Zane (7 Brides for 7 Soldiers Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  ZANE

  Also Available

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Book Blurb - WYATT –7 Brides for 7 Soldiers #4

  EXCERPT – ZANE – 7 Brides for 7 Soldiers #3

  Excerpt – TAKE ME TENDER

  Christie Ridgway’s Book List

  About the Author

  ZANE

  7 Brides for 7 Brothers, #3

  Also Available

  7 Brides for 7 Soldiers - Multi-Author Series

  Ryder - Barbara Freethy (#1)

  Adam - Roxanne St. Claire (#2)

  Zane - Christie Ridgway (#3)

  Wyatt - Lynn Raye Harris (#4)

  Jack - Julia London (#5)

  Noah - Cristin Harber (#6)

  Ford - Samantha Chase (#7)

  Almost Wonderful (Almost Book 1)

  Almost Always (Almost Book 2)

  Almost Everything (Almost Book 3), coming soon!

  Almost Paradise (Almost Book 4), coming soon!

  Take Me Tender (Billionaire’s Beach Book 1)

  Take Me Forever (Billionaire’s Beach Book 2)

  Take Me Home (Billionaire’s Beach Book 3)

  The Scandal (Billionaire’s Beach Book 4)

  The Seduction (Billionaire’s Beach Book 5)

  The Secret (Billionaire’s Beach Book 6)

  One Look (One & Only Book 1)

  One Kiss (One & Only Book 2)

  One Night (One & Only Book 3)

  One Love (One & Only Book 4)

  Light My Fire (Rock Royalty Book 1)

  Love Her Madly (Rock Royalty Book 2)

  Break on Through (Rock Royalty Book 3)

  Touch Me (Rock Royalty Book 4)

  Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5)

  Wild Child (Rock Royalty Book 6)

  Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7)

  Love Me Two Times (Rock Royalty Book 8)

  Make Him Wild (Intoxicating Book 1)

  Make Him Want (Intoxicating Book 2)

  Make Him Stay (Intoxicating Book 3)

  Fall in love with seven sexy and irresistible soldiers who find their courage and heart tested like never before in the battle for love! This multi-author collaborative series of contemporary romance novels is brought to you by bestselling authors Barbara Freethy, Roxanne St. Claire, Christie Ridgway, Lynn Raye Harris, Julia London, Cristin Harber and Samantha Chase. You won't want to miss a single one!

  ZANE

  Ex-soldier Zane Tucker is perfectly happy with his single life and his adventure watersports business. A gambler by nature, he figures the odds of finding a woman for forever are a lot longer than finding a woman for right now. And as a man of action and not emotion, he believes a woman with lasting romance on the mind would want someone with less hard muscle and more soft sentiment. But then his dog hurtles toward the new county librarian, yanking Zane into her delicate, pretty presence. Will they both scare her away? And why does that worry him so?

  Harper Grace has a bucket list of goals to tick off and is determined to live every moment to the fullest by overcoming her usual shyness. No one will call her too timid and too boring ever again. But then a giant of a man and his equally large dog charge into her life and she can’t decide if she wants to take a step back...or step fully into Zane’s strong arms. She's been brave enough to change her life, but does she have enough courage to risk her heart?

  Don't miss any of the sexy soldiers!

  Ryder (#1) - Barbara Freethy

  Adam (#2) - Roxanne St. Claire

  Zane (#3) - Christie Ridgway

  Wyatt (#4) - Lynn Raye Harris

  Jack (#5) - Julia London

  Noah (#6) - Cristin Harber

  Ford (#7) - Samantha Chase

  ZANE – 7 Brides for 7 Soldiers

  © Copyright 2017 Christie Ridgway

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  ISBN: 9781939286321

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Visit Christie’s website

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  Chapter 1

  The sound of his name jerked Zane Tucker from his contemplation of the view of the Snake River outside the diner windows. His foot kicked out, catching the legs of the empty chair across from him and sending it crashing to the floor. “Hell,” he muttered, clambering to his size fourteen feet to right the thing, even as he glared at the intruder into his little private reverie.

