Seeker's Curse. Alex Archer

      She found plenty of tender spots. The external abdominal obliques, especially, were too tight. His job... He probably didn’t stretch enough after a tough day. And warmth pooled in the small of his back...sometimes that meant there was a gait problem, though she hadn’t noticed one while he walked.

      The time vanished, as it often did. She always set a timer to buzz in her pocket as she needed to switch through the phases of the massage, because she knew she’d lose track of the hour if she didn’t. Today, though, she must have failed to do it. She worked on his back, then on the front, alternating long strokes and detail work on the pressure points.

      She was lost—she couldn’t have said how long—in exploring the pressure points on the face and scalp when a light rap sounded on the door.

      “So sorry, guys.” Chelsea’s throaty voice was soft as she cracked the door open. Tess recognized it instantly. Chelsea, the spa’s director, had put her through an extensive telephone interview before this working massage. No point bringing in Tess at all, unless she passed that initial phase.

      Jude rose onto his elbows, stretching his neck slowly. “Time’s up already?”

      “Yeah, sorry.” Chelsea waved two fingers at Tess. “I wouldn’t disturb you, except that we’ve got the Ardens out there, and they’re not the patient type.”

      “No, of course.” Tess was annoyed with herself for letting the session run long. She liked to end with a short head massage, which seemed to make the transition to real life smoother. She began wiping her hands on a clean towel. “We were just about finished, anyhow.”

      Chelsea nodded and ducked out. Jude sat up, keeping the sheet around his hips, and let out a long, satisfied sigh.

      “Nice,” he said with feeling. He tested his shoulders, stretching out his obliques. “Oh, yeah. Very nice. Maybe the best I’ve ever had.” He grinned. “And that’s saying something, because I get a lot of massages.”

      She smiled, but something in her eyes must have registered surprise, because he laughed. “I’m the official guinea pig around here. Ro always says she wants to check out new hires, but in reality she’s too busy. So...” He yawned and ran his hand through his hair, mussing it. Somehow the disheveled look suited him. “As I said, tough work, but someone has to do it.”

      “Thanks,” she said, glancing away. Did that mean there was a high turnover of therapists at the ranch? She couldn’t ask, of course. “I’m glad you feel relaxed.”

      She gathered her supplies and hurried toward the door. Behind her, she heard the soft whisper as the sheet fell to the floor.

      Out by the front counter, the serenity had been jangled a bit. Rowena had returned, and was helping Mrs. Fillmore set up her next appointment. If the woman’s massage had relaxed her, she didn’t show it. She leaned over Rowena’s appointment book, as if challenging something, and reiterated in a brittle voice that she would accept Ashley and only Ashley.

      In the waiting room, a long-limbed couple straight from the pages of Beautiful People Magazine were tapping manicured fingers against thousand-dollar boots and giving off restless vibes.

      In that moment, Tess could easily imagine why there was high turnover of therapists at Bell River Ranch. It had positioned itself at the high end, and the clients were the entitled type, demanding and finicky. In Tess’s experience, these well-heeled clients often could be iffy, looking for any excuse to avoid tipping. Difficult clients, high turnover, possibly disappointing income...

      That was three strikes....

      But it didn’t matter. As she returned the lotions to the elegant chrome shelves, and listened to Rowena wryly but deftly handling Mrs. Fillmore, Tess realized the truth. She wanted to be a part of Bell River, even if only temporarily. Even if her true relationship were never revealed.

      If she got the chance, nothing would prevent her from taking this job.

      CHAPTER TWO

      JUDE SWALLOWED HIS last delicious mouthful of Marianne Donovan’s prime rib, dropped a ketchup-bottle cap onto the café table with a flourish, then tilted his chair on its back legs, though Marianne, who owned the café, would kill him if she saw him.

      “And there you go—that’s nine in a row. You might as well go home, grandpa. It’s not your night.”

      Old Grayson Harper snorted, glaring at the tic-tac-toe grid they’d made out of straws and the ketchup caps from every bottle on the adjoining tables. He knew Jude had beaten him, but was, as usual, refusing to admit defeat gracefully.

      He lifted his piercing blue eyes and tried to impale Jude with them. “You’re cheating, you young skunk, and if I could prove it, I’d have you arrested.”

      Jude smiled, then yawned loudly. He hadn’t slept again last night and didn’t have the energy for the customary verbal sparring that Harper loved so much.

      “Yeah,” he said, scratching at his chin. He’d forgotten to shave this morning, though he’d showered twice, right before and right after the baby barfed on his shirt. “I’m cheating at tic-tac-toe. Hey, look. Dallas is sitting right over there. Tell him.”

      “I ought to.”

      “Sheriff!” He called loudly enough to be heard where Dallas and his deputy were sitting, though it elicited a scowl from Esther Fillmore, who sat with Alton, her mousy husband, in the corner booth. “I’m a tic-tac-toe desperado. I’d like to turn myself in.”

      “Shut up, Jude.” Dallas rolled his eyes. He’d known Jude too well and too long to pay any attention, so he went back to his own steak dinner. “No one cares.”

      Jude chuckled, and winked at Esther to annoy her. He brought his chair back onto all fours, finished his tea, then wiped his mouth one last time.

      “I’ve gotta head home,” he said with a sigh. It had started to snow, and he’d rather just lean his head against the café’s green wall and take a nap. “Half the time, Molly forgets to eat unless I stand over her.”

      Harper’s gaze softened. “She’s no better?”

      Jude shrugged and reached for his coat. He didn’t gossip much about his little sister’s depression, but everyone knew it was a problem. “Physically, yeah, I think she’s improving. But emotionally...”

      “Hey, don’t you even think about leaving before I fix up some chicken soup for Molly.” Marianne appeared at the edge of their table, her red curls piled up in a big, adorable mess on her head and topped with a sprig of holly and a couple of silver bells. With Christmas a couple of days away, the Kelly green of the restaurant needed only a few red ribbons to be fully decorated.

      “Besides,” Marianne said, grinning as she made her bells ring, “I want to hear about the new hire at the spa. I heard from Barton that the wheels are coming off over there. Word is Chelsea ran off to get married, and Devon’s leaving, and Ashley can’t take over as the director because she’s getting her master’s, so Ro might offer the position to the new gal, who thought she was just applying for a part-time job and is staying at the motel over at the west end. He said Ro said you said she’s good, and she’s going mostly on your word alone.” She rested her hip against the table. “So, come on. Tell me everything about her.”

      Jude held up his palms, trying not to laugh. He said Ro said you said...

      “Mari, there is clearly nothing about Silverdell or its inhabitants that anyone could tell you. I’m not actually one of the family out there, you know. I hadn’t even heard Chelsea was leaving.”

      “The heck you’re not family. Give me a break.” She waved her hand impatiently. “Forget about Chelsea. I want to know about the new one...Jess? That her name?”

      “Tess.”

      “Right, Tess. So? What’s she like? Is she pretty? Is she nice? Is she going to fit in?”