play dead while my family needs me.

I almost missed the birth of my granddaughter Caroline’s little baby. But luckily my faithful friend Sterling helped me sneak into the nursery. What a precious bundle of joy! I’m so relieved that mother and baby are doing fine.

I’m also keeping a close eye on my granddaughter Rachel—I mean “Rocky.” She was never like her glamorous twin, Allie. Rocky was always a tomboy, downplaying her looks, though she is quite a lovely girl. I’ve always encouraged and nurtured her adventurous spirit, which is why I left her my airplanes. Now she can finally have her own business and do what she loves best—flying. I just know she’s going to soar in the wilds of Wyoming. Now, if only she could meet Mr. Right….

A LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear Reader,

I grew up with two brothers and a sister and an extended family of uncles and an aunt who were close enough in age to be siblings. So, being part of a large, involved family is as natural to me as breathing. We played and argued and watched out for each other as children, and nothing’s really changed now that we’re all adults—though we do argue a lot less! Naturally, I was thrilled when I was asked to write a book for the FORTUNE’S CHILDREN series.

Writing Rocky’s story turned out to be an added bonus because she and Allie are identical twins, and I, too, have an identical twin sister—Brenda. We’re best friends and always have been. And yes, we still get asked if we’re twins whenever we go out in public together. People will probably still be asking us that when we’re eighty!

I also found Kate Fortune to be a fascinating character. I, too, had strong, spunky grandmothers who knew what they wanted out of life and went after it. One even joined the circus with my grandfather and traveled all over the country back in the thirties and forties. Neither of them ever flew off to the jungles of South America by themselves, but they might have if they’d been given the chance.

I hope you like The Wolf and the Dove. I loved working with the other authors and, like you, look forward to reading their books on the Fortune Family. Enjoy!

To my twin sister, Brenda Murray—

my best friend and partner in crime

who was there from the beginning

LINDA TURNER

always knew she was going to be a writer—with the wonderful characters in her family, how could she be anything else? Her grandfather snuck her and her twin sister into a circus tent when she was eight, and her parents never came across a road they didn’t want to explore. Consequently, life has always been a series of adventures to be savored to the fullest, which is why she worked for the FBI, spent a summer at a Boy Scout camp as a cook and longs to see the Pyramids in Egypt.

Meet the Fortunes—three generations of a family with a legacy of wealth, influence and power. As they unite to face an unknown enemy, shocking family secrets are revealed…and passionate new romances are ignited.

RACHEL “ROCKY” FORTUNE: The spirited beauty thrives on risks, so she ventures to the wilderness of Wyoming to start her own search-and-rescue business. But is she brave enough to take a chance on love?

LUKE GREYWOLF: The dedicated Native American doctor harbors a tragic secret and vows never to love again. But passionate Rachel arouses feelings too long denied….

MONICA MALONE: The legendary movie star is obsessed with revenge. She’ll use seduction and blackmail to get her share of the Fortune empire…at any cost.

ADAM FORTUNE: Former military officer. He could keep order in the ranks, but he couldn’t control his kids! Can this handsome single dad learn some lessons in fatherhood—and love?

LIZ JONES—CELEBRITY GOSSIP

Fellow gossips, here’s the latest dirt on the Fortunes:

That darling Caroline and her sexy scientist husband announced the birth of their first child! Who would’ve thought this green-card marriage would end so joyously?

And Kyle reunited with an old flame and discovered he had a love child. I can’t believe this city slicker is settling down on the Wyoming ranch for good. Ugh! All that dirt and grime…but of course I wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay with a rugged cowboy!

But there’s no gossip juicier than the scandalous break-up of Jake and Erica. Already my sources have spotted that louse with another woman. Poor Erica! If I were her, I’d go straight to the La Dee Da Spa, run up those credit cards at chic boutiques and forget all about that gorgeous hunk…. No wallowing in self-pity for me!

Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a feeling something big is about to happen with those unpredictable Fortunes….

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

One

With his usual enthusiasm, Michael Hawk gave Dr. Luke Greywolf a fierce hug, then ran out of the examining room as fast as his injured leg would allow, his attention jumping to the toy he would pick out at the nurses’ station before he left with his mother. A muscle clenching in his square jaw, Luke watched the five-year-old awkwardly make his way down the hall and swore, long and fierce. The boy needed a good orthopedic surgeon and surgery to correct a break that hadn’t healed properly six months ago, but he wasn’t likely to get either. His father was a day laborer, and what money there was went for food and clothes, not health insurance. Surgery, however necessary, was a luxury that was out of reach.

“Don’t beat yourself up over this,” Mary Littlejohn, his nurse, said quietly from behind him. “You’re doing all you can.”