  “What do you want?” he demanded of the buzz-haired guy.

  “Touchy, touchy,” the other man said.

  He looked familiar to Zane, but just about everyone looked familiar in his small hometown of Eagle’s Ridge, Washington, situated near the Blue Mountains. With only ten thousand total residents and a single high school, the thirtyish man standing beside his table, wearing an annoying smirk, had to be someone with whom he’d grown up.

  Oh, yeah, he thought, a name popping from his memory. Smerkman. Andy Smerkman.

  “What’s up, Andy?” Zane said, dropping back into his seat. He tried to sound pleasant. He was a friendly, easygoing sort of man. Everybody said so, and it was a prerequisite in dealing with the clients of the adventure watersports business he ran with his twin brother. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “On a visit to the olds,” the guy said. “You know, my parents. Stopped in here at No Man’s Land for a coffee before heading back to Seattle.”

  Andy Smerkman, he of the visit to the “olds”—who the hell said that?—was clearly angling for an invitation to join Zane at his table.

  If memory served, Andy had always been a lousy fisherman.

  “Have a good one,” Zane said, picking up his own mug of brew and hoping Smerkman would catch the hint and go away.

  Instead he scraped out the chair on the other side of the rectangular wooden table and slid into it. “I heard your brother found himself a lady and it looks permanent.”

  Zane grunted. Still a surprise, but it was true. The only thing Adam had ever taken seriously was work—first as a rescue swimmer with the Coast Guard, and then later with refurbishing their old boathouse as a youth adventure camp for at-risk kids. But when his Jane had showed up at A To Z Watersports, Adam’s legendary focus had widened.

  “I heard your sister lassoed the town golden boy, Ryder Westbrook.”

  Bristling, Zane sent out another glare. Like all big brothers, he felt protective of his little sister, Bailey. “He was lucky to catch her eye.” And Bailey seemed so happy that even though the Tuckers had been feuding with the Westbrooks for years upon years, Zane could only be pleased for her. She’d been put through the wringer by some NYC asshole, but she’d come home and found the best man for her.

  “And I’ve also heard that you’ve been moping around town ever since your sister and your brother found true love.”

  What? Outrage filled Zane’s chest, hardening his muscles to cement. “Moping?” he growled out.

  “Uh-huh,” Smerkman said, looking up as Brenda Morgan, who ran the diner alo
ngside Zane’s dad, bustled near with a steaming carafe of coffee. She filled the waiting empty mug then topped off Zane’s.

  Smerkman smirked again. “Word is you’re walking around looking all lonesome since you’re now the babe-less Tucker twin. The only Tucker sibling without a soulmate.”

  Don’t punch the guy, Zane commanded himself, even as his fingers curled into fists. He was a friendly, cheerful, easy-going sort. Everybody said so. But everybody now was saying he was looking lonesome? And worse, perhaps pitying him?

  Brenda slanted Zane a sympathetic look. Damn it! Did she feel sorry for his babe-less self too or was it mere sympathy for having to share space with the dim-witted Smerkman?

  The bells on the diner door caught Zane’s attention. A pair of men entered, and he lurched to his feet, setting the mugs on the table rattling. Patrons looked over in some alarm, but he was accustomed to that. Zane was a big man at six-four, two-twenty, and he tended to boom and clatter his way through life.

  Though he didn’t try to frighten little kids or overwhelm fragile women, it just happened that way. He was athletic on and in the water—a true riverman to his marrow—and actually adept on mountain trails too.

  It was only being indoors that gave him trouble. Probably because of the early years of inactivity that severe childhood asthma had forced upon him. Now grown and grown out of the condition, walls and roofs could no longer contain him comfortably.

  “Where are you going?” Smerkman said, as Zane headed toward the newcomers taking stools at the counter.

