Chapter 1

The ping on his laptop actually woke Sterling Jordan up from the first sound sleep he'd had since calving season had started. Shit, the way everyone kept texting and calling and pissing and moaning, he would think he didn't have a foreman on this damn ranch.

He had two.

But that particular chime was enough to make him jump right out of bed and go see, because it was a very special kind of alert.

That noise meant it was about his sister, Sierra.

He pulled on his robe because it was chilly as all get-out, and he moved to the desk he kept in his room, where he kept his personal files and crap he didn't want his assistant filing somewhere he'd never find it again. Where he put all the stuff the private detective who kept him apprised of Sierra's life went to die.

"What are you up to now, sis?" he murmured. It was nuts how he still talked to her like she was sitting right there, even though he hadn't seen her in person since she'd run away from home more than a decade ago.

Sterling missed her face.

There was an email from Annie, simple and straightforward just like her. Call me.

He grabbed the phone, hitting the number he had in his favorites.

Christ, she wasn't any more talkative now than she'd ever been.

"Hey, Sterling."

"Hey, lady. What have you got for me?"

"So, I have some news. Your sister has been through an adoption process and has moved to Alaska. She's working with the Forest Service there."

He blinked. "‘Adoption'? What the hell does that mean?"

"She gave a newborn male infant up for adoption in La Plata county. The paperwork is about three months old, and?—"

"La Plata? Here? She was here?"

"I said the adoption took place there, Sterling."

"So this is still her legal state of residence?" Shit, what he didn't know about his own sister could fill the Grand Canyon.

"Yep. She's never had a job that required her to change it."

"How did she have a baby without you knowing?"

"She didn't have to use her real name to have the baby, Sterling, just to give it away." The idiot was implied.

"I thought you had eyes on her."

"No, only on her social. She disappears as easily as a raccoon in a trash can."

He snorted at that. "I hear you. So tell me about the kid."

"It's a little boy, born November twenty-sixth. The adoptive father named him Xavier Scott Collier."

"‘Adoptive'? Do we know who the father is?" He wanted all the information, but he was a linear kind of guy.

"Benjamin Collier. Thirty-one years old. Blond, blue eyes. No criminal record. Army veteran. RN in Durango. Owns ten acres and a three-bedroom, two-bath ranch-style home, paid-off GMC pickup. No significant credit card debt. Decent credit score."

"But he's not the biological father?" This was getting weirder by the minute.

"No, the biological father and mother both surrendered their parental rights."

"Damn." What the hell had she been thinking? It wasn't like he wouldn't have taken her baby to raise. That baby boy would want for nothing with him. But she'd turned the little guy over to someone he'd never even heard of?

"Where does she know this guy from?" Army vet? Maybe they'd met in the service, since that was where Sierra had run off to when she was eighteen.

"I'm not sure. She had the baby in the Mercy Hospital in Durango, but there's no proof she ever lived there. The biological father's home of record is Seattle, Washington."

"Damn. Okay." He chewed his lower lip. "I'll need the adoptive father's address."

"Of course. I'll text it over. Do you want me to keep watching Sierra or switch to watching Mr. Collier?"

"Keep an eye on Sierra if you can. I'll check out Collier since he's only a few hours down the road." And maybe have a talk with the man about how that baby had family in Aspen who wanted him.

"Fair enough. I love Alaska. I'll send you anything I get. Have a good one. If you need me to find local help there, text."

"I will." He would go in on the quiet, though. Well, as quiet as he could. He pondered driving, since it was only about six hours, but he had a plane at the field here in Aspen, and Durango had a nice tiny airport. His pilot, Jimmy, could arrange things far quicker than he could drive, and the flight would take less than an hour.

He sat there for a long minute, then he went to find someone to make him a cup of coffee. He needed to talk to his assistant, Geoff, have him arrange the flights, and have him keep the lawyers and Dad off his ass.

Thank God Mom was in Rome with her new husband, living the high life and sending pictures of pasta and old churches every day.

Dad was closer, in Jackson Hole, so he'd have to play this close to the chest. Not everyone could be bought, so he needed to suss the guy out first.

If Collier couldn't be bought, then he'd have to hire someone to make the man's life a bitch. That baby was a Jordan, no matter what Sierra thought. He was a Jordan, and he deserved that name, and the benefits that having it brought.

He knew that probably made him as bad as Sierra had always accused their parents of being, but so be it. He'd worked hard to make it so no one in his family lacked for anything, and he wasn't going to let Sierra's son want.

He called Geoff, because if he had to be up, well. So did everyone else.

Every so often, it was good to be the king.