by Elle James
“Why?”
Molly tipped her head. “You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“That rat-bastard, ex-husband of hers, Corley Ferguson, used to beat the crap out of her. She tried to hide it, but everyone knew. You can’t hide black eyes and bruised cheeks. I told her to leave him so many times, I lost count.” Molly lifted the tote bag Jenna had laid on the floor by the door. “You want me to take that duffel?”
Bastian stared at the door Jenna had gone through with his mother. “No. I’ve got it. Lead the way.” He followed his sister up the stairs, wanting to learn more about Jenna’s life between the time he’d left home and now. “What made her finally divorce him?”
“He nearly killed her. After he left her on the floor in their house with three broken ribs and a concussion, she called 911. She hasn’t been back since.”
“How long ago was that?”
Molly shrugged. “The divorce was final a year ago. She had to file for a restraining order after he’d cornered her at her work. It had been her first day on the job as a real estate agent.” At the top of the stairs, Molly turned left and stopped in front of the room beside Bastian’s.
“Did he hurt her again?” Bastian asked.
Molly grinned. “Hell no. Jenna and I spent the summer driving back and forth to Bozeman to take Krav Maga self-defense lessons. She whooped ol’ Corley’s ass.” Molly shook her head. “I would have given good money to see that bastard on his knees.” Her lips pressed into a firm line. “He deserved it and a whole lot more.”
“Has he kept his distance since the restraining order?”
“As far as I know. I haven’t heard of anymore incidents. Jenna seems to be getting on with her life. Hopefully, Corley is, too.” She set the tote on the bed. “I’m glad she’s here for a while. I worried about her living over the Blue Moose.”
“Why did she stay there?”
“She’s trying to build up her sales as a real estate agent. It takes time. She didn’t ask for anything out of her divorce from Corley. She just wanted to be free of the abuse. But she’s flat broke, living from one sale to another.”
Bastian’s chest pinched at the thought of Jenna going hungry until she saw another paycheck. Especially, when the McKinnon’s had so much.
He set the soft-sided duffel bag on the bed beside the tote and followed Molly out of the room.
Bastian was glad Jenna was staying at the ranch as well. No woman deserved to be beaten like Corley had beaten her. Only cowards and bullies hit women. As far as Bastian was concerned, those men didn’t need to occupy space on the planet.
He hurried downstairs, this newfound understanding of Jenna making him anxious to see her again. After being abused so violently and then chased through the woods by para-military assassins, she was holding up better than most women in similar situations. One more reason for him to admire his sister’s best friend.
Admire…but don’t touch, he reminded himself.
Admiration could get him in trouble. That, combined with the desire to kiss her, sent up red flags for Bastian. He’d never wanted to be responsible for another woman after Lauren. And he hadn’t been tempted for the past eleven years.
Until now. Until Jenna.
Chapter 5
Jenna woke with a start and stared up at the ceiling. She didn’t recognize the room or the furniture. Panic seized her until she realized she wasn’t tied to a wooden chair, nor was she in a dark, dingy old cabin awaiting torture.
She sat up straight and rubbed her wrists. Her heart hammered against her ribs until she remembered. This wasn’t her apartment over the Blue Moose Tavern. She’d stayed the night with the McKinnons on the Iron Horse Ranch. If she wasn’t safe here, she wasn’t safe anywhere.
She laid back on the pillow and willed herself to sleep. After several minutes lying with her eyes squeezed shut, she finally gave up, sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Five o’clock in the morning wasn’t too early to rise, was it? Jenna dressed and carried her boots down the stairs where a light burned brightly from the kitchen.
The aroma of coffee filled the air, leading her in the direction of the kitchen, the coffee pot and company.
Molly’s mother, Hannah McKinnon, dressed in jeans, a white blouse and house slippers, stood at the coffeemaker pouring a cup of the fragrant brew into a mug. When she turned, she smiled. “I don’t remember…do you drink coffee?”
