Storm Damage (Big Sky Series Book 1)

by CP Smith

  _______________

  Six months later . . .

  “And then I told John, rumor has it your police chief doesn’t work out of the courthouse but out of this bar. He said I was nuts, so I hauled him down here to prove him wrong. It’s true, isn’t it? A gal over at the diner said after he caught some serial killer, he refused to take the job unless he could work out of this bar. She said he didn’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on the owner. That if they wanted him to wear the badge permanently, he would only do it sitting at the end of the bar.”

  Jordan had been running her mouth again. Susie and John Little were an older couple passing though Ennis on their way to Yellowstone. Logan had become a bit of a curiosity for vacationers when they heard where his office was.

  “Yes, ma’am, it’s true. The police chief sits right there.” I pointed to the vacant barstool where Logan rarely sat because he was too busy pouring beer or clearing tables when he wasn’t out on a call.

  It had been six months since Logan rescued my brothers, and I still hadn’t forgiven him for keeping me in the dark. Since it ended well for my brothers, I only brought up it up when I was losing a fight now.

  It could have been so much worse, considering Jake had been shot. Thankfully, it was his non-throwing arm and the small caliber bullet only passed through the meaty part of his shoulder. He only missed two games before he insisted he was fit enough to play, even if I’d adamantly said no. It took Logan intervening on his behalf before I finally gave in. I shouldn’t have worried. His offensive line wasn’t about to let anyone touch him after what he went through. He finished the rest of the season without a single sack and the Mustangs took state. A month ago, he signed a letter of intent with the Oklahoma Sooners. In a few short months, he’d be leaving Montana to follow his dream on a full-ride scholarship—as long as I kept the girls away.

  Josh was still Josh. I learned after we were all home and recouping together that he had nerves of steel. He’d held it together through the whole ordeal and had secretly pulled his pocketknife out of his back pocket and was moments away from cutting through the rope. He’d been egging Chance on to keep his focus on himself and off his brother. Logan told me in the dark of night that Josh was a natural born soldier, and I needed to prepare myself—because in three years, Josh would enlist—as long as I kept the girls away.

  When Logan arrested Chance for kidnapping and attempted murder of my brothers, the town had been shocked. The sack of bones Logan found at the abduction sight were sent in for DNA analysis and we finally had confirmation about what had happen to Duke. Chance had killed his father in a fit of rage, then gone on a killing spree against those who knew about the abuse but never rescued him. He killed Frank to cover his tracks and Duke because Frank had called him. He’d burned Duke’s body alongside his father to cover up the murder, rigging the furnace to explode to throw us off his trail. Then he’d driven Duke’s truck and boat to Yellowstone with a motorcycle in the bed of the truck so he could return. Rip died for his sins, and Butch died because of greed. Eleanor and Eloise died because they feared Justice Bear more than they cared about what was happening to Chance.

  Chance hadn’t fought any of the charges. He pled guilty with a blank face and was held over for a psychological evaluation before sentencing, after admitting to killing his father, and finding out Justice had lied about our mother. He was ruled mentally unstable and sentenced to Montana State Hospital. He’s been there four months and just recently asked to see me.

  The town had been numb when he was first arrested. Some of the older residents had known about Justice Bear’s temper, but none had reported him because Justice owned the local law enforcement. As for blaming my family as I feared, instead of raising pitchforks and running the lot of us out of town for being related to Chance, the good people of Ennis, Montana, circled their wagons around all of us, Kenzie and Chace included. When the media swooped in like the buzzards they were, they barely got close to us. And with Logan at the bar each night, they never made it through the door.

  Since Chance was locked up and unable to call in his loan, Kenzie wrote off the debt as his executor for the torment he put my family through. She also paid off all our medical bills as an act of contrition. I argued it was unnecessary, but she went behind my back to the hospital.

  Kenzie and Chace took an extended break from Ennis until the media moved on to something new. They were now living at Bear Claw Ranch. Kenzie was in charge of everything until Chace was old enough to run things. She’d turned in her haute couture for jeans, boots, and flannel shirts. I’d forgotten that in her youth she was a barrel racing champion. She could work a horse with the best of them and did daily now. And her men were loyal to the Ennis beauty because she treated them with the respect neither Justice nor Chance ever gave them, Mac Macey said.