“It’s not enough,” he said flatly, turning away to wash his hands. “That kid’s going to live with a limp the rest of his life, and it doesn’t have to be that way, dammit. If I could get him to Jeremy Stevens in Jackson—”

Mary cut in with the bluntness of a longtime friend. “But you can’t. His parents are proud—they won’t take handouts. And you’re already helping more people than you can afford to.”

“Don’t start,” he growled.

He might as well have saved his breath. Old enough to be his mother, Mary had been speaking her mind from the first day she came to work for him, three years ago, when he opened the clinic. “Somebody has to say something, and I’m just the person to do it. I know you came home to help people, but you’ve got to be sensible about it, Greywolf. Half the patients you see never carry through on their promise to pay, and you just let it go. That’s no way to run a business. You’ve got your own bills to pay.”

“I’m making it,” he said shortly. There was no way he was going to hound people who could barely put groceries on the table for the money for shots for their kids. “Who’s next?”

“Jane Birdsong,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers. “Then old man Thompson, Bill Parsons, Abigail Wilson, and Rachel Fortune.”

Reaching for the Birdsong chart, Luke threw her a sharp glance of surprise. “Fortune? As in one of old lady Kate’s brood?”

Mary’s faded blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “The one and only. If I remember correctly, this one belongs to Jake…one of the twins, I think.”

“And she’s here to see me?”

Chuckling at his suspicious tone, she nodded. “So she says. Word must have gotten out what a good doctor you are.”

He snorted at that. “Get real, Mary. We’re talking about the Fortunes, remember? The stinking-rich ones who hang out with the Kennedys and Rockefellers? The old lady had enough money to buy every major hospital in the country—somehow I can’t see her granddaughter going to a rural clinic for medical care unless she was dying. Did she look sick?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “I’d have given my eye teeth to look that sick at her age. Want me to show her in?”

Curious, Luke nodded. “Room three,” he began, only to stop short, scowling. What the hell was he doing? He had sick patients in the waiting room, poor people who would wait without complaint for as long as it took to see him. Rachel Fortune couldn’t just waltz in like she owned the place and cut to the head of the line because he couldn’t imagine what she wanted with him and her family had more money than God.

“Forget that,” he growled. “She can wait her turn just like everyone else. Show Mr. Thompson into three.”

“You’re the boss,” Mary said with a shrug, and went to do his bidding.

When Rocky was shown into an examining room nearly two hours later, she stopped in surprise. “Oh, I’m not here for an exam,” she told the nurse hurriedly. “I have a business proposition to discuss with Dr. Greywolf. I know I should have called first, but I was afraid he’d be booked up and it’d be weeks before I could see him.”

“And you didn’t want to wait,” Mary guessed shrewdly, grinning.

Caught in the trap of the older woman’s friendly, knowing eyes, Rocky couldn’t help but laugh. “What can I say? I was born a month early, and I’ve been in a hurry ever since. Is it always this busy around here?”

Her blue eyes twinkling, Mary said, “Busy? Today’s a slow day. Most nights we’re lucky to get out of here by eight.” Taking a quick inventory to make sure everything in the room was as it should be, she motioned to the straight-backed chair positioned against the wall. “Have a seat. I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got another wait. Dr. Greywolf will get to you as soon as possible.”

Rocky thanked her, but as soon as the door shut quietly behind the nurse she realized there was no way she was going to be able to just sit there and wait. She was too nervous, too anxious, too excited. For four months now, ever since she’d inherited a helicopter and three single-engine planes from her grandmother, she’d been searching for the perfect locale to start her own flying service. She’d checked out everywhere from Estes Park to Jackson Hole to Vail, and in the end she’d found what she was looking for practically in the backyard of her grandmother’s Wyoming ranch.

Shaking her head over her own stupidity, she wondered why she hadn’t thought of Clear Springs sooner. It was a small town, rough and rugged and charmingly flavored with the old West, and she’d always loved it. Invitingly situated between the Ghost Mountains to the north and a Shoshone Indian reservation to the south, it drew a respectable number of tourists in the summer and its share of hunters and hikers in the fall and winter. And, incredibly, there were no pilots for hire in the area to take hunters into the mountains or fly search-and-rescue in case of an emergency. The situation couldn’t have been better if her grandmother had arranged things for her in heaven.

Which Kate just might have done, she admitted with a rueful flash of dimples. There hadn’t been much that Katherine Winfield Fortune hadn’t done or tried in life. She’d gone her own way, done her own thing, always with a style that was legendary. She was the one who’d taught Rocky to fly when she was sixteen, and if there was a way to pull strings from heaven, Kate would have found a way.

Memories swamped Rocky. She still found it hard to believe Kate was dead. How could a woman who was so full of spirit, of life, let death take her in a plane crash in some godforsaken jungle? Kate had been tougher than that, stronger. And too good a pilot to let a plane she was flying go down so easily. She would have fought like hell to keep it in the air; and then, when it became clear that wasn’t going to be possible, she would have found a way to land the thing. And she would have walked away, dammit. She should have.