Jenna nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, please, don’t call me ma’am.”
“Yes, Mrs. McKinnon.”
“And that sounds too formal for us adults. Why don’t you call me Mom? After all, you’re like one of mine.” She held out the cup. “There’s cream in the refrigerator and sugar on the table.”
“Thanks, but I like it just like this.” Jenna closed her eyes and inhaled. Something about the scent of a good cup of coffee grounded her in the day.
“I expect the men will be up soon. I heard Angus on the phone with Hank Patterson late last night. He said Hank and his computer guy will be out first thing this morning.”
Jenna’s eyebrows rose. “They get up at five o’clock?”
“Is it only five?” Mrs. McKinnon shot a glance toward the clock on the wall and grimaced. “I guess they won’t be out here that soon.” She poured a cup and carried it to the table where she sat.
“Why are you up so early?” Jenna asked as she took a seat opposite of the McKinnon matriarch.
Hannah sighed. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Missing James?”
The older woman nodded, her eyes suspiciously glassy. “The bed is so big without him. And lonely.” She glanced toward the window, the cup of coffee in her hands all but forgotten. “I can only imagine what he must be going through, and it tears me up.” She set the cup on the table, pulled a tissue out of her front pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “There I go again. You’d think I couldn’t handle a little adversity.”
Jenna set down her cup and reached across the table to grip Hannah’s empty hand. “You have a right to be upset. It’s frustrating when you have no control over the situation.”
“If only I could do something. Anything. But all I’ve done is wait.” Hannah shook her head. “I’m tired of waiting. I need action.”
“We all do,” Bastian’s voice sounded from behind Jenna.
Jenna spun, heat rising up her neck into her cheeks. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Don’t do that.”
He grinned. “Do what?”
“Sneak up on a person.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I’m all right.”
His mother pushed back her chair and started to rise.
“Sit,” he said, waving at her. “I know how to pour a cup of coffee.”
She rose anyway. “I should start breakfast. I’m sure the others will be down soon.”
Bastian placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mom, no one will be down for another hour at least. Sit and relax.”
She gave him a tight smile. “I need to move.”
Jenna caught Bastian’s gaze and gave him a brief nod. “When you’re upset or worried about something or someone, it helps to keep busy.”
Mrs. McKinnon nodded. “Exactly. If I sit too long, my mind goes down dark paths. I need to remain positive. Therefore, I can’t sit long.” She covered Bastian’s hand on her shoulder. “I love you son, but you gotta let me do my thing.”
He pulled her into a brief hug. “Gotcha. You do your thing.”
“Are you hungry yet?” she asked as she crossed the floor. “Or can you wait while I whip up a batch of homemade biscuits?”
He grinned. “I can wait as long as it takes for your homemade biscuits.”
“They’re your dad’s favorites. Maybe, if I make them, he’ll smell them and find his way home.” She laughed, the sound catching on a sob.
“Makes sense to me. I know he�
�d come home, if he could.” Bastian poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter to drink it. “Anything I can do to help?”
His mother snorted. “Have you ever made biscuits in your entire life?”
“No, but I can reach stuff in tall cabinets,” he said. “That ought to be worth something.” He winked at Jenna and smiled at his mother.
Jenna’s heart skipped several beats. Bastian had never winked at her before. Still, she shouldn’t read anything into it. He didn’t see her as anyone but his kid sister’s friend.
As Jenna finished her coffee, she too felt the need to move. “Can I help?” she asked.
Mrs. McKinnon shook her head. “Not until I start cooking the eggs and bacon to go with the biscuits. I could use some fresh eggs. I think the stash in the refrigerator is low.”
“I’ll check the chicken coop,” Jenna said. She and Molly used to collect the eggs when they’d been teens.
“Watch out for the rooster. Lately, he’s been a cantankerous little cuss. Use the fishnet hanging on the barn if he acts like he’s going to attack you.”
