Benji considered it for a moment. Fleecing the others in a game of poker might turn his mood around, even momentarily, and he needed the distraction. Still, the idea of sitting there, fighting for a good mood, didn’t hold any appeal. ‘I’ll pass tonight. Gonna hit the hay.’
With one half-hearted wave, he walked through the bunkhouse to his room and locked the door behind him.
Alone again, Benji opened his sock drawer. He lifted out the tiny urn, cradled it in one hand.
He knew it was morbid, but he hadn’t had the heart to scatter Her ashes without Sierra. What if she eventually surfaced from her grief and regretted that she hadn’t been there, hadn’t had a say in where on Hunt Ranch their baby’s remains should be set free?
If there was a part of him that knew he wasn’t ready either, he didn’t judge himself for it. He had lost everything: his daughter, his woman, his family, his home.
So, the tiny urn wasn’t just filled with his child’s remains. It contained every secret, every heartache that Benji didn’t have anyone else to tell.
One day, he would open the urn and let it all go. But for tonight, he just whispered, ‘I caught your mom smiling today. And for a few seconds it was just like it used to be.’
Chapter 5
When Sierra walked through to the kitchen at five o’clock the next morning, dressed in a long, black pencil skirt and a blazer with a blood-red turtleneck jersey beneath, Markus wolf-whistled.
He was sitting alone at the kitchen counter in his pyjamas, his laptop open in front of him. A throw blanket was draped over his broad shoulders like a Viking’s bearskin.
‘Why are you up so early?’ Sierra asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you awake before nine.’
‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He yawned and raised one hand to rub his tired eyes.
Sierra paused to look over his shoulder at his laptop. ‘Lovely.’ The photo he was editing was a black-and-white studio shot of a blonde woman in a slim column of black silk. The dress was sleeveless with a front slit to the model’s navel. ‘Sexy. And look at her face.’ Sierra leaned forward and tapped the screen. ‘Doesn’t she know it.’
‘Oh, yeah. She photographs like a dream.’ Markus picked up his coffee, sent her a wicked grin over the rim of the mug. ‘Nightmare to work with though.’
‘Who was the shoot for?’ she asked as she moved to the coffee pot and poured her first cup.
‘Axiom – the dress brand. We wrapped up the shoot a few days ago, but I have two weeks to edit before I have to submit the portfolio, which,’ he said between sips, ‘works out for me being remote for a while. That’s also something I was hoping to talk to you about.’
‘Me?’ Sierra took a seat opposite him. She raised the cup to her lips, took that first caffeine hit to her system with a sigh of pleasure.
When she lowered the mug again, Markus asked, ‘Thatgood?’
‘There’s only one thing in life that is better than the first sip of coffee in the morning.’
‘What’s that?’
‘An orgasm first thing in the morning.’
Markus laughed outright.
Once he had settled, Sierra prompted, ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
‘Would you mind if I stayed for a bit? Through the wedding and maybe the holidays?’ He ran one hand over the side of his head, following the pattern of his precise fade. ‘The Axiom shoot was my last scheduled shoot for the year, and now with Nina’s wedding and everything with Juan, I don’t think I’m going to book another until after the holidays. Our lease is up in December, and Juan and I figure we should each find a new place …’ He trailed off when his voice grew hoarse. ‘I just don’t know where to start, and—’
‘Markus,’ Sierra cut him off, ‘you’re family. You might have come as Nina’s plus one, but you’re ours now too. Stay as long as you want. You’re welcome to one of the guest rooms, but if we get to be too much, I’ll set aside one of the cabins for you.’
‘Thanks.’ He tried to smile, but Sierra saw how much it cost him. ‘I just need some time away, you know. All our friends are calling, wanting to know what’s going on. All his family are texting me.’
‘And Juan?’
Markus shrugged. ‘He’s tried to call a few times, but I just don’t have the energy to fight anymore. I’ve been sending him to voicemail, and then not listening to the messages. I can’t …’
‘Give yourself time.’
He stared down at his mug for a long time. ‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’