Only she hadn’t.

Her throat tight, Rocky swallowed. Lord, she missed her. Kate had always understood her need for independence, her need to stand on her own two feet and cut herself free of the Fortune money, Fortune Cosmetics, Fortune expectations. And with her death, she’d given her the means to do that. Thanks to Kate, she had her planes, experience flying in the mountains, and the emergency medical training Kate had insisted she take when she got her commercial pilot’s license. She’d taken care of everything.

Except a landing field.

Her cousin Kyle, who had inherited her grandmother’s ranch, had graciously offered to let her use the facilities there, but Rocky’s stubborn pride had refused to let her accept. She’d grown up with advantages most people couldn’t even dream of, and it was time she proved she could stand on her own two feet. That meant no favors from family, no free business advice, nothing. She would either succeed or fail, all by herself.

Which meant she still needed an airstrip. And the only other private one in the area was owned by Luke Greywolf.

The place had once belonged to Douglas Aeronautics, and Luke had bought it for a song—not, according to the locals, because he planned to reopen the old flying service that had gone belly-up during the oil embargo of the seventies, but because the land was cheap and close to the reservation. He’d turned the largest building on the property into a clinic and hot-topped the parking lot, but other than that, he’d made few other changes. The hangar was still rusted and the runway pitted and unused, and that was what she wanted to talk to the good doctor about.

She’d heard he was a reasonable man, so she didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t do business together…except for the clinic sign out front. Made of wood and painted a dull gray, it would have been plain and unobtrusive if not for the face of a wolf that had been carved into the rough wood by a talented hand. She had a sinking feeling that that sign said a lot about Luke Greywolf. If he was anything like the wolf in his name and as protective of his territory, then making a deal with him wasn’t going to be quite as easy as she’d hoped.

She wasn’t Kate Fortune’s granddaughter for nothing, however. Kate had taught her that when a woman wanted something in a man’s world, she had to pull out all the stops, and that was just what she’d done. Turning toward the mirror on the wall by the small dressing area, she took a quick inventory of herself and grinned. Lord, she looked like Allie today! Of course, most of the world thought she looked like her twin sister every day, but she knew better. Oh, they were identical right down to their toes, but it was Allie who loved makeup and glamour and had been born with the style that made her the perfect choice as the model for Fortune Cosmetics.

And Rocky didn’t envy her one little bit. She would have hated the fuss and bother and never being able to step out in public without worrying about her mascara being smudged or her hair limp. But on a day when she needed everything going for her, Rocky decided with a chuckle, looking like her sister couldn’t hurt. Giving her image in the mirror one last critical glance, she nodded, satisfied. If Lucas Greywolf could turn down her proposal when she looked this good, then the man didn’t have any blood in his veins.

Luke made a few quick notes in Abigail Wilson’s file, his brows knitting as he stared down at comments he’d made after her previous visits. She was pregnant with her sixth child and couldn’t afford to feed the five she already had. She seemed cheerful enough, but she couldn’t hide the stress in her eyes. Like all the women on the reservation, she wanted more for her children but knew the odds were against them. The lucky ones scraped and fought and found a way out the first chance they got. The rest stayed and struggled just to exist. There was nothing else they could do.

Frustrated, irritated, he closed the file and handed it to Mary. “Rachel Fortune still here?”

She nodded. “Room one. And not one word of complaint out of her when I showed her in there. In fact, she apologized to me for stopping in without an appointment—said she needed to talk to you. I thought she’d be snooty, but she’s been real nice.”

Reserving judgment, Luke merely grunted. The lady had to want something real bad if she’d sat over two hours in a waiting room full of sick patients to see him when she wasn’t even sick. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s a regular princess,” he drawled, heading for the door. “It shouldn’t take long to find out what she wants. Show Christie Eagle and her mother into three and tell them I’ll be right with them.”

His rugged face set in grim lines, he strode down the hall to examining room one, going over in his head what he knew about the Fortune family. It wasn’t much. The old lady, Kate, had died recently in a plane crash, and from what he’d heard about her, she’d been one sharp cookie. She’d ruled the family empire with a firm hand, and if the falling price of Fortune Cosmetics stock was anything to go by, her absence was already being felt.

So what did Kate’s granddaughter want with him? he wondered with a frown. They didn’t exactly run in the same circles. Apart from her cousin Kyle, whom he occasionally saw in town, he wouldn’t know her or the rest of the clan if he passed them on the street. And that was just fine with him. Because of the family’s connection to the town, the local paper faithfully reported every tidbit of gossip about the clan, and by all accounts, the younger Fortunes were wild, willful, and spoiled, not to mention attracted to danger. Just last week, he’d read about Rachel’s exploits at a charity air show. She’d been performing stunts—stunts, for God’s sake!—when her plane nearly stalled. She’d managed to pull out of it, but she could have just as easily crashed and killed not only herself, but dozens of innocent people on the ground.