“Fish net?” Bastian frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I know what she’s talking about,” Jenna said with a grin. “I’ll handle it.”
“I’ve got to see this. Who uses a fishnet to collect eggs?”
Jenna’s nerves all stood on alert as she led the way out to the chicken coop.
Just as Mrs. McKinnon had predicted, as soon as they opened the gate to the chicken pen, the rooster rushed at them, wings flapping.
Having been spurred by a rooster before, Jenna wasn’t going to put up with his nonsense or suffer the puncture wounds his sharp talons could induce. She closed the gate, grabbed the fishnet hanging on a nail on the outside of the barn and returned to the chicken pen. “Watch and learn,” she said to Bastian.
Jenna opened the gate.
When the rooster charged, she scooped him up into the fishnet. She hung the net, rooster and all, on the nail sticking out of the side of the chicken coop and collected the eggs with no more problems.
Bastian stood at the gate, his arms crossed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Clever.”
“Your mother figured it out a long time ago. I learned from the best.” She handed him the bucket of eggs. “If you’ll hold this, I’ll release our prisoner.”
“I’ll take care of the rooster.”
Jenna stepped back and let him.
Soon the disgruntled rooster was once again strutting his stuff among the hens in the chicken yard. And Jenna had a bucket of fresh eggs for breakfast.
Bastian shook his head. “My mother…”
“Is brilliant. I never would have thought to hang the rooster on the wall so that I could collect eggs.”
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He took the bucket from her hands and carried it to the house.
“I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out here. Other than when I stayed here after my divorce.”
“I thought you and Molly would have kept in touch after high school. Eagle Rock isn’t that big a town.”
Jenna’s smile slipped. “I was busy.”
“What did you do before you sold real estate?” he asked.
She didn’t want to answer, but she didn’t want the easy way he was talking to her to end. “Not much.”
“Did you work outside the home when you were married to Ferguson?”
“No,” she responded. Thankfully, they arrived at the back door. Jenna dove into the kitchen and called out brightly, “We have eggs.”
“Oh, good,” Mrs. McKinnon said. “Just in time. Hank and Swede just drove up, and the biscuits are almost ready.” She took the bucket from her son and carried them to the stove.
Within minutes, she had a dozen eggs cracked, stirred and poured into a skillet to scramble.
Unwilling to answer more questions from Bastian, Jenna made herself useful by popping bread into the toaster and buttering them when they were done.
“Bastian, I need you to set the table,” Mrs. McKinnon said.
Angus, Colin and Molly entered the room, followed by two men Jenna had seen in Eagle Rock on several occasions, but had never been properly introduced to.
Duncan and Parker Bailey, the ranch foreman, followed the strangers into the kitchen.
“Mom,” Angus said. “You’ve met Hank and Swede.”
“Yes, of course. They’ve been a big help with the investigation to find your father.” Mrs. McKinnon raised a spatula. “I hope you like scrambled eggs and biscuits.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hank answered. “But you don’t have to feed us.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s early. I’m sure you haven’t had time to grab breakfast. And it won’t be any trouble to add a few more eggs.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the men said.
Bastian held out a hand to the dark-haired man. “Hank.” He motioned to Jenna. “This is Jenna Meyers, the woman who discovered the blood in the cabin yesterday. Jenna, this is Hank Patterson, founder of the Brotherhood Protectors, a security and protection service made up of prior military soldiers, sailors and marines.”
Hank held out his hand to Jenna. “I hear you had a little trouble yesterday with some men carrying military-grade weapons. I’m glad you were able to evade them and report back to the sheriff, without any undo harm.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Patterson,” she said, shaking his hand. “I didn’t realize we needed so much private security in this area, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Call me Hank.” He turned to a hulkingly big man with pale blond hair. “This is Swede. He’s my right hand and tech guru. We couldn’t do half the things we do without his guidance and support.”
