Page 1 of Autumn be His Wife (Alphas Fall Hard Collection #4)

Dusty

My eyes crack open just two minutes shy of my alarm. Before I’m tempted to snooze the alarm, I force my body into a sitting position and groan. Must have slept wrong. Stretching, I get up and start my morning.

Clinging to my usual routine, one hot shower, and a pot full of freshly brewed coffee later, I’m ready to take on the day. But first, I need my company. My world.

Knocking on Eli’s door, I make my way inside to see that he has better sleep habits than his old man. Unfortunately, I have to be the one to reel him in and interrupt whatever peaceful dreams a kid his age could be having.

“Up and at ‘em.” Yawning the words, I flip on the light and squint right along him as we’re both blinded.

Takes effort not to crack a smile and tease him for the way his hair whips up into a cowlick as he shifts to sit up.

He’s got his mother’s soft brown hair, but he’s got my eyes. Dark brown and narrowed. Even now, they look exhausted and annoyed. Thankfully, he’s not in the mood to put up a fight. I’ll take a good morning any day.

Seeing as he’s been insisting that he can pick out his own outfits for the school day, I let him pick and choose what to wear, telling myself that I’ll only intervene if his choices are a little too over the top.

Makes me wonder if he’s already got himself a girlfriend in class he wants to impress. If he’s like his father, I’m sure he’d try whatever it takes to get her attention. Like a peacock showing off its feathers.

Fetching breakfast, I only spill a couple of drops of milk this time around as I rush to get Eli his favorite cereal. Before I hand him the spoon, I steal a bite to make sure it’s worthy. Tastes like too much sugar to consume before the sun lifts above the horizon, but I let him go crazy.

While he inhales each bite, I enjoy a cup of coffee with a splash of hazelnut creamer.

It’s the little things in life that keep the world spinning.

Checking the time on the stove, I’m the one who has to rush him along.

Needing to head out so I can get him to school, I’m abandoning him long enough to shove my boots on.

By the time I’ve hunted down both of our jackets, he’s shoving his own boots on, tucking in his pant legs like he wants to show them off.

Snorting, it takes all of my strength not to start shooting questions his way. Don’t want to embarrass him until after he’s introduced me to whoever it is.

Five days a week, we do the same song and dance. While he’s playing with other kids and learning a thing or two, I’m being passed around by the farmers and ranchers of Forest Grove.

My day is a map I’ve traced over a thousand times. I start at the clinic, the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic filling my lungs as I check on my overnight patients—a dog lacking energy to wag its tail, a tabby cat recovering from surgery, her purring a soft rumble against my stethoscope.

Then it’s out to the calls. I move from farm to ranch, my hands a familiar tool for calving season, for vaccinations, for the quiet, worried moments in a stable stall.

There’s a rhythm to it all, a predictable cadence of hooves, heartbeats, and concerned nods as I try to reassure each owner that everything is fine.

I like it. I need it. The structure is a steady fencepost in my life, something to lean on.

Once the eight hours are up, we’re back at home, ready to do it all over again.

Eli’s a quiet kid for the most part, once his classes suck him dry, so he doesn’t have much to say when it comes to filling me in on whatever happened afterwards, but he’s happy to try to pass off all of his homework to me.

His reward for practicing his multiple tables and writing out a few paragraphs on his latest reading is a low rumble from the skies above.

The dread and exhaustion that once filled his eyes instantly morphs into something else entirely. Looking my way, he’s already moving to his feet.

“Can I, Dad? Please. ” His eyes flick over toward our front door, his body speaking more volumes than he needs to with words.

At only eight years old, I have to say, he’s growing too fast. In a couple more years, the little things won’t excite him anymore. Dreading the future, it’s best to enjoy the present.

We both get a kick out of rain. While I find the sound peaceful, he enjoys getting caked in mud. All I have to do is nod my head, and he’s gone, ready to throw on his rain boots and poncho.

Can’t deny him when he’s ready to start stomping around.

While Eli splashes around, I rock back and forth on the chair on the porch, happily staying dry where I’m at.