Luke had little use for that kind of irresponsibility. The whole bunch was too used to doing what they damn well pleased. They flew in to the ranch when they wanted to play cowboy and flew out again when they grew bored with the game. From what he could see, they’d never done a hard day’s work in their life.

Reaching the examining room where Rachel waited, he pushed the door open and soundlessly stepped inside to find her standing with her back to him, examining his diploma from medical school, which was framed and hanging on the far wall. Determined to keep this short and sweet, he said, “Ms. Fortune? I understand you wanted to talk to me—”

That was as far as he got. She turned then, a smile of welcome flirting with the edges of her mouth, and he felt the impact clear across the room. Stopping dead in his tracks, he would have sworn she knocked him out of his shoes. This was Rachel Fortune?

He’d expected her to be attractive—money and good looks just seemed to go hand in hand—and her grandmother had started one of the most successful cosmetic companies in the world. With good bone structure and skin, not to mention the right makeup, any woman could be reasonably pretty.

Pretty didn’t even begin to describe the woman before him, however. With her sculptured cheeks, slanting brows and large dark brown eyes, she could have stopped traffic in any city in the world, but here in Clear Springs, where the harsh winters dried the skin and added years to a woman’s face, she was as breathtaking and unexpected as a rose in the snow. And he couldn’t stop staring. Tall and slim, she was dressed for business in a somber black wool suit and stark white blouse, but the effect was ruined by the way the fit of the skirt emphasized her slender waist and the impossibly long length of her legs. And then there was her hair. Wine red, it fell in a soft, sweeping curve to her angled jaw, just begging for a man’s touch.

He’d always been a sucker for red hair.

The thought slipped up on him like a craving in the night, easing into his blood in a sudden flash of heat that caught him totally off guard. Stunned, he stiffened, guilt and resentment twisting in his gut. He hadn’t looked twice at a woman in the two years since Jan had died, and he didn’t plan to start now with someone like Lady Fortune here, who had the world at her feet. He only had to see the amusement glinting in those big brown eyes of hers to know that not only was she aware of the effect she had on men, she expected it. If that was what she was here for, she’d made a wasted trip.

“I’m Dr. Greywolf,” he said coolly. “What can I do for you, Ms. Fortune?”

Caught in his intense dark brown eyes, Rocky hesitated, her smile wavering and her heart, for no reason that she could understand, suddenly jumping crazily in her breast. Okay, she acknowledged, he was a good-looking man, if you liked the stony type. She didn’t. She liked a man who laughed easily, at himself and the world. That did not in any way, shape or form appear to describe Luke Greywolf.

There was no glint of humor in his nearly black eyes, no smile to relieve the lean, chiseled features of his square face. Tall and broad-shouldered in a white lab coat, his straight, inky-black hair cut conservatively short, he stood like a pine in the forest that didn’t bend, his proud Shoshone heritage stamped all over him. It was there in the width of his brow, the granite-hard set of his jaw, his blade of a nose. And it was there in his eyes. Never taking his gaze from her, he watched her like a wary hawk that just dared her to make a wrong move.

It wasn’t, Rocky decided, swallowing to ease the sudden dryness in her throat, a look she particularly cared for. Her nerve endings bristling, she reminded herself that she didn’t have to like the man to do business with him, then gave him a smile that had, in the past, left more than one un-suspecting male panting. “Please…call me Rocky.”

Far from impressed, he arched a disbelieving brow. “Rocky Fortune? I thought your name was Rachel.”

“It is,” she said. “But I earned the nickname when I gave my brother a black eye when I was ten, and it just sort of stuck.” Crossing the room to him, she held out her hand and grinned. “I’ve still got a wicked left, but I haven’t punched anybody out in years. It’s nice to meet you, Doc. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Most people, upon hearing the story about her nickname, wanted to know what her brother had done to her to provoke her into punching his lights out, but Luke Greywolf only stared at her hand before reluctantly taking it in a quick shake that was over almost before it had begun. “I understand you wanted to talk to me,” he said curtly. “If this is about a contribution to one of the local charities—”

He hadn’t so much as moved, but Rocky could feel him mentally pushing her toward the door. “It isn’t,” she said quickly. “Actually, I have a business proposition for you.”

Luke couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d said she wanted to buy him a Ferrari. Stepping farther into the room, he shut the door behind him, closing out the noise rolling down the hall from the waiting room. In the sudden silence, his brown eyes, dark with suspicion, met hers. “Is this some kind of joke? You can probably buy and sell me a hundred times over, Ms. Fortune. What kind of business could we possibly have in common?”