Caged Songbird Read online

  Caged Songbird

  The Morgan Brothers Book 3

  By Avery Gale

  © Copyright June 2016 by Avery Gale

  ISBN 978-1-944472-30-6

  All cover art and logo © Copyright 2016 by Avery Gale

  All rights reserved.

  The Morgan Brothers® and Avery Gale® are registered trademarks

  Cover Design by Jess Buffett

  Published by Avery Gale Books

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publishing company.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  The Feather

  Chasing a feather caught on a warm breeze

  Does the feather elude me or is it all about the race?

  Floating in random swirls always just out of my reach.

  Our movements are a dance of temptation.

  The devil’s minions chase me, and I chase the wayward wind.

  Waking in the arms of an earth angel stills my soul,

  Restores my faith, and seduces my shuddered heart.

  But running away brings the feather back to me,

  And the chase begins anew.

  Dedication

  With eternal love for my beloved granny who always told me

  finding a feather meant your guardian angel was near.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Feather

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Avery Gale

  Prologue

  Colt Morgan wasn’t particularly surprised to wake up to an empty bed, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. How the hell had the tiny bundle of energy, who’d rocked his world until just before dawn, managed to slip away without waking him? She’d been dead to the world before he’d even made it back to bed after their last round of sexual gymnastics. Her scent still floated in the air, and unbelievably his cock twitched as if looking for the most interesting woman he’d ever encountered.

  Josephine Alta was one of the hottest pop stars in the music business. Her current concert tour was shattering previous attendance records at every stop and gaining momentum. He’d been damned impressed she’d flown in at the last minute to surprise his brother’s new bride. She hadn’t made it in time to participate in the wedding, but she’d hit the stage almost immediately and put on one hell of an impromptu concert during the reception and dance. Sage and Coral’s guests would be raving about their wedding for years.

  Patsy Morgan had taken her role of mother of the groom and hostess to heart, planning the day’s events down to the minutia most people would never consider. Sage hadn’t given her a large window of time so she’d been in steamroller mode for weeks. Colt and practically everyone else within a fifty-mile radius had been avoiding her at every opportunity. Seeing his new sister-in-law’s joy made all the hard work worthwhile—there had been weeks of planning and several days of back-breaking labor. Mama Morgan could be a force of nature when she was in party planner mode, and they’d all learned nothing brought out the hidden whip-cracking Domme in her like planning her son’s wedding festivities.

  Sage’s assignment had been to keep his intended in their suite while everything was being set-up—lucky bastard. Colt was thrilled to help his older brother introduce Coral to the joys of ménage several weeks ago. She’d quickly set her intimidation aside, and they’d all enjoyed the scene, but Colt didn’t have any illusions about it being repeated. The eldest Morgan brother had claimed Coral Williams the minute he’d met her, and he was turning out to be damned possessive. After the intense connection he’d felt with Josie last night, he now understood his brother’s compulsion to make Coral his.

  Colt loved women, they loved him, and they’d never been in short supply during his years on the rodeo circuit. He’d never chased a woman—hell, he’d never had to. The truth was, he’d never come across one he wanted badly enough to pursue—until now. But the damned sprite, who’d burned down the night with him, had slipped out sometime between dawn and seven a.m. Rolling onto his back, Colt laced his fingers behind his head and stared broodingly at the ceiling, lost in thought. Now wasn’t the time to chase her, even though he knew she couldn’t have gotten far. This was going to require planning. Totally out of my element here.

  He’d never much cared for celebrities, and he’d met more than his share over the years. Colt had always felt, by and large they were far more trouble than they were worth. Josephine Alta had trouble written all over her. The real question? Would she be worth it? Don’t kid yourself—you already know the answer. Maybe the question I should be asking is whether or not she’ll be interested.

  Rolling out of bed, Colt chuckled out loud. “Who am I kidding? What’s not to love? I’m damned near perfect.” Shaking his head at his own nonsense, Colt headed to the shower. Without his sweet songbird warm and willing in his bed, there wasn’t any reason to burn anymore daylight.

  Josie stared at the road ahead, her mind replaying the night before. Her thoughts skimmed right over the fact she’d come to Pine Creek to surprise her friend, Coral. Every memory of the wedding reception was eclipsed by the hot cowboy she’d done the mattress mambo with until the first pink rays of sunlight pierced the early morning darkness. Her inner vamp was a happy camper, lounging back on a settee fanning herself with a shit eating grin on her face.