  Away from your recap of local gossip. Any more comments on the alleged state of his psyche and he’d be in danger of taking a swing at that annoying face and its irksome smirk. “Gotta see a guy about a bet.”

  His rugged rubber soles sounded loud on the scarred wooden floor as he paced toward the newcomers. They swiveled around as he came to a stop behind them. “Wyatt,” he said, nodding at the man on the left. Then he fished for his phone and brought up a photo. He brandished it in the face of the guy on the right. “Look here, Denver.”

  Denver—his name was actually Mike, but he went by the place he’d hailed from, before he came to the Eagle’s Ridge area to work at a dude ranch—groaned, loud and long. He was around twenty-two, a decade younger than Zane. “You didn’t really do it, did you?”

  “Proof is in the picture, buddy.” He turned the phone so Wyatt Chandler could have a look too. “Dressed up that statue of town founder John Westbrook at one end of Sentinel Bridge. In broad daylight, as stipulated, and I didn’t get caught, also as stipulated.” Zane didn’t add that he’d released the leash on his dog who then provided a helpful distraction by galloping through the nearby park, chasing squirrels, knocking over trash cans, and wreaking other general but benign mayhem.

  Wyatt shook his head. “Nothing stops Insane Zane.”

  A nickname he’d been given all those years ago during a semester of high school detention, in honor of the crazy bets he was in the habit of making. “Don’t you think the statue looks good in that spangly Wonder Woman outfit? I thought the headband was a nice touch. Who knew you could find a male size XXL costume? But the Internet has everything.”

  Looking as if he was fighting a smile, Wyatt shook his head again. “I thought the quarrel between the Tuckers and the Westbrooks had simmered down now. Aren’t you afraid something like that will start it up again if people find out the statue-defiling perp was you?”

  “Nah. Not a chance. Not with Ryder and Bailey our own happy-ever-after Romeo and Juliet.”

  “About that…” Wyatt hesitated. “You doing okay?”

  Zane narrowed his eyes. “I’m doing great.”

  Smerkman, who now stood at Zane’s elbow, had the balls to put in his two cents. “Moping,” he declared. “Heard it from my mom who heard it from my aunt—”

  “Take off the boots,” Zane said over him in a steely voice, his gaze on the fancy cowboy pair on Denver’s feet. Anything to deflect the conversation and his renewed desire to punch a wall—or at least Smerkman’s nose.

  Maybe he’d been a bit out-of-step lately, especially since Adam had coupled up with Jane. It was…odd, a life change, to have both siblings now pledged to romantic partners. Perhaps he’d experienced a little loneliness in recent days too, but by God, he wasn’t moping in a way that anyone should be noticing.

  He had more pride than that.

  “Zane.” Denver glanced down at his fancy footwear. “I really can’t see why you’d want them. You’re more of the hiking boots type.”

  “You’d not be entirely right,” Wyatt told the other man. “You’re talking to a former Army Cavalry Scout.”

  Denver’s eyes went wide. Yeah, it had been a surprise to Zane’s family too. Not that he’d opted for military service, that was a familiar route for the young people of Eagle’s Ridge which had been founded by veterans of World War II. But despite all his ease on the water, he didn’t go Coast Guard like his twin or aim to become a SEAL like Wyatt.

  “I was a kid,” he said, shrugging. One who had watched hundreds of hours of old Westerns when he’d been cooped up inside the house until he was fourteen. “There’s spurs. And a Stetson. Look it up.”

  Denver blinked. “You rode a horse?”

  “No. Recon specialist. Until I tore up my shoulder and came home after ten years in. But enough stalling.” He sent a pointed look at the boots. “Hope your socks don’t have holes in them.”

  The kid from Colorado took his time taking off the tooled leather, but Zane remained unmoved. “That should teach you not to make bets when you’ve had a beer too many.”

  “That should teach you to never make a bet with Zane,” Wyatt said.