  Ty and Jamie had been distant ever since my attack. Neither would talk about it, but I suspected Ty had made his intentions known and Jamie turned him down because of me. When she was ready to talk about it, I’d be there to listen. If I’d learned one thing with everything that had happened in the past six months, it was fate was never wrong. If they were meant to be, then it would happen without my help.

  Logan appeared behind the bar carrying a keg for the tap. You wouldn’t know to look at him he was the police chief. Instead of sporting the standard issued uniform Duke always wore, Logan stuck to all black. Black boots, black cargo pants, black tee with the town logo on the back. He kept his badge in his back pocket, but his gun rested on his hip at all times. He looked like a SWAT officer or the soldier he’d always be. My soldier. ‘Til death do us part in just a few months. It would be sooner if Logan had his way, but I wanted a big bash outside at The Sarah so the whole town could witness how much I loved him. So we had to wait for warmer weather.

  Max trotted around the front of the bar and leaned against my leg.

  “You allow dogs in your bar?” John Little asked incredulously.

  I turned back from watching Logan and took in the older couple. “He’s my bouncer.”

  “What can a dog . . .”

  Susie stopped speaking when I gave Max the hand signal for Guard and he stood quickly and lowered his head at the couple, his upper lip quivering so he could bare his teeth as he growled.

  When Max growled, it took Logan point five seconds to clear the bar, looking for the enemy. He was a bit overprotective these days since I was five and a half months pregnant. Antibiotics and birth control don’t mix apparently. We’re expecting a son in July. It’s just as well it’s not a little girl. I was used to the testosterone flooding my house. I wouldn’t know what to do with an estrogen-filled female.

  “Oh my,” the woman mumbled, hand to her chest as she stared up at Logan.

  I gave Max the hand signal for At Ease and he flopped at my feet but kept an eye on the couple. He’d been my constant companion since my attack. I wasn’t allowed to go to the grocery store to pick up the steak Logan insisted feeding him, at least once a day, without taking Max with me. Because of all the time we spent together, he sometimes disregarded Logan if he gave him a command. Especially if I was lounging on the couch with the war dog and Logan wanted to lie down in Max’s spot.

  “Are you the police chief?” the woman breathed out on a sigh with dreamy eyes.

  I tried to control my giggle, but Logan caught it and rolled his eyes. At least once a week, if not once a day, some female tourist would mosey into the bar looking for a cold beer and start drooling at the sight of Logan. And don’t get me started on the media. Once they found out the officer who caught Chance was a former Delta Force operator, who looked like an Adonis, he had to change his cell number.

  “Logan Storm,” he answered, putting out his hand to shake hers and her husband’s. “Can I get you a cold one?”

  The man seemed puzzled. “Is that even legal? That can’t be legal. If you’re on duty, you shouldn’t be serving alcohol with a gun on your person.”

  “Might
be, but I don’t care,” Logan stated, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Told’em they can have my badge anytime. If they want me in the position, then they have to take me as they get me. And I come with a gun. Always.”

  You could take the sniper out of the army, but you couldn’t take a gun from the sniper.

  _______________

  One week later . . .

  Logan stared up at Montana State Hospital. Chance Bear had asked to speak with Skylar, and she agreed, going against Logan’s fervent wish to keep her away from anything that could harm her or his son resting peacefully in her belly.

  “He gets one chance, baby. The second he does or says anything I don’t like, we’re out of there. Understand?”

  Josh and Jake supported Logan on this. After being held at knifepoint, they had no use for their half brother, but Skylar felt she owed it to her mother to visit him at least once. Sarah James had loved Chance until the day she died, and now that Skylar was heavy with Logan’s son, she understood the bond between mother and child.

  Skylar squeezed his hand in understanding. “It’ll be fine. We all know the truth now. Even Chance. He’s guilty of many things, but Justice should take most of the blame. He turned his son into a killer after years of abuse. I think that deserves a little compassion.”

  There was that soft side again. Skylar could forgive anyone, given enough time to calm down. Even a man who’d held a knife to her brother’s throat and shot the other in the arm.

  “What about your man. Doesn’t he deserve a little compassion?”

  She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He folded her into his front then leaned down and nipped her bottom lip. “I was protecting you after what you went through. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  She sniffed indignantly, then pushed out of his arms and grabbed his hand. “I’d never win an argument if I gave up my ace in the hole.”