  She and Coral had always laughed when they’d compared their inner voices. Coral’s was usually the voice of reason she swore she could actually hear. But, but Josie’s looked like a cartoon character who reminded her of Olive Oyl with bling. And she’d come complete with a very well developed sense of sarcasm in the form of a brash personality. Coral teased her about over-active imagination, but Josie had secretly wondered why her friend’s voice was just a voice. I swear she doesn’t have creative bone one.

  Coral had been business minded for as long as Josie had known her. When they’d first met Josie hadn’t understood how someone so young could be so serious. But, after meeting Coral’s parents, the question had answered itself. Sighing, Josie couldn’t believe the only real friend she’d ever had was now married to a man even more business minded. Damn, the two of them were definitely going to be a formidable team.

  There was a big part of Josie that envied Coral and what she’d had found in Pine Creek. How great would it be to have that kind of stability? To be able to trust the man in your life implicitly, knowing he’d always have your back—even when he didn’t agree with a decision you’d made, would be a dream com
e true. And you just snuck out on a man who could have given you all of that and more. Not so bright, are you?

  Shaking off her introspection, Josie tried to refocus her thoughts on the second half of her tour. So far every city she’d played had sold out in minutes and the second half of her tour was shaping up to be even bigger. But, fame came at a price, and she was paying it in spades. The pressure to always do a little more, to write hit after hit, and to not only out perform all your competitors, but yourself as well, was taking a toll. The temptation to stay in Pine Creek had been almost overwhelming, and it had been exactly why she’d forced herself to go. It had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed to slide silently out of Colt Morgan’s bed and make her way out the door.

  Their night together would forever be branded in her heart, the scorching hot sex, the look of rapture on his face as he came, and the depth of emotion in his soft green eyes when he pushed his rigid length into her. The slow burn reached the depths of her soul and threatened to steal her sanity.

  Making love with Colt Morgan was the sort of life-altering experience poets wrote sonnets about, and songwriters penned ballads to immortalize. Pulling to the side of the road, Josie dug into her purse frantically searching for a pen and paper. Scribbling down everything floating through her mind before the wisps became a memory she couldn’t quite grasp.

  Chapter One

  Colt Morgan sped down the road leading into Pine Creek wondering why he hadn’t had the good sense to turn his damned phone off before crawling into bed a couple of hours ago. There were only three things keeping him awake. His frustration at being called out for what he feared was a wild goose chase, the twisting mountain road, and the haunting voice of Josephine Alta surrounding him as it spilled from the truck’s speakers.

  The first time he’d heard her new song Colt knew it had been written after their night together. The melody was subtle, letting the lyrics carry the listener straight into the emotion. The regret of not being brave enough to stay and then being blown in the wind by circumstances beyond your control always sounded like an apology, and this morning the soulful words made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  Pulling into the alley behind O’Donnell Hardware, Colt parked his large truck beneath the carport at the back of the century-old stone structure. He hadn’t seen any lights in the small apartment, but somebody evidently had, or he wouldn’t have been called out at this ungodly hour. He loved his hometown, but there were times having everyone up in your business was enough to make him want to pull his hair out.

  His new sister-in-law, Coral, had lived in a small, outdated apartment above the store before marrying Colt’s oldest brother, Sage. The one-bedroom unit was currently unoccupied, so there was no reason for lights to be on inside. Of course, they hadn’t been available for this early morning snipe hunt because his damned brother had taken Coral on a cruise to celebrate their four and a quarter month anniversary, or some equally ridiculous excuse.

  Sage bought the store when Charlotte O’Donnell decided traveling sounded more appealing than another Montana winter—wise woman. Charlotte had given Coral a job when she’d first moved to town, the business and its former owner held a special place in all their hearts.

  Coral was devoted to the store, spending long hours working hard and making a lot of improvements. Amazingly, she’d done it all while keeping the charm of a building and business that had served the people of their sleepy mountain town for more than three generations.

  He might be exhausted, but Colt was also relieved the last of this season’s hay crop had been cut, baled, and safely stored in several locations around the ranch well ahead of the coming winter. Other ranches routinely did another cutting later in the season, but the Morgan Ranch left the later growth in place knowing it would catch more snow providing moisture for next year’s crop. It was always a huge relief when this particular task was completed because they depended on the hay to feed livestock all winter. He’d fallen into bed relieved he’d finally be able to get a full eight hours of sleep. After he’d slept, he’d really needed to catch up with the outside world. He hadn’t seen a television for more than a week—hell, World War III could have broken out for all he knew. Fuck! I should have shut my damned phone off.