Jenna shook Swede’s big hand and looked up into friendly blue eyes. Despite his intimidating size, she liked him instantly.
Hank turned to the McKinnon men. “I was able to scrape up some of the blood samples off the cabin floor. Since the state crime lab is always backed up and takes too incredibly long to run identification testing, I offered to send it to a lab I know of where they can perform DNA testing in a fraction of the time.”
“Thank you,” Angus said.
“Yes,” Mrs. McKinnon. “Thank you.”
Hank held up his hands. “If you want to know if the blood was Mr. McKinnon’s, I’ll need something of his that would contain his DNA. A hair would be ideal.”
Mrs. McKinnon nodded her head. “I can do that. I know where he kept his favorite comb. Hopefully, it has enough hair on it to make the DNA testing a possibility.” She handed the spatula to Colin. “Stir the scrambled eggs to keep them from sticking to the bottom.”
Colin nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve made scrambled eggs before.”
“Now, I’m really scared.” Mrs. McKinnon took the spatula from Colin and handed it to Duncan. “Keep your eye on the ball. If you don’t keep stirring, they’ll burn to the bottom of the pan.”
“Go,” Duncan said. “I’ve got this.”
Hannah McKinnon hurried out of the room, her slippered feet slapping on the stairs as she climbed to the second floor.
Colin stood beside Duncan. “You’re burning the eggs.”
“No, I’m not,” Duncan said, wielding the spatula like he knew what he was doing.
Jenna like the playful bickering between the brothers. The love and warmth in the room made her feel safe.
“Mind if I get a cup of that coffee?” Hank asked.
“Not at all,” Angus said. “Make yourself at home.” He pulled two mugs out of the cabinet over the coffeemaker and set them beside the carafe. “Cream is in the refrigerator, and the sugar is on the table.”
Hank poured a cup for Swede and one for himself and sat at the table. “I spoke to the sheriff this morning. They’re questioning local survivalist groups about the two men on motorcycles.”
“I’m certain they won’t hand over their two men if they were involved in the abduction and t
orture,” Bastian said.
“Still, the sheriff will poke around and see what he can,” Hank said. “In the meantime, I’ll send some of my guys to stake out their camps. If we see anything, we’ll report back.”
Bastian glanced across at Jenna. “I’d like to talk with your mountain man. If he’s living in the woods, he might be seeing things the rest of us aren’t.”
Jenna’s lips twisted. “Even if you can find him, he won’t talk.”
“What do you mean,” Bastian asked.
She shrugged. “He communicated with me in hand signals.”
“I don’t care if he talks, as long as he can lead me to anything related to our father,” Bastian said.
“I’m all for that, too,” Jenna said. “However, I think it’ll be hard to get him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. He knows how to disappear.”
His jaw firm, Bastian tapped his fist into his open palm. “I’ll find him.”
“I’m going with you,” Jenna said.
Bastian’s brow dipped. “You should stay here at the ranch where you’re safe. Those men know you saw something.”
Molly entered the kitchen with her mother “Jenna, Bastian has a point. Those men chased you through the woods. I don’t think they were carrying rifles to make sure you said yes to having tea with them.”
Jenna’s lips quirked at Molly’s sarcasm. The mental image of the dangerous men having tea struck her as hysterically funny. Key word: hysterically.
She squared her shoulders and set her mouth in a firm line. “I’m not going to hide out on the Iron Horse Ranch forever. I have a life. I refuse to run scared…ever again.”
“Jenna,” Bastian said. “There’s a difference between running scared and being cautious.”
“I know.” She lifted her chin. “I also know my mountain man is skittish. He might not let you get close. He saved my life. I have a better chance of coaxing him out of hiding. Assuming we can find him in the first place.” She frowned. “I meant to ask the sheriff if he knew of such a man, but we were all so caught up in getting back to the cabin, I forgot.”
“Our first stop today will be to talk to Sheriff Barron.”