Outside of the distant rumbles, it’s peaceful. A nice calm before the rough patch comes in. The creaking of my chair is soothing, and I’m almost tempted to rest my eyes for a bit.

Thankfully, his giggles keep me awake, even more when he wants to show me how big his splashes are.

Only once lightning starts shooting along the blanket of dark clouds do I call it to come back inside.

By the time he’s bathed and changed into his pajamas, I really might doze off. Giving him complete control to watch whatever cartoon reruns he wants, I leave him with a hamburger and fries.

I rest my eyes for five minutes at most before there’s a knock at the door, almost as loud as the thunder rolling above us.

Lifting a brow at Eli, the best answer he can give me is a shrug of his shoulders.

Not much help there, kid. Then again, it’s not like either of us is expecting company.

Abandoning the couch, I try to figure out who could be on the other side. If I have to guess, one of my neighbors is worried that his stock is feverish because of the rain. Happens all the time.

Unfortunately, I’m unable to drag Eli out into the storm, and I’m not willing to leave him here by himself. So, the best I can do is give them someone else to call. I already have a list of numbers written out on my fridge just for the occasion.

Reaching the door, I prepare my apology beforehand. Pulling the door open, all coherent thoughts vanish the moment I see her.

It’s a woman, but the word feels utterly inadequate. She stands on my porch, drenched and shivering, and my heart gives a single, hard knock against my ribs—a feeling so foreign I almost don’t recognize it. It’s a drumbeat from a life I’d forgotten.

Long, rain-darkened hair frames her face in delicate tendrils, brushing against a pair of wide, sea-storm eyes that are currently blinking up at me, taking in my height.

She’s not alone. At her feet is a piece of luggage half the size of her body, a slim case that stops shy of her hip.

It’s caked in mud from being dragged, matching the state of her sneakers.

Those eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Then, she parts her plump, pink lips, and I feel that forgotten beat again, a dull, heavy rhythm starting up in my chest that drips toward my stomach, leaving it clenched.

“You don’t happen to be Mr. Julian Adams, are you?” She hugs herself, fighting off another shiver from wracking through her body. Her jacket is soaked through, clinging to her shoulders, and a fierce, inexplicable urge to pull her into the warmth of my house surges through me.

I hate, more than I’ve hated anything in a long time, to be the guy to disappoint her. Even more to not be the man she’s looking for.

“Can’t say I am.” I shift to rub the back of my neck, my gaze lifting over her head to the empty, rain-swept road. No car. No taillights fading into the gloom. Nothing.

Damn. She walked here. And now, for reasons I can’t explain, my heart seems to already understand that she can’t just walk away disappointed. Not if I have anything to do with it.

“I don’t think I know anyone with that last name around this part of town. You sure you know where you’re headed?” Gripping the doorframe, I have to cling to it when she lets out a humorless laugh.

“Honestly? No. I’m so lost, it’s not funny.” Her mouth curves, and I see the exhaustion dancing around in her eyes. “Your cabin is the third one I’ve tried.”

I’m struggling to believe two others hadn’t gotten a good look at the beauty and hadn’t tried playing the identity of whoever she’s searching for. For an instant, I wanted to. Thankfully, I’m a better man to do such a thing.

“I can offer you my phone if you want to try to call him, if that’s any help?” More so, it’ll give her the chance to linger on my property for a little longer before she disappears from my life. Quick enough to make me question if she was real to begin with.

Relief fills her eyes, and she nods. “That would be amazing.”

I shouldn’t let a stranger into my home, especially one who seems to have no explanation for why she’s here in Forest Grove, but the thought of making her stand outside when her teeth are a few seconds shy of chattering doesn’t sit right with me.

Her suitcase thunks against the doorframe as she drags it inside with her, clutching the handle tight enough to make me think she has more than just a few outfits inside. Seems more like her life’s worth is inside.

“Sorry about the mess.” Muttering the words, I look around like I have forgotten what I’m looking for. Phone. Not the toys scattered across the hardwood, or the rumpled blanket that had slid from the couch, hanging on just barely.