  Moving the large clay pot at the base of the stairs, Colt grabbed the spare key he knew was hidden underneath before he started up the stairs. He swore under his breath when one of the steps moved precariously under his foot and vowed to stop by later and secure the loose step. He didn’t want to take a chance Coral might slip and fall. Even though no one was currently living in the small apartment, she’d recruited all five Morgan brothers to help with the repairs and improvements. She hoped to have the one-bedroom unit ready to rent soon, and Colt knew she made the trip up and down the outdoor staircase several times each day.

  Sage was interviewing managers for the store, even though his pregnant wife didn’t know what her husband was planning. He’d tried to warn his brother that excluding his new bride from such an important decision was a whole new level of stupid, but Sage had never been big on taking advice from his younger brothers. Laughing to himself, Colt was looking forward to the fireworks. Big brother was fixin’ to be taken down a peg or two by his sweet wife, and his younger brothers were all looking forward to the show.

  When the door opened without the key Colt cursed under his breath. Kip had been the last one working up there, and Colt wondered where his youngest brother’s head had been that he’d failed to secure the door. Fuck it, they were all wondering if the youngest among them was ever going to grow up and become a responsible adult.

  Slipping inside, Colt stifled a colorful curse when he saw the door of the refrigerator was open. From the muffled ramblings and sound of the contents being moved around, it was obvious someone was desperately looking for something to eat. What the hell? What kind of burglar takes the time to make himself a snack? Stepping closer, he was about to yank the door further open to confront the refrigerator bandit when an unmistakable feminine voice made him freeze. Without moving so much as a muscle, he listened as she chattered softly to someone she thought had stolen her orange juice.

  Leaning over, he spotted familiar light blonde hair and had to hold back his chuckle at the brilliant streak of neon blue falling along the right side of her angelic face. Coral’s friend Josie—known to the rest of the world as pop singing sensation Josephine Alta—was frantically looking for an elusive bottle of juice. Why the hell was a woman who made millions each year holed up in an unfinished apartment in Pine Creek, Montana?

  She’d shown up for Sage and Coral’s wedding—rocked his world—then vanished as quickly as she’d appeared. He’d followed her on social media as she’d done shows all over the country. Her tour had been so wildly successful they’d added dates in every city, and he’d wondered how on Earth she’d kept up. Stepping silently behind her to lean against the counter, Colt simply waited for her to find the bottle of orange juice she was frantically looking for.

  “Hey, refrigerator fairy, where did you hide the damned orange juice? I know I left one of those little bottles in here. Don’t tell me you shared with your sprite buddies who ate all the strawberries, because that’s just gonna suck. Damn it, nobody asked me if they could drink the last bottle. Coral warned me this place was under construction, but she didn’t say anything about it being overrun with juice and fruit steeling wee folk.” Josie leaned her forehead against the fridge and groaned. That’s it. I’ve officially lost my mind. I should have known I’d tip over the edge if I didn’t learn to say no. Damn it, where is that freaking juice?

  “Come on, come on. I know it’s in here. It has to be here. I can’t go to the damned store…somebody will recognize me and splash my damned picture all over the internet, then he’ll find me again. Coral will be home in a few days and then she can help me figure out what to do. Fucking hell, I need that juice. If I don’t have it, I won’t be able to sleep. And, I really need to sleep
.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the decade.

  Damn, she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. The notes left in her dressing rooms around the country had been simply annoying at first, but they’d soon become frightening enough to keep her awake at night. But returning to her home in LA and finding it gutted had been positively terrifying. Who steals everything and then tears out entire walls, for heaven’s sake?

  Sagging in defeat, Josie was quickly losing the battle to hold back the hot tears of frustration burning the back of her eyes like red hot pokers. Everything had spiraled out of control during the last few weeks. Her final shows seemed more like a slow slide into some b-rated horror movie than the end of a hugely successful music tour.

  The stress had grown so intense, hadn’t been able to eat or sleep. She’d lost so much weight her wardrobe assistant had been forced to rework every one of her stage outfits. Yeah, she was not a happy camper about it either. Josie had known she needed to eat to keep up her strength, but she’d been too unsettled to eat. And now that she was finally thirsty, she’d been robbed by some fucking invisible orange juice bandit. Damn, I really wanted that juice.

  She was exhausted, hungry and scared. None of those things were good, and the combination was overwhelming. Josie felt the last strings holding her control snap and she finally surrendered to the emotional avalanche she’d barely managed to hold back for weeks.

  Standing up, she leaned her forehead against the closed door of the refrigerator. Hot tears flowing over her cheeks as she tried in vain to regain her composure. “God damn it all to hell. All I wanted was some sleep and a bottle of fucking orange juice. Was that too much to ask?” Her voice caught on a sob of frustration, that quickly morphed into a scream when she heard the distinctive scape of a shoe across the floor behind her.