Active Defense

by Lynette Eason

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

  Caden cleared his throat and flashed his badge. “Actually, I’m going to take this young man into custody. He’s a crucial witness in a case I’m investigating—and may need protection from some pretty bad people—so I’ll take it from here. We’ll let you know when he’s ready for you.”

  O’Reilly let his gaze touch each person before landing back on Caden. He opened his folder, scribbled something on a piece of paper, and handed it to Caden. “I’ll need your signature on this.”

  Heather’s heart beat a happy rhythm when the caseworker left the hospital. She had a feeling he could get into some major trouble for walking away like he did, but for now, Ryker was in good, safe hands.

  Caden turned to the teen. “You want to stay with Travis?”

  Ryker looked at Travis, then back at Caden. He gave a short, small nod. “Yeah. That would be nice. Thank you.” He hesitated. “Were you serious when you said I might be in danger, or was that just for the CPS dude’s benefit?”

  “I’m serious. I don’t know if you’re in danger or not, but I don’t want to gamble with your life and assume you’re not. I wasn’t there when you helped Heather, and I don’t know if those guys saw you. If they did, then yeah, the threat could be a very real thing. I think we’ll err on the side of caution here.” He frowned. “And since we’re already watching out for Heather, we’ll simply keep you in the same place and make sure there isn’t any backlash coming your way.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Travis said. “I’ve got plenty of room at my place.”

  “What about the doc?” Ryker asked.

  “We’ll wait until we get an update on him before we leave.”

  The teen’s shoulders wilted. “Thank you.”

  They found seats in the waiting room, and Heather studied the teen, wishing she could distract him from the scenarios he was playing in his head about the doc. She slid over next to him. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” She took his shrug as permission to continue. “What happened to your mom?”

  “She overdosed when I was about seven and a half.”

  Again the ache in her chest flared for this kid. “How have you turned out so awesome?”

  He hesitated only a fraction at the abrupt question, then offered her another lift of one bony shoulder. “I don’t know about awesome, but if you mean how did I avoid going down the same path as my dad, then I have to give the doc credit for that. I was ten when my dad broke my arm. Of course, I didn’t tell anyone that he did it, but I think the doc knew. He was really kind and patient. I asked questions throughout the whole process. From X-ray to setting it to the cast. He asked me if I was interested in medicine. I said yeah.”

  “And the rest is history?”

  Ryker hesitated and Heather waited, letting him decide if he wanted to finish the story or not. “Something like that,” he finally said, his voice low. “At the time, I just wanted to know what to do for it when it happened again, but over time, yeah, I found myself drawn to medicine—and the doc. Mostly the doc.”

  “I see.”

  His eyes lifted to hers. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.”

  “Why’d your dad break your arm?”

  He looked away, letting his gaze settle on the hands clasped between his knees.

  “Ryker?”

  He cleared his throat. “Um . . . because I wanted a birthday cake.”

  Heather bit her lip and blinked back tears for the little boy who’d just wanted a cake. “A cake?”

  “My mom had made me one for my sixth birthday,” he said, “and I remembered it tasted so good. But more than that, I felt loved that day. Like someone was happy I was on the planet and I was worth celebrating.” He shrugged. “I guess on my tenth birthday, I wanted that feeling back so I asked my dad if I could have a cake. He said he wasn’t spending any money on a stupid cake. I started crying and he hit me. I crashed into the coffee table and broke it—with my arm.”

  Heather wanted to throw up. Memories assaulted her. Being pushed into a wall by her father. His heavy fist slamming against the side of her head. His ability to twist her arm in such a way as not to break it but cause excruciating pain. She shuddered. One thing she could never understand was the ability to hurt a child on purpose. “I’m sorry, Ryker.”

  “I am too. The doc showed me how a real man is supposed to act, so I’m grateful for that.” His eyes slid in the direction of the operating room. “He has to be all right, Heather. I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s not.”

  She reached over and clasped his hand. “I know.”

  They fell silent and Heather offered up a prayer for the man who meant so much to the kid sitting next to her.

  The minutes ticked past. Thirty minutes later, Caden looked up from his phone. “All right. It’s arranged. I’ve got a couple of buddies who are going to follow you back to Travis’s place and stand guard. There’s a BOLO out on Donnie Little, who was last seen at a convenience store about an hour from here. Local authorities are on the move looking for him. We’re also delving into his background to see if there’s anything that would indicate where he’s trying to disappear to. We’re monitoring his wife’s cell phone, and so far, there’ve been no calls from him.”

  Finally, the door opened, and the doctor stepped into the waiting room. Ryker shot to his feet. “How is he?”

  “He had some internal bleeding, but we’ve gotten that under control. He’ll be good and sore for a while, but he should be just fine.”

  A long breath escaped Ryker and his fingers curled into fists at his sides. “Thank you.”

  “You feel all right about heading to the ranch now?” Travis asked.

  “Yes. Yeah.”

  “Do you need to get anything? A bag from the cabin or your father’s house? We can escort you there to pick up whatever you need.”

  “No—” He froze.

  “What is it?” Travis turned to see a large man striding toward them.