The woman lets out a breathy laugh, her eyes training on me more than our surroundings. “I’m the one creating a puddle in your home.”

Right. I should probably get her a towel first. That way, she doesn’t stay soaked. Maybe throw another log in the fire to make sure the house stays heated.

Shoving my fingers through my hair, I swallow down the start of a sigh. Can’t start overthinking everything. Can’t do everything at once. One thing at a time.

Disappearing long enough to grab a towel, I return to find her eyeing Eli with curiosity, and he does the very same as he slowly sinks his teeth back into his burger.

The way her mouth purses and her hand clutches at the front of her jacket, I’m willing to bet she’s hungry, too.

Who is this woman?

When she turns her attention back to me, her brows lift at the sight of the towel. When I offer it to her, there’s a hesitation before, slowly, her fingers graze against mine to accept my offering.

Thanking me, she releases her luggage and dries her hair.

Thunder rolls in the background, and Eli scrunches his little nose at her. “You really know when to travel, lady.”

“Eli.” Scolding him, I sigh. “It’s rude to call her that.”

He pops a fry into his mouth, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I don’t know her name.”

He’s got a point, and the light laugh that leaves her doesn’t help the heat that forms on the back of my neck.

“You can call me Piper.” Her smile softens as she nods. “I really do, don’t I?”

Trying to remember what I’m doing, I hunt down our phone. It’s a landline, the buttons worn from well use. Unfortunately, it’s on a cord, so I lift it to catch her attention.

To avoid leaving a trail, she sheds herself of her shoes and her jacket. Leaving behind small, wet footprints like she can’t help it, she drifts across the floor, and she practically floats before stopping just in front of me.

“Thanks, um…”

“Dusty.” Choking out my name like it’s a foreign word, I choke on more than my voice as her fingers brush mine to collect the phone.

Pausing as she stares at the number pad, she squints and slowly types in a number. There’s doubt, and she catches my eye.

“I dropped my phone in a puddle.” Her eyes fall, and she grimaces. “Talk about luck, huh? I’m hoping this is the right number…”

Am I a bad man for seeing her bad luck as a good fortune on my part? Damn, might as well call myself greedy.

Wanting to give her space and privacy, I try to find something to fiddle with.

Next to me, my son snorts. Now would be the perfect time to remind him how much time he puts in making sure he looks good whenever I drop him off.

It’s been years since I’ve felt anything for anyone. I’ve forgotten all about how this feels.

The sound of a soft sigh quickly pulls my attention right back toward Piper.

From the way her brows pinch together as she clutches the receiver, I can tell the call isn’t going well, if at all. When she types in the number again with the same result, something pushes me to approach her once more.

“This isn’t going my way at all.” Setting the phone down, I watch the way she forces a smile onto her lips. Even now, she’s like light slipping through a blanket of clouds. “Dusty, thank you. I guess I should move on. Eventually, I’ll have to find who I’m looking for.”

Thunder shakes the walls of the cabin, and I picture one gust of wind swooping this woman away. What if she gets hurt? What kind of man would that make me if I willingly let her step out while the weather is this bad?

“It’s terrible out there. Why not continue the hunt once the weather clears up? Tonight, you could…stay? I mean, Eli wouldn’t mind giving up his bed. Would you?”

I raised the kid to be giving, but not even he can hide the way his face scrunches up.

Expecting her to say no, because the idea is a crazy one, I’m caught off guard by the color that fills her cheeks as she stares up at me like I’ve grown a second head. Slowly, she nods.

“That would be amazing.” Hugging herself, I watch the way she tries to contain her light. “I’ll return the favor tenfold.”

I won’t ask her for a single thing. Instead, I’m a giving man. And right now? I want to lift a little bit of whatever weight she has against her shoulders.

Giving myself a few more seconds to appreciate the blush on her cheeks, I shift my eyes toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

A sweet sound of a relieved sigh leaves her lips. “ Starving. ”