  Zane turned to his old friend, another of the West Side kids who’d grown up on the “wrong” side of the river, just like him. Wyatt had spent years as a SEAL but then arrived in town a couple of weeks ago, fresh out of the Navy. “How are you settling in to civilian life?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “Okay.”

  Which said nothing at all. “Have you considered your next move?”

  “A job, you mean?” Wyatt shrugged again. “Something will come up.”

  Zane eyed the other man’s fit form and the bouncing knee that proclaimed he was used to doing and not dithering. He could relate. “Maybe we could find you something on the water—”

  “I’m not up for that,” Wyatt said quickly, then cleared his throat. “I’ve had some other offers. Right now I’m just spending time with Gran. She’s getting on, you know.”

  His grandmother had raised him after his parents died. But Wyatt talked about the older woman as if she was a doddering elderly, not the vital senior citizen that Zane knew to be active in her church’s social club and other endeavors around town. As Denver handed him the boots, Zane took them in hand while studying Wyatt’s closed expression.

  Something was up.

  “I don’t know that your granny requires a round-the-clock caretaker,” he said. “She’s getting about just fine, I’ve seen her myself.”

  “She needs me,” Wyatt said stubbornly.

  “Maybe some of the time,” Zane conceded, glancing again at the man’s bouncing knee and then at his steely jaw. This guy needed to lighten up. “But you have some free hours for a gig as a rodeo clown, don’t you? I have a contact. The job promises plenty of action, danger, and the weird face paint too. As a matter of fact, I bet—”

  “I’m good, Zane,” Wyatt said sharply, too sharply, without even a hint of a smile. Then he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that. Coming back home…it’s made me a little edgy, I guess.”

  “I’m glad I got out of this town,” Smerkman declared. “Because it’s made Wyatt edgy and Zane’s moping—”

  “I’m not moping!” Hell, that didn’t sound pleasant or friendly or the least bit calm. Zane could feel every customer in the diner staring at him, and guessed if he looked that their gazes would be filled with pity. The need to knock something down rose inside
him and he sucked in a breath to push it back. “You know what? I gotta go.”

  Fully aware of the stares from every corner of the room, he made his way to the rear of the restaurant. Was this how it was going to be? Slowly smothered in sympathy by those around him because he was the un-partnered Tucker?

  Since when had he shown any inclination to secure a missus anyway?

  Never.

  A long time ago he’d come to the realization that a woman looking for a long-term man would want one with less hard muscle and more softness inside. Less raw power and more gentle romance. That was not him.

  He bypassed the kitchen where Brenda and his dad were taking a quick breather between the breakfast and lunch rush. His dog, Gambler, waited in the storeroom, where a full water dish and a cushioned bed were always available for his visits.

  The yellow Lab jumped to his feet when Zane opened the door, rushing to greet him as if they’d been parted for months instead of less than an hour. Going down on one knee, he set aside the cowboy boots and rubbed his hands over the dog’s warm and wiggling body. Gambler’s sweeping tail knocked a plastic-wrapped stack of paper napkins off a shelf and when Zane reached over to retrieve it, his own elbow tumbled a second stack.

  Chuckling, he put both back into place, then clipped the dog’s leash onto his collar. “We’ll always have each other, won’t we, boy? Birds of a feather.”

  As he led the dog toward the rear door, Brenda wandered out of the kitchen. “Leaving already? You didn’t have more than coffee.”

  “I’m good, thanks, Bren.” The concerned kindness on her face and in her green eyes made him hunch his shoulders. After their mother took off for the bright lights of Hollywood, she’d been a warm presence for all the Tucker siblings, but right now he thought she might be about to offer him some of that unwelcome concern for his babe-less—as Smerkman had put it—state.

  Tugging on Gambler’s leash, he edged closer to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

  “You know,” she said, “it’s okay if you feel a bit out of sorts. Anyone would feel a little lost with this new shift in the family dynamics.”