  “That’s my father and he—”

  “You get yourself home, boy!” Donahue lurched toward the group, his eyes bleary, balance not quite steady.

  “—looks drunk.” Ryker planted his feet to face the man with a granite jaw, clenched fists, and blazing eyes. “You beat up the doc.”

  “Because he’s got no business interfering in our lives.” The slurred words accompanied the sickening smell of alcohol and foul breath. “He’s making you think you’re something special and you’re gettin’ too uppity for your own good.”

  Ryker launched himself toward the man, and Gavin caught him, while Caden moved lightning quick. Before Heather could blink, he had the man’s hands behind him and cuffs around his wrists.

  Heather grabbed Ryker’s fist and squeezed. He blinked and the red rage that had been in his eyes faded to a deep sorrow. “Check him for weapons,” he told Caden in a low voice. “He’ll have something on him.”

  Gavin let Ryker loose and the teen kept his distance from his father. Security hurried over and Caden explained the situation, then patted Ryker’s father down. He pulled a small pistol from his coat pocket. “What do we have here?”

  “Everyone carries,” Donahue said. “Lots of snakes around here.”

  Caden looked back at Ryker. “Does he have a CWP?”

  “No, he has a record.”

  “Okay, then I’ll detain him and turn him over to the local cops. They can arrest him on assault charges and carrying without a permit. I’ll make sure they add drunk and disorderly to it too.”

  Ryker pulled his old phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

  That seemed to jolt some sobriety into the man. “Ryker! You’re going to put your old man in jail? You’ll just have to bail me out, you moron.”

  Ryker turned his back to his father. When he hung up, he nodded to Travis. “I’m ready to leave when you are.”

  “Ryker? What are you doing? You seriously doing this?�
�� Donahue sounded more sober at this point—sober mixed with shock and a touch of desperation.

  Ryker ignored the new tone in his father’s voice and kept his gaze locked on Travis. “I’ll be waiting outside for you.”

  “I’m going to make you pay! You’ll regret this!”

  The sheriff chose that moment to enter the hospital. His eyes widened slightly at the scene before him, and he huffed a disgusted sigh. “I was two blocks over at the diner. Thanks for interrupting my meal, Donahue.”

  He led the protesting man away, and Ryker scrubbed a hand down his face. “I can’t help him, can I?” he asked Heather.

  “He doesn’t want to be helped right now. Until someone’s willing to be helped, then no, you can offer and offer, but—” She broke off as her own words slapped her in the face. She caught Travis watching her, a soft, knowing expression on his features. She grimaced and shot him a smile. “But maybe one day he’ll realize how much you tried to help him, how much you still want to help him, and he’ll finally let you.”

  Ryker’s gaze bounced between her and Travis, then back to her. He gave her a smile identical to Travis’s. Heather resisted the childish impulse to stick her tongue out at the two of them. Barely.

  Travis placed a hand at the small of her back and escorted her toward the exit.

  Caden fell into step with them. “I don’t think we should be obvious about you leaving the hospital. But when you pull out of the parking lot, an unmarked vehicle will fall in behind you at a discreet distance to make sure no one else is following. Once you’re back at the ranch—and we’re sure no one followed you—we’ll have a couple of officers keep watch on the place. And you.”

  Heather kept her groan to herself. Squelching her resentment at the need for all the help, she made a vow. When the person responsible for causing all this drama was captured, she was going to request the pleasure of slamming the cell door herself.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY

  When they made it back to the ranch with no one shooting at them, attempting to run them off the road, or blowing anything up, Travis released a small breath of relief. Even the fact that the snow had started up again didn’t faze him.

  After a stop at a superstore for clothes and toiletries for Ryker, they’d made good time. Instead of going to his parents’ home, though, he pulled into his driveway and they all got out.

  “You live here?” The awe in Ryker’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Yeah. It’s a work in progress, but I’m having fun doing it.”

  “It’s awesome, man.”

  “Thank you.” Travis shot a smile at Heather. “You don’t mind moving over here, do you? With Ryker, there aren’t enough bedrooms over at Mom’s.”

  “Of course, but I don’t mind staying with your—”

  She broke off when he shook his head. “I’d rather keep you close by. I’m almost one hundred percent sure that no one knows you’re staying here, but I’d rather not have you that far away in case anything were to happen.” He shifted. “Um . . . but if you’re not comfortable with that arrangement, I can let Ryker stay here and we’ll just—”

  This time he was the one who broke off, as she placed a finger against his lips.

  “It’s fine, Travis. I’ll walk over and get my stuff.” She held up the satellite phone he’d given her. “And I’ll keep this on me at all times.”

  “I’ll help you after I get Ryker settled in a room.”

  “It’s a small rolling suitcase. I think I can handle it.” When he frowned, she pointed. “Look. Guards. People with guns who know how to use them. This place is protected better than the White House.”

  “Not quite, but I see what you mean.”

  She waved and headed toward his parents’ home.

  Travis turned back to Ryker, who was still looking around him in awe. “You ready to check out your room?”

  The teen bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Thanks.”