  He let her drag him toward the front door while he threw his head back and laughed, feeling at peace. It was an emotion he’d grown accustomed to in the past six months but would never take for granted. He still missed his brothers, but the sting of loss had begun to fade. And the guilt he’d carried for close to two years was completely gone. He’d found his joy and it had burned away the pain. His friends died protecting their country. Protecting innocents, like Skylar. They’d be proud of that. And so was Logan.

  After filling out paperwork and going through the necessary procedure in order to visit Chance Bear, they were finally led to a room with windows. Chance sat in a chair with his head bowed. He didn’t look up until he heard the door open. Logan entered first to keep himself between Bear and Skylar. He didn’t react to Logan’s presence; he was too busy staring at Skylar with guilt masking his features.

  A guard stood at his back and motioned for Logan and Skylar to sit. Logan pulled both chairs out and away from the table; far enough Bear couldn’t reach across it and touch his sister.

  Skylar smirked at him but sat down and folded her arms across her growing midsection. Watching her, Logan felt his throat knot with emotion. She was his whole world. He’d gladly go to prison protecting her if Chance touched a hair on her head, so he turned dangerous eyes toward her brother and rumbled a warning not meant to mince words.

  “You touch her, and I’ll end you. You upset her in any way, and we’re gone.”

  Bear didn’t look smug. He looked small and weak as Logan spoke and he didn’t argue. He nodded his understanding, then he turned sad eyes to Skylar and simply said, “I’m sorry for everything. If I could take it back, I would. If you have it in you to help me, please tell me about our mother. I want to know the real Sarah James. Not Justice Bear’s version.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Bestselling Author CP Smith lives in Oklahoma with her husband and five children. She loves football, reading, and card games. Writing for her is about escape. She writes what she loves to read and leaves the rest to those with better imaginations.

  You can reach Ms. Smith at:

  cpsmith74135@gmail.com

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  Titles by CP Smith

  Reason Series

  a reason to breathe

  a reason to kill

  a reason to live

  Wallflowers Series

  Wallflowers: Three of a Kind

  Wallflowers: Double Trouble

  Wallflowers: One Heart Remains

  Standalones

  Restoring Hope

  Property Of

  FRAMED

  Happily Ever Alpha World

  Until Susan

  Until Joe

  Big Sky series

  Storm Damage

  Acknowledgments

  To my family. All of this is for you. Thank you for putting up with me!

  Mayra Statham. I love you to the moon and back. You keep me sane! You’re my touchstone.

  Deb Hawblitzel Schultz, I love you like a sister. COVID needs to take a hike so we can see each other.

  My author friends: Mayra Statham, Mary B. Moore, Helena Hunting, Debra Anastasia, Aurora Rose Reynolds, Brynne Asher, Layla Frost, Freya Barker. A girl’s gotta have friends, and you ladies are as special as they come! Thanks for always having time for me.

  Wallflowers Book Club: Carole Rockey-Noy, Audrey Wilkes Krofchick, Brandy Stapf, and Robin Mitnick, you ladies have been a light in a very uncertain time. You’ve cheered me on and helped me focus. Love all of you! Thanks for being my sounding board.

  Michelle Reed, Nichole Hart, Gi Paar, Jane S. Wells, Angela Shue, Jamila Giel, and Victoria Dixon, Nineveh Gawrieh Blankenship, Carmen Lawter, and Sue Schwegman, Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to find my errors. It means a lot to me that you care as much as I do about these characters I bring to life.

  Joanne Thompson and Karen Hrdlicka, you edit like rock stars, thank you for all your hard work and for the friendship that I treasure.

  My Wallflowers, what can I say? #Crossfire You held me up through the most terrifying time in my life to date and I will NEVER forget that. Wallflowers never leave a woman behind, and you proved you’re Wallflowers through and through. I hope you’ll enjoy Logan and Skylar’s story just as much as those wacky Wallflowers.

  Teeny’s Tarts, you’re the bomb. Thank you for all your help. I can’t express my appreciation enough that you would give up your spare time to help this Wallflower with her books! On to Montana!!!

  And to my original Dream Team. I love you more than you know! ‘Thank you’ isn’t a big enough word. I’ll never forget where it all started. Who pushed me to take this step. I wish all of you nothing but love and happiness.