  Travis watched Heather enter the house, then turned and led the way up the front porch to the door. He didn’t bother locking the house most days simply because he didn’t need to. He pushed open the door and stepped into the foyer. New paint smell still lingered, and Travis drew in a deep breath. Stairs straight ahead led to the second floor. “There are two bedrooms up there. Pick whichever one you like best. I’ll let Heather have the one down here.”

  “I’ll sleep anywhere.”

  “The bedroom is good.” Travis clapped the teen on his shoulder. “Past the stairs is the great room. On past that is the kitchen and eating area. Then a small hallway with the guest room on the left and the master on the right. If you need anything to eat or drink, the refrigerator is full.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say a word. Pick out your room, then come on down.”

  Ryker took off up the stairs just as Heather stepped inside, pulling her small bag behind her. When Ryker disappeared into the room to the left of the stairs, she shot Travis a small smile. “Have you always collected strays?”

  He laughed. “Strays? No. But I do like helping people. I always have. Maybe that’s why God puts me in the position to do so.”

  “Well, you’re good at it.”

  “Good at it?”

  “Yes. You’re pushy about it, but not overbearing.”

  Another chuckle slipped from him and he led her to the bedroom that would be hers. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m overbearing.”

  She placed the bag just inside the door and he waited while she took in the room. “It’s lovely. Such a pretty shade of blue.”

  “I thought it was a peaceful color.” Pleased that she approved, he led her into the living room where she walked to the mantel and ran her hands over the wood. “You made this, didn’t you?”

  “I did. I’ve always found woodworking to be an escape. A stress reliever, I guess.”

  “You’re very talented.”

  Travis could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but her praise freed something inside of him. “You don’t think it’s a silly hobby or a waste of time?”

  She blinked. “What? No, of course not. And if someone told you it is, then they need their head examined. This is art.”

  “Thank you.” He couldn’t help the husky quality to his voice and cleared his throat.

  “Who told you that it was silly?”

  “A woman I dated a couple of years ago. For a while I wondered if she was right.”

  “Rest assured, she was very wrong.”

  “I appreciate that. It galls me to admit she really did a number on my self-esteem. Made me feel less because I don’t wear a suit to the office or drive a black Mercedes.”

  “You don’t need any of that stuff. Trust me, she didn’t deserve you and you’re well rid of her.”

  He stepped over to her and took her hand. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, Heather, but I’m not sorry that I’m getting to spend a lot of time with you.”

  Her gaze locked on his. “I feel the same way, but . . .”

  His heart stuttered. “But?”

  “I like you, Travis. A lot.”

  “I’m still hearing the ‘but’.”

  “But I’m . . .” She sighed and the conflict in her eyes tore at his heart.

  “You’re what, Heather?”

  She shook her head. “This may be a premature statement, but I’m going to go ahead and say it. The truth is, I have a lot of emotional baggage.” She paused. “It might just be too much to ask of anyone to take that on. Too much to ask of you. You deserve so much better than that.” A grimace creased her features. “I’m not saying this very well and I may be completely out of line because I might be reading you wrong, but—” This time it was his finger on her lips that stopped the flow of rambling words.

  He raised a brow. She was seriously worried that she wasn’t good enough for him? “That’s it?” He dropped his hand. Her words gave him courage.

  She fro
wned. “What do you mean, that’s it? Yes, that’s pretty much it.”

  “First of all, you’re not reading me wrong. Second, do you think I’m blind or stupid?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Of course not. Quite the opposite actually.”

  “Then let me decide what I think I can handle. And just so we’re clear, you haven’t inflicted anything on me.”

  “Except a killer?”

  Her dry tone made him smile. “Okay, well, other than that. But, seriously, don’t you think we can only go up from there?”

  She shook her head. However, the slight curve of her lips gave him hope. “I’m just asking for a chance to get to know you more. And let you know me. If you’re in interested in that. If you’re not, then I won’t say another word.”

  “I’m interested,” she said, her voice soft. But the shadows in her eyes said she was still worried.

  Footsteps on the stairs made him pause. “To be continued.”

  He turned to see Ryker enter, phone pressed to his ear.

  “Okay,” Ryker said, “thanks for letting me know.” He hung up and ran a hand over his eyes. “The doc is doing better,” he said. “And my father goes before the judge tomorrow morning.”

  “Do you want to be there?” Travis asked.

  “No. Not this time.” Sadness flickered before he forced a smile. “Hey, do you mind if I go exploring a bit? I’d love to check out that barn.”

  “You ride?”

  “Yeah. A buddy of mine from school had horses, and his parents used to pay us to muck out the stalls and stuff. After we were done, we’d go riding.”

  “Then go explore and enjoy yourself, just keep an eye on the weather. It’s not horrible right now, but it’s supposed to get worse.”

  “Thanks, man.” He shoved into his coat, gloves, and hat, and spun toward the front door.

  “Hey,” Heather called.

  Ryker turned back with raised brows.

  “Just . . . be careful and don’t pull those stitches out.”

  He grinned and was gone before they could blink.

  “Well,” Travis murmured, “he seems to like it here okay.”